The Paleolithic, also known as the old stone age, was a period that we know little of as it was an era of prehistory. We know that it probably happened approximately 3 million years ago, dating from the use of crude stone tools we have uncovered. We know that early hominins were most likely nomadic hunter-gatherers.
One such theory on the hunting practices of early humans is the theory of persistence (or endurance) hunting. The idea goes that when early humans were still hunting and gathering, long before our farms and industry, we simply hunted our prey to exhaustion.
Many animals that we used to hunt back then have evolved to be much, much faster than us. The gazelle has been recorded to be able to run sprints close to 100 kilometers per hour. It is remarkable to think that in the face of the beings that have evolved to outrun its prey, we responded simply by going on, and on, until they cannot.
One can argue that we were better of hunting slower prey. Of course, we did that too, but slower animals sometimes meant bigger and stronger. For example, Proboscidea, the taxonomic order to which the elephant and wooly mammoth hail, were hunted by our early ancestors. But this would still prove to be a daunting task. Imagine if you will having to square up against something 4 meters tall, weighing 5,000 kilograms, and having two long sharp tusks sticking out of its face. To this challenge, our early ancestors responded by performing these hunts as entire tribes that used a variety of crude tools: spears, axes, arrows, traps, and fire. Our ability to use tools, communicate, and organize ourselves, allowed us to fell these giants of the Earth.
It is easy to take these two stories in isolation and walk away with the simple story of how we are and always have been the apex of all life on Earth. But we were as much prey as we were predators; and we were subject to the mercy of many external forces.
One such force is the environment. In many parts of the Earth, the Sun was hot and scorching. Fleeing the heat for cooler climates meant inviting frostbite, and so many of our early ancestors back then lost fingers, toes, and whole limbs to the cold. The storms meant that we only had the caves and crude huts to rely on as sanctuaries from the coming storms.
Clean water as we know it today would not come for several millions of years more. This meant they were very much at the mercy of what parasites and bacteria lived in their waters. Many infectious diseases have also been found to have originated in the Paleolithic. And in an era before the mass production of antibiotics, a small cut would lead to an untreatable infection and eventual death. Many women died in childbirth. And one can imagine children dying young due to their inherent vulnerability. Estimates suggest that people in the Paleolithic era lived for only 30 to 40 years of age. Life back then was quantitatively harsher.
Fast forward a few million years to our time now. Our life today is arguably quantitatively better. We live for longer. We have medicines to combat parasites and many diseases. Food is less scarce, and clean water more available.
But of course, as we evolved and matured so did our problems.
Poverty. Corruption. Unemployment. Government inefficiency. Healthcare gaps. Antibiotic resistance. Global warming. Threats to democracy and our very civil liberties...
A long list of vicious cycles that have ingrained themselves in our life. The current pandemic seems to have only amplified our preexisting conditions. (READ: [ANALYSIS] Pandemic and the new authoritarianism)
What lessons are we then supposed to glean from the Paleolithic period of our history?
Is it that times were much harder back then and they are better now and so we must count ourselves the lucky ones for being alive today? Surely not. It is foolish and cruel to drug ourselves with past suffering so that we may trick ourselves into thinking that our pains today are less important and more manageable.
So I humbly offer you this instead.
Imagine once again that you are the hunter stalking the gazelle as the scorching heat of the sun beats down on your back. With each approach to your prey it eludes you. But you know you must press on. Because you know that eventually, the gazelle will tire.
Right now there are people working tirelessly to create a vaccine and other solutions to this pandemic. Many men and women of science are chasing that gazelle, trying to pin it down, as it runs away from them. But, they continue to persist on the chase for answers.
Imagine now that you are hunting the great megaherbivores of old. You have your tools before you. But chief among them are your tribe and your capacity to cooperate and work together. Now we face more complex and arguably more sinister giants. And though our sharp sticks and rocks will not slay these modern giants, we still can. There are those of us who work at dismantling these vicious cycles of poverty, and corruption, and inefficiency, engaging in the work of trying to make the world better. (READ: Volunteer your skills during the lockdown through these initiatives)
And as a caution, I feel pressured to remind you to not walk away from reading this with the notion that "others are on it." The problems we face today require a concerted effort and we must all decide what part we shall play in all of this.
But if you still remain unconvinced of these lessons, I ask you to cross that ocean of time with me once again and imagine this: a great wind has been blown to us and has brought with it a great storm. We retreat to a cave. We start a fire for light and to warm ourselves. And we sit there, together, with nothing but the sound of wind and rain outside and the faint echo from depths of the cave – until one of us breaks the silence. And so she tells the story of how the sun was hot and beaming down on her, and how she was stalking a gazelle, and how she ran after it, and how it was faster than her, but she kept chasing it, and eventually, it grew tired. And then another one told the story of how he dug a trap to hunt a big strong beast and how others worked to lure it in.
And so we tell ourselves these stories of our hunts to pass the time, to pass the storm. To remind ourselves that the world is harsh, but small triumphs are possible together, and with a little persistence. Now there is only the sound of the storm, and the light of the fire, and the stories we tell each other.
Come back now to our time. To the sound of this storm, we are facing. To the light of the screen connecting us. And to the stories, we now tell each other. Know that the world is harsh but victories are possible together, with a little persistence. – Rappler.com
Renzo Arceta is currently studying to get his MBA and degree in medicine. Writing is his means of looking for hope, and understanding these times.