Next Chapter: Are Humans Meant to Survive—or to Evolve?

In the quiet pages of Charles Darwin’s 1836 notebook, a chilling observation appears. While standing on Australian soil, watching the interaction between white settlers and Indigenous people, he wrote:

“…the thoughtless aboriginal, blinded by these trifling advantages is delighted at the approach of the white man, who seems predestined to inherit the country of his children.”

Darwin was not recording a policy or a crime. He was observing what he believed to be a biological inevitability. To him, displacement appeared almost prewritten—predestined. The “fitter” power arriving to take its place.

Nearly two centuries later, as we watch the devastation unfold in places like Ukraine, we are forced to ask an uncomfortable question:


Have we evolved at all, or are we still trapped inside a 19th-century understanding of “survival of the fittest”?

The Misuse of “Fitness”

Darwin arrived at his conclusions through observation—through nature, through ecosystems, through the cycle of life. In the natural world, the “fittest” is not always the strongest or the most aggressive, but the most adaptable.

Somewhere along the way, humans distorted this idea.

We took a descriptive theory and turned it into a moral justification.

In the hands of modern political power, “fitness” has come to mean dominance. Resources, weapons, endurance—who can last the longest, who can impose their will most effectively. When a country uses its immense power to crush another, this is not evolution. It is a choice.

And we are choosing it repeatedly.

We funnel billions into warfare while healthcare systems crumble, food shortages persist, and entire populations live in precarity. We are choosing to be fit for war rather than fit for life.

The Modern Jungle: Social Darwinism in Disguise

The predestination Darwin observed did not disappear. It simply changed locations.

Today, it lives in boardrooms instead of battlefields.

We’ve sanitised the language of conquest. We talk about “hostile takeovers,” “crushing the competition,” “winning markets.” This is Social Darwinism dressed in professional attire—the belief that for one person, company, or country to succeed, another must lose.

Success becomes vertical rather than expansive. Measured by height, not depth. By how far we stand above others, not by how much value we create.

When we normalise pulling others down as “just business,” we are not evolving—we are reenacting the same logic Darwin recorded in 1836, only now with better technology and higher stakes.

The False Necessity of War

There is a familiar argument that war is necessary—that conflict creates momentum, forces innovation, and drives progress. History does show that wars accelerate technological development. But empowerment at what cost?

Lives are lost on both sides—human lives that mean very little to the people dictating warfare from a distance. Political power struggles have been reduced to contests of endurance. This war is not serving the people of Ukraine. Whatever the outcome, it will simply reflect who stayed “strong” the longest.

Strength has been confused with suffering.

A Biological Detour

There is something else that keeps bothering me.

Humans are not biologically designed to live in a constant state of survival.

Yes, we can survive. We are resilient, adaptive, astonishingly capable. But survival was meant to be temporary—a response to immediate danger, not a permanent operating system. The human nervous system is built to return to safety, connection, creativity, and rest once the threat has passed.

Chronic survival does not make us stronger. It makes us reactive. Fearful. Tribal. It shuts down empathy and narrows perception. Neuroscience shows this clearly. Prolonged fight-or-flight degrades the very capacities that make us human.

So why is this ideology of survival continually promoted as the engine of human evolution?

Because survival mode is easy to control.

Fear simplifies narratives.
Fear collapses nuance.
Fear makes domination feel necessary.

Darwin saw the white man as “predestined” to inherit the land—but that destiny was written in gunpowder, not DNA.

War is not a biological necessity. It is a failure of imagination.

Redefining Fitness

Darwin described what he observed. What we do with it is our responsibility.

Humans are the only species capable of reflection—of choosing differently. If survival is the only metric we optimise for, we may continue to exist, but we will never truly evolve.

Perhaps the truly “fit” are not those who survive at the expense of others, but those evolved enough to realise that survival is no longer the goal.

The real question is no longer who survives
but who dares to imagine a world where survival is not the price of progress.

And whether we are brave enough to live it.

Bridges and Chains

I was recently reminded of a walking tour in Budapest from a few years ago. The city, divided by the Danube River, is made up of two distinct halves: Buda and Pest. For centuries, they remained separate, each with its own identity, until the construction of the Chain Bridge in 1849. This bridge not only physically connected the two sides but also symbolized the merging of their contrasting personalities. The guide pointed out how this connection transformed the city’s architectural landscape, creating Budapest’s iconic eclectic style—a blend of influences from different cultures and periods. Buda, with its peaceful, upscale vibe, and Pest, bustling and full of life, each brought something unique to the city. Back then, they were distinct worlds, but today, they continue to coexist as separate yet complementary halves, each preserving its essence while contributing to the city’s dynamic whole.

My brain obviously went into reflection mode. There’s a famous saying: “Don’t burn your bridges.” It’s a reminder to leave situations and relationships in a way that preserves future possibilities. After all, bridges connect us, allowing for movement, exchange, and opportunity.

The bridge in Budapest is called the Chain Bridge for a reason, I guess. Chains symbolize strength and unity, holding things together even under pressure. Fleetwood Mac’s song The Chain encourages us to do just that. The song is a dark and desperate unity that reflects the band’s resilience. But the metaphor “break the chain” brings a different image to mind—liberating ourselves from cycles, constraints, or patterns that no longer serve us. This duality made me reflect on the concept of involution.

American sociologist Clifford Geertz described involution as stagnation — a loop of repeated behaviours that leads nowhere. In many ways, it reminded me of the famous Pink Floyd lyrics: “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year.” This feeling of being trapped in a cycle, unable to break free or evolve, encapsulates involution perfectly. It’s like being in a situation that feels like you’re going nowhere, no matter how much effort you put in. In contrast, evolution propels us forward, toward growth and improvement. In-volution, quite literally, is the opposite of e-volution. Where evolution is expansion, involution is regression.

It’s true chains can be seen as both connectors and constraints, a symbol of unity and of being trapped. I guess if you feel like you’re heading toward involution, remember, you have the power to break the chain or avoid building bridges altogether. But if evolution is truly at play, natural selection will unavoidably take over and stop you from breaking any chains and push you to evolve — to build bridges and not burn them.