Of Lions, and Other Fat Cats

Among the mountain lions of California, the yawning meaninglessness of the Republican presidential primary on Tuesday represents a happy accident of politics. On Tuesday the big cats are caught in the cross-fire--to borrow Pat Buchanan’s now weary stump phrase--of Proposition 197. Supporters insist the initiative will protect foothill settlers from cougar attacks. Detractors see it as a ruse to make mountain lions fair game again to trophy hunters.

While this is not exactly a partisan issue, Republicans generally tend to be more inclined than Democrats to let the war of species rage on unfettered by government rule. A viable GOP nomination contest would have created a turnout lopsided with Republicans. Instead, Dole has it wrapped up, Buchanan is in a fade, and among the mountain lions there no doubt is budding hope that a big bullet will be dodged.

Yes, mountain lions apparently can and do follow such news. In fact, their ability to comprehend and communicate trends in human behavior is a key tenet of Proposition 197 supporters. They insist that two lethal attacks by lions in 1994 were not the inevitable, albeit tragic, result of surging population in the foothills. Rather, they occurred because lions have lost their fear of humans. As one hunter put it: “We have several generations of mountain lions that have learned never to fear man because they have never been hunted.”

This makes sense, for maybe a minute. Then a question arises:

How? How do mountain lions communicate a fear of guns to brothers and sisters in the pride? These are animals that live in virtual isolation from even their own species. Do they pass along coded cries in the night, warning of new dangers? Do they circulate underground newspapers, tune to special mountain lion news radio stations? Bulletin: They got another big cat down in Paradise Gulch the other day. Keep your tails low, boys and girls. Remember. Man. Firestick. Big trouble.

Adding to the mystery is that, under current policy, wayward lions already can be hunted down and destroyed. In 1994 alone, the same year as the two deadly attacks, 131 mountain lions were killed. Why weren’t these takings enough to teach lions the lesson of the hunt? A biologist who studies the species offered this explanation: “The experience of being hunted . . . generally does not teach a mountain lion to fear humans, because it is almost always killed at the end of the hunt.”

Oh.

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Felis concolor is not the only species sweating out the Tuesday election. Lawyers also hear hounds baying again. Anymore, an election is not an election without some attempt to bash the barristers. It is an old sport, and a jolly one, and, after all, the species can hardly be described as endangered.

This time there is Proposition 202, a swipe at the contingency fee lawyers. These are the sharks who come swimming to your side after McDonald’s has scalded off your genitals, or a derailed train has rumbled through the bedroom. They sue and, if they win, take as payment a healthy percentage of the award. Everybody snickers about these profiteers of misfortune--everybody except those who discover one bad day that they need them.

These advocates of tort reform seem to believe most folk are irresponsible, just itching to have the wrong kidney snipped out by an intern--and thus win a ticket to the great legal lottery. This is nonsense. For starters, no court award can ever compensate fully for the torture of a lost limb or loved one. Moreover, not everybody takes lightly the decision of whether to sue. Listen to the widower of Barbara Schoener, the jogger whose death by a mountain lion in 1994 prompted Proposition 197. He declined to sue the state, saying: “Barbara chose to run and, on a very long shot, she did not come back. This is not really the fault of the state. In my opinion, people should take responsibility for themselves.”

The ballot also contains bond measures to throw badly needed money at schools and freeways. There is yet another run at no-fault auto insurance. This initiative is complicated and involves insurance companies. A general rule of survival: When confronted by a complicated proposition that involves insurance companies, run. Run as if chased by sharks, or pitchfork populists, or snarling mountain lions. Run.

All in all, it must finally be said, this is a primary that excites mainly just mountain lion hunters, contingency lawyers and insurance executives. To everyone else, it is a bore, and a record low turnout is expected. This forecast does not displease all participants. Architects of certain campaigns--for example, the three so-called “Terrible 200” measures backed by the insurance industry--calculate their chances improve with a smaller voter pool. Which in the end may be the only good reason to vote Tuesday: Somebody is banking that you won’t.