Things Like Us

There’s a natural propensity for all creatures to be more sensitive to and aware of things that are similar to them—in size or appearance. Evolution has taught us to pay greater attention to other beings and objects that are like us than those who are greatly different. A spider, for example, focuses on insects that are similar in size—since its survival depends on trapping and eating them. Bacteria are far too small to interest a spider (let alone even be aware of) and an automobile is far too big to do anything about. Spiders thus remain oblivious to either microorganisms or Buicks.

This limitation of only perceiving things like us makes a lot of evolutionary sense—since they are more likely either to be enemies or friends (or even mates). A lion prowling on the African savanna cares little about a grasshopper on a nearby bush, nor does it pay much attention to a baobab tree (unless it provides some shade on a blistering afternoon). Our restricted attention saves us from sensory overload. If that lion became fixated on every bug or bush, it would surely miss an opportunity for its next meal.

Humans—being just another animal—also ignore dissimilar things. Even when we know about them, we often still tune them out. In addition, our propensity to think in a binary manner often causes us to label things as good or bad, based on whether they are like us or not. People who appear like us (of similar color and dress) are more likely to be perceived as friendly, while someone from a different culture or race may be classified as suspicious or even a threat.

This inclination for ignoring or discounting things outside our narrow view (even when we know they are there) is an interesting peculiarity of Homo sapiens. In fact, our greater cognitive ability and memory often add an exceptional dimension to our selective perceptions, most of which never occur to other animals. Although the spider or lion remain completely ignorant of things outside the normal range of their senses, we humans can become aware of them, but still choose to put our attention to more immediate sensations.

For example, our ability to extend our visual sense by using a telescope or microscope makes us aware of the presence and role of things as large as galaxies and as small as atoms. We know they are there, and some of us spend lifetimes investigating the very large and small, but for most of us they remain abstract images that are beyond our pale. We may hear the descriptions of particle physicists and astronomers and see the impressive images they capture, but our heads cannot seem to wrap themselves around the true significance of them. What does the immensity of a galaxy or the tiny scale of an atom really mean to us? Not much—maybe because we just can’t go there.

In a similar manner, we may know about the vast range of time scales—such as the billions of years that define the age of the universe or the tiniest fragments of a second that describe the vibrations of an atom. We can sit placidly and listen to a physicist describe these vastly different time scales. We may even be able to comprehend the abstract mathematical extremes of them, but can we really encompass their outrageous dimensions in our minds? Can we open our heads to the breadth?

Our eyes are sensitive to only the narrowest range of the electromagnetic spectrum. It’s probably necessary, so that we don’t become overloaded with visual information. Yet we are blind to the vast majority of the radiation that emanates from many things. A bee reacts to ultraviolet information that we are unaware of. A snake picks up on infrared signals that we miss.

As scientists are beginning to realize that the possibility of life elsewhere in the universe may be expressed in ways that are very alien to us—possibly not needing to be carbon based or inhaling oxygen or even needing water—the possibilities become mind-blowing. The nature of other worlds and other (possible) creatures out there just might be way beyond our current ability to guess. Our vision is earth-centered and very limited.

Things do not need to be like us to be real or relevant. The more we learn about this magnificent universe, the more we see that the possibilities are limitless. We could use more experiences that rattle our narrow perceptual cages and open us up to promises and potentials that are far beyond our existing confines. We need to grow up and understand that alien things are not necessarily a menace or unworthy, but can be as important as us and even serve to expand our consciousness.