Possession Obsession
Last weekend I popped down to visit a dear friend of mine for a coffee. She has two adorable kids who are funny and clever, and I’m always amazed by the cheeky but bright things they say despite being only three and six years old.
The sublime serenity of my visit was thwarted when, three hours after my arrival, it was decided that it was time for Master Six to turn off the video game he’d been playing since I arrived.
Within minutes of the electronics powering down, mayhem was unleashed as the kids took to the most common form of sibling interaction – arguing over the same toy.
The toy in question was a Lego block construction of some sort. Miss Three wanted to pull it apart while Master Six tried to pull it out of her grasp. As most parents are likely to do, Master Six was strongly encouraged to share his things and allow his younger sister to play with the Lego pieces she was holding, especially given he had three times as many Lego to play with in his toy box.
“It’s not fair that other people are allowed to play with my stuff when it’s MY stuff!” huffed Master Six, stomping away.
As he bemoaned the injustice of his situation, I realised two things: firstly, I completely agreed with him, and, secondly, I’ve reacted exactly the same way…recently!
The latest studies and parenting guides suggest that forcing children to share is a pointless exercise; their young brains are not yet developed enough to grasp the meaning of altruism or generosity which generally lead to a motivation to share, instead they are dominated by their innate territorial instincts which drive them to jealously guard what is theirs.
You would presume that as adults we would have grown out of this kind of behaviour, but think again. No matter how much we were told as children to share our things, I have to come believe that humans are simply not wired to do so.
Sharing may be caring and the opposite a sure sign of a selfish nature, but the truth is, we are all ferocious when it comes to protecting what we believe or perceive to be ours.
Nothing gets me more fired up than coming home to find someone has parked in my parking spot. It’s not just that the off-street car spaces are on private property, or that each spot is clearly marked with a unit number – it’s that I literally own those 15 square meters of ground; that particular car space is listed on the deed of ownership of my apartment. It’s MINE!
A very fine line distinguishes possession and ownership. While the latter is generally objective and can be supported by evidence, the former is far more subjective, open to interpretation, and debatable. No doubt we can all be justified in wanting to hold onto what we own, but oftentimes, we are in possession of something that is not ours and yet we are no less jealous of it.
Not long ago, a friend of mine – a staunch Leftie bordering on Socialist – was in a state of sheer apoplexy when she learned of a residential development that would result in her losing part of her view. Living on the top floor of a five-storey building in the outer-city suburb of Ultimo, she has the privilege of 270-degree views stretching from the city skyline to her right, sweeping round to the west on her left where the sun tucks itself in for the night.
She railed against the injustice of this development taking away HER view. It didn’t matter that she still had a stunning 180-degree view of the city to the other side, nor, ironically, that the development was to create more desperately-needed social housing. She was in possession of that view and she was unwilling to relinquish it.
But does possessing something justify our unrelenting claim over it? And even if it doesn’t, should we be blasé in surrendering it? Sure, you can declare that possession is nine-tenths of the law, but tell that to our Indigenous compatriots!
Think of how offended we all were when the Americans trademarked the Ugg boot, forever banning us from laying claim on its invention – the whole nation was up in arms! And how did you feel when China laid a sovereign claim over the South China Sea and started building islands in the middle of it? They possess it, is it theirs now?
Our visceral reaction to the thought of losing possession over something, or even potentially losing possession over something, is a complex psychological minefield. Jealousies and dangerous tantrums play out on the grandest scale as well as on the most mundane platforms.
It all, however, has root in our most primal territorial instincts. So look out! I may club you on the head if I catch you parking in my spot!