Geese conflicting

For weeks now, we have been entertained by the sound of flocks of geese going overhead. They go to the river in the morning, head off to glean the fields at lunch and then head back off to a nearby lake for the night. Each time they pass over there is that beautiful sound of them honking at one another.

All this communal spirit disappeared sometime recently as the hormones told them it's time to start mating and wild conflicts broke out. (Why today is a bit of a puzzle as it snowed here this morning, not ideal weather for romance.)

I say geese conflicting because there was no actual fighting. It was one of those occasions for that favourite question of mine: What actually happened? I found four gander disputing a single goose (whatever she has, it must be pretty special). I stood for quite a while on the river bank watching them go at one another and at no time did one gander so much as touch another. The entire dispute was carried out in rushes and retreats.

My guess is that the reason for this is evolutionary. Even if you are pretty sure you are the meanest, toughest gander in the territory, there is good chance you will be injured in an actual fight. You may win but be left with an open wound. As ganders can't check into hospital or get prescription antibiotics, that could mean death and I'd bet the odds are high enough that being so aggressive that you actually attack other birds is not adaptive.

So the birds go through a series of gestures until it becomes obvious that one is dominant.

Since the retreating ganders will no doubt have to repeat this whole routine at the next goose stop, I imagine that going until you or all the others drop out from exhaustion is also non-adaptive.

It's funny because you can see similar patterns in human beings if you watch closely and you don't have to be a full-blown sociobiologist to accept this.