What you want the most is the hardest to find

Why is it hard for so many people to control their appetites? I came across an interesting theory, proposing that it's the result of natural selection.[1] What we want the most, the theory goes, is what's hardest to find. Those earlier hominids that went for the big calories and rare nutrients like fats and salts instead of low-cal, common veggies when they had the chance, were more likely to live to fight another day, and also have sex later, and pass those proclivities on to the next generation. So when you're looking through the pantry, an ancient voice in the back of your brain, passed down through the long eons before the rise of Nabisco, whispers, There will always be broccoli, but this may be the last Oreo you ever see… The traits we want the most in ourselves are the hardest to find.

The same, I think, is true of empathy, and calm, and many other things: what we want the most is the hardest to find – in ourselves and in others, too.

I was reminded of this recently. Someone I know seemed to be working really hard to pick a fight with me, and it pissed me off enough that I was just about to give it to him.

My friend Benton kicked my butt about it. "What do you think he's going through?" he demanded.

Yes. Right. Like I said, empathy is hardest to find when you need to find it the most. And failing that, mellowness.

This is one of the realizations that spills over the side when someone practices meditation.

One sultry night in Bangkok many years ago, just before the turn of the millennium, I was hanging out with the sister of a friend of mine, and his young nephew. My friend – let's not mince words here – couldn't be trusted. Still, she kept him on at her shop, selling trinkets and little statues at the market down by the Jao Praya River.

"He steals from me," she told me.

"Then why is he still working for you?"

 

Notes:

[1] This comes from a secondary source I taught in my days at UCSD, a book called Human Natures: Genes, Cultures, and the Human Prospect, by Paul Ehrlich (published Penguin Books in 2002), p. 287.