Chapter 3: A Day in the Life of Adam and Eve

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Welcome to the Deep Dive.

Today, we're doing exactly what the name says, really.

We're taking a chapter you listener shared and while plunging into the lives of our hunter -gatherer ancestors.

Yeah, and this isn't just, you know, ancient history collecting dust.

No, not at all.

This huge chunk of time, we're talking tens of thousands of years, it fundamentally shaped who we are right now, today.

That's right.

For almost all of our species time on earth, sapiens were foragers.

Agriculture, industry, that's all pretty recent, relatively speaking.

A tiny blip, really.

So,

understanding that long foraging era is, well, it's key to getting a handle on so many things about us now, how we act, how we think, you know.

So, the big question for this Deep Dive, using this material, is what can we actually figure out about their day -to -day lives, their societies, their beliefs, maybe even their conflicts, you know, before farming changed everything.

And we should probably say up front, it's really tough piecing this together.

Super challenging.

Right, no written records.

Exactly.

We're talking way before writing.

So, the evidence is, well, it's patchy.

Mostly fossilized bones, some stone tools.

It means getting definite answers is often tricky, to say the least.

Okay, let's get into it then.

The chapter kicks off looking at the forager mindset using evolutionary psychology.

What's the core idea there?

Okay, so evolutionary psychology, basically, it looks at our behavior today and asks,

how might this trait have helped our ancestors survive and reproduce back when they were hunter -gatherers?

Makes sense.

And the central idea here is that those pressures from that incredibly long pre -farm era, they've shaped how our brains are wired, even now.

And there's a great example used to show this, the gorging gene.

Can you unpack that a bit?

Sure.

So, the theory goes like this.

Our ancestors on the savanna, they couldn't predict when they'd find food.

Right, feast or famine kind of thing.

Pretty much.

So, high calorie foods, like really ripe fruit or honey, they were gold dust.

Rare, but vital.

So, the best strategy, evolutionarily speaking, was to eat as much as you possibly could when you found a source like that.

Stuff yourself while you had the chance.

Exactly.

Gorge yourself.

And that instinct, especially for sweet fatty foods, it got hardwired into our genes, or so the theory goes.

Which connects directly to modern life, doesn't it?

Oh, absolutely.

Today, we're surrounded by readily available high calorie processed food all the time.

And that deep seated gorging gene,

well, it can push us towards overeating.

It helps explain maybe why obesity is such a big issue.

So, our biology hasn't quite caught up with the supermarket aisle.

You could put it that way.

Yeah.

So, for anyone listening, that urge for just one more biscuit, maybe blame your ancestors a little bit.

It's a really deep drive.

Okay.

Moving on, the chapter then gets into these debated theories about ancient social life.

It contrasts ancient commune idea with the eternal monogamy school.

Let's start with the ancient commune one.

What's that about?

Right.

The ancient commune idea suggests that maybe early foraging bands live very differently than, say, the typical nuclear family model we often assume.

It proposes life might have been more communal,

possibly without things like private property, strict lifelong monogamy, maybe even without fatherhood being defined quite like we do.

And what's the close relatives like chimps and bonobos?

Their social and sexual lives are often more

fluid.

Okay.

They also point to some human cultures today, like the Bori Indians mentioned in the chapter.

They have this idea of collective fatherhood.

They believe a child can benefit from having several fathers, you know.

Interesting.

So, the argument is maybe our basic biological setup isn't automatically geared towards just the nuclear family.

And how does this theory tie into modern issues like divorce rates or infidelity?

Well, the ancient commune folks might argue that a lot of the stress we see in modern relationships, you mentioned infidelity, high divorce rates, all the anxiety around partnerships.

Maybe it comes from forcing humans into this nuclear family monogamous box that might not be our sort of deepest evolutionary setting.

Okay.

So, that's one side.

What about the other camp, the eternal monogamy school?

Right.

So, this view pushes back hard.

It argues that actually, yes, monogamy and the nuclear family are core human things.

Even back then.

Even back then.

Yeah.

They'd probably concede ancient societies might have been more communal, more egalitarian maybe than many later ones.

But they still believe these groups were built around fairly stable couples and their kids.

And what's their evidence?

They often point to how common monogamous relationships and nuclear families are across so many cultures throughout recorded history.

It's the dominant pattern we see.

Exactly.

And they also bring up common human feelings like possessiveness about partners or children as maybe indicating this is an ingrained tendency.

Even things like inheriting status through the father's line in some societies gets used as evidence, suggesting that father -child link was recognized early on.

It definitely sounds like a real debate, but the chapter also says the evidence for either side is Oh,

absolutely.

It really stresses that.

The evidence is just, well, it's flimsy.

We don't have diaries from foragers.

And archaeology mostly gives us things that last bones and stones.

Which brings us to that point about the Stone Age being a bit of a misnomer.

Can you explain that?

Yeah, that's a great point.

We think Stone Age, but that's largely because stone tools survive.

The chapter argues most tools were probably made of wood, bamboo, maybe leather stuff that just away over thousands of years.

So stone is overrepresented in what we find.

Totally.

So maybe it wasn't really the Stone Age, but more like the Wood Age.

It changes how you picture it, doesn't it?

It wasn't just about not having metal.

It was about all these other materials we just don't see anymore.

Yeah, that does shift the perspective.

The chapter also draws a contrast between the material possessions of forgers and us today in affluent societies.

What's the main point there?

It's a massive contrast.

Think about how much stuff people accumulate now.

Cars, houses, gadgets, clothes, just endless disposable things.

Foragers were always on the move.

They had to travel light, super light, only the absolute essentials.

No moving vans, not even pack animals back then for most of it.

So what's the takeaway from that?

The key thing is that for millennia, our mental lives, our spiritual lives, they were much less tied to physical objects.

We've gotten so used to possessions sort of defining us, supporting our beliefs, our experiences.

But for foragers, that stuff was mostly internal or communal.

So their minimal material culture tells us.

It strongly suggests, I think, that a bigger part of their inner world, their religion, their emotions happened without needing a lot of physical props.

Think about all the objects tied to religion today.

Foragers likely had a more direct, less object -heavy spiritual life, which makes it incredibly hard for us to reconstruct based on just the artifacts we dig up.

And then the chapter warns us about using modern forager groups as perfect models for ancient ones.

What are the main problems there?

Yes, several big issues.

First, all modern forager groups have had contact with and been influenced by farming or industrial societies nearby.

So they're not pristine examples.

Exactly.

It's risky to just assume they're living exactly like ancient foragers who were in a totally different global situation.

And the places they live today are different too, aren't they?

Right.

Most surviving forager groups are in pretty marginal environments.

Deserts like the Kalahari, Arctic regions, places not great for farming.

So they're adapted to extreme conditions.

Yes.

And societies adapted to those extremes might not look like ancient groups who lived in, say, footle river valleys.

Just the difference in population density would change things massively.

Plus, there's huge variety even among modern foragers themselves.

Huge variety.

The chapter mentions Aboriginal Australians when Europeans first arrived.

Different tribes, sometimes living close by, had totally different languages, beliefs, customs, family rules.

It suggests ancient foragers were likely just as diverse, maybe even more so.

Which connects back to the cognitive revolution, right?

That ability to create different realities.

Precisely.

That revolution, maybe 70 ,000 years ago, gave Sapiens new ways to think, communicate, and crucially believe in shared fictions, myths, gods, social rules.

Imagined realities.

Exactly.

And that capacity for shared imagination allowed all this incredible cultural diversity.

So even if you had two bands living near, say, where Oxford and Cambridge are now, in similar environments, they could have developed totally different ways of life just based on the stories they told themselves.

So the big takeaway is there wasn't one single natural way for Sapiens to live after the cognitive revolution.

That's the key point.

No single natural way.

Instead, there was this huge range of cultural choices open to them.

So arguing about the natural human society kind of misses the point about our unique ability to create our own rules through culture.

Okay, let's shift gears slightly.

The chapter brings up this idea of the original affluent society.

Having looked at the mindset and social structures, what might daily life have actually been like?

This sounds intriguing.

Yeah, it is intriguing.

So despite all that diversity we just talked about, some general things seem likely.

Most people lived in small bands, maybe a few dozen, up to a couple hundred folks.

All humans.

All humans.

Except for one very important companion,

the dog.

Ah, man's best friend even back then.

Tell us about dog domestication.

Well, the dog was the very first animal Sapiens domesticated way before farming, maybe 15 ,000 years ago, possibly even earlier.

Wow.

What did they use them for?

Hunting, fighting,

acting as guard dogs basically.

An early alarm system.

And over time, humans and dogs co -evolved, learning to communicate, forming this really deep bond.

You mentioned burials.

Yeah, there's archaeological evidence of dogs being buried with ceremonies, sometimes alongside humans.

It suggests a real depth of relationship right from the start.

Pretty amazing.

So back to the human bands.

What was the social vibe like inside the group?

Probably incredibly intimate.

You know everyone really well.

Always surrounded by friends, relatives.

Things like loneliness or the kind of privacy many of us crave today were probably quite rare.

And how did different bands get along all holding hands?

Probably not always.

There was a likely competition for resources, maybe conflict sometimes.

But they also cooperated, exchanging members between bands, hunting together, trading special items, shells, pigments, that kind of thing.

Forming alliances, having joint festivals.

That cooperation was a huge Sapiens advantage.

And sometimes these cooperating bands formed a larger tribe?

Yes, they could form a tribe.

Sharing maybe a language, myths, general rules.

But it's important to remember the band was still the main unit.

So they weren't constantly interacting with other bands?

No.

The chapter makes that clear.

Most of the time, bands were on their own.

Trade in daily necessities was probably limited.

One band's survival didn't usually hinge on another's.

Tribal connections were more sporadic.

You might go months without seeing anyone from your own small group.

Most people probably knew only a few hundred other individuals in their entire lives.

The world was sparsely populated.

And this nomadic life, moving around, was how humans spread across the planet?

Pretty much.

That constant movement, following seasons, animal herds, plant cycles,

combined with bands occasionally splitting up or wandering into new territory that was the engine driving our global expansion.

A band splitting fairly often, moving just a short distance each time, could explain spreading from East Africa to China over thousands of years.

But there were exceptions to pure nomadism.

You mentioned permanent settlements.

Right.

In areas really rich with resources, especially coasts with lots of fish and seafood, people could settle down more.

Fishing villages?

Yes.

Seasonal or maybe even permanent fishing villages.

These were likely the very first settlements, appearing way before farming maybe 45 ,000 years ago in places like Indonesia.

It's possible these coastal bases were even springboards for epic journeys, like the one to Australia.

Okay, let's talk food.

How did they eat?

What was the diet like?

Highly flexible.

Opportunistic.

It really depended on where they were and what time of year it was.

So a bit of everything?

Pretty much.

Termites, berries, nuts, roots, rabbits,

bison, even mammoths, if they could get them.

But despite the image of man the hunter, gathering plants, nuts, insects and smaller things was probably the main source of calories and materials.

And it wasn't just foraging for food, right?

There was knowledge involved.

Oh, absolutely.

They were also foraging for knowledge.

Survival depended on knowing their territory intimately.

Like having a mental map.

A detailed mental map, yeah.

Understanding plant cycles, animal behavior, which plants were medicine, reading the seasons, knowing where water sources were, everything.

Sounds like they needed a huge range of skills.

Totally.

Every person needed to know how to make tools, fix shelters or clothes, track animals, identify plants, deal with dangers.

The average forager likely had a much broader, deeper, more varied knowledge of their immediate world than most people today.

Compared to us being so specialized.

Exactly.

We rely on this vast network of other specialists.

They had to be generalists, masters of their own environment.

The chapter even has that provocative phrase, niches for imbeciles, related to this specialization.

It's a bit harsh, but the idea is that once farming in cities came along, you could survive by knowing just one thing really well, relying on others for everything else.

This created niches where maybe individuals with less broad knowledge could still thrive.

The chapter even notes our average brain size might have decreased since the foraging era.

Wow.

And physically, how do they compare to us?

Their lifestyle demanded constant, varied physical exertion.

So they were incredibly sit.

Agile, strong, dexterous.

Like endurance athletes?

Yeah, probably like marathon runners in terms of endurance, but also with skills like climbing, sneaking, throwing.

They had heightened senses too, noticing subtle things in their environment.

Their bodies were finely tuned instruments for survival.

So this leads back to that original affluent society idea.

Why affluent?

Well, the argument based partly on studies of modern foragers in tough places like the Kalahari is that they might have worked surprisingly few hours to get what they needed.

Less than us.

Maybe around 35, 45 hours a week in the Kalahari.

Ancient foragers in richer environments might have needed even less time for food and basics.

Plus fewer household chores, no endless cleaning, laundry, mortgages.

It's counterintuitive, isn't it?

We picture constant struggle.

We do,

but the evidence suggests maybe in terms of sheer work hours, they had more leisure time than many people in agricultural or even industrial societies.

Can you give us that contrast with a modern worker?

Okay.

Picture maybe a modern factory worker doing the same repetitive task all day, then coming home to chores.

Contrast that with a forager's day, maybe some gathering, tracking an animal, fixing a tool, and lots of time for socializing, telling stories, playing with kids, relaxing, more variety, potentially more engaging, even with the dangers.

And their diet played into this affluence too.

Definitely.

That very diet was incredibly nutritious.

Our bodies evolved on that kind of food for hundreds of thousands of years.

Healthier than early farmers.

Fossil evidence suggests they were often taller and healthier.

Early farmers often relied on just one or two staple crops like wheat or rice, which could lead to nutritional deficiencies.

Foragers were also less vulnerable to famine if one food source failed, they had others to fall back on.

And what about diseases?

Less sickness?

Generally, yes.

Fewer infectious diseases.

Most major epidemics, like smallpox or measles, actually jumped humans from domesticated farm animals, which foragers didn't have apart from dogs.

And their lifestyle helped.

Yeah.

Living in small mobile groups prevented diseases from spreading like wildfire, which could happen later in crowded permanent villages.

Okay.

But the chapter doesn't just paint a rosy picture.

It warns against romanticizing.

What were the downsides?

Absolutely.

Life could still be very harsh.

There were definitely times of hunger, scarcity,

child mortality was tragically high.

And accidents?

Accidents that are minor for us today.

A broken bone, a bad infection could easily be fatal.

And social life wasn't always easy.

Being on the outs with your band could be devastating.

The examples from the Ashe people in Paraguay are quite stark, aren't they?

They really are.

They illustrate the harsher side.

Until fairly recently, the Ashe practiced things that shock us now.

Like what?

Things like sometimes killing a young girl if a valued member of the band died.

Abandoning the old or sick if they couldn't keep up.

Even killing babies or small children who were unwanted for various reasons, maybe seen as weak or just because.

It's tough to hear.

A real reminder not to oversimplify or idealize?

Exactly.

The chapter stresses that we shouldn't judge too quickly from our modern viewpoint without understanding the context, the pressures they faced.

The Ashe's harshness, for instance, might have been amplified by their constant violent conflict with encroaching farmers.

These were complex human societies, neither angels nor demons.

Right.

Which brings us to the talking ghosts section, trying to understand their spiritual and mental worlds.

This is even harder, the chapter says.

Why?

Well, you can sort of estimate economic stuff, calorie needs, time spent foraging.

But beliefs, feelings, spirituality,

that's much harder to pin down from just bones and tools.

We lack that direct window.

Animism is suggested as a common belief system.

Can you explain what that is?

Sure.

Animism comes from the Latin for soul or spirit.

It's basically the belief that the world is full of persons, only some of whom are human.

Meaning?

Meaning that rocks, trees, rivers, animals, the wind, the sun, pretty much anything, could be seen as having awareness, feelings, intentions, and the ability to communicate with humans.

So a very different way of seeing the world, like everything is alive and aware?

Sort of, yeah.

Imagine thinking you could talk to that mountain or that a particular river has feelings or that an animal spirit could help or hinder you.

It's a world populated by spirits and conscious entities, not just inert matter.

And how would communication work in that kind of world?

It was likely seen as direct.

Talking, singing, dancing, ceremonies, ways to interact with these local spirits.

Not usually about praying to distant, all -powerful gods, but negotiating with the specific spirits of the place.

The animals, the weather.

A hunter might talk to the spirit of the deer he's tracking.

Exactly.

Or a healer might try to communicate with the spirit causing an illness.

It's very localized and relational.

The chapter also says animism often lacks a strict hierarchy, unlike later religions.

Right.

In many animist views, humans aren't necessarily at the top of some pyramid.

Non -human beings aren't just there for human use.

There isn't usually one big boss god running everything.

The world isn't necessarily human -centered.

But it's important to remember, animism isn't one single religion.

Right.

Crucial point.

Yeah.

Animism is a huge umbrella term, like theism.

It covers thousands of different specific beliefs, rituals, cults.

So saying ancient forges were probably animist tells us something general, but not the details, which must have varied enormously between bands.

So when we look at things like cave paintings, we have to be careful.

Extremely careful.

Those amazing paintings, like a Lascaux, are fascinating.

But what did they mean to the people who made them?

We can guess, but it's highly speculative.

Sometimes our interpretations say more about us than about them.

We have to admit how little we truly know about their inner world.

And this uncertainty extends to their social and political lives, too.

Even basic things.

Yes, as we touched on with the commune versus monogamy debate.

Scholars still argue about fundamentals like private property or family structures.

It's very likely different bands did things differently.

Some might have been hierarchical, others more egalitarian.

But there's that site in Russia, Sengir, that offers some tantalizing clues about complexity.

Ah yes, Sengir.

It's about 30 ,000 years old.

Really remarkable burials were found there.

What was so special?

Well, it was an adult male, buried covered in thousands of painstakingly carved ivory beads.

Bracelets made of fox teeth, suggesting high status.

But even more amazing were two children buried nearby.

What about them?

They were buried head to head, adorned with even more ivory beads.

Thousands upon thousands plus belts of fox teeth, ivory spears, carved discs.

Making all that stuff would have taken an incredible amount of time and skill.

Thousands of hours, easily.

Wow.

So these children must have been incredibly important.

Why?

We don't know for sure.

Maybe they inherited status from important parents.

Or maybe they were seen as special in some other way, perhaps believed to be reincarnations and spirits.

Some even speculate about ritual sacrifice.

But whatever the reason.

Whatever the reason.

Sengir shows that 30 ,000 years ago, sapiens weren't just living by basic biology.

They had complex social rules, hierarchies, beliefs,

sociopolitical codes, far beyond simple survival needs.

Finally, the chapter tackles the big question.

Peace or war?

Were foragers peaceful hippies or savage warriors?

Yeah, it addresses that debate.

Were they living in some kind of peaceful Eden?

Or was life just constant brutal violence?

The chapter argues both extremes are probably wrong and based on shaky evidence.

What's wrong with the evidence for modern foragers on this?

Well, as we said, modern groups often live in remote areas, low populations, and crucially under the authority of modern states, which usually suppress large scale warfare.

So they can't just go raiding their neighbors like they might have done.

Exactly.

Historical accounts from places like 19th century North America or Australia do show lots of conflict.

But we don't know if that was typical for the deep past or if it was maybe exacerbated by colonialism and pressure from settlers.

And the archaeological evidence for ancient war is also tricky.

Very tricky.

We don't find massive fortifications or arsenals from that era.

A spear point could be for hunting or fighting.

A broken bone could be from a fall, not a battle.

And most war deaths weren't direct combat.

Right.

In pre -industrial warfare, starvation and disease following conflict often killed more people than weapons did.

And those things are really hard to see in the archaeological record centuries later.

Still, despite the difficulties, what does the archaeology suggest about violence levels?

It's mixed.

Some studies looking at skeletons from places like pre -farming Portugal and Israel found very little evidence of violence.

Suggesting peace.

Suggesting relative peace in those specific times and places, maybe.

But another study from the Danube Valley in Europe found much higher rates, maybe 4 .5 percent of deaths due to violence, which is surprisingly high, comparable to the violent 20th century.

Wow.

And there are specific sites.

Yeah.

De Bol Sahaba in Sudan, dated well before agriculture, had a cemetery where something like 40 percent of the skeletons showed signs of violence, like embedded arrowheads.

40 percent.

And often at Cays and Bavaria had evidence of a massacre.

So no simple answer then.

Peace or war?

Seems not.

The conclusion is that violence levels probably varied a lot, just like their beliefs and social structures.

Sometimes the places were likely quite peaceful.

Others saw intense conflict.

There wasn't one single state of being.

OK, the last section is called the curtain of silence.

What's the main idea here?

It's really about humility, I think, emphasizing how much we just don't know and probably can't about the specifics of life back then.

Like specific events.

Exactly.

Think about huge potential dramas.

The first Sapiens meeting Neanderthals, maybe great migrations, discoveries, wars, religious movements, all those specific stories, the texture of their history, it's mostly lost behind this curtain of silence.

So even with all the science, there are huge gaps.

Massive gaps.

We can figure out bits about anatomy, tools, diet, maybe guess at social structures.

But the specifics.

Political deals between bands.

What hymns did they sing?

Who were their heroes?

What tragedies did they endure?

We'll likely never know.

It's kind of mind boggling to think about all that lost history.

It really is.

There could have been entire philosophies, artistic movements, revolutions that shaped their world profoundly, but left no trace we can decipher.

But the chapter says it's still important to ask the questions even if we can't answer them.

Yes, because asking keeps us from just dismissing this vast stretch of human existence as unimportant or unknowable.

Foragers weren't just passively waiting for farming.

They actively shaped their world, changed ecosystems, spread across the planet, and laid the foundations for everything that came after.

Their legacy is all around us, even in landscapes we think of as wild.

So the key takeaway from this whole deep dive seems to be the sheer depth and complexity of hunter -gatherer history and how much it still echoes in us today.

Absolutely.

Understanding that long era gives us vital context for our present, our bodies, our minds, our societies, maybe even some of our problems.

It definitely makes you reconsider things.

How might seeing ourselves through that forager lens change how we view modern life or our own instincts?

Maybe prompt some reading into evolutionary psychology or learning more about modern foragers.

For sure.

There's so much more to explore.

And it leaves us with a final thought maybe for everyone listening.

What stories, what beliefs, what artifacts of our time, things that feel so solid and real to us right now, might be completely baffling or invisible to historians thousands of years from now.

Hmm.

Like our digital lives, maybe?

Could be.

Just like the specifics of forager spirituality are mostly lost to us.

It's a good reminder of how cultures shift and how much gets swallowed by that curtain of silence.

A really fascinating thought to end on.

Thanks for joining me for this deep dive into the world of our ancestors.