Excerpts from Edward O. Wilson's book Naturalist


Re: The Self

The human mind moving in a sea of detail is compelled like a questing animal to orient by a relatively few decisive configurations. There is an optimum number of signals. Too few, and the person becomes compulsive-obsessive; too many and he turns schizophrenic. Configurations with the greatest emotional impact are stored first and persist longer. Those that give the greatest pleasure are sought on later occasions. The process is strongest in children, and to some extent it programs the trajectory of their lives. Eventually they will weave the decisive images into a narrative by which they explain to themselves and others the meanings of what has happened to them. As the Talmud says, we see things not as they are, but as we are.

Our remembered images are reinforced like pictures improved by one overlay upon the next, each adding finer detail. In the process edges are sharpened, content refined, emotional colors nuanced.


Re: Man's Preferences for Home

… Biophilia. It means the inborn affinity human beings have for other forms of life, an affiliation evoked, according to circumstance, by pleasure, or a sense of security, or awe, or even fascination blended with revulsion.

One basic manifestation of what I called biophilia is a preference for certain natural environments as place for habitation. In a pioneering study of the subject, Gordon Orians, a zoologist at the University of Washington, diagnosed the "ideal" habitat most people choose if given a free choice: they wish their home to perch atop a prominence, placed close to a lake, ocean, or other body of water, and surrounded by a parklike terrain. The trees they most want to see from their homes have spreading crowns, with numerous branches projecting from the trunk close to and horizontal with the ground, and furnished profusely with small or finely divided leaves. It happens that this archetype fits a tropical savanna of the kind prevailing in Africa, where humanity evolved for several millions of years. Primitive people living there are thought to have been most secure in open terrain, where the wide vista allowed them to search for food while watching for enemies. Possessing relatively frail bodies, early humans also needed cover for retreat, with trees to climb if pursued.

Is it just coincidence, this similarity between the ancient home of human beings and their modern habitat preference? Animals of all kinds, including the primates closest in ancestry to Homo sapiens, possess an inborn habitat selection on which their survival depends. It would seem strange if our ancestors were an exception, or if humanity's brief existence in agricultural and urban surroundings had erased the propensity from our genes. Consider a New York multimillionaire who, provided by wealth with a free choice of habitation, selects a penthouse overlooking Central Park, in sight of the lake if possible, and rims its terrace with potted shrubs. In a deeper sense than he perhaps understands, he is returning to his roots.


Re: Man's Common Phobias

Balaji Mundkur, an anthropologist and art historian at the University of Connecticut, has suggested a parallel explanation for another peculiarity of human taste: our fascination with snakes. These reptiles are among the features of mankind's ancient environment for which people can easily acquire phobias. Other strong phobia inducers are spiders, wolves, heights, closed spaces, and running water. Just one frightening experience with snakes— as mild as a scary story— is enough to instill the aversion in a child. The fear experienced thereafter is marked by the autonomic nervous system beyond ordinary rational control. The responses are quickly acquired, yet strangely difficult to eradicate.

The highly directed reaction against snakes appears to have a genetic foundation. In evidence is the remarkable fact that people rarely acquire phobias toward the objects of modern life that are truly dangerous, such as guns, knives, electric sockets, and speeding automobiles. Out species has not been exposed to these lethal agents long enough in evolutionary time to have acquired the predisposing genes that ensure automatic avoidance.


— Edward O. Wilson, in Naturalist. Biography, discussion of his growth as a scientist, Harvard Professor, winner of two Pulitzer prizes, champion of biodiversity