Going against instinct, while necessary, is still unpleasant. Making choices by external factors can be unsettling. Being Skinner's pigeon only guarantees feed.
I dodged trouble tonight, literally. The prime mover in my New Year's decision to run with less rough trade called, and but for a fortunate distraction at the crosswalk I might have answered. Because water finds its own level, and staying the course is easier than change.
That didn't happen. The call went to voicemail; she didn't leave a message. I didn't call back.
It is unintuitive and unpleasant. Behavioralism can only keep me out of dangerous situations, it can't make me not miss them. Skinner never asked the pigeons if they'd rather fly, and Harlow let the monkeys stay with the "evil mothers" when they found the terrycloth more comforting than wire. I have an nasty urge to channel Anthony Burgess for his feelings on free will.
But a sober look at the alternatives paints a bleak picture. I'll take the Tin Man over nothing at all.
Sometimes I miss the Henry Vilas Zoo.