City Living: Humanity Cons Itself Part 1: I Joined the Circus? Nope, It’s Called a City…The Human Z
Recently, my family moved temporarily to Washington D.C. from our permanent rural home in Minnesota. As someone who has spent most of her life on the move in third world countries, I didn't realize the extent to which I had become accustomed to living in uncrowded, open space without the lights and noises others enjoy living in the 'big city.' This latest move has disrupted the normalcy I associate with clear night skies, and pitch black darkness disturbed only by starlight. My ‘new normal’ appears to scare the stars away. Normal now is composed of bright street lamps and car headlights at all hours of the night. The familiar noises of urban living (i.e. car noise, police sirens, construction, fire alarms, car radios blaring at 4 AM…need I go on?) jolt me awake at night and rudely break my concentration during the day. I long for the return of summer winds rustling the leaves of the 30 foot trees surrounding our country homestead. Noise there is comprised of chirps, mews, or bleats. Am I homesick? Or, is there something fundamentally pushing me to wish for home that goes as deep as my DNA? There are some anthropologists who would argue homesickness has little to do with how I’m feeling. They argue that humans don’t belong in cities, and that the promulgation of ideas which encouraged the abandonment of our hunter-gatherer ways is the biggest con in human evolution. In short, they would argue my DNA is awake, my opinion of the city is warranted, and the biological imperative driving me to distraction is in fact a survival mechanism of which the Neanderthals should receive thanks.
In his book "The Human Zoo," noted writer Desmond Morris compares life in big cities to confinement in zoos. He believes that humans have not had enough time to biologically adapt from our former existence as hunter gatherers to city dwellers. Residing in densely-populated urban areas causes similar stress and behaviors that we observe in animals confined inside zoo cages. Humans, he argues, no longer live in their natural conditions when they reside in large cities. The zoo environment acts like a "gigantic parent" and protects the "inmates" by providing food, drink, shelter and medical care, among other comforts. The most basic survival challenges are minimized.
The reduction of the stress associated with meeting these basic survival problems are tremendously beneficial, but they also pose another challenge - what to do with all the spare time that we would otherwise have to spend fulfilling those survival needs. It is worth noting that he believes we are preprogrammed, according to him, to fulfill those survival needs and the absence of not doing what we are programmed to do is unnatural to our biological makeup.
For example, in open areas, humans have more space in which to engage in activities to stimulate our big brains. In addition to hunting and gathering, we are programmed to imagine and problem solve. In contrast, although technological advances and activities associated with city life provide a multitude of opportunities to stimulate our minds, the ability to act is dwarfed. Movement is no longer ‘walking,’ but riding. Worse yet, living in close proximity with large groups of people can cause stresses associated with zoo confinement. Captive animals, he writes, are observed to display many of the same abnormal behaviors found among humans today living in cities.
For myself, I didn’t see this coming until I got here. I had looked forward to my trip, excited with the prospects of big city life. The crowded streets, the museums, the architecture of buildings I would get to study inspired by the brilliant Romans—I couldn't wait to experience the change. I anticipated there were new sights and activities I wanted to be a part of. Unfortunately, my reintroduction to ‘civilization’ didn't go as planned. Since the first night, I don’t sleep well. Car lights and loud music late at night and into the early morning hours disturb me. In our country home, I can walk outside at any hour confident that I won't see an unfamiliar face when I open the door. In fact, since I raise goats, I shouldn’t see any faces that don’t belong to a goat face. It is not the case here.
When I descend the steps to the street in front of our D.C. home, I now immediately see many people that I do not know. They are everywhere, and their curious gaze lets me know I am equally unfamiliar to them. A quick look left, right, and straight is car traffic. I hear dogs barking constantly in the distance, but oddly no other animals. There is no ready food supply that resembles the raspberry bushes, apple trees, or grapes that I don’t wash before I eat in Minnesota. I can pick them right off of the tree there (assuming the bear didn’t get to them first).
Like the city, I have many choices of how to spend my spare time in our country home, and most of those activities have to get done each day. They are practical in nature. To do them, I can stay inside or go outside. Here, however, I feel more confined. In Washington D.C., there is constant car traffic, such that I feel uncomfortable having my little brothers and sisters come with me. I always have them come to the barn with me to help with the animals. The large number of human animals here makes me apprehensive, and I constantly ask myself if it is wise for a fourteen-year-old girl to walk alone even if it's just down the block to get milk and I have my cell phone. Maybe it is just me, but if the city is so great I shouldn't have to worry this much about personal safety. The constant police presence on our street block, as much as it should be comforting, only reinforces my opinion that city life isn't working out for humanity as much as we'd like to believe it.
Allow me to make my case just a little more...
Like the zoo animal who paces back and forth in its cage to simulate the natural urge to search for food, I frequently walk about the house and up and down the stairs for no reason other than to just move. The refrigerator is an interesting destination point, and I wonder if that holds true for other humans trapped in this D.C. zoo. Is that why heart disease, diabetes, and more is on the rise in America? Morris writes how captive animals will play with or "capture" their food, sometimes doing so multiple times in an effort to simulate what they must do to survive under normal conditions. Here, I've found myself drawn more to video games – according to my parents, an undesirable activity. I’ve responded it is necessary to simulate exploration, winning, and survival.
I am not arguing that we, as people, should give up on cities and return to our hunter-gatherer roots. For most of us, that would be a ridiculous change for many reasons. There is no denying the value of the creature comforts we enjoy daily like microwaves, fast food, and the results of great medical advancements. I am, however, struggling to adapt to the environmental changes here. For example, it has been hard for me to cope with the discomfort I feel stepping outside. One part of me feels that I should just embrace the difference and enjoy the stimulating experiences of the city. Then I step outside and can’t wait to get back inside and write, read or virtually play. And since I don’t think I’m special, I think most other people feel the same way…they just don’t know how badly they truly have been conned.
Next Month: Conning Humanity…Who Did It and How Did It All Go Down?
