Count me with Kyla, Aesiron, and others who look at humanity as just another species of animal on this tiny, insignificant ball of rock and water.
I’m fairly cynical about humanity, but I think it’s a realistic cynicism, if that makes any sense. I don’t think we’re inherently good or inherently bad; I think we simply are. And what we are, on average, is selfish, short-sighted, prone to violence, fearful, defensive, and incurious, with a minority of important exceptions. Basically, we’re exactly the same as the gorillas, baboons, and chimps we’re the closest relatives of, except that on top of piles and piles of territoriality and herd instinct we have this paper-thin layer of cognition of which we are inordinately proud. It’s served us well, but it isn’t all that.
Consider, for example, how people tend to be wired for unhappiness. If you have shelter, you don’t have enough to eat. If you have enough to eat, you’re lonely. If you have companionship, you don’t have enough material goods. If you have enough material goods, you don’t have the best material goods. If you have excellent material goods, you don’t have the best job. Or the best companion. Or your kids aren’t doing as well in school as you’d like. Or you can’t get your hair to behave the way you’d like. Or the sink keeps dripping no matter how many times you change the washer. Or your remote control doesn’t fit perfectly in your hand. Or you’re annoyed because radio reception is spotty at your desk at work. Or your favorite baseball team isn’t doing well. Or you have a hangnail. Whatever.
Point is, we tend to overlook what we have, and focus on what we don’t have. This is common behavior to all of us; we take the good for granted and obsess about what’s inadequate or missing. It’s just human.
Now, on the one hand, this is really irritating. It seems to me that if you’ve got a warm place to sleep and keep your stuff, and if you’re getting enough to eat, and if you’ve got good friends, and if you aren’t at risk of being killed by renegade soldiers or eaten by a dire wolf, hey, you’ve got it pretty damn good, and you have no right to complain so bitterly about your lot in life, especially if the problems are of your own making (“waaah, I got another parking ticket, waaah”). Still, we humans seem to bitch and moan an awful lot, out of proportion to our actual situation.
But on the other hand, this is how we improve our situations. We focus on what’s wrong so we can fix it. We’ve dealt with most of the big issues; seven-eighths of us get plenty to eat, we’ve cured the most common and easiest-to-treat diseases, we have a stable social structure that insulates most of us from the worst dangers, we’re up to our necks in entertainment alternatives, and so on. And we have all of this because we’re never satisfied with how things are, because we’re always grousing and looking for improvements. Trains aren’t fast enough? Here’s an airplane. Postal service slow and unreliable? Here’s email. Doorknob doesn’t latch properly? Here’s a better one. Dishwasher detergent leaves spots on the glassware? New and Improved with Sheeting Action.
We’re surrounded by astonishing luxury and convenience, because we are wired for dissatisfaction and complaint and have created it to make our lives better; but we take it all for granted and keep finding stuff to bellyache about, because we’re wired for dissatisfaction and complaint.
I look at people, overall, the same way. The traits that are our greatest strengths are also our greatest failings. We are simultaneously the most amazingly wonderful thing on this planet, and the worst and most destructive. Neither extreme position, for me, captures the entire truth.