Can we get back to our simian sensibilities?

TWO stories in the same edition of The Guardian online sprang out at me this week. Both appeared on the same day in different sections but seemed strangely resonant and connected. One concerned the reaction of Chimpanzees in captivity to the death of one of their number and the other related to a crisis of conscience in New York City.

In the Big Apple, there is much hand-wringing in recent days following the publication on the New York Post website of footage which shows a homeless man lying on the footpath bleeding and dying for over an hour while members of the public walk past him, ignoring his plight. The terrible twist in the tale is that the man sustained his fatal injuries while trying to help a woman who was being mugged. The several stab wounds he received to the chest for his trouble ultimately killed him but the intervention of an equally good Samaritan, as himself, might have spared him from that fate.
In fact, two of the people who watched him die felt it more important to document his distress on a mobile phone than help him. Watching the footage, it is hard not to feel a little uneasy. They stand, look, and rather than even call the emergency services, take a snap to show to friends later or, even more unsettlingly, review on their own. All in all, the story proved a nasty stain on humanity’s report card.
The Chimpanzee story on the other hand had the opposite effect. It appeared to humanise the animals. It describes the death of Pansy, the oldest chimp in captivity in the UK. In the final hours of her terminal illness, a number of her extended family, “huddled around, studied her face and shook her gently as if to revive her. And when the others had drifted away, one stayed behind to hold her hand.” The footage shows very clearly that the animals, noted and lauded in equal measure for their ability to empathise and display signs of self-awareness, were suffering some form of higher sense of loss. Their acknowledgement of impending death, seeming understanding of it and desire to make the process as comfortable as possible for the elderly matriarch is being hailed as a revolutionary event in the field of animal study. It seems to indicate that our closest biological cousins are more like us than we had given them credit for, that they too can experience emotions as advanced as grief, loss and concern.
My initial reaction was to tut loudly and complain that maybe humans are not all they are cracked up to be and that people are somehow personally to blame for their heartlessness. Wasn’t this evidenced by the actions of the New Yorkers? Certainly I would question the actions of the amateur photographers in the case of the man who died in a pool of blood on the New York street but were the others thinking clearly?
There were a number of factors to be considered before a judgment could be reached. The man was who died was Hugo Tale-Yax. He was 31 years of age, homeless and an immigrant. The 25 people who walked past him as he died were living in what they are told is one of the world’s most dangerous cities and exposed every day to media and a socialization, which tells them that the person lying there bleeding is a threat to them.
Edinburgh is often lauded as one of the world’s great cities. When one spends time in social situations, one is often reminded that it is Scotland’s London and equal to that city in all but scale and crime statistics. In reality, it has a very grim underbelly which is there in plain sight for anyone who wishes to look. A good way to illustrate the difference between reality and perception might be to use this example. The author, Irvine Welsh, set his totemic novel Trainspotting in Edinburgh but when the film version was made it was filmed almost exclusively in Glasgow. That city had the visual potential that Edinburgh lacked but the same problems exist in both cities.
To the media, however, Glasgow is a dangerous, drug-addled place where one is never safe whilst Edinburgh is the home of festivals, fun, tourist attractions and the Scottish Parliament. This is not to say that we should feel safe because according to the media, we are all under threat all the time. On a recent walk, I was greeted by the news that a pensioner was mugged here while he visited the grave of his daughter; I was afraid for the rest of the excursion. 
I laughed with my wife at my irrationality this week because, having watched a BBC production on the way, crooks were out to scam and steal in a hundred ingenious ways, I felt so under threat that I was suspicious of the man who came to survey our flat for loft insulation.  
In most cases, the people who walked past that dying man did not do so because they did not care. I bet they did so because they were terrified. I ask myself if I would stop and in actual fact, I feel I would not. Because I am told every day on radio, TV and the internet I would be an idiot to do so.
The media monster, which gave birth to the beast of suspicion and fear in society is now turning around and berating its victims. It is as if a dragon turned around, in exaggerated shock, taking a dim view of the people burned by the fiery breath of its offspring.
We single the chimps out for particular praise for displaying what we see as higher function, emotion and behaviour that we feel reflects our own better nature but warn loudly against engaging in similar actions ourselves.