Watching the Seahorses Dance

A little while ago I decided, as I frequently do, to look up something of vague interest on Wikipedia. In this case, the subject was seahorses. I was aware, having learned it in that strange osmosis fashion by which I pick up a lot of my quasi-knowledge, that male seahorses were the ones who became pregnant, but I didn't really know how. And it occurred to me that, for animals if not humans, the carrying of children is pretty much the definition of being female. If a male can become pregnant, in what sense is it a male?

Well, I found out the answer to this question (it turns out the male impregnates the female, and then she passes the job of gestation onto him, in what you could quite appropriately call a biological egg-and-spoon type transfer). But whilst satisfying this little morsel of curisoity, I discovered something else that I found rather more interesting. This is what the article has to say about seahorse courtship:

"When two parties discover a mutual interest at the beginning of breeding season, they court for several days, even while others try to interfere. During this time they have been known to change color, swim side by side holding tails or grip the same strand of sea grass with their tails and wheel around in unison in what is known as their “pre-dawn dance”. They eventually engage in their “true courtship dance” lasting about 8 hours".

It then goes into the mechanics of the process, as mentioned above, and after that continues:

"Throughout the male’s pregnancy, his mate visits him daily for “morning greetings”. The female seahorse swims over for about 6 minutes of interaction reminiscent of courtship. “They change color, wheel around sea grass fronds, and finally promenade, holding each other’s tails.” "

(The internal quote comes from an article titled 'Pregnant-and Still Macho - seahorses', by Susan Milius, in Science News, March 11, 2000. By the way.)

Now because I'm an old softy, I did find the idea of these strange-looking creatures dancing with each other as they go through the experience of child-rearing quite touching. It's an undeniably beautiful image, and one for all the romantics out there. But, because I'm also an old logic-y, it didn't take long for my more sensible side to weigh in. The seahorses aren't dancing together because they're romantic; they don't even have the choice. They're following instinct, a pre-programmed biological operating system that has presumably come about due to some kind of evolutionary advantage. Or even, considering how fickle nature is, something that doesn't have all that much to do with helping the species but isn't harmful anough to be evolved out yet.

Being logical can be a real bastard sometimes.

But as well as being a romantic, and a realist, I also just can't let things go. I kept thinking about the seahorses. And I'm also (I like to think) an optimist. This doesn't mean, as some people think, naively hoping for things to turn out well. An optimist is someone who simply looks for a positive aspect to things. And that's what I got from learning about seahorses. Yes, I acknowledge that, to the creatures themselves, the dancing is meaningless. But it doesn't have to be that way for me.

I got something from learning about it, something that made me happy. If the world doesn't provide meaning on its own, then it is up to us to find it. Many of us do, and we can be criticised for it; we get called things like naive, childish, unrealistic, romantic (some people use this word like it's an insult). But it really is nothing to be ashamed of. Whether it's finding four-leaf clovers, climbing mountains that happen to be higher than other mountains, or watching the seahorses dance, we can make this world special. If and when we choose to.