It wasn’t until her bikini thong hit me in the face that I recognized her. It was the sophomore from Holy Cross College I’d interviewed yesterday who had said her deepest desire was to marry a mature gentleman who would see her not just as a piece of flesh but as the intelligent entrepreneur she plotted to be. I didn’t recognize her up on that stripper pole on the beach amid all this Spring Break mayhem. She had complained it was hard to land a excellent man with all these loose girls sending the incorrect impression.
As I untangled her thong from my glasses, I realized I was face-to-face with the dual nature of the human female: a paradox wrapped inside an enigma who is perpetually exasperated that guys “just don’t get it.” For centuries, male minstrels have romanticized their own cluelessness in sonnets and songs, and we transhumanist males should salute them, because these prancing poets were proto-nerds bereft of the benefits of endocrinology.
Fantastic news. Two researchers at UCLA, Elizabeth Pillsworth and Martie Haselton, place the kibosh on feminine mystique. They published “Women’s Sexual Strategies: The Evolution of Long-Term Bonds and Extrapair Sex,” a study that tells us what women want, who they boink, when, and why, plus why they make seduction more complicated than if/then/else constructs in open source Fortran. We are the first generation of men to have scientific access to the unconscious motives of the human female. Science nerds are hereby empowered to get girlfriends. Ka-ching!
Pillsworth and Haselton assembled over 250 academic papers on such diverse topics as hunter-gatherer societies, bird and mammal behavior, and cruel psychological tricks on college students. They compared these against blood tests, sperm counts, immune responses, pheromone output, and vaginal fluid viscosity, then broke it all down to a few basic principles even an average Joe can know. (That’d be me.) I headed to Spring Break in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, so I could observe these principles at work in the courtship behavior of drunken beach apes.
Notes From The Field
When I stepped onto the beach in my research gear, the first thing I observed was members of the species performing a fantastic deal of “lekking.” This is biologese for strutting your stuff for the opposite sex. Lekking is common among many species who court mates in sand, like blue-footed boobies who flash their feet, and humans, who flash their boobies and sometimes shoot their bikini thongs like rubber bands at researchers trying to concentrate. Apparently my safari hat wasn’t allowing me to blend in.
As I made data notations in my clipboard, the DJ at the beach house announced it was the men’s turn to ascend the stripper pole. Topless male pole dancing on the beach is a lot like topless female pole dancing, except not sexy and more perilous, and in some cases the boobs are larger. It’s performed drunk, with a running start and no previous training.
Contestants start at the beach house. Waiting on the beach is a Mexican with a shot of tequila and a Corona. Thirty feet behind him, sticking out of ankle-deep surf, is a pole. The object is to sprint from the beach house to the Mexican, perform the double chug, sprint into the surf up to the pole, spin around it ten times, then dizzily sprint back to the beach house, hopefully with some mishaps and vomiting along the way.
What’s truly hair-raising about this event is that the field of play is packed with innocent bystanders who have no thought they are standing on an obstacle course, and they are the obstacles. Over the next fifteen minutes, I would witness more spectacular collisions than at the bull runs in Spain. Naturally this led to tussles and dominance displays among the beach apes, earning one spaz the apt moniker “the Stripper Pole A-Hole” (SPAH.)
When SPAH finished bullying all the other males, he approached several bikini-clad babes, who each turned their shoulder to him. I watched him work his way down the attractiveness hierarchy. He was unanimously ostracized.
But here’s the point of the tale: After sundown, I observed through my infrared binoculars that a Holy Cross girl snuck back to her hotel room with SPAH. I tallied seven females publicly turn him down, and one secretly run off with him. This is about the ratio of fertile to non-fertile days off the month, and that’s no coincidence.
Gentlemen, if we seek to transform ourselves from dweebs to Casanovas, we must know the menstrual cycle. The “Sexual Strategies” team assembled all the relevant academic papers, many of them co-authored by Steven W. Gangestad and Randy Thornhill, and uncovered the Huge Secret festering in female motivations. It turns out women are afflicted with their own version of the male Madonna/Whore Complex. It’s called….
The Nice Guy/Terrible Boy Torment
When it comes to passing on their genes, women inherit a Dual Agenda. They need a secure nest for fifteen years to raise a healthy baby. And they need excellent genes to make a healthy baby. The best nest might come from her husband. The best genes might come from somebody else’s husband. It’s hard to get both in the same guy. Nest-securing and gene-sneaking are separable strategies, what Pillsworth and Haselton call “two overlapping suites of psychological adaptations in women.” I call them the Toby McGuire Desire and the Tommy Lee Turn-On. Basically, it goes like this:
Ovulating? She’s attracted to strong jaws, perilous behavior, symmetry, is highly orgasmic, and, if married, she is more likely to commit adultery during those three to four fertile days of the month. Is she in the non-fertile phase of her cycle? She’s attracted to kind, amusing, attentive gentlemen with income potential. She also prefers men with softer “feminine” features, meaning she wants cute rather than handsome.
I contemplated how this research could illuminate the pick-up attempts of Chauncey, an athletic freshman from Seattle and first-place winner in the Belly Flop Olympics and runner-up in the belching contest. The night of his success, I spotted him strutting through the bubble party like a shark fin. Falteringly, he introduced himself to a blonde with a Mai Tai. She turned her back and kept talking to her friend. He slunk away.
Chances are you’re neither the Toby McGuire nor the Tommy Lee of your group of apes, but somewhere in the ambivalent middle. How do you get your share? Here’s the tough part….
Self-confidence cannot be faked.
Most cognitive tests show that women and girls in every culture are superior at reading body language, faces, and tones of voice, and they pick up on cues that men are not aware of. The average effect size (r) of this sex difference in decoding nonverbal cues hovers around .20 to .25 in every meta-study devised. Psychologist Judith Hall, who spent decades compiling this research, says, “Such consistency over geography and hundreds of studies is truly remarkable.”
We shouldn’t be too surprised. Among all social primates, females are experts at reading the history of a male monkey’s social success in how he carries himself, which, crucially, he cannot fake. The female detection mechanism will always be more subtle than the male’s ability to fake it. Otherwise, any ancient schlump monkey could fake a strut and sweep her off her feet. Females are attuned to unconscious manifestations of confidence. Trying to consciously control your body language will turn a natural swagger into an adolescent pimp limp.
Fantastic, you say. I fetch coffee for the data entry guys at a bankrupt startup. So how do I exude the silverback success I haven’t earned yet?
Be a Freud, not a Frodo.
Jane Goodall spent forty-five years off and on in the Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania watching what she calls a “chimp soap opera.” The classic season of this jungle drama occurred in the early nineties, when two strapping young brothers, Freud and Frodo, competed for top rank in a band of over forty chimps.
Frodo, says Goodall, “showed all the signs of an alpha chimp in the making.” He was “brash, aggressive,” while Freud was “very laid back.” Frodo, the largest and most successful hunter, rarely shared his meat. Freud, smaller and less successful, always shared. Frodo rarely groomed lower ranking chimps, but loved to be on the receiving end of suck-ups. Freud frequently groomed lower-ranking chimps.
Which chimp do you reckon won the alpha spot and was lavished with all the groupies that go with the job? Freud. Goodall says Freud “went quietly into top-ranking position with very small fuss. And he is very confident in his position.”
Among social primates who survive on cooperation, brawn and aggression isn’t nearly as attractive to females as social respect. Every time Freud and the larger, younger, louder Frodo faced off in front of the band, Frodo the spaz backed down. The band preferred to support the male who had the most confidence and didn’t scream and bully to make up for his insecurity complex. You know the guy. The less he has to say, the louder he needs to say it. He probably works in your office.
Research establishing that women prefer socially-dominant men has made a lot of jocks who read Maxim reckon they have a free pass to be bullies and loudmouths. But being domineering is not the same as dominant. A right leader establishes his position not by coercion, but by earning the respect of other apes. This results in a sense of self-possession that can only emerge after experience with social success. Female primates can tell the difference and boink accordingly.
Dr. Charlotte Uhlenbroek is doubly qualified to know, because she is not only a primatologist but a hottie. “Freud is just something special,” she says in her BBC interview for Online Nature, and she elaborates in her BBC documentary TV series Chimpanzee Diary: “Frodo may be dominant, but he’s not well loved, and he usually finds himself alone while the others groom amicably. In the end, Frodo must resort to threats to get attention. Friendship, though, can’t be forced.”
Chances are you’re not the Freud of your group of forty apes, nor are you the zeta male, but somewhere in the undistinguished middle. How do you score some Spring Break lovin’? Here’s the excellent news.
Women designed your brain to get you laid.
When it comes to designing animals, females rule. In fact, female choice is responsible for much of what we consider spectacular in nature. Darwin wrote a whole book about the evolutionary power of female choice, The Descent of Man, and Selection with Relation to Sex, and male theorists spent the next century desperately trying to ignore. But that darn scientific method persists in humbling us. To the heartbreak of social Darwinists, evidence shows that the evolution of extravagant traits has less to do with violence than courtship.
Evolution is two forces: natural selection and sexual selection. We hear a lot about natural selection, where species compete viciously for food in their harsh environments. Well, it turns out natural selection is a very slow force in evolution. A much quicker and more explosive force is sexual selection, which is driven by members of the same species competing with each other for mates. This is because the harsh environment doesn’t care who it selects, whereas a horny animal cares very much who it selects. Natural selection helps you survive. It makes body parts efficient: claws, kidneys, wings, feet. Sexual selection helps you get laid. It makes body parts spectacular: manes, wattles, musk, antlers — anything impractical designed to show off and impress.
The classic case of sexual selection is the peacock’s tail. If you’re a peahen, and you find huge tails sexy, you’re going to keep having sex with males with huge tails. Female peahens are, in effect, artificially breeding males for the qualities they want. After 100,000 generations of this breeding tournament, you end up with the splendiferous peacock’s tail, designed by female choice. Can you reckon of any other organ in nature that evolved as explosively as the peacock’s tail?
Keep thinking ….
Your brain, Einstein! Our brains tripled in size in well under three million years, much quicker than could reasonably be expected by natural selection. Why? Because your brain is a giant courtship device. Somewhere on the Pleistocene savanna, Australopithecine men and women chose fancy brain displays were sexually attractive. Dr. Geoff Miller, author of The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped The Evolution of Human Nature, says we developed “humor, tale-telling, gossip, art, music, self-consciousness, ornate language, imaginative ideologies, religion, morality,” all to earn social respect and thus intrigue admirers. The oversized human brain might be the product of sexual selection, the drive to diddle.
In a study, Haselton and Miller presented female subjects with men’s resumes. Some guys had inherited wealth. Others were broke but talented. Even though women desire economic security in their quest for a nest, Haselton and Miller predicted that ovulating women would prefer the talented broke guy over the average rich guy. When they ran the double-blind test, it turned out that ovulating women preferred creative intelligence over riches, especially when they chose men as one-night stands.
Wit wins out over wealth.
Miller made the astonishing observation that vocabulary is purely ornamental, the dazzles and filigrees on a peacock tail. You have a vocabulary of about 60,000 words. Yet 98% of what you say comprises only 4000 words. So what are the other 56,000 words excellent for?
I saw the answer in Chuck, a junior from a North Carolina college who was perpetually surrounded by a giggling gaggle of admirers. Portly, prematurely losing his hairline, chinless — Chuck was not a beach stud by any stretch. But Chuck was amusing. A spectacular storyteller. The women couldn’t get enough of his tales and witticisms. All the beach studs could do was stand around and flex, jealously.
Frat fellahs, I don’t care if the pickup technique does work for the Siamang gibbon, I didn’t observe a single Spring Break ape seduce a female by screeching “Woooo!” We need wit to woo. Your peacock tail is your human tale, shimmering, bedazzling, bewitching, and seducing women with the wondrous power of your largest organ.
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