Working For Peanuts.
Not so great on Medium, but it’s terrific for crows.
“The early bird gets the worm, the early worm gets eaten.” Norman Ralph Augustine
You’ve got to hand it to crows over in Sweden. There they are, working for peanuts like the rest of us, and they’re getting international exposure, all because they’re doing something good.
I’ve always wanted to do good — meaning good for myself — but I’m usually broke because, well, I make peanuts. Meanwhile, these birds are doing good for Sweden, a country I didn’t realize needed help from crows.
This altruistic approach isn’t typical of crows. I’m even willing to bet they don’t care at all about the national betterment of Sweden.
Yet they’re praised for being environmental, whereas all I’m doing is composting.
Yet they’re praised for being environmental, whereas all I’m doing is composting. According to The National Post here in Canada, the crows of Sweden are cleaning up cigarette butts (over a billion tossed on streets, constituting over half of all the country’s litter) and turning them in for, you guessed it, peanuts.
I don’t know what a billion cigarette butts gets you in peanuts, but they’re probably doing better than me — and they’re crows.
Okay, so there’s got to be a catch, something that puts these birds ahead of me (and my composting). Digging deeper, I was surprised to learn these crows mean big savings for Sweden.
Södertälje, the city where this butt-for-peanut project started, claims it costs them 20 million Swedish kronor (roughly CAD $2.7 million) to clean their streets. The Keep Sweden Tidy Foundation, behind this somehow, believes these crows could save the city up to 75% of those costs.
If they find a better deal (like a slice of pizza for, say, a beer) they’ll leave the project, even if you give them a t-shirt with “Go Crows!” on it.
Crows and ravens are ideal for this kind of work, being intelligent, urban, and absolutely nuts about trading a soggy butt for a peanut. Hooded crows seem to be the most eager, but magpies and jackdaws are jumping on the bandwagon, too. Why not? It’s easy pickings, as they say.
There is one catch, which is typical of Corvid birds. It doesn’t take much to train them, but keeping them interested is another thing. If they find a better deal (like a slice of pizza for, say, a beer) they’ll leave the project, even if you give them a t-shirt with “Go Crows!” on it.
The city does provide a functional teaching method, of course, consisting of the “reward technique,” which dogs — and me — have been responding to for years. The difference is, “Corvid Cleaning,” as it’s called, is especially adapted to a crow’s temperament. They don’t like long dissertations. Just show them where to put the butt, give them a peanut, and they’re good
It’s like collecting soda pop bottles back in the 60s, which you’re frowning at now because you’ve never done it.
Growing up, I frequently traded soda pop bottles for cash. It paid more than peanuts, making my present situation even more embarrassing.
Now I am working for peanuts.
Altruism has never been my strongest suit, although, like I said, I compost.
I guess I’m not as smart as crows. I didn’t look at the good angle. Altruism has never been my strongest suit, although, like I said, I compost.
Would I write about composting? It isn’t really my thing.
Then again, with the international exposure these crows are getting (and no doubt the magpies and jackdaws will as well), I should be thinking of doing some good. I see other writers on Medium asking for help. Maybe I can do something for them. We’re all in this together, as they say.
Except, when you’re making peanuts, who cares about the other guy, right? I got a peanut, you’ve got a peanut. Big deal. It’s all still peanuts.
That’s the other thing about crows. They get peanuts and they’re thrilled. No doubt they go around bragging to other crows, because there isn’t a shortage of these birds lining up to toss a butt in a bin and get a peanut.
Imagine if we did that with this country’s homeless.
It’s not like these crows developed their own special niche. They didn’t have a plan or a strategy — or even a stupid idea.
Anyway, I have to hand it to these birds. They’ve cornered the market, so to speak. With the exception of some magpies and jackdaws, it’s doubtful other birds will take on the job. Seagulls are too unruly, and pelicans would probably be mistaken for ashtrays.
No, it takes a special bird, that’s for sure. And a pretty lucky one at that. It’s not like these crows developed their own special niche. They didn’t have a plan or a strategy — or even a stupid idea.
Someone just came along one day, said “Stick a butt in this bin, and we’ll give you a peanut.” Next thing you know, they’re national heroes.
Meanwhile, I’m working tirelessly on articles, researching topics, writing what I hope delves into areas not covered by other writers. Am I a national hero? No. Do I earn peanuts, yes.
This past month I earned $48 for eleven articles, some of which had a 57% read ratio. I’m not saying these crows don’t have a high read ratio. I know they’re being read all over the world.
So, yes, it bugs me these crows are getting all this attention. Hell, they’d still be begging for french fries if this Corvid Cleaning thing hadn’t come along.
But doesn’t anyone realize these crows are one trick ponies? This whole thing is a flash in the pan. A week from now, there won’t even be a story, unless those Swedes have something else up their sleeves.
So, yes, it bugs me these crows are getting all the attention. Hell, they’d still be begging for french fries if this Corvid Cleaning thing hadn’t come along. Trust those Swedes to make a big deal out of it. And trust those crows for being so publicity hungry. It’s bloody shameful watching them pose for photos holding a cigarette butt in their beaks.
Anyway, I’d better get back to it. I’ve got articles to write, peanuts to be earned. Hopefully there’ll be some left after those stupid birds get through cleaning up Sweden and, no doubt, making everyone say “Go Crows!” while you can bet nobody’s saying “Go Authors!”
Here’s the worst part…now I feel like a peanut.
Robert Cormack is a journalist, novelist and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online or at most major bookstores (now in paperback). Check out Robert’s other articles and stories at robertcormack.net or by joining https://robertcormack.medium.com/membership
