Going Tharn

For the premier issue of B612, our own Shari Swan has written an opinion on our latest trend- Going Tharn. For all of you who have forgotten the classic Watership Down, a quick recap. The term comes from the aforementioned book, which describes the universe from the point of view of a herd of rabbits. The rabbits have to deal with their paralyzing fear. In common usage, going tharn is a deer-in-the-headlights panic and paralysis caused by trying to solve too many problems at once. It’s a type of overwhelm experienced by rabbits and humans under deadline or emotional stress.

While communing with nature in Sierra de Gredos, Shari found herself surrounded by nine mountain goats with a suspiciously deer-in-the-headlights expression.

For real. Read the article.
The world is Going Tharn.

I’ve got this crazy almost subconscious thing I do when I’m walking down the street. Being a lover of dogs and not having the lifestyle to own one myself, I can’t help but stare at an owner and their pet trying to align their similar features. Sometimes it’s the way their hair is styled, other times it’s the shape of their noses. The contours of their bodies, the accessories they adorn, the regalness with which they walk, the gruff aura they put forth or the happy smiling eyes – inevitably people look like their pets. If I hadn’t of heard this well-known hypothesis, I often wonder if I would be so obsessed with proving this theory the past fifteen years of my life.

For years scientists have been studying the differences between animals and humans. After all, humans are biological creatures. While we share many similarities, take flight or fight or the notion of survival of the fittest, we are in essence very different. However, although we’re all animals, we also have features that no other animal has: the most complex social structure on earth. We gather in families, tribes, clans and nations. And, we interact with one another through incredible sophistication-speech. Our memories are the longest, our interactions the most intricate and we are one of the only species controlled not only by our own biology but by the society we have created.

Over the years, endless discussions have taken place about the similarities and differences between man and animals and leading the research is the critical question: “Do animals have consciousness?”. I say yes. They tell it to us with their eyes, their movements, their expressions and their fears. We exhibit similar behaviours only under different environmental circumstances.

Earlier this summer, I found myself in a most unusual situation. Having decided to take a break in the Spanish mountains outside Madrid, my boyfriend and I spent two days hiking through one of the most beautiful mountain ranges I’ve ever seen; the Sierra De Gredos. It’s been awhile since I’ve had the great fortune to sleep under the stars and as we pitched the tent and ate spaghetti out of our lone aluminium pot, I was amazed by the sounds of nature. While my Canadian heritage is a countrified one, my ten years in European hotels, planes, beaches and insanely packed cities has all but erased my memories of anything as remotely pristine as the sound of mating bullfrogs.

When the heavens opened up around three am, I donned my headlamp and headed to the outdoor potty – one of several trips made that night. There was a muffled discussion between my boyfriend and me as I tried to convince him of the necessity that he join me to quell my fears of the big dark wilderness that lay just outside my zippered comfort zone. He rolled over and told me not to worry, that there were no grizzly bears in Spain. As I took my first steps outside the tent – kind of like Neil Armstrong on the moon, I could sense I was not alone. I swung my head around for the lamp to guide my path and in doing so came face to face with my intruders. Nine sets of eyes were peering at me through the blackness of our mountainside. And they were frozen eyes that were as terrified by my presence as I was by theirs. I was speechless as were they, and we both stood incapacitated for several seconds. I backed in to the tent and decided to cancel the toilet run as they stood staring at me with sheer terror in their eyes. My mountain goats were simply going tharn. After all they’re only human.

The term tharn comes from the book Watership Down, which describes the universe from the point of view of a herd of rabbits. The rabbits have to deal with their paralysing fear. In common usage, going tharn is a deer-in-the-headlights panic and paralysis caused by trying to solve too many problems at once. It’s a type of overwhelm experienced by rabbits and humans under deadline or emotional stress. You see, we do share some similar biological features.

As I lay awake for the rest of the night I began to develop a hypothesis for the world of tharn – as you do when you’re alone with your thoughts in the black of night on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. While animals are going tharn with panic when faced with artificial intrusion in their habitat, so too are humans in the face of product, marketing and branding churn. The society that we created. I once read an article which massively impacted my life and I have not been able to get it out of mind ever since:

- Every 5 years - the total of all printed knowledge doubles;
- Every year - 1,000 new soft drink products are launched in Japan;
- Every month - 2,500 new albums are released in America;
- Every day - 4,000 new books are published;
- Every hour - 2 new products are launched by Sony;
- Every 5 minutes - A new film or new CD or new book or new something is developed by Disney.

“I seem particularly prone to tharnism in drugstores,grocery stores and in tech shops.”

No wonder consumers are going tharn! As I tossed and turned and tried to think about sea waves to quell my racing mind, I could only think about the number of times I turned tharn in the past few years.

I seem particularly prone to tharnism in drugstores, grocery stores and in tech shops. For example, the last time I tried to buy toothpaste, I actually exited the store empty handed because I couldn’t choose between the tartar control, fresh breath, whitener, tricoloured, vitamin supplemented, Fluoride treated, baking soda or Barbie branded versions of tooth paste. When you’re offered such choice all claiming to target a specific human need or requirement, it really makes you wonder if any of it’s necessary or even wanted by consumers. Think about the scads of yoghurt products lining the dairy shelves at your local Albert Heijn. The new flavours I could handle, but the minute the manufacturers started to add pharmaceutical-like jargon to the labels, they completely lost me. Should I have my intestines cleansed each morning with the ‘good bacteria’ kind of yoghurt? Needless to say, I don’t do yoghurt any more and if I do I just go for the old school Greek tubs with nothing but the plain white stuff in it.

I wonder in awe how many more products our overcrowded world can continue to house. While media is blowing sustainability and corporate responsibility out of the water, I prayed in my sleeping bag that night that a new definition of corporate responsibility emerges. The less is more mantra. The new big is small mantra. And the timeless is precious mantra. The world doesn’t need more stuff. We’re all feeling uncomfortably full and tired of going tharn. Take away the multitude of choice and just give us basic, amazing quality and reliable old friends. That’s all we want.

My paralysing fear subsided as I heard the mountain goats trot off to their ledges to go to sleep. Their tharn too had subsided as they realized I was taking care of it all for them inside our small tent that night. If nothing more than in my dreams.

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Shari Swan is CEO and founder of Streative Branding in Amsterdam, a consumer intelligence, trend and design studio committed to reducing global tharn.