If Nietzsche Were a Narwhal summary

Why is the sky blue? Why can’t cats and dogs talk? Why are people mean to one another? If you spend enough time around a child who’s just learned to talk, you’re probably familiar with these kinds of why questions. But as we grow older, the questions may change but we don’t stop asking why.

As the author puts it, human beings are a why specialist species, and it’s one of the fundamental things that differentiates human animal thinking from nonhuman animal thinking. Our ability to ask and ponder these questions is generally seen as a positive thing. After all, it’s what makes philosophy, science, and the arts possible. So it must be a good thing, right? Well . . .

Interestingly enough, the great German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote about envying the cows in the field, who went about their day chomping grass and being completely unbothered by such existential questions as the meaning of life. Nietzsche had a good reason for envying the cows, too. The older he got, the more these why questions seemed to take a toll on his psyche. Eventually, he became catatonic and ended up in a mental asylum in Switzerland. Nietzsche isn’t alone, either. The awareness we have of our own mortality has led plenty of people into thoughts of nihilism, depression, hopelessness, and even suicidal despair.

And then there’s the problem of how we use the grand ideas that we come up with. For every invention, work of art, or philosophical breakthrough, there tends to be a devastating downside – the kind that only human beings could come up with.

For example, after Nietzsche died, his anti-Semitic sister began to alter and promote his work as a philosophical justification for what became the genocidal Nazi agenda. This, despite the fact that Nietzsche wrote about how he despised anti-Semitism.

Like asking existentially probing questions, using the ideas that come from such questions to justify mistreatment, killing, or genocide is a uniquely human thing – and a seemingly inevitable one. Time and time again, we’ve used religion, philosophy, and bogus science to justify the horrible things we’ve done to one another.

So let’s ask ourselves, What if Nietzsche were a narwhal? Sure, narwhals may be fascinating marine mammals, but they can’t write symphonies or send other narwhals to the moon, can they? And all research suggests that narwhals, or any other animal aside from humans, aren’t intellectually capable of contemplating their own mortality. But maybe that’s a good thing. Shouldn’t it be considered an advantage that a narwhal will never experience a life-threatening existential crisis?

If you’re not yet convinced, hang in there. In this Blink, we’ll look at how our evolution into being why question specialists goes hand-in-hand with being profoundly self-destructive.