The Origins of Humanity

A sense of perspective

Indulge me, if you will, in a brief respite from the political tidal waves convulsing our nation and the larger world. 

In times like these—even as we contend with the inundation of news (and even larger doses of commentary) about the precarious state of our democracy—we should also seek out knowledge that expands our perspectives and allows us to see ourselves and the nature of our planet through news lenses of thought and, hopefully, insight. 

This week, a trio of stories caught my attention. They broadened my horizons and filled me with wonder and hope. (What is it about the power of groupings of three?) 

The first was the most visual because it came with an image. But it was the headline in The Washington Post that sent me scurrying to find out more: “51,000-year-old cave painting may be earliest scene depicted through art.” 

What a remarkable statement and concept. 

The painting (above), though faded, is evocative on its own. It is of human figures and a pig. According to the article, the people of the Indonesian island where it was found “were ‘besotted’ with painting pigs.” We could imagine someone today, similarly besotted, setting paint or crayon to paper and producing something similar. It’s very human. 

But then we try to contend with a span of time that is impossible to fully comprehend. 51,000 years! What were these people like? What inspired them? Why pigs? What came before this artwork? What else remains to be discovered? We will never know the full meaning of this scene, but we can feel a deep connection and resonance with the human instinct to tell a story. 

People, and artists in particular, have always told stories (for tens of millennia, we now know). In addition to visual storytelling, one can also imagine the stories that might have been told around campfires. And later through words, music, and film. The means for storytelling are endless. The instinct is essential.

I have also found that scientists are also storytellers. They try to figure out the narrative of life, the planet, and the universe. What could be more inspiring? The more we learn, the more questions there are to ask, which is also an incredible realization.

Another headline, this one from CNN: “Denisovans were living on the Tibetan plateau surprisingly recently, scientists say.” This one rang a distant bell. I remembered that Denisovans were an archaic human species or subspecies that were only recently discovered using cutting-edge scientific techniques. The article explains:

Denisovans were first identified little more than a decade ago in a lab using DNA sequences extracted from a tiny fragment of finger bone. Since then, fewer than a dozen Denisovan fossils have been found worldwide.

Think about that. Another human species was unknown to science until a few years ago. But if that weren’t wild enough, Denisovan DNA (in these few bone samples) has come from Siberia, Tibet, and Laos, in southeast Asia, which suggests a wide geographic range. And there are modern clues as well. As the article elaborates:

Genetic analysis subsequently revealed that the Denisovans, like Neanderthals, had once interbred with modern humans. Traces of Denisovan DNA found in present-day people suggest the ancient species likely once lived across much of Asia.

What this latest study suggests is that Denisovans were living in Tibet relatively recently

The team of archaeologists working at the cave also uncovered a rib bone fragment in a layer of sediment that dates back between 48,000 and 32,000 years, making it the youngest of the handful of known Denisovan fossils — a clue that the species was around more recently than scientists previously thought.

That means Denisovans lived in Tibet thousands of years after humans painted a cave in Indonesia. Our perspectives on our past keep shifting. How confident are we about what the world looked like back then, or the story of our own species?

The third story I found the most emotional. The headline in The Guardian: “Fossil of Neanderthal child with Down’s syndrome hints at early humans’ compassion.” As the article explains:

A Neanderthal child with Down’s syndrome survived until at least the age of six, according to a new study whose findings hint at compassionate caregiving among the extinct, archaic human species.

Recent examination of a human fossil unearthed at the Cova Negra archaeological site in the Spanish province of Valencia found traits in the inner-ear anatomy which indicated Down syndrome, in the earliest-known evidence of the genetic condition.

The fossil, which preserves the complete inner-ear anatomy, was excavated in 1989 but its significance was not recognised until recently...

The scientists could not determine the gender of the child but named them Tina.

“The pathology which this individual suffered resulted in highly disabling symptoms, including, at the very least, complete deafness, severe vertigo attacks and an inability to maintain balance,” said Mercedes Conde-Valverde, a palaeoanthropologist at the University of Alcalá in Spain, lead author of the study, published in the journal Science Advances.

“Given these symptoms, it is highly unlikely that the mother alone could have provided all the necessary care while also attending to her own needs. Therefore, for Tina to have survived for at least six years, the group must have continuously assisted the mother, either by relieving her in the care of the child, helping with her daily tasks, or both,” Conde-Valverde added. 

So much about this fills me with wonder, starting with the idea of a species related to us that is often the butt of jokes for being less “advanced,” evidently showing great care and support to a disabled child. Then, there is the research itself. Scientists went back to look at a bone excavated decades ago for new clues. This is often how science works — challenging old assumptions, looking at previous data in a fresh light, and putting together disparate pieces of incomplete puzzles to gain new insights. 

At a time when we are so focused on news that can shift in an instant, when the future can seem bleak and foreboding, I found comfort in these three stories that pull from the distant past. The Earth exists on a scale that we can’t really understand. Our stories of where we come from and where we are going are largely unknowable. For all of our faults, we can appreciate that there are human instincts that are inspiring, like art and empathy (including, apparently, among Neanderthals). 

Sometimes, we need to pause, rethink what we think we know, and realize there is so much left to learn. New, ever-emerging horizons show the limits of our knowledge. I find these human journeys of discovery to be a rejuvenating source of hope.