We like to believe we are rational creatures.
That society is a product of brilliant minds and deliberate progress.
That what surrounds us today — our technologies, governments, economies, even our relationships — is the result of invention.
Conscious thought. Design. Intention.
But look closer. Beneath the surface of our “civilization” runs a deeper current — one that’s not learned in schools or coded into law, but passed through silence, mimicry, and emotional residue.
Some of what we live is invention.
Most of what we live is instinct — and worse, unconscious inheritance.
We didn’t just build the system.
We became it.
The Roots: Survival, Belonging, Territory
Our species evolved with instincts that ensured survival:
- Stick with your tribe.
- Guard your resources.
- Follow the leader.
- Distrust the unfamiliar.
- Seek pleasure now, deal with consequences later.
These impulses weren’t good or bad — they were adaptive.
They helped us eat, reproduce, and avoid death.
But here’s the catch: instinct doesn’t know when the danger is gone.
It keeps scanning. Keeps reacting. Keeps shaping our lives — long after the threats are obsolete.
The Rise of Invention: Systems That Organized the Chaos
To temper the chaos of pure instinct, we started inventing:
- Laws to curb violence.
- Religions to teach self-restraint and morality.
- Currency to replace barter and trust.
- Marriage, family units, borders, flags — all designed to contain, channel, and stabilize.
These were conscious creations.
They reflected a desire to grow beyond fear, hunger, and brute force.
They brought order where there was chaos, offered meaning where there was fear, and gave us shared language for things we couldn’t yet name.
They served us well — for a time.
But systems, like stories, gain momentum.
And over generations, something subtle happens:
We forget we built them.
And we start living as if they were always there.
The Turn: When the Invention Becomes the Instinct
This is where it gets dangerous.
What begins as an intentional system becomes:
- Cultural conditioning.
- Inherited trauma.
- Automatic behavior.
- Identity.
We no longer ask why the workweek is five days.
Why we feel guilty resting.
Why power concentrates.
Why wealth determines worth.
Why rage feels so close to the surface.
Because it’s all we’ve known.
Because it was handed down, not explained.
Because it’s easier to conform than to question the water we’re swimming in.
Where We Are Now: The System Has a Life of Its Own
This is the age of unconscious momentum.
We scroll not to connect, but to prove we still exist.
We chase productivity not to serve, but to stay relevant.
We vote, buy, post, parent, love — all inside invisible scripts written before we were born.
And yet…
This isn’t a lament. It’s a mirror.
Because if instinct built the fire, and invention built the fireplace —
We’re the ones who’ve been sitting in the smoke, forgetting to open a window.
So What Now?
We need new instincts. Or maybe, older ones.
- Presence over performance.
- Curiosity over certainty.
- Wholeness over winning.
We don’t have to burn it all down.
But we do need to remember we are still the inventors.
The system is not a god.
The way things are is not the way they have to be.
We built it.
We can build again — starting with questions we’ve stopped asking.
Like:
What beliefs do I live by that I never chose?
Where in my life am I following an invisible script?
What instincts still drive me that no longer serve me?
What would I build, if I remembered I could?
Because if we’re brave enough to ask,
We’re brave enough to begin.
