A few years ago I read about this study where researchers figured out how much a rhesus monkey would “pay” to look at various members of their group, where “payment” was accomplished by allowing them to forgo a sip of juice in exchange for the look. Not too surprisingly, the male monkeys paid to see the backsides of female monkeys, explaining most of the content of the Internet. A little more surprisingly, they also paid to see the high-ranking members of their group (and in contrast, had to be paid to look at the low-ranking ones). This phenomenon explains the entire business model of People, Us, the E! channel, and so on.

High-ranking primates. That’s where a good chunk of our money, time, and attention goes, I’m afraid. What are they doing? Who are they mating with? Are they available? Are they bearing any offspring? Who are they allied with? Would they like me? When can I see them again?

What’s sad, of course, is to realize that you’re not above it any more than you’re above salivating at a picture of a double-bacon cheeseburger broadcast at 10 p.m. (why isn’t there a law?). It’s just a slightly pathetic part of our primate heritage: deep-down, gut-level fascination with rank and, uh, female backsides. Given the scaling factor of mass-media, those primates who reach the pages of People are very highly ranked indeed.

Which is not to say that you can’t fight the powers! Next time you’re in line at the grocery store, strike a blow against the tyranny of rank and don’t look. Sip your juice instead.