When I was little, like any other kid, I loved dinosaurs. Far and away, Triceratops was my favorite, and honestly a big reason why was because I was a contrarian. Whether in Calvin and Hobbes cartoons or books on dinosaurs, T. rex always took the center stage, and for good reason. T. rex wasn't the most massive carnivorous dinosaur, but it was discovered early enough to embed itself deeply into our cultural memory. And which dinosaur is it always portrayed fighting? Triceratops. And ultimately, T. rex would come out on top.
My love of Triceratops may have, unfortunately, been fueled by a hatred of T. rex simply because it was popular and powerful. I had a set of paint-your-own dinosaurs, and I painted the T. rex and another dinosaur- I believe a Velociraptor- pink. I wanted to belittle the carnivores, and back then, I bought into the unstated rhetoric that pink is feminine and feminine is inferior. This was a rather harmful mindset for me to have held, but that is a subject for another day.
Anyway, I therefore wanted to support the underdog in prehistoric showdowns- the plant eater. What makes things interesting is how, when I was growing up, there were two competing hypotheses to describe what Triceratops used its horns for. Paleontologists believed Triceratops used its horns either to fight off predators, or to compete for mates, or some combination of the two. Of course, I had my previously stated reasons to want for Triceratops to have fought off its assailants, beyond than the usual kid's desire to see dinosaurs fight.
There is one book I had, whose cover image I used for this article, that talks about a particular species of Triceratops, Triceratops maximus. T. maximus, isn't too well established in the fossil record, but the few specimens that have been unearthed are absolutely spectacular. The living animal must have weighed more than two elephants, and the skulls were considerably longer than a person is tall; it's definitely worth talking about. I loved the book about T. maximus not just because it focuses on Triceratops but for how it portrays the dinosuar. The book opens with a story of a T.rex wandering into a swamp looking for a meal, only to be stabbed by the horn of a massive T. maximus and chased off. The later chapters describe how T. maximus could have used it powerful beak and horns to attack, and its frill to defend. The book inspired me to favor Triceratops even more than I already did. I painted my Triceratops figurine the toughest color scheme I could think of – a camo pattern with red eyes. T. rex wouldn't have stood a chance!
Or would it? I owned other books about dinosaurs. I had a more general dinosaur book that paints a different picture of my favorite dinosaur. Its section on Triceratops also opens with a scene of the dinosaur stabbing a T. rex with its horn, causing the predator to retreat. But then the author steps back, and asks what Triceratops really used its horns for. Probably not to fight off predators, it concludes, but rather so males could compete among themselves for mates or territory. Male Triceratops had larger horns than females, and their horns tend to be scarred in a way that suggests the dinosaurs would lock horns like modern horned animals competing among themselves.
At some point after reading this section, I hid the book in the closet. I didn't want to believe my favorite underdog could be so undermined. I told myself that if scientists were still debating exactly what Triceratops used its horns , I could agree with the people whose views I liked.
Years later, I was sorting through my closet and decided to return the book to one of my shelves. By then the courtship hypothesis has become dominant, along with the proposal that Triceratops identified each other by their horns and frill. While a cornered Triceratops could have fought back if necessary, no member of the species would have stood its ground against a T. rex.
Honestly, I sort of knew when I put that book away that Triceratops was not primarily a fighter and its horns and frill were mostly for show and competition. Why else would I have so feared a different point of view? If I remember correctly, I only hid the book after I started to doubt Triceratops was a fighter. I had built up a grand story in which, for once, the prey vanquishes its powerful and popular foe, and I wanted it validated. I wanted to believe so badly that for once the underdog would win. Nature however, has never bothered adhering to such rules.
I can see that I was biased now in part because I am older; I have more of an ability to sift through information that both upholds and contradicts my views and find the truth. I'm not disappointed with myself in any way for believing what I did; I was a kid, after all, and paleontologists did use to believe that Triceratops primarily used its horns against predators. It took me a while to realize that some of the older paleontologists may have been wrong.
It also helps that Triceratops isn't my only favorite dinosaur now. While I still love the genus, I think my favorite dinosaurs now are the theropods, the group most closely related to birds. Not being so emotionally invested in the subject made the truth less hard, and I accepted it with ease.
I know that I must still cling to some Triceratops stories about the world in general. I think that much of our political and ideological differences come from having different values, different stories we tell ourselves. And depending on what you value, you emphasize certain facts and ignore some. Don't hide books or ideas away from yourself. Ask yourself if your views reflect the world around us, or if you just want to see the Triceratops win for once.
