Bird of the Week: American Crow, Again
Yeah we’re playing this song again and turning the volume all the way up.
They say you can never go home again, but I don’t think that phrase applies when it comes to revisiting beloved birds. They never get old, and they never disappoint. The world can betray you, people can let you down, empires can rise and fall, but the birds are eternally gold.
That’s why, this week, I’m ripping up the Bird of the Week playbook (there is no Bird of the Week playbook) and returning to what might be the most lauded bird in Discourse Blog history??
That’s right, I’m talking about the American crow.
We love the crow here, though it bears repeating that it’s not our mascot. We’ve celebrated the hell out of these wicked smart, highly evolved, resourceful, playful, cooperative, and all-around fascinating birds. We’ve called them the “perfect bird” and you agreed! You all voted to crown the crow—holy shit, you can’t spell crown without crow!—as the winner of our 2023 Fowl Hysteria tournament. Pour one out for our runner up the kea though, which is a chaotic and brilliant bird in its own right.
I’m not returning to the crow because of my warm and fuzzy feelings toward it. Certainly we can all use some comfort these days, and appreciation for the good and pure things in life. That’s all well and good. But I find myself returning to the crow because of a very specific characteristic, which Jack noted in his coronation post after the crow won our avian tournament:
“Crows can recognize human faces, to the point that they remember which humans they consider to be enemies, and can pass this information on to other crows. They can hold these specific grudges for generations.”
The faces thing? Very cool, and pretty well known. The GRUDGES thing? Hell yes, iconic behavior.
(Also, shoutout to the scientists who used a Dick Cheney mask as the detestable face in their crow studies. Well done, lads.)
I was reminded of this fact because The New York Times ran a piece recently on exactly how crows express their rancor: with relentless dive bombing, physical attacks, and all-around harassment. If the propulsive nature of their bitterness wasn’t enough, they also have spectacular longevity. Scientists have observed disgruntlement in crows lasting up to 17 YEARS. They’re also known to inflict an airing of grievances even on those who simply look like their target. Is that an error made in the heat of the moment, a general assumption of characteristics based on appearance, or a carnal urge too powerful to reason with? I don’t know, but I respect the hell out of it.
If you look up crow grudges, you’ll find a world of reading material including Reddit threads recounting crow attacks, as well as many videos of corvids attacking people (and yes, sadly, other birds). Some of these are seriously gnarly!
I don’t think I really need to explain why such behavior might be appealing to any given person for any given set of reasons at this moment. And so, as the week comes to a close, and I’m feeling more tired, scared, and angry than ever, I find myself considering the crow. I’m ruminating on their aggression, and the flame of umbrage they not only keep alive in themselves but pass on to each other. Crows are united in their grievances. They don’t just shoulder them together, they act on them together. They are social creatures for the good times and the bad. That is true solidarity.
Our own collective list of enemies is growing by the day, and despite my own current proclivity toward staring at the ceiling until I pass out, I’m trying to remember to hold onto my dissatisfaction and ill will. Much has been said in the last two weeks about the danger of disenfranchisement, isolation, and despair, and I feel more aware than ever of our tendencies to take care of ourselves and ourselves alone. It’s a very human instinct, it seems.
Perhaps instead of trying to locate our increasingly absent humanity, we should consider channeling avian-ity. To focus on the fight, and reject anything resembling complacency or timidity. To hold onto each other and our anger, and never forget exactly who or what we’re fighting against. To caw louder than ever, fuck shit up, spread the word, and make our adversaries regret the day they underestimated us. The battle will be long, no doubt. Our fury must last even longer.
A reminder: you can check out our complete Bird of the Week list here, and get in touch with your bird suggestions at hello@discourseblog.com.
It’s the best bird. I love a good grudge. This piece reminds me I need to cultivate more
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!
To quote the late, great Jack Terricloth, "I wouldn't want to live in a world without grudges." Nor would I want to live in a world without crows.
My week began with spotting a crow harassing a red-tailed hawk over the building at the end of my block, and ended with seeing two crows and a herring gull shit-talking each other on top of a different building. Not the worst way to bookend the morning commutes this week.