I got the shot today. And took a picture of it.
I have no clue what went in my arm.
Maybe it was a placebo, or a liquid algorithm that will control my destiny, or the vaccine for Covid-19? I took the needle with a smile and good faith in humanity that I received the latter.
The last year has only accelerated my fascination with our species. Of course, my closest friends know I've always loved the subject of human nature, but the pandemic made me think deeply about who "WE" are as humans.
We're a small part of nature. Many of us quickly forget we're just another species on this big, diverse blue planet. Just as Oak Wilt (Ceratocystis fagacearum) is killing thousands of trees, humans are plagued with our own diseases and always will be. Each of us plays a small role in a large ecosystem that never stops changing, evolving, and adapting while outlasting us all.
We're team players. Our altruistic ways placed us on top of the animal kingdom, and it appears being a team player is the best way to protect ourselves and our loved ones. It's the reason I jumped in line for the shot. A toddler will help an adult open the door they're struggling with, but a chimpanzee never will.
We quickly trust, align, associate, and assemble with other humans most like ourselves to protect ourselves. In this lies the basis of racism, discrimination, and inequality. We form instantaneous judgments (right or wrong) to protect ourselves and our families. Accepting others that look or behave differently takes a long history of trust to overcome genetic predisposition to see the difference as a threat. I have hope we'll get there and believe we're making progress, but we still have lots of work to do.
We need purpose. Without it, we die spiritually or physically.
We're all the same. One hundred and eight billion humans have come before me, and I'm one of the 8 billion strolling the earth today. Much has changed over the last 100 billion iterations of our species, but our human nature remains the same. Travel to any culture in the world, and you'll find a common language, gossip, trade, social classes, self-preservation, and reproduction at the forefront of daily life.
We know very little. I don't know what went in my arm today, much less how many fish species exist on earth, or how the 10 million cells of bacteria in my gut microbiome got there. I'm making some bold observations today with the irony that we—and definitely me—know very little about the world we live in today.
We do good most of the time. Generally speaking, humans act with kindness. We say hi to our neighbors instead of punching them in the face. Bad exists and always will, but decency, respect, and kindness win the day. What's even more promising is we're trending in a less violent direction. It wasn't long ago that the easiest way to solve a dispute was to kill the other person.
We're a social species. The pain felt by COVID-19 far exceeds the death toll. It has attacked our genetic predisposition to assemble with our tribes. The impacts of social isolation remain hard to measure but are real and long-lasting.
We're seeing rapid evolution in digital media. Digital technology and social media have changed how we communicate forever. The social distancing protocols of the last 365 days have put this change in warp speed. Even more, our hunter-gather brains haven't evolved at the same pace. Historically, news and notifications drove life and death decisions. Survival no longer hangs in this balance, but our urgency does. I plan to write more on this later but will leave it here today: Evolution doesn't care about your happiness (and media is rapidly evolving).
We're an unhappy species. The world we live in today, even with the virus, is by most measurable statistics (life expectancy, wealth, equality, violence) superior to what it was 200 years ago. Yet, our overall happiness fails to match this trajectory. The patient receiving a life-saving heart transplant (only possible in recent years) immediately complains about the taste of the food in the hospital cafeteria. Life is painful. Birth is painful, death is painful, and everything in between comes with a little pain along the way. We're good at overcoming pain. It's happiness where we struggle most.
We're the most adaptive species. We're certainly not the fittest, especially in America, but boy, are we ever adaptive. Vaccine development generally takes 10-15 years. The mumps vaccine broke records with its four-year lead time. I write this today, one year and four months after our first U.S. COVID case, and anyone in American who wants the vaccine is eligible to receive it. The Passenger Pigeon and Javan Tiger weren't nearly as adaptive.
We live by simple stories. After we're born, we first ask for nourishment and safety. Then we request a story. Stories craft our world and world views. We describe life with a beginning, middle and end. A green piece of paper with George Washington on it is worth $1, a touchdown scores 6 points, and this current mess all started with someone eating a bat. None of these stories are actually true—unless we believe them.
We fix ourselves. The human body can repair the damage done. We've lost 3.4 million lives to this pandemic, but another 167 million (minimum) have recovered from the disease. I hit a tree with my 20-year-old truck on the first day of 2021. It didn't fix itself.
We all imagine. Only humans can talk about things they've never experienced. You couldn't convince my Golden Retriever Chimmy to give up her bone today for two bones tomorrow, but 2 billion people praise a god for an afterlife they can only imagine. And I hop in line for a shot of who-knows-what today if I believe it will create a better tomorrow.
We see good slow, and bad fast. It's likely how we evolved. A lion will take you out in a matter of seconds, but the benefits of exercise can take years to come to fruition. It's likely why you haven't seen the headline that 1.2 million Americans beat cancer in 2020, but the latest mass shooting is always front-page news. This trend also carries over into habits. The joy of good habits (e.g. diet) comes slowly, and the joy of bad habits (e.g. drugs) comes fast.
We assemble in an organized fashion to achieve significant results. You're not going to find birds filing into the local fairgrounds to get vaxxed for the common good of their species. But we'll do it in style. And a big thank you to all the volunteers (also a uniquely human behavior) for the role you played in my shot today.
We die. Maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now, but we all bite the big one. Steve Jobs and the homeless man without a penny in his pocket are both dead. Death. It is the great equalizer that greets us all.
We disagree. For some stupid reason, I thought we'd all agree on solutions to the first pandemic of my lifetime. Boy, was I wrong! I find this refreshing, actually. No matter what you believe the problem and solutions may be, another equally competent human being thinks the exact opposite.
I write this from my sore arm today and achy body tomorrow, not with the arrogance of understanding humanity, but with the humility that drives my curiosity and eagerness to learn.
I write this with the gratitude of being human in 2021.
Sources: I wish these thoughts were all my own, but I know better. 108 billion minds have come before mine, and I live in a time where information far exceeds our time to learn. I didn't hyperlink to sources because I didn't want to distract the reader, but I'm giving most of the credit for the ideas to Yuval Harrari, E.O. Wilson, Kevin Hart, Joe Rogan, Stephen Pinker, Matt Ridley, Kurt Vonnegut, Andrew Huberman, Nicholas Christakis, Rich Roll, Wright Thompson, Ryan Holiday, Sam Harris, and many more I may be forgetting.