Slowing Down for the Thule Police

. In some circles "instinct" is a bad word as it implies something unmeasurable. How does one detect something that is basically a program built into a species? It may not have a physical locus that can be pointed to within its biological system. The demonstration is always situationally and environmentally triggered.
. At our former dwelling in town we kept "clandestine" chickens in a home-made coop on the back side of a building, completely shielded from off-property visibility, especially out of view of the city's Code Enforcement officer. (Our neighbors actually loved our having them. No problem there. "Oh, it's like the old days," gushed one of our next-door neighbors who remembered a time of more home-centered food production.) The project turned out to have unexpected benefits besides fresh eggs: a source of amusement, a first-hand lesson in zoology, and more to the point, numerous manifestations of instinct.
. Perhaps deep in the human constitution we too have an embedded image of what we need to hastily retreat from for our survival. The chickens provided a graphic example. In their little poultric (I just made that word up!) brains there must be a hard-wired fearsome picture like the one below left.

. I'll tell you something you might see as a sort of cruel joke, but it was a science education technique like no other, to get the concept across about hard-wired instinct. There were a couple of occasions when we'd pass a broom over the flock so that its shadow would fall in the chicken yard. Try to see this from the chickens' point of view. Instinct virtually says "Don't take chances, act right away, just in case." Is the shadow of a sagging old broom on the right a close enough resemblance to a hawk silhouette to motivate the hens, "just in case"?

. Now I might share something about my own instinctive silhouette of fearsomeness which I attribute to being stopped on the highway en route to the Woodstock Festival of 1969 for no crime other than having a beard and having friends riding along who had long hair. The state trooper was polite enough, but insisted on searching the car. We were innocent kids and had none of the stuff he was obviously looking out for. When he finished the search he made some small talk about "the jam in Sullivan County" and let us go.
. This is stupid, but ever since then my instinctive silhouette of nameless fear looks like the image above left. On the right is an unwitting imposter which, from a distance bears a striking resemblance to a police car. I instantly respond by slowing down my car even without looking at the speedometer to see if I may be driving at legal speed and need take no action. The roof racks made by Thule and other manufacturers have a heavy frame, and this is the kicker, have a clear space just below. When the stimulus approaches nearer I can discern the true nature of the rooftop device, and lo, realize I have just slowed down for the "Thule Police"!