Rediscovering Humanity in an Age of Data Overload
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Chapter 1: The Human Experience Beyond Numbers
Have you ever felt as if you’re reduced to mere statistics? If numbers didn’t exist, how would you narrate your life?
Yesterday, I received an email promoting a $75 Bluetooth water bottle that claims to measure the water’s mass and sync with an app to monitor your thirst and drinking habits. While it sounds extravagant, it mirrors the plethora of personal data we now constantly track. Beyond traditional identifiers like addresses and phone numbers, we meticulously log our steps, weight, food intake, social media interactions, sleep patterns, spending habits, and even our grammatical errors—thanks to tools like Grammarly.
Every activity—whether shopping, watching a movie, or even engaging in political activism—generates data for various organizations eager to capitalize on our choices. A friend working in cybersecurity once told me that if I used a brand-new computer without entering any personal details, his company could pinpoint my identity in under five minutes based solely on my browsing habits.
Can that really be true? I guess my frequent visits to Rare Breed Chicken websites might give me away.
Amidst this data saturation, life can feel less tangible, more like a series of graphs and charts.
Take a moment to ponder time.
Recently, while teaching my high school biology class about evolution, I presented a geological timeline illustrating the extensive history of life on Earth. You can explore it yourself below, but essentially, it reveals that life has been thriving on our planet for an astonishingly long time.
As humans, we are relatively newcomers. While single-celled organisms, fish, and plants have been evolving for millions—if not billions—of years, our species has only existed for a few hundred thousand years.
When discussing this with my students, it’s easy to spiral into negativity, reflecting on the damage we’ve inflicted on our planet in such a brief span. Yet, it’s important to remember that for billions of years, life has continued to adapt and thrive. But then came us, disrupting the natural order by polluting water sources, altering the atmosphere, and contributing to climate change.
Despite these challenges, I like to think of humanity as an inherently optimistic species. We utilize our intellect to anticipate the future, and for the most part, that anticipation fuels our desire to persevere.
Rather than dwelling on our mistakes, I encourage my students to contemplate the essence of being human. This isn’t about selecting an avatar or a profile picture; it’s about delving into the core of our existence—what does it truly mean to be human?
I often say we are merely temporary stewards of our atoms. The carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen that constitute our cells have been part of countless other beings—perhaps a dinosaur’s claw or a fish’s eye. In time, our atoms will transform into something entirely different.
For now, these atoms belong to us, and we have the power to choose how we utilize them during our fleeting existence on this planet.
Reflecting on life in such expansive terms leads us to consider Ardi.
Understanding Ardi: A Glimpse into Our Past
Ardi, short for Ardipithecus ramidus, is a fossil discovered in Ethiopia in 1994. Her remains illustrate a fascinating blend of early chimpanzee and early human traits, dating back approximately 4.5 million years.
Ardi’s significance lies in her representation of the initial evolutionary step from arboreal primates to the terrestrial humans we are today. While her ancestors were adept climbers, her bowl-shaped pelvis indicates she could also walk on two legs.
The shift from quadrupedalism to bipedalism symbolizes freedom. Walking upright liberates our arms and hands for various tasks, allowing us to carry our offspring or manipulate tools. Standing tall also grants us a broader perspective of our surroundings, helping us locate food or evade danger.
I find inspiration in Ardi; her tentative steps out of the jungle mark the dawn of humanity. Over the millions of years that followed, evolution relentlessly shaped our ancestors to resemble modern humans more closely.
It wasn’t until relatively recently—just a couple of hundred thousand years ago—that our ancestors began to exhibit the traits and behaviors we recognize today. While they lacked modern conveniences like smartphones and manicures, they formed communities, collaborated, and built shelters. I imagine they cherished their families, argued over trivial matters, and occasionally enjoyed leisurely mornings instead of rushing out for a mammoth hunt.
Despite the hardships early humans faced, including hunger and harsh conditions, I believe they experienced a profound existence. Imagine erasing 95% of human advancements from our collective history. Start by eliminating cell phones and the internet—many remember life before the year 2000. Then remove plastics, electricity, machinery, literature, textiles, agriculture, livestock, plumbing, and medicine.
What remains?
In those primal days, your best option was to strike rocks together to create sharp tools. If fortunate, you could spark a fire—your source for warmth and cooking.
Ultimately, that’s what we all desire at our core—sustenance and comfort.
As we stand in 2021, we remain unaware of what the next four million years will unveil. Perhaps you’ll become a fossil that tells the story of humanity. What will your legacy convey?
I doubt Ardi spent her days worrying about how future generations would perceive her.
Instead, I pose the same question to my students: What does it mean to be human?
Is it about possessing superior data or crafting an ideal digital persona? Is it about curating the perfect aesthetic for your living space?
I certainly don’t have the answers. Yet, these reflections can occupy your mind while waiting for someone to unmute their microphone during a Zoom call.
Life can be chaotic and challenging; it has always been this way. Despite our advancements, we still haven't made life feel effortless. If it hasn’t changed in millions of years, it likely won’t change now.
Still, we strive. We endeavor to simplify our lives through governance, agriculture, and conflict. We invent gadgets, collect data, and fixate on screens.
Sometimes it works—like enjoying a Netflix binge in the evening. Yet, it can also backfire. Monitoring my sleep initially caused stress rather than improvement.
With that in mind, consider Ardi and her contemporaries. Reflect on the human experience in its most elemental form. Strip away the comforts we often take for granted. While it may be daunting to envision a world devoid of modern luxuries, it’s equally exhilarating.
Recreating Ardi’s experience on Earth is nearly impossible, but we can still find ways to disconnect from the relentless barrage of data and reconnect with our humanity. Here are some suggestions:
- Take a Walk: Feel the ground beneath your feet and observe your body’s alignment. Appreciate the scenery around you.
- Gaze at the Stars: No need for a telescope or app—simply look up. While you and Ardi may never share the same time or space, you can share the same celestial view.
- Embrace Inclement Weather: You’re resilient. Surviving discomfort—be it heat, rain, or cold—can invigorate your spirit.
- Exert Yourself Physically: A workout is fine, but nothing compares to the exhaustion from a day spent clearing land or moving stones. Ardi didn’t count her steps, and neither do you need to.
- Lay on the Earth: Find a patch of dirt or a rock. Beneath the surface lies layers of ancient life.
If you choose to engage in these activities, resist the urge to document or share them. Some experiences are best left unquantified.
Chapter 2: Reflecting on Our Connection with Ardi
This video, "This One Study Will Change How You Think About Your Entire Life," delves into the profound implications of our data-driven existence and how it shapes our understanding of humanity.
In "How to Build Willpower," David Goggins and Dr. Andrew Huberman discuss the mental resilience necessary to navigate the complexities of modern life.