“Fish? You’re making me feel guilty because I just bought frozen grouper patties to grill. Now, I’ll be depressed when I eat them. Not.”
“Well, you really don’t have to feel guilty. Mikko isolated himself by eating any other fish the keepers put in the tank. His loneliness was for the most part self-imposed. But he seems to have gotten used to having visitors around the tank; when they are present, he seems to be happy.”
“If the fish’s misery was worsened by his own actions, then should we be concerned?”
“Well, we can act compassionately toward those who get themselves into trouble. Yeah, Mikko caused his own loneliness by eating the other fish in the tank, but he did so without regard for or cognizance of his own future. It’s not as though he said, ‘Give me fish, and I’ll eat for a day.’ I don’t think Mikko was thinking, ‘Train me to conserve, and I’ll be happy for a lifetime.’ And I don’t think Mikko knew ahead of time that his actions would lead to depression. Certainly, even though his keepers put a TV next to his aquarium, he didn’t understand that a pandemic had chased away his regular bevy of visitors, making him realize that if he ate all the fish in his tank, he would have no company during the COVID-19 crisis.”
“I have to wonder whether or not Mikko’s ‘depression’ is a real depression. Should we ascribe human emotions to a fish’s behavior? Isn’t that projection gone off the deep end?”
“Maybe, but look at how other non-humans act in the absence of company. Dogs, for example. Some refuse to eat, or they just lie around whining when their owners are absent for an extended period. Isn’t that a little more than projected human depression? Who’s to say a fish could not feel depressed when company’s absent?”
“But you have to ascribe some blame to Mikko. He did eat everyone.”
“Sure, and as Homer has Zeus say, ‘Man has only himself to blame if his miseries are worse than they ought to be.’ We’re the composers of our own sad songs, the authors of our own woe. It seems to me that in our own problems, our addictions, and in the absence of biochemical causes, our own sadness or depression, we reap what we sow. Wait! I want to rethink that metaphor. Sowing implies a sense of a future. Mikko lives in the present. He doesn’t save for any future, doesn’t plan for any future. And that might be the circumstance for some humans caught in non-biochemical sadness or addiction. It’s the present that counts; it’s the future that lacks consideration. And then other humans have to intervene just as the aquarium keepers had to intervene for Mikko. Do you realize how much human energy is devoted to helping those who act without regard for their futures?”
“Gives counselors, psychotherapists, psychologists, psychiatrists endless work. There are more human Mikkos out there than we can count, and every day more are born. There’s always a next generation of those who will live without regard for their futures. Maybe there’s something built in, kind of like bears eating as much as they can during the abundance of summer, but then, I guess bears do it for the coming winter. I don’t think human Mikkos plan for their coming winters. Other fish in the tank? Abundance now? Eat away, even though a fish in a tank can’t go out into a big ocean to find more fish to eat, but is, rather, dependent on some outside source, the human caretaker.”
“Mikko might be a living lesson we should teach to children. His story might make a good bedtime story. Knowing it, fewer children might grow up to be sad or addicted. Knowing it, more children might grow up with an eye on the ramifications of their actions.”
*Weisberger, Mindy. Famous fish that ate all his friends gets cheered up by 16th birthday party. LiveScience, October 22, 2020. Online at https://www.livescience.com/mikko-sad-grouper.html?utm_source=Selligent&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=9160&utm_content=LVS_newsletter+&utm_term=2816625&m_i=G3eG0662kV0w0TPjTI5TS0NhgmkseP50J66PdGMXFqWSLwFovZqdkfsxuWQa33gyY9AME27MPYbpirzKIpmiTp6aChP24AKcXwiYPhGGGr