“The sight of a feather in a peacock's tail, whenever I gaze at it, makes me sick!” -Charles Darwin (1860)
Why do peacocks have those large tail-feathers that attract attention? What utility do they provide? Why would something evolve that does not seem to help an animal find food or avoid predators?
There have been some ideas put forth since Darwin pondered this troubling thought over a century ago. The first is sexual selection- the magnificent plumage helped attract mates and the ones with the most extravagant feathers would reproduce. The second argument is that the eyespots on the feathers might help to scare the predators away. The third theory is counterintuitive but is being increasingly found in more and more species interactions- it’s called the Handicap Principle.
When an African gazelle senses a predator nearby, it will often start jumping up and down. This jumping is known as stotting. Even if the predator didn’t notice the gazelle previously, it will gain attention immediately by it’s repeated jumping. It’s not to take one for the team and protect the group, because they are even more likely to do this when alone (plus their genes would be selected against pretty quick if this was altruistic suicide).
Here’s the interesting part: these flashy displays did not increase the likelihood they would be eaten. In fact, stotting animals are less likely to be attacked. Something similar is seen in larks, who will often sing while being chased by falcons. The birds will use a large amount of lung capacity to sing smack-dab in the middle of a high-speed chase. But once again, the falcon tends to give up on the lark that sings during the chase.
What seems irrational turns out to be functional. By giving itself a handicap, the animal is actually advertising its fitness rather than its vulnerability. Only the strongest of animals can afford to waste such valuable resources. The predator as well as the prey is spared unnecessary trouble. If I can convince the predator I have an abundance of energy to squander, imagine the hassle it will be catching me. The more costly the signal, like the extravagant feathers on a peacock, the more bold the message to potential predators (and potential mates).
Humans do this all the time, particularly males. Males score higher than women on even the simplest measures of confidence and self-esteem, even at very young ages. It’s better to bluff and win before the fight starts. The bluff only works because it’s a costly signal but there is always the chance the check will be cashed. If you are willing to fight while giving yourself a severe handicap, you are either extremely competent or extremely crazy, either way, this will make your opponent think twice. In terms of social signaling, overconfidence is more useful than insecurity. And that is why throughout our evolutionary history, those who lacked confidence, did not reproduce.
Fast forward to today where our culture no longer sanctions signaling status through physical violence. We no longer demand rites of passage for young men to earn their position within the community. And we are no longer forced to defend our honor through costly rituals such as duals.
But we do have sports. And we also have the pretentious stepchild of sport, exercise. The algorithm is a slave to our attention, so it’s no wonder it shows us heroic and risk-taking displays of strength. The typical response to an ego-lift is “but why?”. The truth is, it doesn’t matter how functional or practical the movement is. What matters is that this is something we inherently value. After watching a hold-my-beer attempt, an ancient aspect of our social brain is factoring the individual’s status more than the utility of the feat itself.
And it’s not just feats of raw strength we use to signal, it’s feats of skill and coordination. The feathers of the handbalancer or yogi are no less gaudy; their intentions no less self-righteous. Even the functional trainer expressing their hip internal rotation is signaling fitness, the cost of investment to the tribe, and yes, even signaling potential to mates.
In the end, it’s all ego. Yet there is no need for us to justify these pursuits with health measurements or performance metrics. Ego lifting doesn’t have to be “toxic”. A heavy lift, a juggle, or a display of mobility are achievements we should celebrate, especially because they are part of our nature. It’s built into us. It’s who we are. And I hope we never lose it. Yes, we are peacocking, but the feathers we create are oh so beautiful.