Evolution

I was watching a sunset last week and realized something odd. There’s no evolutionary reason I should find it beautiful. It doesn’t help me survive. It doesn’t help me reproduce. A sunset is just light hitting dust particles in the atmosphere. My ancestors who stopped to admire pretty skies probably got eaten more often than the ones who kept their eyes on the ground looking for food or predators. Yet here I am, phone out, trying to capture something I find genuinely moving....

Your moral intuitions feel rock-solid. Someone cuts in line and you’re genuinely angry. Someone helps a stranger and you’re genuinely moved. But here’s the thing: those feelings evolved when humans lived in groups of maybe 150 people. Everyone knew everyone. Reputation mattered because you’d see the same faces for decades. Cheating your neighbor meant cheating someone who might refuse to share food during the next drought. Being generous meant building relationships that could save your life....