The diminishing motivation to survive - it's the malaise of modern man. So we fill our lives with projects and deadlines and performance assessments in bland offices, wondering why our spirits are slowly dying every day on that bus into work. How can they not help but die, when we were designed to be living on the edge every day: hiding from bears and boars; killing lions to prove our manhood; climbing up trees for a vantage point from whence to view our advancing tribal enemies. Our survival instincts are slowly diminishing. We're a species in crisis. We are the first species in crisis, in a strange no-man's land of living in a body full of instincts hewn over millenia, but existing in a society where those instincts seem hardly relevant at all. But they're there, simmering under the surface, causing conflict, waiting to boil over. Natural selection had better hurry up.
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