There is no ‘should’ in nature
How nature can inspire us not to think in conspiracies
Since the onset of the coronavirus epidemic, it strikes me that a lot of people that have affinity with conspiracies are looking for explanations because something ‘should’ be the matter. Bill Gates ‘should’ have alterior motives when he donates money for a vaccine. Governments ‘should’ have a master plan when they implement 5G. There ‘should’ be an explanation for why we are taught that the earth is round (okay, that has nothing to do with COVID, but it goes to show that this kind of thinking is significantly widespread). It’s always about a plan, or at least a driving force — one that often goes against the well-being of those that believe in it.
Apparently, it is hard for those people to accept that things are just what they are, or that there is no explanation (yet). I’d like to use this story to show that nature doesn’t do this ‘should’. There is no big plan, there are no conspiracies. Nature is competent without comprehension, it has designs without a designer.
Design without a designer
You could say that a bird has a good design, or is well-designed for flying. But that does not imply ‘intelligent design’; that design was not invented by anyone. And that is not necessary either. A design can be designed by someone, such as a building, but it doesn’t have to be. You can also talk about a design with birds because there is indeed a kind of blueprint. It is in the DNA. The genetic makeup determines what that bird will look like, and that all birds with that DNA look more or less the same. That DNA, that blueprint, was created through millions of cycles of variation, selection, and reproduction — evolution. Evolution results in a “design” that works because the designs that don’t work don’t make it. No higher power is needed at all.
Why does that seem different for us?
If you look at swifts flying, it’s a joy to behold. They are so fast, so agile and quick on the turn — it’s not surprising that we incorporated some of those capabilities in fighter jets.
But in contrast to the engineer creating a plane, the swift is extremely unaware of its competence. It can do all that, but not really understand why or how. It doesn’t think about fluid dynamics, because its body evolved together with its brain that has to deal with it — it just does it (you can also see it very well when pets must have limbs amputated; they quickly learn to deal and be functional with their new bodies, without a real understanding of the drastic changes they have just incurred). In other words:
It’s competence without comprehension.
Because these blueprints and behaviors arise over the course of many evolutionary cycles, there is no theoretical need for the animal to be conscious of them if, simultaneous to the development of the body, it’s brain is likewise developing the power and patterns to control these physical adaptations.
You only have to be conscious of all that when you want to copy the principles, like the engineer designing a plane.
And because we humans invent materials with some kind of causal intentionality — perhaps more acute than the use of our own bodies — we project this comprehension and sense of meaningful design to the things around us, which occur innocently through biological processes.
Can we design without a designer?
I found a nice human application of ‘designerlessness’ in Wageningen, Netherlands, where the university did not immediately pave the footpaths when constructing a new campus. They mowed the grass and watched people draw connections between different buildings. When it became clear which paths people liked to use they started laying pavements. And there you go: a beautiful campus with paths that are used and no ugly shortcuts worn out in the grass. And also: No real designer.
This is an important point for companies to understand as well. The market is always right, so it always uses your product in the right way — even if it is different from what you intended. If you feel that the customer does not understand you, then you have a problem, not them. IKEA has been smart enough to embrace this with “IKEA hacking,” the movement showcasing alternate uses of standard IKEA products.
But to say that IKEA hacking should exist, or that someone intentionally invented it, is just wrong. It just arose, just like the blueprint for a bird.
Why do we see conspiracies?
We humans are very good at finding and spotting patterns. Because of our need to comprehend, we see agency in the results of randomness. Unfortunately, we are not sufficiently self-critical to recognize when this tendency to attribute agency is misapplied and so tend to project this assumption.
Despite the formation of a super-rich elite — and from my other stories you can tell I’m not particularly excited about this fact — to say that that elite is the result of a masterplan conceived centuries ago is just wrong. It is not the Illuminati, it is neither the Kennedys nor the Rothschilds. It is not even the lizard-people.
Rich people throughout the ages have simply wanted the best for themselves, and our economy with its policies and tax breaks and politics allowed for the rest. As I have said in previous stories; I am convinced inheritance has done more for the growth of that elite than anything else — including evil master plans. But the elite? It has just materialized as a competent but — in a strict sense — uncomprehending result of our history.
Now, of course there have been and are instances where there have been influential people with malicious intent. But those are the exceptions, and rarely does it stay a secret. We should not be tempted to think that those stories, frightening and sensational as they may be, are the standard. Most patterns in society just arise as a result of circumstances, and we should be very wary of projecting any kind of agentic intent onto them. This is not easy: it is hard to accept, for example, that a virus can simply develop and make you or your loved ones sick, without it having a malicious desire to do so.
This is also not saying that we should not challenge these systems, but it does help to focus on the actual, real causal machinations at play.
Why it’s comforting to invent someone to blame
It is easier to accept adversity when we can connect an enemy to such an event, rather than randomness. Random unfortunate events make us feel insignificant and helpless.
“If only there was an enemy who wanted to do me harm, then that makes me more significant myself because it means I’m worthy of attracting that negative intention.”
But like I said; this is not how nature functions. Look at a cheetah grabbing an antilope. Does the cheetah hate the antilope? No. Does he have anything against that particular antilope? No. He’s hungry and has evolved to hunt them. He’s not questioning his own behavior, and thus impervious to anthropomorphic intent. Same goes for the antilope. The coronavirus, along with many other non-causal entities, is no different.
Master of your own universe
I do believe there is a way to find comfort in this meaninglessness. I do not ascribe to conspiracies, and I find my life essentially meaningless. The only thing I can do that makes it meaningful, biologically, is to create offspring. Everything else, from friendships to relationships, work to lived experiences, is meaningless.
But instead of feeling depressed by it, I find it liberating. Apparently, it does notmatter what I do! We are the only animals who can think and decide ourselves about the meaning that we want to give to our lives. I can be the master of my own universe! If I decide what is meaningful, then that becomes meaningful. As a bonus, it also gives me a sense of agency; I am not sensitive to thoughts that things are ‘being done to me’ by Bill Gates or anyone else. I can change my outlook and be flexible.
The price I pay is that I cannot blame outside factors for what is happening in my life. But to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Disclaimer: again, I’m well aware of the dynamics in our society that ensure that a lot of people are unable to live up to their potential. But, coming from a challenging background myself, and as hard as it may be, I truly believe it is liberating to feel and act like you can change things for yourself.
Accepting reality
I find animals inspiring in their acceptance of reality and the ‘can-do mentality’ that follows from it. For example, the Instagram account Nature is Metal often shows the most horrific scenes in nature. In the footage that they share, as well as in documentaries on TV, the same scene of a pride of lions overtaking a buffalo for a meal can be seen either with regard to the lions or with sympathy for the buffalo.
Often, the situation is something in the middle, and much more gruesome. A crocodile that manages to tear off the hind limb of a zebra while the rest of the zebra escapes (only for it to die slowly later). A hyena pulling the intestine out of a wildebeest like a piece of string while the wildebeest walks off — also a slow death sentence. It’s hard to watch, but I’m amazed at how ‘in the moment’ animals are in those situations. Their behavior is so directly connected to their survival that they can’t afford the luxury of thinking how things should be. The zebra escaping from the crocodile doesn’t point to the crocodile saying that it ruined its life and that it should have four legs. It realizes that with an adaptation in gait it can walk with three legs — even if it will be for a short while.
Conspiracies could be an indication of a spoiled outlook on life. It is only when you are comfortable enough that you can ponder these ideas that have little apparent basis in reality, emphasis what things ‘should’ be, over what they are.
The less we have to accept reality, the more entitled we feel. The more entitled we feel, the greater the chance that we feel that someone wants to do something to us, or owes something to us.
Final thought: as an atheist (or technically agnostic), I miss religion
I find it sad that less people are drawn to religion. Because what it offers is an external explanation for the adversity that people face and cannot control. With a real figure in the world — like Bill Gates, as an example — there is a physical entity to take objection to, a solution to come to, but not so with a god-figure. With a god, anger is pointless. This sense, in my opinion, nudges people to be more realistic about their role in the world.
I also think that this loss of an external ‘lightning rod’ for explanations of adverse events might be the reason conspiracies are more popular. Religious sentiment can serve to fill the void left by a sense of meaninglessness, and gives people an even indirect sense of control over what they experience. It helps people deal with problems in a way that might not damage their connection to reality. And as a bonus, it creates communities that transcend socioeconomic status.
Did you enjoy this? Check out more nature-inspired stories on my publication Today’s Aesop!
