During a walk today, I found myself thinking about where the human urge to create idols actually comes from.
Imagine a time when people still lived in tribes. Any hands that brought real benefit to the tribe were worth their weight in gold — and for good reason. Someone with skills didn’t just help themselves; they supported everyone. Any prey belonged to the group. Even the greediest person understood a simple truth: you can’t eat an entire bison alone, and next time it will be someone else who brings one down.
It’s reasonable to assume that staying close to a skilled hunter meant more than just access to food — it meant access to knowledge. That’s likely where a deeply rooted idea first appeared: someone with more resources will share. Words spoken by an experienced person were taken as unquestionable truth.
Fast forward to the modern world. The rules have changed, but the habit remains.
Encountering someone more successful still disarms many people — it weakens their will and shuts down independent thought. Somewhere in the back of the mind, the same old expectation lingers: they’ll share soon. But they don’t. And people still listen with open mouths to whatever this so-called “crown of creation” proclaims, even when their actual competence is highly questionable.
This habit is triggered effortlessly. Put on a lab coat on screen — and suddenly every word carries “scientific” authority. A multimillion audience turns anyone — from bloggers to actors — into experts on virtually any topic, despite the fact that they are usually competent in only one thing: their own career. Real exceptions are rare.
So here’s the conclusion.
Don’t place value in some unreachable “celestial beings with long tongues.” Value those who are close to you — no matter how “simple” they may seem. Those who still share with you every day: bread, feelings, and time.
Imagine a time when people still lived in tribes. Any hands that brought real benefit to the tribe were worth their weight in gold — and for good reason. Someone with skills didn’t just help themselves; they supported everyone. Any prey belonged to the group. Even the greediest person understood a simple truth: you can’t eat an entire bison alone, and next time it will be someone else who brings one down.
It’s reasonable to assume that staying close to a skilled hunter meant more than just access to food — it meant access to knowledge. That’s likely where a deeply rooted idea first appeared: someone with more resources will share. Words spoken by an experienced person were taken as unquestionable truth.
Fast forward to the modern world. The rules have changed, but the habit remains.
Encountering someone more successful still disarms many people — it weakens their will and shuts down independent thought. Somewhere in the back of the mind, the same old expectation lingers: they’ll share soon. But they don’t. And people still listen with open mouths to whatever this so-called “crown of creation” proclaims, even when their actual competence is highly questionable.
This habit is triggered effortlessly. Put on a lab coat on screen — and suddenly every word carries “scientific” authority. A multimillion audience turns anyone — from bloggers to actors — into experts on virtually any topic, despite the fact that they are usually competent in only one thing: their own career. Real exceptions are rare.
So here’s the conclusion.
Don’t place value in some unreachable “celestial beings with long tongues.” Value those who are close to you — no matter how “simple” they may seem. Those who still share with you every day: bread, feelings, and time.