It's not just you.

Look. I know you think you were born damaged.I know you’re convinced that you’re broken—or maybe just weak and pathetic—given your lousy track-record of self-control.I just want you to know—no, I need you to know—that none of that is true. You’re not broken. In fact, you’re the opposite of broken. You’re functioning exactly as you were designed.All those vices you’re consuming. All that procrastination. All that binging on Reddit, then Youtube, then TikTok, then streaming TV... it’s just your way of pacifying and coping with the constant pain and unease you were born to feel 24/7.And it’s not just you who feels it; it’s all of us.So where does this pain come from? Why are we, when not distracting ourselves with our vices, so damn restless and unsatisfied?It’s not like we’re lacking in anything fundamental. It’s not like we, in our day and age of comfort and security, have much of a reason to feel this way, right?It’s kind of messed up, but we—us humans—were designed to be perpetually unhappy.We evolved into being this way over millions of years. Like how natural selection brought us opposable thumbs and peripheral vision, the same survival forces brought us a constant background ache of discontent.The reason for this is simple: Motivation. Evolution favored our discontented and restless ancestors because they worked harder and were more likely to survive. Their hunger and discomfort fueled their motivation to get out there, take risks, use energy, and change things to their advantage .Now, I know what you’re thinking.That’s all great for, like, cavemen or whatever, but this doesn’t apply to me. I’m miserable as hell, and yet I feel the opposite of motivation. Most if the time, all I feel is tired, lazy, and apathetic.Well, take a step back for a second. Look beyond your bubble and your daily self-discipline struggles. Consider the world around you, and put things into context.
Observe how extensively our environment has changed since the days we roamed the grassy African savannahs or the snowy Siberian plains.
When our nomadic ancestors were motivated to relieve this evolved perpetual discontent, when they decided to do something to scratch the uncomfortable itch of lacking and wanting, they had to work for it.
They had to take on risks and endure long and dangerous missions and quests. In their world of scarcity and danger, relief never came easy. There was always a cost of time (days) + energy (thousands of calories) + risk (potential death).
To get relief from this discontent, and to enjoy a little bonus reward of pleasure from, say, the taste of meat or a pat on the back from an elder for locating an ideal spot to build shelter, our ancestors had to trade-off between time, effort, and risk. The cost and the reward were finely balanced.
Today, that’s no longer true.
With our modern-day vices, the cost of rewards has been all but eliminated. The time-to-reward is now seconds. The energy involved is the fraction of a calorie it takes to tap a screen. The risk is non-existent.
This sounds amazing—and in many ways, living in our modern utopia of abundance and security really is exactly that—but this has consequences. There are side effects.
On the societal level, we have unprecedented rates of addiction, depression, and anxiety. Since we don’t have a frame of reference of what it was like before, we’ve collectively decided to shrug and say,
This is normal… humans are by nature impulsive, gluttonous, lazy, and inherently ungrateful creatures.
But we are not living in normal times.
Normal was: you were fearful, dissatisfied, horny and hungry… so you were motivated to seek out and protect against predators and other dangers; you worked to form tenuous but crucial alliances; you found and courted a mate (while trying not to get killed for approaching the wrong one), and you hunted for what sure as hell did not want to be hunted.
Normal was: you did all those things, you—hopefully, fingers-crossed—survived another day, then you went to sleep utterly spent but with a brief moment of serenity and inner-satisfaction.
Normal was: you woke up to a new set of needs and threats, but, luckily, the discontent and the promise of relief and reward motivated you to get up and do it all over again.
Our circumstances have changed, as far as history is concerned, in the blink of an eye. We now live in abnormal times.
Abnormal is: you feel fearful, dissatisfied, horny and hungry… so you’re motivated to… what?... grab your phone, scroll through sensational news and outrageous comments on Twitter, feel pings of pretend status on Instagram, get instant gratification through porn, and inhale some ultra-processed, high-calorie, artificially enhanced food… all before 10 am.
Abnormal is: doing all those things, which work insanely well and fast to quiet and numb the inner discontent, then snapping back to reality where… no, things aren’t actually better; no my problems are not actually solved; no I have threats coming at me from all directions. And so you’re compelled to grab at more vice again and again and again until you’ve blunted your brain’s pleasure receptors making it require even more for a sliver of relief and reward.
Abnormal is: going to bed with nothing substantial to show for your day; ruminating and stressed from procrastinating on all your modern obligations and long-term worries—paying rent, getting good grades, landing a job amidst record unemployment, not getting fired because a robot or a dude in the Philippines can now do your job for nothing, bracing for the next economic collapse or World War III, and, oh, not dying or accidently killing grandma during an endless global pandemic…
Abnormal is: waking up the next day, with the same heavy burden, but with the same wired “motivation” to relieve it quickly, albeit mistakenly and temporarily and stupidly, through your fucking vices.
We live in abnormal times.
We just weren’t made for this world.