Humankind - Book Summary

A Fresh Look at Humanity: Are We Born Sinners or Social Beings?

It's a common belief, almost as old as civilization itself, that we humans are inherently flawed creatures. This grim view suggests that, left to our own devices, we'd succumb to our worst impulses, resulting in chaos and destruction. The news we consume daily seems to confirm this, inundating us with stories of conflict, deceit, and greed. This perspective paints a picture of humanity as a species in dire need of stringent control — with governments and laws acting as the necessary restraints to prevent societal collapse.

Under this shadowy canopy of human nature, the egoists — those who prioritize self-interest above all else — seem to thrive. The world appears to be a cruel arena where only the strongest and most self-serving can prosper.

But is this narrative truly reflective of human nature, or is it a narrative error as rife as it is old? Recent scholarship across a broad spectrum of disciplines, from anthropology to psychology, is challenging this archaic viewpoint with compelling evidence.

This fresh narrative turns the old paradigm on its head — with significant implications for how we view our past, handle our present, and envision our future. Here, we’ll explore some fascinating instances, like the spontaneous truce between enemy soldiers during the grimness of World War I, how the media we consume might be functioning as a societal "nocebo," and the significance of a term referred to as "Homo puppy".

This pivot from the conventional view of humanity as fundamentally selfish to one of inherent cooperative spirit invites us to reconsider many of the assumptions that underlie our institutions, societies, and the very bedrock of human interaction. Join us on a journey to uncover whether we have been misunderstanding our own nature for centuries — and what this might mean for the way we build our world.

Human Solidarity Prevailed Over Chaos During the Blitz

The most notorious leaders of the 20th century, names synonymous with the tumult of war and power, drew inspiration from a single unsettling narrative: humans are innately savage, and adversity frees this beast within. Gustave Le Bon posited this theory in his influential work, "The Psychology of the Masses," painting crisis and war as catalysts for unleashing our most barbaric instincts.

This grim prediction guided Adolf Hitler's strategy during World War II. Intent on sowing discord and panic in the heart of Britain, Hitler unleashed the grim power of the Luftwaffe on London in 1940, expecting the city to crumble under the terror of the Blitz. What ensued, however, was a testament to the resilience and innate sociability of the human spirit.

Against the dark anticipation of societal collapse, London presented a startling counter-narrative. Despite the dread and despair, the emergency psychiatric wards set up in anticipation of widespread panic stayed largely empty. London, under siege, displayed a remarkable semblance of normalcy — children played amidst the rubble, citizens engaged in daily commerce, and the stoic enjoyment of tea persisted amidst the echoes of bombings.

The heart of the message here is starkly clear: catastrophic events do not strip us down to our most primitive selves.

Instead, the Blitz witnessed a surge in collective strength. Grief was palpable and losses profound, but the spirit of camaraderie rose powerfully above the havoc. Alcoholism saw a decline, suicide rates dropped, and accounts of the era tell of a certain nostalgia for the wartime solidarity that once filled the streets with a spirit of mutual aid.

Contrary to the theory of psychological decline under pressure, the Londoners of the Blitz demonstrated a shared human capacity for cooperation and compassion in the face of existential threat. Hitler's attempts to fracture the British will inadvertently fortified it, marking a robust denial of Le Bon's hypothesis that adversity begets barbarism. Far from regressing to selfishness, a crisis of such magnitude brought the people of London together, knitting the fabric of society tighter in the wake of the storms of war.

Challenging the Myth of Inherent Selfishness

"Keep Calm and Carry On"—a phrase now woven into pop culture, often finds itself stamped across merchandise and memes. Originating as a wartime morale booster, it has evolved far beyond its roots as an emblem of British steadfastness during World War II. Yet the calm and collected response this slogan calls to mind should not be seen as exclusively British; it speaks to a broader human quality.

Studies and real-life events demonstrate that humans are not the innately selfish creatures we often believe ourselves to be. This misconception is put to the test in times of dire crises, such as the aftermath of the September 11 attacks or during natural disasters like hurricane Katrina. Despite the fear and chaos, instead of breaking down into disorder and selfishness, people have repeatedly come together, exhibiting selfless acts of bravery and kinship.

The key takeaway here is that the persistent belief in our selfish nature is often contradicted by our actions.

For instance, the Disaster Research Center at the University of Delaware, after pouring over countless case studies, found that our behavior tends to be less selfish following disasters. Contradictorily, but perhaps predictably, media narratives and public discourse sometimes paint a bleaker picture.

When hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans, the media was awash with tales of violence and desperation. But as the cameras withdrew and reality had a chance to stand forth, it became evident that the true story was about people banding together, supporting one another, and even sharing resources obtained through looting with those in need.

The implication is profound: despite evidence of human selflessness in the face of disaster, we remain stubbornly attached to the narrative of selfish human nature. A 2011 study by American psychologists confirmed this bias, revealing that people often assume selfish motives even when faced with clear examples of altruistic behavior, such as returning a lost wallet—suggesting that our lens on human nature remains tinted with skepticism.

This negativity bias is powerful, stubbornly coloring our worldview. Despite ample evidence proving our capacity for prosocial behavior, the age-old image of a fundamentally selfish humanity lingers—getting in the way of an honest appraisal of our true selves. Breaking free from this cynical paradigm could redefine our understanding of each other and ourselves, laying the foundation for a society that celebrates our inherent propensity for cooperation and generosity.

Distorted Perceptions: How Media Shapes Our Views on Human Nature

Have you ever wondered why it's so easy to believe that humans are inherently selfish? Look no further than the information sources that shape our worldview: the news and fictional narratives. They have a more profound impact than you might think on our collective perception of human nature.

News outlets tend to focus on the extraordinary — unfortunately, often correlating "extraordinary" with calamity or malevolence. Consequently, the public is regularly bombarded with imagery and reports of tragedies, criminality, and conflict. On an average day, you're unlikely to encounter a headline celebrating the absence of conflict or highlighting peaceful cooperation. This relentless negativity skews our perspective and leaves us overcast with pessimism.

Consider this: news and fictional stories have an insidious power to worsen our view of humanity's nature.

Imagine ingesting a constant stream of content that nudges you to anticipate negative outcomes — akin to the concept of a nocebo. Just as placebos can foster positive health effects through sheer belief, nocebos instill adverse effects by priming expectations for the worst. In this way, negative news can be regarded as a societal nocebo, drip-feeding us doses of doubt about the human capacity for goodness.

Fiction, too, can twist reality with gripping tales that resonate with our deepest fears. William Golding's "Lord of the Flies" is a prime example. Revered for what was presumed to be a truthful portrayal of human behavior in the absence of societal norms, the novel depicts a descent into violence and anarchy as children struggle to govern themselves on a deserted island. Golding's grim fiction reinforced a perception of humanity predisposed to chaos and cruelty.

Yet, when Dutch historian Rutger Bregman went in search of a real-life "Lord of the Flies" scenario, he uncovered a starkly contrasting tale from 1966. A group of schoolboys found themselves stranded on an uninhabited island for over a year. Far from descending into savagery, these children cooperated, made communal decisions to avoid conflict, and maintained a fire together—a testament to their teamwork and friendship, enduring well beyond their eventual rescue.

This discovery begs the question: Which story is closer to the truth about human nature—the imagined horrors of Golding's novel or the real-life demonstration of unity and camaraderie? Our consistent overexposure to the world’s horrors, both real and fictional, may have heavily clouded our judgment. It's high time to clear the air and reassess the stories we choose to believe about who we are at our core.

Debunking the Myth of Humanity's Inherent Malevolence

The story of the schoolboys stranded on an island, thriving with cooperation rather than descending into savagery, raises a critical question: Are humans truly predisposed to evil when stripped of societal constraints? For centuries, philosophers like Thomas Hobbes have argued that in our natural state, we are selfish creatures prone to violence. This belief—that without the structures of law and governance we would spiral into a brutal "war of all against all"—still influences our perception of human nature today.

However, times have changed, and so has our ability to analyze humanity through a lens that stretches beyond pure conjecture.

Humans aren’t evil by nature, despite what the perpetual echoes of Hobbes's philosophy might suggest.

For a long time, anthropological and archaeological research appeared to endorse Hobbesian views. Notably, Napoleon Chagnon's depiction of the Yanomami as fierce people perpetually at war presented this Amazonian tribe as evidence supporting the theory of inherent human violence. Similarly, Steven Pinker's book "The Better Angels of Our Nature" argued, using skeletal remains, that prehistoric humans experienced lethal violence at a rate far surpassing that of contemporary society, suggesting civilization's role in curbing our savage tendencies.

Nevertheless, closer scrutiny of these analyses reveals crucial oversights. The Yanomami observed by Chagnon were already interacting with modern society and influenced by the tools he provided, calling into question the naturalness of their aggression. More strikingly, Pinker's statistics predominantly draw on eras postdating the advent of agriculture, casting doubt on the applicability of his findings to hunter-gatherer societies and undermining his argument that pre-agricultural humans were innately warlike.

The implications challenge centuries of thought on human nature. The revision of Chagnon's and Pinker's conclusions not only refutes the view of early humans as inherently violent but also invites us to reconsider the societal narrative that has painted a dark portrait of our species. By confronting these misconceptions, we crack open the door to a new understanding—one that portrays humans not as born evildoers but as inherently capable of cooperation, peace, and goodwill. It's a perspective that holds profound promise for reimagining our approach to social and political structures in a world all too ready to assume the worst.

Cooperation Over Competition: The True Driving Force of Human Evolution

What can ancient cave art reveal about our prehistoric ancestors' behavior before the dawn of civilization? The absence of war and violence in these primitive yet profound stone etchings prompts us to ponder the true nature of human evolution.

The pervasive philosophy of "survival of the fittest" suggests a world ruled by competition and dominance, but the evidence we can glean from our Stone Age archives tells a somewhat different story.

Human evolution isn't about survival of the fittest, but survival of the friendliest.

Research into the practices of past hunter-gatherer societies indicates infrequent violence between groups. Instead, collaboration was the norm: individuals who excelled in cooperation were more likely to survive and ultimately thrive. The evolutionary advantage, it seems, did not lie with the strongest or the most ruthless, but with the most sociable and collaborative.

But we must consider more than the cave walls; our very physiology attests to this friendliness factor. For example, the evolution of human facial features towards more youthful and approachable forms — softer, rounder lines — mirrors the process through which dogs became domesticated, earning us the moniker Homo puppy.

Moreover, the distinctiveness of our eyes — with visible whites — sets us apart in the animal kingdom. This unique trait enables us to easily communicate the direction of our gaze, fostering an environment of trust and shared focus.

Our intelligence further reinforces the argument for friendliness as a survival trait. While we may not be singularly impressive in cognitive tasks when compared to some of our primate relatives, we excel remarkably in social learning. Our superior ability to learn from and with others suggests a deep-seated need for connection and cooperation, underlining the idea that our cognitive development is inextricably linked with our social nature.

The evolution of Homo sapiens, it would seem, owes much to our tendency for mutual support and communication rather than our capacity for individual dominance. If humanity's past was shaped by survival of the friendliest, perhaps our future will be too, by recognizing and embracing these inherently collaborative traits. This alternate evolutionary narrative not only challenges our understanding of where we come from but also shines a hopeful light on where we might be headed.

From Homo Puppy to Warring Societies: The Impact of Civilization on Human Violence

Understanding that violent conflict is not ingrained in our most primitive past, we must confront a jarring notion: what transformed the inherently social and collaborative Homo puppy into a species capable of such ferocity?

Delving into the history of human philosophy, we encounter Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who posited a stark contrast to Thomas Hobbes' grim assessments of human nature. Rousseau argued that humanity, in its natural state, was essentially benevolent, but that the advent of civilization introduced the root of our violent tendencies.

Civilization turned humans violent, as we moved from nomadic tribes to settled societies with possessions and lands worth defending—transitioning from the communal sharing of resources to concepts of personal ownership.

As humans began to cultivate the land, bringing about the end of the nomadic hunter-gatherer lifestyle, societies established military outposts and saw the rise in depictions of archers in cave art. Skeletal remains from this period display evidence of violence wrought by human hands, a shift that coincides with the newfound necessity to protect property.

This change brought a profound psychological shift. In pre-agricultural times, possessions were transient in the lives of migratory tribes, making the shared hunter-gatherer existence less conducive to possessiveness or territorial disputes. But when humans settled, territoriality and a sense of fixed belonging emerged, along with the need to defend what one owned—a prompt for suspicion and hostility towards outsiders.

Violence also intertwined with the development of hierarchical structures within these nascent civilizations. Rulers and elites, no longer constrained by the egalitarian nature of nomadic life, were able to consolidate power and amass personal armies, distancing themselves from the checks and balances of societal censure that had once kept power in equilibrium.

Such a dramatic transformation raises questions about the fabric of our societies and the systems that govern them. By examining the historical shifts from shame-based regulation in hunter-gatherer societies to the power dynamics within settled civilizations, we begin to untangle the roots of societal violence and the ways in which our institutions perpetuate or mitigate human conflict.

The narrative that paints civilization as the catalyst for violence compels us to ponder deeply on how we could reshape our world—reigniting the flames of our intrinsic puppy-like nature to foster a future where social collaboration, rather than competition for resources and power, can once again prevail.

The Paradox of Empathy: A Double-Edged Sword

The notion that humanity is inherently good is comforting and seems supported by various lines of evidence. Yet the grim shadow of historical atrocities like the Holocaust looms, questioning our capacity for goodness. To make sense of such contradictions, we often look to ideology or brainwashing as explanations for why individuals commit acts of unspeakable cruelty. But the truth might be more nuanced than that.

During World War II, the tenacity and effectiveness of German soldiers baffled Allied scientists. These soldiers, facing certain defeat, fought with a fervor that eclipsed that of their adversaries. The prevailing assumption was that they had been thoroughly indoctrinated with Nazi ideology. However, direct interrogations would soon unveil a different motivation — one that dwelled deeply within the human psyche.

Our capacity for empathy also has a dark side.

Morris Janowitz, an American sociologist, discovered that German soldiers' unwavering dedication to the fight was not primarily due to ideological fervor, but a profound sense of camaraderie. It wasn't a deep love for the fatherland that kept them fighting; it was loyalty and affection for their comrades-in-arms.

This revelation points to an unsettling truth: the empathy that binds us to our friends and neighbors, that quintessentially human trait that we consider virtuous, can sometimes steer us down treacherous paths. Empathy, in its narrow focus, can render us blind to the plights of those outside our immediate group.

Empathizing deeply with those we are close to — those within our "zoom lens" — often comes at the expense of a broader perspective. In such a state, the sufferings of distant or abstract victims elude our emotional grasp.

Understanding the limited scope of empathy helps us to comprehend how individuals, even those with no inherent liking for violence, can perpetrate or support harmful actions. It suggests that humans can be mobilized to commit violence not just out of hatred, but also out of love for the few at the cost of the many.

The lesson is clear: empathy is not an unqualified good. Being attuned to this paradox can be key in navigating the complexities of human morality — in recognizing that the same empathy that drives us to help a fallen friend can also lead us, if not expanded beyond the familiar and the immediate, to overlook or even contribute to greater suffering.

Choosing Peace Over War: A Human Predilection for Nonviolence

The often-held belief that people instinctively turn to violence in battle, driven by the fight for survival, is not as straightforward as it appears. Contrary to the image of humans readily shedding their civil demeanor for a warlike stance, even in the most dire circumstances, we demonstrate a profound reluctance to engage in violence.

Humans avoid violence whenever possible, even in life-or-death situations.

This unexpected aversion to conflict was first quantified by Samuel Marshall, an American colonel and historian, during World War II. Puzzled by the failure of his seemingly superior battalion to capture Makin Island, Marshall conducted after-action interviews and found that only a small fraction of his soldiers had actually fired their weapons. This aversion to shooting the enemy was not isolated to a few individuals but was surprisingly common among the troops.

Further evidence of this phenomenon can be found in the casualty figures from British soldiers in World War II. An overwhelming majority of the fatalities were caused by impersonal means, such as bombs or mines. Close combat killings were significantly less common. This hesitance extended to the use of bayonets; despite their prevalence, they accounted for less than one percent of injuries in the Battle of Waterloo.

Contrary to depictions in media like "Game of Thrones," real-life battlefields are not arenas where killing comes easily. The human conscience resists taking lives even under extreme pressure.

Perhaps the most poignant illustration of this inherent proclivity for peace occurred during the Christmas Truce of 1914. On that extraordinary day, German and British soldiers laid down their arms in a spontaneous ceasefire, choosing fraternity over enmity. They shared in the joy of the holiday, gifting each other a moment of human connection amidst the dehumanizing circumstances of war.

The reluctance to return to battle was so strong that commanders faced challenges reengaging their troops. Even under the threat of severe penalties, soldiers found ways to avoid inflicting casualties on their newfound friends from the opposing trenches, deliberately aiming their shots to miss.

This natural disinclination to commit violence, even when survival ostensibly depends on it, speaks volumes about the true nature of humankind. It reflects a deep-seated bias towards life and community that challenges the notion of inherent human savagery. Recognizing this can help reshape our strategies and expectations in conflict resolution, emphasizing the importance of nurturing the innate human desire for peace and fellowship.

Rethinking Our Approach: Envisioning a Society Founded on Trust in Human Goodness

The evidence we've uncovered paints a picture of humanity far more harmonious than the bleak one we're accustomed to. It's time we revise our view: from the pessimistic assumption that humans are warlike and selfish to the recognition of our inherent inclinations for peace and altruism. Embracing this new perspective could pave the way toward reimagining a society where our systems and structures are built not on distrust and punishment, but on the belief in our shared humanity.

We need a new, more realistic view of humanity.

Consider the consequences of persisting with the old paradigm: societies rife with cynicism, where punitive measures are the norm, and rehabilitation a rare afterthought. The example of prisons in the United States is telling, with their grim conditions and staggeringly high recidivism rates. Is moral behavior truly fostered in such an environment, or are these institutions perpetuating a cycle of despair and delinquency?

Enter Halden Prison in Norway, which stands as a testament to a different ethos. Here, the environment is one of respect and rehabilitation, not mere retribution. Inmates live in conditions that cultivate their sense of dignity and responsibility, from cooking their own meals to engaging in leisure activities with officers who stand not as overseers, but as fellow human beings.

The results speak for themselves. When compared to the high recidivism rate in the United States, the dramatically lower figures among those released from more humane institutions like Norway's Bastøy Prison highlight a profound truth: treating individuals with humanity leads to better societal outcomes.

This shift is grounded in the philosophy that if we treat people as inherently responsible, they will rise to meet that expectation. It's a philosophy that has proven effective and cost-efficient, given the lower rates of reoffending.

Once we accept the premise that goodness is the norm rather than the exception, a world of possibilities opens up. We can begin to transform not only our penal systems but also other fundamental societal constructs such as businesses, educational institutions, and ultimately, governments. A society premised on faith in the goodness of its citizens could foster an environment where positivity and growth prevail.

By challenging our misgivings about human nature and actively cultivating a culture of trust and empowerment, we chart a course for a more cohesive, compassionate, and thriving society—a path well worth exploring for the benefit of all.

Embracing Our True Nature: A Journey Towards a Cooperative Human Identity

The essence of what we've explored overturns long-held misconceptions about who we are at heart. The narrative that has long dominated our understanding of human nature—depicting us as inherently selfish beings only kept in check by the shackles of civilization and the fear of retribution—is fundamentally flawed.

Our evolutionary history is not a tale of the survival of the most ruthless but rather of the most cooperative. The evidence is clear in the way we rally together in times of crisis and avoid violence even when it appears justifiable. Our intrinsic nature leans towards empathy, solidarity, and peaceful coexistence.

It's now crucial that we adopt a viewpoint that reflects this reality. Acknowledging our profoundly sociable and helpful tendencies allows us to let go of unnecessary skepticism and build a society grounded in mutual trust. By fostering positive perceptions of humanity, we can cultivate an environment where our natural predispositions for goodness can flourish.

In essence, we must step away from the shadow of cynicism that has cast doubt on our collective character for millennia and move towards the light of a new, more accurate self-understanding—one that recognizes our capacity for kindness, empathy, and cooperation as the foundational aspects of what it truly means to be human.