Humans have always wanted to separate themselves from the rest of the animal kingdom. We have hidden our animal nature for as long as we can remember. Even when it comes to religious beliefs, the mere suggestion that «we are just another animal» can be controversial. I do not intend to convince you whether we are just another species or a special creation. Personally, I believe this debate is often irrelevant. While I acknowledge the power of words, I also believe we should give them less power. The real focus should be on the concepts they encapsulate.
Whether humans see themselves as a special being or as just another species in a universe that, sooner or later, will be revealed as not so special, is, at least at this moment, unimportant to me. We face real challenges today—challenges that will not change based on whether we define ourselves as a mere animal or as a marvel of existence.
I bring this up because we have long tried to hide our animal nature, and one of the most defining traits used to separate us from other species is creativity. The ability to create something purely from our abstract thoughts and bring it into the external world—whether through words, carefully arranged strokes of color on a canvas to convey a message, or a carved stone designed to evoke an emotion in the observer, is remarkable.
The human brain is not just a machine for processing information to make survival decisions. While this is an essential function, many animals possess it as well. Perhaps we have a much greater processing capacity, but this alone does not make us unique. Creativity, on the other hand, at first glance, seems to be what truly defines us as human.
Through creativity, we combine our ability to express a message with our capacity for deep emotions, our ability to process complex information, and even our fine motor skills, culminating in a purely human creation. In tangible form, this is reflected in everything from Captain Starbuck’s adventures in Moby Dick to Starry Night by Van Gogh, and even the Eiffel Tower. In essence, creative work is the ultimate expression of everything that makes us human.
There are well-known self-experiments where painters create self-portraits while suffering from neurodegenerative diseases. As their illness progresses, they lose the ability to create. It is as if their humanity, or perhaps their very soul, is slowly fading away from their physical form.
It is fascinating to consider how creativity first emerged on Earth. It all began with the hominids that preceded humans on the evolutionary timeline. I won’t go too far back in time, but I will focus on those hominids who existed just before we became Homo sapiens. Their diet consisted largely of tough plant fibers and raw meat. Like most animals, the majority of their energy was spent on eating and digestion—just to obtain more energy. For most species, this is an endless and costly cycle. If you think about it, it’s like spending energy just to get more energy—an existence focused purely on self-sustenance.
But then, something extraordinary happened: we learned to manipulate fire.
Fire is an incredible and mystical force that has accompanied humanity throughout history. Many cultures have considered it sacred or even divine, and for good reason. Fire could hurt us, but it could also protect us from predators. If respected from a safe distance, it could shield us from the cold. It illuminated the darkness. But, most importantly for the topic of article: it allowed us to cook food.
What a monumental discovery!
Imagine: a piece of meat left near the fire, its color changing as if by magic—turning from raw to a rich brown. The smell drifting through the air, drawing attention from afar. The texture becoming softer, easier to chew, requiring less effort to break down the muscle fibers. What awe they must have felt!
After eating cooked meat for the first time, they must have noticed an incredible boost in energy. Unlike raw food, it didn’t leave them feeling sluggish after eating. That night, after their first taste of cooked meat, they dreamed more vividly. They woke up feeling strong, powerful—masters of their environment. They needed more of this.
They learned to control fire. In other words, they learned how to harness the energy stored within plant fibers—energy that, as we now know, is essentially sunlight captured through photosynthesis.
The Fire That Made Us Human
Every evolutionary change is incredibly costly in terms of energy. Any increase in muscle mass, body size, or metabolic function typically comes at a great expense. The brain is the most energy-demanding organ in nature. In humans, it consumes more energy than any other organ, which you can observe in all the shortcuts the brain takes to minimize its energy consumption.
These shortcuts are why you can brush your teeth on autopilot, why walking and running feel effortless, and why you sometimes drive through a red light without even remembering looking at it. You don’t consciously think about every movement, your brain optimizes energy usage by creating habits and reflexes.
But when early humans discovered fire and its immense energy potential, their bodies could now support larger, more advanced brains.
Why?
Because humans are not particularly fast or strong. We don’t have claws or the agility of a monkey. We’re not good at camouflage, nor do we have large, powerful fangs. Our natural weapon is our brain—our ability to understand and manipulate our environment to our advantage.
So, when we suddenly had access to more readily available energy, the logical evolutionary path for our species was to grow our brains. This topic is brilliantly explored by Richard Wrangham in Catching Fire.
Having an easier and more efficient way to obtain nutrients did not just allow for greater brain capacity—it also freed up time. Time that was once spent solely on hunting, foraging, and eating could now be used for something else.
And this is where creativity was born.
With our expanded ability to think, create, process information, transmit messages, and express emotions, the spark of creativity was ignited.
For the first time, we began to tell stories.
We started making artistic representations of emotions.
We looked up at the sky and wondered.
Before, we never had the time to look at the sky. Survival required us to keep our eyes fixed on prey or scanning the ground for food. Now, for the first time, we asked questions.
What are we?
Who are we?
Where do we come from?
In other words, the energy given to us by the Sun, hrough fire, made us human.
Deja un comentario