I hate admitting this in public, but there were times when I schmaybe have muttered "some phrases" out of growing frustration because one of my daughter's decisions to get so mad that she rolled onto her back during a tantrum, pushed herself backward, and propelled herself outside, not bothering to open the screen door, instead parting the screen sea.
It was at this time that I decided to, but not follow through on my plans, to save money for bail when she was old enough to become a perp.
Now?
She’s a fantastic legal guardian, making important choices for someone who can’t do it unaided! From healthcare and living situations to education and daily needs, she steps in to help wherever the court guides her. It’s such an important role, and she truly makes a difference in her ward’s life!
Who would've seen that coming?
Every parent everywhere has said things in frustration that he or she never meant to say. Yet only a single man ever stepped onto a golf course, watched a kid melt down, and delivered a line that best summed up both comedy and zoology. Rodney Dangerfield leaned back in Caddyshack and shouted, “Now I know why tigers eat their young.”
The line worked because it was human truth wrapped in animal instinct. And for some species, eating their young happens more often than you might think.
There are several scientific explanations for why so many critters make that choice. Patterns are consistent and clear: Stress, fear, hunger, poor health, or the need to preserve energy all play a role. Animals never step back and weigh moral questions; they simply respond to instinct and survival pressure.
For many small mammals, especially hamsters, stress triggers the behavior; loud noise, sudden threats, or overcrowded cages create panic. A frightened mother hamster knows she can't guard her entire litter.
Evolution composed the rest of that rule: She reduced the number of offspring to protect the few she could support. What looks cruel to us makes cold sense when the alternative is losing all of them.
Some species use the act to raise the odds for the strongest young: A mother rabbit may remove a kit that can't survive. When a cub shows weakness, we see a lion do the same; evolution favors parents who prioritize the survival of the healthy over equal care for all.
Sentiment doesn't guide them; it's biology tuned for success in a world that never forgives hesitation.
Reptiles and fish bring another angle. A female may lay hundreds or even thousands of eggs. Most never reach adulthood, so those species rely on quantity rather than nurturing. Adults often eat eggs or fried foods without recognizing them, instead following hunger signals rather than emotional bonds; including hormonal shifts, seasonal changes, and available food drive these choices, without any sense of family connection.
There are even practical reasons tied to nutrition; some insects eat unhatched eggs so they don't waste the energy invested in producing them. Snakes may eat stillborn young to recover strength; nature doesn't leave resources unused, because the next hunt or meal is never guaranteed.
Sometimes, larger predators show yet another motive: Male lions that seize control of a pride kill cubs that aren't theirs. Once the cubs die, the females return to heat, giving the new alpha a chance to pass along his genes. As brutal as this pattern sounds, it stays rooted in power and reproduction; it's not rage or revenge, it simply clears the path for a new generation tied to the dominant male.
Rodney Dangerfield probably didn't think about any of that when he delivered his line; he was tapping into the same release valve that parents everywhere understand. Raising kids is exhausting; animals feel pressure, too, but lack the tools we meat sacks rely on. The animals don't ease fear through humor or restore patients through deep breaths; they follow instincts shaped by thousands of years of survival.
This line of thinking also reminds us how unusual humans are: We raise children with support systems, family networks, medicine, and emotional connections. We complain, joke, and pace hallways all night, but the bond we form is much deeper than instinct.
Humans invest years in each of our children; some animals invest minutes. The difference reveals how fragile our place in nature truly is. We live by cooperation, but many species live by reaction.
Understanding the "why" animals eat their young isn't an excuse for it; it only explains how nature maintains balance. Life in the wild leaves no margin for error; when resources drop, or danger rises, instinct takes control.
On our worst days, when we hear Rodney's line in our heads, we know he never meant it.
Nature did.
