Instinct is a funny thing. Each species has its own unique version of it. Even us, whether we recognize it as such or not. And then we wonder: is it instinct or is it training? The debate over nature versus nurture has probably been going on longer than any of us realize.

            When I was younger, before I had children, I was convinced it was all in how you were raised. But now, after raising my own kids, I believe the scales tip more on the side of nature. I have to chuckle when I recall how sure I was on this matter, before coming to realize how very little I knew then—and now still. In our children, we can easily see the inherited physical characteristics, but also what comes blazing through are those annoying and, occasionally, not so annoying traits when they rear their unexpected faces. I think we’ve all seen them.

          But back to species’ instincts. Our eight-and-a-half-month-old Australian Shepherd/Border Collie is, by breed definition, a herding dog. And with this trait she’s almost constantly on the move—watching, tracking with her eyes and patrolling the area. She loves to run in circles around us, or the grandkids, or me pushing the wheel barrow… So along with regular obedience classes we’ve tried a couple sheep herding lessons.

            On our second time in with the sheep, as she circled around them, one escaped from the group. Even though we have yet to learn how to give and understand commands, she ran wide and brought it back to the group. That was instinct. Her training had nothing to do with it.

            So, what about us? What are our instincts as part of the human species? I’d like to think we have a few positive ones. And I believe we do. We seem to gravitate to community. As long as we “Play nice and try to get along,” this can work out well. That’s perhaps where the “nurture” part comes into play during our upbringing. But so often we, as a group, can become shortsighted and forget to make allowances which might encourage broader views.

            A large group often fractures into smaller segments where the like-minded find their tribe and their views narrow further. And this might be instinctive too. But aren’t we supposed to be smarter than that? You know—big-brained and all? But we set those brain cells to work on ways to keep us better than them.

            I read something recently that pertains to this. I’ll tell you what my takeaway on it was. Stories, such as Star Wars, based on the good guy/bad guy theme, encourage the taking of sides. Joining a cause can feel like a moral obligation which can make it seem legitimate, even though it’s often imbedded in a political vision. Consequently, it no longer feels necessary to deliberate or think deeply about the ramifications of our actions. A person is either on the good team or the bad team. This simple stance makes it much easier for us to rationalize bad behavior.

            Is there a way out of this? It’s gone on throughout history. We may be smart, and smarter than—but not smart enough. Not yet anyway. But I really hope we will be soon enough.

Chi Varnado has four newly published books. The Old House in the Country, women’s fiction; and three YA novels in The Dance Centre Presents series. Her memoir, A CANYON TRILOGY: Life Before, During and After the Cedar Fire and her children’s book, The Tale of Broken Tail are also available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com. You can follow her on Instagram or on www.Facebook.com/dancecentrepresents