Let me start with a case study of tolerance in human-pet relationships.
My dogs never refuse a rub, a pat, a craniosacral treatment (see picture), or a neck rub, even when it goes on too long during the morning meet-and-greet. Nope. They stand or sit there and wait and wait and wait until it's over. Patiently. Even if they have to pee badly.
'Yeah, so what? They like it,' you say, 'That's not tolerance. That's Pavlov, a conditioned response based on sensory pleasure. A toad might hang around if you gave it a back rub too.’
OK, smartass. I can prove that dogs will let you pet them even when they don't like it anymore and would frankly like to move on.
At bedtime, I drag my Beagle over to cuddle on my bed very frequently. He does not like this. Not when he's curled up elsewhere already and ready to snore. Usually, he reminds me of this by uttering a soft groan (of irritation).
Yet, he calmly puts up with me as I drag him over. He endures the rough belly rub only a human can deliver and waits for my hand to go limp so he can stand up, shake it off, and walk back to his 'spot' where he can lie down exactly where he had been before being so rudely interrupted.
During this 'annoying' interruption, he doesn't bark, growl, bite, or try to force himself out of my grip.
Why?
Because he's tolerant of his owner's weirdness (or my need for some cuddle love), and he knows I’m dominant in the relationship: tolerance and a clear status hierarchy.
And he indeed sees the bigger picture.
The good food. The excellent furniture. The nice people. AND the 'magic fingers.' The what? The magic fingers (see picture above). Human hands, people. Come on. Very few animals on Earth have ten super flexible fingers on two, count’em, two huge paws. And these magic fingers do things no dog could ever do for another dog. Not even your canine buddy's most fabulous ear lick can compare to the magic fingers.
We bred domestic dog breeds to bond intensely with us. So, the above 'tolerance' examples should be familiar to everyone. Experts call it docility. The magic fingers were a silent but critical part of the process—docility in exchange for access to those fingers. Anyone who gets massages weekly knows what I'm talking about.
But tolerance goes both ways.
We humans generally tolerate our dogs coming up to sit right next to us (most of the time), which they prefer, even though it violates our personal space standards. Even when they come way too close, such as the unwanted 'attack kisses' in the mornings, we still put up with them. We tolerate them draping their bodies across our legs or thighs. Some of us even tolerate doggy licks (and ear cleanings). Receiving the ear-cleaning is how you know you are incredibly dog-tolerant (or weird). My Staffordshire Terrier mix is convinced that there is honey in human ear canals (i.e., mine)! Or at least it seems that way, based on the frantic tongue jobs he gives. If I present my ear, the response is instantaneous and manic.
Dogs, specifically, are constantly annoying the crap out of us. So, there is no shortage of annoying habits to choose from if we want to complain:
They drop their hair and fur everywhere. And we clean it up.
They poop outside all over the place. And we clean that up too.
They chew on our dirty socks and underwear. And we buy more.
They climb counters looking for food. And we forgive.
They bring dead rabbits and frogs into the house to show us. And we laugh.
They roll in the dirt and track it all around the house. And we bathe them.
They drool all over our custom-made furniture. And we Bissell it clean.
They eat shoes, remotes, trash, books, magazines, toys, and homework. We yell. We scream, and then we shrug it off.
“They don't know any better”
“They can't clean up after themselves.”
“It's not their fault.”
“It's just how dogs are.”
Isn’t it fascinating how quickly we utter these very accepting phrases vis a vis our pets and how infrequently we utter them to describe supposedly close humans in our lives? Like family and friends?
Uncle Larry? He can't come over any more after he ranted about Trump that time.
Aunt Sally? I'm tired of her nitpicking about the dust in my house and the passive-aggressive recommendations for house cleaning services.
My friend Bob? He says weird sh*t that pisses off my wife, so I meet him at Gastropubs now, not at home. She can’t stand him.
I'm sure you have examples of people cutting other folks off for less than ‘nuclear’ offenses, especially friends and extended family, due to some perceived irritating habit or slight. Most of us have done this at least once because discarding relationships in modern America is easy! There aren’t any consequences in most cases. Why put up with annoying people when you don’t depend on them for anything? When no habitual, daily, or weekly acts of reciprocity bind you together?
Virtually all social science research on tolerance centers on intolerance of racial, gender, and sexual orientation differences. These are the hot-button axes of hate. Here's a classic social science definition of tolerance I found (while the authors argue for something different):
"Therefore, to tolerate someone or something, one first needs to experience disapproval or dislike, and then despite these negative sentiments exhibit permissiveness or acceptance" 1
I have not seen a statistically sound methodology to measure tolerance of interpersonal foibles and flaws. It's easier to create a survey instrument to measure orientation to extreme intolerance (i.e., extreme prejudice) because people who are that intolerant will admit it on an anonymous survey (or through their de-identified Google Searches; see Seth Davidowitz's fantastic book on the latter). It’s trickier to measure the middle ground of intolerance (e.g., being fed up with a friend’s sarcasm), which causes us to cut off a relative, a sibling, or a friend. We don’t acknowledge these micro instances of annoyance (except when discussing our kids and partners).
Right-wing thugs beat up transexuals for simply existing. That’s bigotry (maximum intolerance). On the other end, we dog owners put up with ALL of our dogs' behavioral transgressions in return for soft, furry cuddles. That is maximal tolerance.
I don’t see us being that tolerant of anyone except our children and spouses. Not even with our parents or siblings in some cases. We have unbelievably narrow circles of high tolerance these days.
And one of the reasons for this is buried in the text above. When there are no habitual… acts of reciprocity binding you together…
Hmm….
We are not bonded in a normal human way with the people we discard so easily. This is mainly because we do not spend time with them regularly. Repeated, interactive presence does lead to bonding. Eventually. So, we happily bond with our dogs, who annoy us, because we spend hours and hours with them every week or even every day (i.e. as we work!). And we happily bond with our children, who definitely annoy us regularly. I wrote recently about what real human bonding looks like beyond our immediate loved ones. Blood relations are NOT required for this to occur.
Another factor in our modern culture of intolerance, I believe, is our increasing view of ourselves as the self-appointed CEOs of our deeply personal social networks, curated per our desires and preferences, customized to our most inane criteria (e.g., I don’t like people who don’t dress well or who have too much ear hair or who don’t read the New Yorker).
As lifestyles have fragmented and multiplied, there is more superficial ‘difference’ to be offended by or to add to our growing list of peccadilloes.
Maybe we should all chill.
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Hjerm, M., Eger, M A., Bohman, A., Fors Connolly, F. (2020) A New Approach to the Study of Tolerance: Conceptualizing and Measuring Acceptance, Respect, and Appreciation of Difference Social Indicators Research, 147: 897-919 Access here - https://www.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:1345323/FULLTEXT02
The human - pet bond is one of the most fascinating studies on the power of deep emotional connection. Because dogs specifically can only interact with us through behaviors and seemingly have an endless supply of enthusiasm for our presence each and every day, we resonate to this in ways that are not replicated elsewhere in our lives. As I write this my two dogs are at my feet in my office. If thy leave to investigate some noise, thy will return within 15 minutes to assume their companion position. If I leave to do something like take out the trash, the reaction upon return is hilariously full of jump up and down excitement. I was gone for 90 seconds. In the marketing world it is amazing to me that pet brands routinely ignore this treasure trove of emotional connectivity, replacing it with fact-based outreach on product formulation features. Given the relative sameness in pet nutrition solutions, this reflexive move sits at the root of rampant sameness and similarity across brands. With few exceptions, brands fail to see the magic in the relationship you describe where the emotional heartbeat takes root and serves as the connective tissue we enjoy with our four-legged family members.
Another home run. Thank you.