Recent observations of white-faced capuchin monkeys on Jicarón Island in Panama have documented a particularly telling case of a broader behavioural theme. Over a 15-month period, juvenile male capuchins were seen abducting infant howler monkeys. They carried them for days, sometimes until the infants died.
This behaviour does not resemble caregiving, nor does it fit the patterns of hunting or play. It appears instead as a deliberate act of taking and keeping, with no clear purpose beyond the act itself. The howler infants resisted. They cried out to their mothers, who remained nearby. Some capuchins actively chased howler mothers to seize new infants. Over time, the infants stopped struggling—from exhaustion or resignation. But the abduction never became parenting. The capuchins did not feed them; they did not appear to know how.
Even more striking: the behavior spread. This was not an isolated anomaly. Other juvenile males began to imitate the behaviour, suggesting that it became what researchers called a ‘social tradition.’ That is, it propagated through social learning, despite having no adaptive benefit. The infants died. No reproductive or survival advantage was gained. Yet the abductions multiplied.
And crucially, these monkeys had no contact with humans.
Abduction in the Primate Imagination
Primates are known not only for nurturing their young, but also for engaging in possessive behaviours, including abduction. In species ranging from chimpanzees to macaques, individuals have been observed snatching infants from their mothers, sometimes with fatal outcomes. These behaviours can be violent or tender, spontaneous or strategic. They do not always serve an obvious adaptive purpose. And yet, they exist.
Image by Martin Harvey via Getty Images (linked for reference only)
Captive and wild macaques have stolen puppies and carried them around for days. Chimpanzees have taken infants from rival groups or even from members of their own troop. In some cases, these abductions end in infanticide. In others, the infant is carried gently until death from neglect. And occasionally, a strange, uneasy bond may form between the abductor and the abducted—a one-sided intimacy that seems to resemble parenting, yet lacks the elements of functional care. Such cases may suggest a rudimentary form of attachment, not unlike what in human terms might be called a traumatic bond, though the motivations and perceptions of the nonhuman individuals involved remain open to interpretation.
It has often been assumed that these behaviors are rare outliers, or that they are provoked by human interference. But the recent capuchin observations show otherwise: these tendencies are not necessarily distortions—they are part of the primate repertoire.
Domestication as Abduction
The benefits of abduction may not be immediately apparent. However, such acts may create conditions in which something new can emerge. This is where the findings intersect with my broader thesis on the origins of humanity. In my post on dispersal and human society, I suggest that domestication is fundamentally opposed to the natural pattern of dispersal seen in primates. Where dispersal enables the offspring’s independence, domestication inhibits it. It arrests the movement of the young away from their natal group, drawing them into a structure of dependence that is no longer biological, but social, even symbolic.
In this way, abduction may have played a formative role in the emergence of our species. In my work on the ‘Behaviour of Language,’ I argue that humans are an intentionally self-domesticated species—a view that contrasts with mainstream approaches, which describe a passive, natural selection of traits like reduced aggression and increased prosociality. As I explore in ‘Who Domesticated Humans?’ this narrative overlooks the inherently intentional character of domestication—an act of controlling other individuals and their reproduction. These are not just evolutionary trends; they are decisions and actions embedded in interaction and amplified by learning.
In this light, the fact that primates are prone to ‘abduction fads’—even in interspecies cases—seems to support this argument: if abduction is part of the cultural range of primates, then the intentional retention of the offspring becomes not just likely, but evolutionarily grounded. Mothers and others may ‘abduct’ not with violence, but with emotional force. They may hold on to the child not merely to protect it, but to bind it, to keep it from forming bonds in foreign groups or with unacceptable partners. The mother may make herself indispensable. In doing so, she creates a new structure of dependence—a relation in which the child learns to respond to signals, to read her intention. This goes beyond instinct. It is the beginning of a new form of communication and cooperation.
Now, imagine that you swap roles with the dog. This is harder to imagine because we are normally not dependent on dogs for food or other basic needs. However, like the dog, you would find yourself producing signals, such as a pointing gesture and the sentence ‘Hey, bring me that food over there!’ Your behaviour can also be said to be intentional and referential (even if a little embarrassing) because it includes attention-getting, gaze alternation, elaboration and all the other criteria used in the above study. However, unless your dog is trained, you will probably not get the food and be quite frustrated.