My wife and I recently returned from our first trip to Greece. Between a busy schedule of espresso, sailing, hiking, pilgrimages to historical sites, and simply working our way through the Hellenistic empire, one thing in particular caught my eye: cats. Cats everywhere. On the street, on our feet, in the bar, in the car. Our friends in Athens had mentioned this; the cats are largely residents of the city. It’s an arrangement that goes back millennia: cats were seen as lucky and as protectors against evil spirits; the goddesses Artemis, Aphrodite and Athena were often seen in the company of cats and if Greek mythology has taught me anything, it’s that you shouldn’t mess with the gods or the local wildlife (I’m looking at you, Zeus). There was also a practical aspect: cats helped keep rodents out of granaries and other pests in check, while the winding, narrow alleys that serve as streets provide shelter and a stable food source.
But what struck me was the organization of the felines. Regardless of whether you were in Athens, or Nafplion, or Ithaca, or Meteora, or Mount Olympus, the cats generally behaved the same. Sometimes they were solitary or sometimes in small groups, but their manners were always excellent. You will always find a cat at your feet, preferably in a sunny spot, patiently watching you and waiting for your meal until you make the right decision to drop part of your dish on the floor. They would never climb on the table or scratch your leg impatiently; Honestly, my cats could learn something from it. If anyone, a cat or a person, violated the code, they were quickly corrected.
One day, while enjoying a cup of coffee in Ithaca, we were discussing this phenomenon with a local friend of ours. Another tourist remarked uninvited: ‘It’s best not to feed the cats. They really are a nuisance.” I honestly couldn’t imagine a more stupid statement! In addition to being a childless catman, we witnessed a social order that spontaneously emerged from the self-interest of each party.
FA Hayek argued that many constructs were examples of spontaneous orders, and given this development of cross-species laws and moral codes, I am inclined to agree. Essentially, this posh tourist’s view was that people were in a better position to distribute resources. Stray animals are an inefficient use of limited resources that could be better spent in other ways. If I hadn’t been busy accidentally dropping part of a sardine on the ground near my feline shadow, I might have replied. No single person or planning body has all the knowledge to allocate resources effectively. We are best suited to allocate our resources based on all of our needs, values, perceptions, and circumstances. We are able to influence each other’s behavior to develop a social norm that promotes mutual prosperity and evolutionary survival.
But maybe I’m thinking too much about the interactions between community cats and their adopted humans. Maybe all there is here is a little fish, a soft “thank you” purr, and then we part, on to other parts of our lives. But even if all my growing philosophical thoughts about spontaneous order are nothing but a bunch of hooey, with a velvety espresso in my hand, the warm sun on my face and a gentle cat keeping me company, I’m okay with that.
Dennis Murphy is a professional pilot with a background in aviation safety, accident investigation and causality. When he’s not flying 737s, he enjoys the company of his wife, their dogs, cats and bees.