Homo Sapiens: Destroyers of the World

I am reading Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. It’s taking me some time because it is dense with thought-provoking ideas that need digesting. I am about halfway through and the premise is already clear; homo sapiens are the most successful species on earth because they have destroyed everything in their path since appearing on the planet a couple of hundred thousand years ago. Ok, maybe a bit hyperbolic?

Not really according to Harari and according to the museum displays at The Cradle of Humankind, a Unesco World Heritage site about 50kms from Johannesburg. I visited the Cradle yesterday with a friend and the world of the book and the physical evidence of our evolution converged.

Sapiens developed big brains, learned to communicate, to love and hate, and to eventually desire more than they ever needed to survive (like our hunter/gatherer ancestors). As a result, we have evolved into a relentlessly greedy and divided species determined to destroy ourselves.

One area that did not evolve over the millennia is our species distrust for anyone that looks or acts different. Despite our magnificent evolution, we remain as tribal as dark-skinned Homo Erectus, the first hominin to roam Africa. It’s a strange and curious thing - our evolution. It’s debatable for sure. And, of course, not everyone is a self-serving, greedy, racist. But if we look around, what do we see?

Every day we hear about climate change, racism, poverty, all sorts of oppression, deforestation, and, well, the list goes on and on. If it’s not about money, it’s about our allegiance to those that look like us.

It begs the question, what has the evolution of our bigger brain done for us?

It’s easy to become despondent about humankind because of the crazy, insurmountable issues we see every day. But, let’s not fall into that trap. Let’s continue to evolve - our brains don’t need to be any bigger, our brains simply need to ignite and release whatever part holds compassion, kindness, and love.

Comments

The Tragedy of Human Despair

The Tragedy of Human Despair in South Africa I came across this scene while running errands. The person, a man, I think, sat on the dirty, tar road at a robot, straddling the center and right turn lanes on a busy street. The light had turned red, so I was forced to face the human tragedy of poverty, hunger, and hopelessness. It’s not like I hadn’t seen people on the streets begging for food, clothes, jobs, or anything to sustain them for another day, but this was different. He rested in a fetal position, head bowed and covered by a white t-shirt juxtaposed against black clothing. And what about the books? I couldn’t see their titles; maybe one was a bible. He was as still as a statue and as quiet as the dark before the dawn. He did not flinch or moan, nor did he have pleading hands reaching out for a tidbit of salvation. The human was simply there, a tableau worthy of a production by the Ontological-Hysterical theatre company in New York City’s lower...

The Golden Glow of the Bush

The Golden Glow of the Bush I have seen some glorious skies during my travels around the world, from the smog-induced fluorescent sunsets in Moscow to the burning red horizon in Lake Tahoe. Looking up toward the heavens at dusk is my favorite time of day. But, nowhere have I ever been so mesmerized by the setting sun than in the bush. Why? Because the light the fading sun casts on the landscape is like no other. Call it the golden hour or the magic hour, or the hour when a quiet hush blankets the land as day turns to night. Birds sing their bedtime songs, jackals practice their forlorn calls, and predators wake, yawning widely, preparing for the hunt. The fading light signals transformation from the brightness to darkness, from things seen to those unseen. Lazy, sleeping lions transform from looking like cuddly stuffed animals to ferocious stalkers of anything that moves. Hunger calls them to action, stealthy and relentless in their pursuit. Owls waken, looking for bu...

A Baboon Family

A Baboon Family This baboon family makes me happy. The setting is peaceful, all four calmly sitting on a rock, at rest. Except for the baby looking directly at our game vehicle with curiosity, the other three's eyes gazing elsewhere. Despite their sharp as daggers canine teeth, nut-crushing jaws, naughty opportunistic foraging of camper's food, and a hierarchy of dominating male bullies, baboons can be quiet and peaceful, going about their daily business in a well-defined social order. These old-world monkeys thrive in friend and family units; females form strong bonds to raise and protect the kids, forage for food, and stay loyal to the troop for their entire lives. Like human families, they comfort each other, play, and squabble but ultimately come together for the good of the community and protection from predators - for the most part. Yes, there's a bit of infanticide by the males, beating females for the heck of it, violently tossing little ones to the side when ...

Donna Moreau - Writer On The Road

Search This Blog