Futility Closet - 226-The Great Match Race

Episode Date: November 26, 2018

America's first national sports spectacle took place in 1823, when the North and South sent their best horses for a single dramatic race that came to symbolize the regional tensions of a changing nation. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll tell the story of the Great Match Race, which laid the foundations of modern American thoroughbred racing. We'll also ponder a parasite's contribution to culture and puzzle over a misinformed criminal. Intro: Quentin Tarantino's cast and crew left greetings to his editor in their work. The first subject in Anton Reicha's Fugue No. 18 is a single note repeated 34 times. Sources for our feature on the Great Match Race: John Eisenberg, The Great Match Race, 2006. Nancy L. Struna, "The North-South Races: American Thoroughbred Racing in Transition, 1823-1850," Journal of Sport History 8:2 (Summer 1981), 28-57. Paul E. Johnson, "Northern Horse: American Eclipse as a Representative New Yorker," Journal of the Early Republic 33:4 (Winter 2013), 701-726. Katherine Carmines Mooney, Race Horse Men: Slavery and Freedom at the Nineteenth-Century Racetrack, dissertation, Yale University, 2012. Richard Nash, "Joy and Pity: Reading Animal Bodies in Late Eighteenth-Century Culture," Eighteenth Century 52:1 (Spring 2011), 47-67. Michael S. Rosenwald, "Before Justify, There Was Eclipse and a Horse-Racing War Between North And South," Washington Post, May 19, 2018. Oswald West, "Famous Horses and Horsemen of the Pioneer Period," Oregon Historical Quarterly 46:2 (June 1945), 140-155. C.C. Colden, "The Great Match Race Between Eclipse and Sir Henry," Frank Forester's Horse and Horsemanship, 1857, 184-194. Max Farrand, "The Great Race -- Eclipse Against the World!" Scribner's Magazine 70:4 (October 1921), 457-464. "The Match Race," The Port Folio 16:255 (July 1823), 81-83. W.E. Beard, "The War of the Roses," Trotwood's Monthly 3:2 (November 1906), 178-189. "The Running Turf in America," Harper's New Monthly Magazine 241:41 (June 1870), 91-97. Famous Horses of America, 1877. James Douglas Anderson and Balie Peyton, Making the American Thoroughbred, 1916. Listener mail: Kevin D. Lafferty, "Can the Common Brain Parasite, Toxoplasma gondii, Influence Human Culture?" Proceedings of the Royal Society of London B: Biological Sciences 273:1602 (2006), 2749-2755. Jaroslav Flegr, "Influence of Latent Toxoplasma Infection on Human Personality, Physiology and Morphology: Pros and Cons of the Toxoplasma–Human Model in Studying the Manipulation Hypothesis," Journal of Experimental Biology 216:1 (2013), 127-133. Jaroslav Flegr, Marek Preiss, and Jirí Klose, "Toxoplasmosis-Associated Difference in Intelligence and Personality in Men Depends on Their Rhesus Blood Group but Not Abo Blood Group," PLoS One 8:4 (2013), e61272. M. Novotná et al. "Toxoplasma and Reaction Time: Role of Toxoplasmosis in the Origin, Preservation and Geographical Distribution of Rh Blood Group Polymorphism," Parasitology 135:11 (2008), 1253-1261. Jaroslav Flegr et al. "Neurophysiological Effect of the Rh Factor: Protective Role of the RhD Molecule Against Toxoplasma-Induced Impairment of Reaction Times in Women," Neuroendocrinology Letters 29:4 (2008), 475. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener John Levine. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on Google Podcasts, on Apple Podcasts, or via the RSS feed at https://futilitycloset.libsyn.com/rss. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- you can choose the amount you want to pledge, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation on the Support Us page of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at [e-mail]. Thanks for listening!

Welcome to the Futility Closet podcast, forgotten stories from the pages of history. Visit us online to sample more than 10,000 quirky curiosities from Tarantino's editor to a monotonous fugue. This is episode 226. I'm Greg Ross. And I'm Sharon Ross. America's first national sports spectacle took place in 1823, when the North and South sent their best horses for a single dramatic race

that came to symbolize the regional tensions of a changing nation. In today's show, we'll tell the story of the Great Match Race, which laid the foundations of modern American thoroughbred racing. We'll also ponder a parasite's contribution to culture and puzzle over a misinformed criminal. In the early 1800s, spectator sports didn't exist. Most Americans worked at exhausting physical jobs 10 hours a day, six days a week, and for recreation they went to taverns or theaters, read, sang, played cards, attended fairs, or discussed politics. The one exception was horse racing.

Before the American Revolution, gentlemen from different regions would hold friendly races for the sake of colonial pride or personal fortune, and around 1800 they began to form jockey clubs and build tracks where they could race thoroughbreds imported from England. The South had a sophisticated tradition of horse racing. It was said that a man left home for only three reasons, to worship at church, to appear in court, or to attend a race. But one northern horse had become a thorn in their side. Eclipse, a chestnut stallion with an illustrious English pedigree, had a career record of seven wins in seven starts, including four wins

in a row over Southern horses in the space of 13 months. The latest defeat, in Washington, D.C., in November 1822, had taken place before 6,000 people, including President James Monroe. The Virginia horseman William Ransom Johnson wanted revenge. Eclipse was getting older, and the Southerners thought they could beat him if they got another chance. They proposed another contest, and Eclipse's trainer, Cornelius Van Ranst, proud and confident, agreed. He would race Eclipse on Long Island the following May against any horse the Southerners chose for a stake of $20,000. The prospect of the race spread excitement throughout the country. The South prided itself on its expertise, and Johnson in particular was known as the Napoleon of the turf. In one span of two years, his horses had won 61 out of 63 races. On the other hand, Eclipse

was probably the finest racehorse in the country at that time and seemed almost invincible, though he'd be nine years old at the time of the race. Beyond the world of racing, the event took on huge symbolic significance. The Civil War still lay decades in the future, but regional tensions were already rising. Southerners had controlled the presidency for almost 25 years, farmed crops for the nation, and protected their right to own slaves. But the North was fighting back in politics, investing in industry rather than agriculture, and rising against slavery. A northern candidate, John Quincy Adams, was faring well in polls for the presidency, and the Erie Canal would soon be opening, increasing the flow of goods to New York. For a nation grappling with these divisive issues,

horse racing was the only realm outside politics in which North and South could tangibly contend. Before this, the largest crowds in America had been drawn by political rallies, prayer revivals, and holiday parades. But now a contest between the fastest horses in the North and the South threatened to outdo all of these. In an era before baseball, football, or basketball, the Great Match Race would become America's first national sports spectacle. The race itself would be demanding, much more so than today's races. In the early 1800s, the most prestigious races for mature horses were run in four-mile heats. The horses would run four miles, rest for a fixed time, run another four miles, and so on. In this race, there'd be three such heats with rest periods of half an hour.

The first horse to win two heats would win the purse. That means the horses might run 12 miles in an afternoon. Later generations considered this sadistic. For comparison, the Belmont Stakes, the final leg of today's Triple Crown, is a mile and a half, and that's thought to be an unusual test of endurance for a modern thoroughbred. This figured into the race planning. Races at four-mile heats demanded both speed and endurance, and there's a trade-off between the two. Southerners favored speed, and Northerners favored endurance. At his stables on the Appomattox River near Petersburg, Virginia, Johnson drew up his plan for the South. He had six months to choose a horse and train it. After much thought, he decided to train five horses, test them against each other, and take all of them to Long Island. That was

insurance in case there was any mishap, but would also keep the Northerners off balance. In the North, Van Ranst and his manager, John C. Stevens, hired the best experts they could to tend to Eclipse. Stevens' brother even imported three French chronometers to time their champion as he ran. As Eclipse trained with Van Rans through the winter and spring, few Northerners even went to watch them. They just assumed that Eclipse was invincible. Van Rans, who was considered a sage, made all the training decisions, and he would decide on a jockey.

Everyone assumed that jockey would be Samuel Purdy. He was considered the best jockey in the North, and he'd ridden Eclipse exclusively in recent years. But he was almost 50 years old now, and Van Rens knew that the south would exploit any weakness it could find. In this era of long-distance racing, jockeys were less important than a horse's pedigree, stamina, and training tactics, but a jockey's ability could still win or lose a race. In the end, Van Rens told Purdy that a younger jockey, William Crafts, would be racing Eclipse. Purdy was surprised and probably hurt by this, but he had no

choice but to accept it. His replacement, Crafts, was only 26 years old and must have been intimidated by the enormous attention on the race. North and South had both become invested emotionally in the outcome. Each thought a victory would vindicate its way of life. An English visitor wrote, In all the papers and in every man's mouth were the questions, Are you for the North or the South, the Free or the Slave States, the Whites or the Blacks? A spectator from Baltimore called the race a victory on which seems to hang the fate of nations yet unborn. Two weeks before the race, as Eclipse was moved to Long Island to complete his training, he was applauded in the streets of Manhattan. Five days after that, Johnson's chosen horse developed a fracture in his hoof and had to

be withdrawn. Johnson would have to choose another horse, and he agonized over the decision. Even as the remaining Southern finalists began to train on the chosen track, the Northerners still didn't know which of them would run. A week before the race, thousands of Southerners set out for New York by horseback, steamship, and stagecoach from Virginia, Maryland, the Carolinas, and Georgia. Business rose in Manhattan hotels, restaurants, taverns, and theaters, and Northerners and Southerners taunted and teased each other in the streets. The race would be held at the Union Racecourse in Jamaica, Long Island, about nine miles out of New York. When race day arrived, thousands of people and hundreds of vehicles and horses filled the streets near the East River, struggling to cross onto Long Island.

Until this point, races had seldom attracted more than a few thousand fans. Eclipse's last race had drawn 6,000, which was the most that anyone could recall at that time. The planners for this race expected 20,000, but that turned out to be the number of Southerners alone. Altogether, the crowd grew to 60,000 people, almost more than the combined populations of Illinois and Delaware, turning the racetrack temporarily into the nation's fourth largest city. Josiah Quincy Jr., who later became mayor of Boston, had got a box seat ticket through a friend from Harvard. He said the Long Island Ferry had been fully packed and he'd had to walk most of the way from there to the track because, he said, an unbroken line of carriages stretched from the water to the racecourse. He said, on arriving, we found an assembly which was simply overpowering. Tens of thousands of fans were on the ground, too many for the entrance gates to accommodate.

Some held tickets, but the rest had to stand in line for an hour to get in. Booths and tents selling food and drinks sold out long before midday. The stretch in front of the grandstand was lined with carriages four and five deep, and trees and fences were said to have groaned with their loads of human beings. A jostling crowd surrounded the track and another formed inside the oval. So many senators and congressmen had come up from Washington that Congress had shut down for the day and the New York Stock Exchange was closed. Vice President Daniel Tompkins was here, as were Aaron Burr and Andrew Jackson, who had interrupted his presidential campaign to see the race.

To spread the news of the winner, a man at the track stood ready to leap onto a horse and speed into downtown New York, where flags would be raised in public places to announce the result of the race. More than $200,000 in side bets had been wagered. Some people had bet everything they owned. The New York Evening Post was holding up publication so it could print the results early that evening. It wasn't until the judges gave the signal to bring up the horses that the northern team finally saw the animal they'd be racing against. Johnson had chosen a horse named Henry. Like Eclipse, he was a chestnut stallion, but he was small and fast, and the dirt track promised to make him even faster. Eclipse was bigger and stronger, but slower and not nearly as good-looking. The track was a flat oval a mile in

length, with two straight stretches of a quarter mile and a quarter mile turn at each end. William Crafts would ride Eclipse, and a jockey named John Walden would ride Henry. They'd compete in three heats of four miles each, with half-hour intervals between. The fans noticed that two notable people were not to be seen. The first was Johnson, who'd eaten bad lobster the night before and wouldn't appear at all that day. The second was Samuel Purdy, the spurned jockey. Crafts had taken his place aboard Eclipse, but he couldn't stay away. He was standing in the crowd now among the spectators.

The North won a coin toss and chose to position Eclipse at the inner railing for the start, with Henry at his side. A drummer played the agreed starting signal, and the racers were off. Henry took the lead early. He was already three lengths ahead at the first turn. This surprised the North, which had expected to take the lead itself. Its plan was already ruined. As the horses came out of the first turn, Henry extended his lead to four lengths, and Crafts fumbled with the reins in the backstretch, sending mixed signals to Eclipse,

which slowed him even further. As a result, Henry extended his lead to five lengths in the second turn. A northern fan yelled, he is to be distanced. The horses thundered past a racing journalist named Cadwallader Colden. He called the pace a killing one. Henry was racing toward a record, but it wasn't clear that he or any horse could keep up this speed. The second and third laps were much the same. Henry led by anything from four to seven lengths. Eclipse looked old and clearly bothered by the younger horse kicking dirt in his face. Van Ranst, watching all this, may have regretted choosing crafts over Purdy.

Purdy was better under pressure, and with him Eclipse had never lost a heat, much less a race, as he was doing now. On the back straightaway of the final lap, with three quarters of a mile to go, Crafts grew desperate and began to kick Eclipse's flanks and lash him with his whip. Eclipse pressed forward and began to gain ground, reducing Henry's lead to four lengths, then three. As they came out of the last turn, Eclipse was bleeding but had narrowed the lead to a length and a half. But then he threw up his tail and flicked it twice, signaling that he was either too tired or too distressed to keep up. This happened right in front of Colden, who said, Eclipse is done. The southern jockey, Walden, looked around and saw what had happened. He had never used his whip or spurs, and he didn't need them now. Henry was in the lead as they passed

the judges. He had run the fastest odds began to shift in favor of Henry. Colden wrote that Henry was less distressed than he expected and Eclipse was bloody and miserable. The Northerners searched themselves for an explanation. Opinions varied, but everyone agreed that the new jockey had been a questionable choice. Van Rens's team agreed and urged him to find a replacement. He didn't oppose them, but who could they get? They had a retired jockey named John Buckley, but he was out of practice. Finally, the manager, John Stevens, asked whether Samuel Purdy might be persuaded to do it after all. Van Rant's didn't know and had

no idea where Purdy was. Rumor had it that he was on the grounds, and they fanned out to search for him. Stevens found him packed into the crowd at the outer railing near the finish. Watching the first heat, he'd been torn. He was selfishly pleased to see Van Rant's proven wrong for dismissing him, but he still wanted Eclipse and the North to win. Stevens asked him humbly if he'd consider replacing Crafts as jockey. He told them that he had a riding costume ready for him. But Purdy opened his coat and revealed that he'd worn his old costume

and was carrying his cap and whip with him. The horses were given a half hour's rest on the track before the second heat. Eclipse recovered somewhat, and Henry already seemed eager to run again. Purdy got immediately to work. He said he expected Henry to start fast again, but where the southern horse had speed, Eclipse had stamina. He planned to keep close behind Henry, but to maintain contact and then to make a challenge in the third or fourth lap when Henry was tiring. The others agreed. Since Henry had won the first heat, he took the inside position at the start. Eclipse seemed recovered and eager to renew the contest.

The starter struck his drum and they were off again. As expected, Henry sprang forward to take the lead, whipped and spurred by Walden. Purdy took up a position behind him along the railing and was three lengths behind as they reached the first turn. Purdy took up a position behind him along the railing and was three lengths behind as they reached the first turn. Along the back straightaway, Henry extended his lead to 20 feet, but as they left the second turn and entered the next lap, Purdy tightened the reins, signaling that it was time to run. Eclipse surged ahead and narrowed the gap to 15 feet, then 10. Walden didn't look back but must have heard the cheers growing louder as they finished the second lap.

Purdy had narrowed his lead to one length. As they entered the first turn of the third lap, Purdy brought out his whip, but he flicked it only twice, not wanting to hurt or discourage the horse after its abuse in the first heat. The horse and rider knew each other well, and Eclipse responded, advancing on Henry's outside flank until his nose was even with the other horse's midsection as they charged down the back straightaway. Sensing the danger, Walden began to whip Henry for the first time, and they pulled ahead by a length in the second turn. But the horses had run seven miles now, and Henry could not keep up this pace. Purdy dug in his spurs, and Eclipse advanced again to within half a length as they tore down the straightaway. Walden was aware of the danger now and shaken.

As they entered the first turn of the last lap, he pulled Henry out from the rail and into Eclipse's path. Purdy had to pull on the reins to avoid a collision, but now he saw an opportunity. Normally it would be safest to pass the other horse on the outside, but in blocking him, Walden had abandoned the inner rail. Purdy made a quick judgment and pressed Eclipse into the gap along the inner railing. Now, when Walden looked behind him to his right, he found that Eclipse had disappeared. In his shock, he relaxed the reins and Purdy pressed Eclipse further into the gap between Henry and the railing. In the infield, Buckley shouted to Colden, See Eclipse, look at Purdy, by heaven on the inside.

Colden was alarmed at Purdy's daring. If Walden tried to return to the railing now, he might press Purdy into it and even through it. In the stands, Quincy found he was standing behind Virginia Congressman John Randolph and heard him shout, You can't do it, Mr. Purdy. You can't do it, Mr. Purdy. You can't do it, Mr. Purdy. But Eclipse, calling on all his stamina, pulled even with Henry as they came out of the turn, and then, for the first time, pulled ahead. Walden found himself behind for the first time all day, with only half a mile to go in the heat. He was not sure what to do. The Southerners' whole plan had been to take the lead and hold it.

Purdy plied the whip again, and Eclipse surged ahead by two lengths as they entered the final turn. Walden drove his spurs into Henry's flanks and began to whip him, and Henry began to close the gap. The crowd was screaming now. A newspaper reported that the noise, quote, seemed to roll along the track as the horses advanced, resembling the loud and reiterated shout of contending armies. As they came out of the final turn, Eclipse was the length ahead, but Henry kept gaining. Soon he was only two feet behind. Josiah Quincy wrote, although I had not a scent depending, I lost my breath and felt as if a sword had passed through me. Both horses were running flat out for the finish now. Henry was the faster of the two, but he was tired now, and Eclipse's deeper resources and purdy skill kept up their advantage. With Henry at his shoulder, Eclipse flashed past the judges to win the second heat in seven minutes,

49 seconds, another record. Having won one heat apiece, they would now have to compete for a third. Neither horse had ever run three heats in a race. Plainly exhausted, they were given another rest of half an hour. Now it was the South's turn to search for another rider, but Johnson was away ailing, and they didn't have the benefit of his advice. They had a slave jockey named Charles Stewart, but he was just 15 years old. Another jockey, Arthur Taylor, was 35 and hadn't been on a horse in months. Congressman John Randolph, a renowned horseman himself, pushed in to offer his advice. He seconded the idea of having Taylor ride. As latecomers had continued to arrive, hundreds of fans had jumped the fence and were now standing on the track itself. Officials, not wanting to haul them away, decided to allow them there,

hoping they'd stay out of the way near the outer fence. The rest period ended and they were off again. At the start, Purdy surprised his opponent by taking the lead early and was three lengths ahead at the first turn. In the backstretch, he expanded the lead to four lengths, then five. Both horses sped through the second turn, holding nothing back. After the first lap, Henry began to gain, but only because Purdy had relaxed his pressure on Eclipse a bit, knowing that no horse could keep up a sprint in such a state of exhaustion. He was still in control, four or five lengths ahead. But now as they finished the first lap, they had to contend with the crowd on the track. Purdy found there was just enough room to get by along the inside rail. The horses were

alarmed by the people, but obeyed their riders, passed through the turn, and accelerated into the backstretch with five lengths still between them. The second encounter with the crowd bothered them less, and they passed through the third lap with Eclipse still five lengths ahead. With a heroic effort, Henry closed the gap to less than two lengths in the final straightaway, but then he broke down, spent, and Eclipse passed the judges a full length ahead to win the race. They had run the final heat in eight minutes, 24 seconds, which is 46 and a half seconds slower than the first heat. The horses were exhausted. They had run 12 miles in less than 24 minutes. Josiah Quincy wrote later that he had been so unconscious of everything else that the sun had actually blistered my cheeks without my perceiving it. Afterwards, someone

asked John Randolph whether he thought the outcome of the race might forecast the presidential election. He said, if the question of the presidency could be settled by this assembly, there would be no opposition. Mr. Purdy would go to the White House by acclamation. Purdy wrote a clip to the judge's stand as a band played See the Conquering Hero Comes, and mail coaches set out immediately to all parts of the country bearing red flags that read Eclipse Forever. At a banquet that evening, Johnson proposed a rematch, challenging Stevens to run Eclipse against Henry the following autumn for any sum from $20,000 to $50,000 a side. Stevens declined. He said that his horse had overcome handicaps of age and conditioning, and they didn't propose to repay him by forcing him to another

race. These exchanges were gracious. The regional rivalry that had preceded the race had given way to a shared pride in national achievement. The two groups raised toast to each other, the Southerners to New York and the Northerners to Virginia. The New York papers, far from crowing over the victory, proposed giving up the idea of regional competition. The National Advocate wrote, these contests of North against South lay the foundations of sectional jealousies and create a spirit of rivalry where there should be union. The horses of Virginia, Carolina, and Long Island are still the horses of the country. In fact, in a poetic turn, the two horses ended their lives in each other's territory. John Stevens' brother bought Henry for breeding purposes and kept him on Long Island, where he lived to be 18. And Johnson bought Eclipse,

who never raced again but stood at stud throughout the South until his death in Kentucky at age 33. An obituary read, up to within a few days of his death, he was as spirited and lively as a colt and did not appear to be over 10 years old. The Great Match Race launched a new era in American thoroughbred racing, in which horses that were bred in America and trained methodically raced on fast tracks. It created the American sports spectacle with huge crowds, enormous wagers, and wide media coverage, and the race itself became a legend. When Eclipse died in 1847, the newspaper publisher James Watson Webb wrote, there is no one who witnessed the Great eclipse race on Long Island in the year 1823 who will ever forget the clear and distinct manifestation of a feeling

known before to exist, but called forth and embodied in that contest in a manner quite as unmistakable as unprecedented of North and South. In episode 219, I discussed Toxoplasma gondii, or T. gondii, one of the world's most common parasites, and its possible effects on hosts infected with it. Hashoyar wrote, Hello, hosts of Futility Closet and T. gondii. I hope not, but in the last episode, 219, Greg offhandedly mentioned that if looked at from a holistic population-wide perspective, parasitic infections that cause behavioral changes to a few could conceivably account for big shifts

in human history. Weeks ago, I came across a paper that posits just that about T. gondii. The study finds a statistically significant effect on culturally understood neuroses of accepted gender roles and uncertainty avoidance behavior linked to the presence of the parasite in various populations. Since T. gondii thrives in certain climates and soil conditions, it's possible that wholesale infections in those areas where the parasite does well in result in wide-reaching population-level behaviors that either get passed down to the next generations during pregnancy or are understood as how we do things and pass through learning. Here's the paper.

Thought you'd like it, even though this is possibly one of the most far-reaching effects of T. gondii posited, as far as I know. It's amazing to think culture itself could be a byproduct of parasites, and that after all, we'd all be more similar than different if it wasn't for our unique microbiomes. And Hashoyar sent a 2006 article by Kevin Lafferty published in the Proceedings of the Royal Society B, Biological Sciences, titled, Can the Common Brain Parasite, Toxoplasma gondii, Influence Human Culture? As I mentioned in episode 219, a number of studies have looked at whether infection with T. gondii might influence people's behaviors or personality.

And while several studies have reported finding differences between infected and non-infected individuals, there are some inconsistencies in the findings that I thought made it difficult to draw firm conclusions. Lafferty attempted to determine whether perhaps T. gondii's subtle effects on individuals might show up at the aggregate level for different countries. He looked at what he called four principal cultural dimensions, individualism, sex roles, uncertainty avoidance, and class distinction, as well as an aggregate measure of neuroticism, and compared a country's scores on these measures with an estimate of the percentage of the country's population that is infected with T. gondii. Lafferty's findings were that countries with higher prevalences of T. gondii also had higher aggregate neuroticism scores,

and that, at least in Western nations, higher T. gondii rates were correlated with higher levels of masculine sex roles and uncertainty avoidance, both of which he classified as the neurotic side of those dimensions. So in this study, T. gondii was associated with more traditional gender roles, stronger gender differentiation, and more focus on ego, ambition, material possession, self-achievement, and work than on relationships, people, social support, and quality of life, and feeling more threatened by uncertain or unfamiliar situations, which leads to a more rule-oriented society. Interestingly, the correlation was statistically significant in Western countries,

but not in Asian ones, and Lafferty notes that some other major cultural groups, such as African countries, weren't able to be assessed due to lack of data. Lafferty concluded that some variation between cultures may be related to the distribution of T. gondii, though he carefully notes that in his study, the results only explain a fraction of the variation in two of the four assessed cultural dimensions, suggesting that if T. gondii does influence human culture, it's only one among several factors. of the variation in two of the four assessed cultural dimensions, suggesting that if T. gondii does influence human culture, it's only one among several factors.

And I would suggest that this seems even more true given that the relationship isn't found consistently across all countries. But it is interesting to consider whether the warmer and more humid climates that favor T. gondii might, as Lafferty suggests, indirectly lead to geographical variation in some cultural dimensions, possibly, for example, explaining prior observations of a greater differentiation of sex roles in warmer countries. And just in principle, if it can be shown that this works with one parasite, there could be others that have... Yes, we have no idea, like, right. I mean, who knows? How many little things living inside us are altering us in who knows what ways. Yeah.

As fascinating as the idea is, though, I have to point out several caveats about Lafferty's study. One is that the scores for the country's aggregate levels for neuroticism and cultural dimensions appear to be extrapolated mostly from data collected from college students. And this group is probably not really representative of a whole population. Further, much of the data used for the estimates of a country's prevalence of T. gondii infection came from tests on pregnant women, and that group may also not be representative of the rest of the country. But I think you said, too, that he chose four measures to... Yes. So if those were not optimally chosen, then, I mean, there could be an effect there that wasn't revealed, you know? If he chose to measure the behavioral effects in some other way, he could—

Right, if he looked for a different cultural dimension or a different personality trait. Yeah, there may be effects that he didn't quite reveal. That's true, too. prevalence increases not only in certain types of climates, but also in other environmental conditions, such as living in densely populated areas and with some behaviors, such as cat ownership, working with the soil, different hygiene practices, and types of foods consumed. So we have to be careful to not automatically assume that any differences in aggregate personality comes from the parasite rather than from other variables that might correlate with any of these other factors. There are a surprising number of variables that seem to affect T. gondii's effects

on humans, which may also make it much harder to find consistent aggregate differences. And some of the relevant factors include sex, with infected men and women often showing rather different effects, rhesus blood group, with RHD positive subjects showing less changes associated with infection than RHD negative ones, and apparently rural versus urban living. I find this last one difficult to account for, but it was reported in a 2013 article on T-Gondii's effects on humans by Yaroslav Flager in the Journal of Experimental Biology. And to me, this is a really good example of how confusing the literature can seem on this topic. Flager reports that studies have found that infected rural male students score higher in suspiciousness

and infected rural female students score lower in suspiciousness than their non-infected peers, but that the opposite was true for urban students. With infected male urban students scoring lower and infected female urban students scoring higher in suspiciousness than their non-infected peers. So I suppose if there are some different factors that make people respond differently to the parasite, whether that's Rh blood groups or other characteristics that aren't being taken into account in many of these studies, then that might help explain some of the confusing or contradictory findings that you see in this

literature. That's fascinating anyway, if you just try to think of what the social outcomes would be if that's happening. And Flager notes that humans are a lot harder to study for this type of question than are laboratory animals, such as the rodents, in which T. gondii's effects can be much more clearly seen. Lab animals are often inbred to control genetic variability, and of course their environments are often tightly controlled. So against the backdrop of such homogeneity, it's much easier to see the effects of a particular factor on behavior.

Humans, on the other hand, have a high amount of both genetic and environmental diversity, which can make it much more difficult to see a large or clear effect of a particular variable. So, for example, we've talked on the show before, like in episode 188, of how the expression of people's psychological states can be highly influenced by cultural factors. So all of this type of variability and the role of different factors actually, though, makes it a little more impressive that Lafferty found as much of a correlation, though, as he did. Yeah, so maybe once this is all fine-tuned, we'll see that it's even more of a striking effect.

It'll be easier to see an effect, yes. Another difficulty with this type of research in humans, though, is that we can't deliberately infect people with T. gondii so that we can observe any changes pre- and post-infection. This means that the studies we have only show correlation but not causation, and of course that's always an important distinction. And even if there is causality, we can't necessarily determine the direction of the causality with correlational studies. So for example, some of the differences found between infected and non-infected men may be due to the infected men having higher levels of testosterone, as has been found in several studies.

However, it's also possible that men who have higher levels of testosterone are more susceptible to certain kinds of infections, and that the differences in personality and the difference in infection status are both caused by the higher testosterone levels. And of course, as with most of the research on this topic, I should note that only some studies have found a correlation between infection status and testosterone levels in men, while a few others haven't. Do you think there's any chance that there's just nothing here that this effect, the parasite has this effect somehow in lab animals, but not in humans, and we're just kind of glimpsing a phantom that's maybe not really there? You know, that's a good question, and I guess we'll need even more research to try to pin that down.

I think it's really hard to say at this point, because if there are all these factors that aren't being taken into account, like rhesus blood group, you know, then that would produce just so much variability in the data that it might be hard. The fact that so many studies are finding an effect, though, makes you think it's more likely there's something there, but I think the literature's very confused right now. And because T. gondii does seem to affect at least rodent hosts, and we can see that pretty clearly, you know, the parasite seems to cause behavioral changes in mice and rats, probably through changes in brain chemistry, and that seems to be because the T. gondii wants to make it that the rodents will be more likely to be eaten by a feline,

because that's how T. gondii successfully reproduce, inside a cat's intestines. So that makes it seem more plausible that it might cause some changes to our brain chemistry too, unless the parasite has somehow evolved to only affect certain mammals and not others, which seems a little less plausible somehow. I guess, again, it needs to just be ascertained. And we should keep in mind that it's not impossible

to get humans to be eaten by felines either, if the parasite wants to control us in that way, because the larger cats like lions and tigers and cougars are also the right hosts for the parasite to complete its life cycle. So maybe they should start testing big game hunters and lion tamers for the presence of T. gondii. And on a lighter note than pondering whether parasites might be controlling human civilization, I have an update to the Gardner Heist, the largest art theft in history, where 13 artworks were stolen in 1990 and haven't been yet found. Mark Gelter wrote,

I've just gotten around to catching up on your podcast and I'm many months behind. I just listened to episode 201, The Gardner Heist, and I know where one of the paintings is. Sorta. Well, it could be in one of two places. In the first season of the Netflix series Marvel's Iron Fist, you meet a fabulously wealthy man who was thought dead for decades, but he is holed up in a penthouse apartment. No mention is made of this little Easter egg, but displayed prominently on the wall in a hallway of this apartment is the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, a nice touch from the

production designer. There are a few other paintings displayed which might also represent stolen works, but I'm not familiar enough with the world of art theft history to ascertain their identities. The Rembrandt also shows up in an episode of The Blacklist, which has criminal mastermind Raymond Reddington brokering the sale of the painting. That's very clever. Yeah, that is pretty cute, isn't it? I think in the James Bond film, Dr. No,

there's a scene, he's an art thief, and there's one scene where you see his lair, and there's an actual painting there that had been stolen in real life a few years earlier from a London art museum. That is clever. So thanks so much to everyone who writes in to us. If you have any comments or updates for us,

or feel compelled to write by any of your parasites, you can send us an email at podcast at futilitycloset.com. It's my turn to try to solve a lateral thinking puzzle. Greg is going to give me an odd-sounding situation, and I have to work out what is actually going on, asking only yes or no questions. This is from listener John Levine. A man receives false information about someone else's health. That information leads him to commit a crime.

What's going on? Leads him to commit a crime. Yes. Okay. False information about someone else's health. Is the someone else related to him in some way? Let's start with by blood. No. Related to him by history. Yes. They have a relationship. Yes. Okay. Are they romantically related? Yes. Do I need more than that? Are they married? Yes. Yes. Is that important that it's his spouse?

Yes. It is important that it's his spouse. Does he believe his spouse is dying or going to die soon? No, he said leadingly. Does he believe the opposite, that his dying spouse is not dying? No. Okay, no. Does he believe his spouse is in worse health than the spouse is?

Yes. Okay. He believes his spouse is in poor health. Is he upset that his spouse is in poor health? Or is he pleased? Or he doesn't care? Why don't we say he's not upset? He's not distressed to find out that his spouse is in poor health,

although this is false information. Right, but he doesn't know that. Does it matter who gave him the false information? No. No. Oh, doesn't matter who gave him. So it doesn't matter how, does it matter how he learned the false information?

No, it doesn't. Oh, okay. Because I'm working out like the police fed him misinformation or something. Okay. So a man, can I say wife just for simplicity? Or is it his wife? Yes, yes. It's his husband.

Okay. A man believes that his wife is in worse health than she is. Yes. But he doesn't necessarily believe she's dying. Are there any other complications? Like, is she pregnant or something else like that? Okay. He doesn't necessarily believe she's dying?

No? No, that's true. That's true? I'm trying to... Something's not quite right here. Does he think she's dying or about to die? Or he's dead. She's dead.

He thinks she's dead. That's right. Ah, okay. That's why I wasn't getting it quite right. I had the test drawn. I was trying to give you insight waggling my eyebrows. I wasn't quite sure what I was missing there. He believes his wife is dead.

Right. Wrongly. Oh, so he marries another woman and he's committing bigamy. That's exactly it. The man is a straight... I thought that was going to be a lot harder than it was. I can never tell. The man is estranged from his wife and hears that she has died. So he goes and marries someone else, but he was misinformed. His wife is okay. So now he's a bigamist, which is a crime in the United States. Thanks, John, for sending that. Thank you. And if you have a puzzle that you'd like to send in for us to try, you can send it to podcast at futilitycloset.com

this podcast is supported entirely by our incredible listeners if you would like to help support our celebration of the quirky and the curious you can find a donate button in the support us section of the website at futilitycloset.com or you can join our patreon campaign where you'll get outtakes extra discussions on some of the website at futilitycloset.com. Or you can join our Patreon campaign, where you'll get outtakes, extra discussions on some of the stories, more lateral thinking puzzles, peeks behind the scenes, and updates on Sasha, our furry podcast supervisor. You can find our Patreon page at patreon.com slash futilitycloset, or see our website for the link. At our website, you'll also find over 10,000 concise curiosities,

the Futility Closet store, information about the Futility Closet books, and the show notes for the podcast. If you have any questions or comments for us, you can email us at podcast at futilitycloset.com. All our music was written and performed by my awesome brother-in-law, Doug Ross. Thanks for listening, and we'll talk to you next week.