The Edge of Death

The Homo sapiens specie has, for most of its existence, lived on the precipice of possible sudden death. This is what we know.

Sure, we settled down as farmers back in the day, and that must have done a thing or two to our evolution, at least culturally, but basically, it’s been a kill or be killed world for so long and for that world are we wired.

We watch harsh sports and we ride roller-coasters and we go to scary movies. These are pretty harmless and seem to me to be wonderful adaptations as a way to keep the inner survivalist alive.

But then, we still conduct business and manhandle the planet in a way that puts us at great risk. Journalists write about how we are in denial about our negative behaviors. But I don’t believe we are in denial. I believe the fight for acquiring wealth in the face of ruinous, perilous competition has always been the activity human beings have used to stave off death, even if it means causing death, even if it means causing death to the self.

It’s maladaptive. It’s why species are so tragically funny.

Rolling along the streets of Los Angeles today in my 1992 Geo Prizm during rush hour, I could not help but see all these people in various states of survival and antagonism. Driving in Los Angeles has turned a corner over the past two years. It has become aggressive and competitive. The exhaust is killing us. But humans love it. They love to feel like their lives are threatened and to fight against this threat. Maladapted. Maladapted. It’s not even our fault. The evolutionary experiment has brought us to this point. We are in the Petri dish. We are the species that likes to live on the edge of death. Problem with the edge is, you’re right at the edge.