The Monkey Theory: they are more intelligent than humans

The Evolutionary Dead End

We are taught to view evolution as a ladder, a linear ascent from the primitive to the advanced. We sit at the top, looking down at the animal kingdom with a mix of pity and scientific curiosity. We built civilizations, legal systems, and global economies. We split the atom and mapped the genome.

But if we strip away the technological marvels and look strictly at the quality of existence, a disturbing question arises: Did we actually win?

The “Monkey Theory” proposes a radical inversion of our anthropocentric worldview. It suggests that our primate cousins didn’t fail to evolve into us; they chose not to. They saw the trajectory of human consciousness, the burden of foresight, the cruelty of organized power, the relentless dissatisfaction of ambition, and they instinctively rejected it. They stayed in the trees not out of inability, but out of wisdom.

The Politics of “Enough”

The fundamental difference between the monkey and the modern human is political. The monkey lives in a state of natural anarchy where needs are immediate and finite. A banana is eaten, a branch is claimed, a grooming session is shared. There is no accumulation of capital, no hoarding of resources for a theoretical future, and consequently, no systemic poverty.

Human society, by contrast, is built on the rejection of “enough.” Our economic systems require perpetual growth to function. We are culturally conditioned to view contentment as stagnation. This is not an accident of nature; it is a political choice.

We have constructed a world where the vast majority of the population spends the majority of their waking hours performing labor they do not enjoy, to buy things they do not need, to impress people they do not like. We call this “civilization.” The monkey, observing this from the canopy, would likely call it insanity.

The Burden of Consciousness

The price of our “advancement” is the heavy burden of existential dread. We are the only species that pays taxes, the only species that worries about its legacy, and the only species that commits suicide.

We have traded the immediate, visceral experience of life for a mental construct of it. We live in our heads, constantly projecting into the future or ruminating on the past. We have invented concepts like “career,” “status,” and “net worth” to give structure to our lives, but these structures have become cages.

The monkey lives in the eternal present. It does not worry about retirement. It does not suffer from imposter syndrome. It does not lie awake at night wondering if it has wasted its potential. It simply is.

The Illusion of the Safety Net

In our modern political discourse, we demonize dependency. We look with disdain upon those who rely on social safety nets, labeling them as “unproductive” or “parasitic.” But let’s look at the brutal reality of the math.

Consider the “model citizen”: the full-time worker sacrificing 9 to 14 hours of their day just to feed a family. They are the backbone of society, yet they are breaking. They are chronically sleep-deprived, medicated for stress, and strangers to their own children. They sold their life for stability, but the cost of living keeps rising while their soul keeps shrinking.

Contrast this with the person living on government benefits, perhaps working a few part-time hours. Society calls them “leeches.” But look at their face. They aren’t tired. They have time to sit in the park. They have time to live.

The uncomfortable truth is that the person “living off the system” is often happier than the person fueling it. The anger directed at them isn’t about fairness; it’s about envy. It is the visceral reaction of a prisoner watching someone else sit in the sun while they break rocks. The system needs you to believe that their life is shameful, because if you realized that poverty with time is better than middle-class misery, you might stop showing up to work.

A Return to the Trees?

We cannot return to the trees. We cannot un-know what we know or un-invent what we have built. There are no definitive ways to escape the cage we built for ourselves.

But know this: the constant consumption of news, the obsession with global gossip, and the relentless search for negativity will only serve one purpose. They will not make you informed. They will make you more human, the desperate one.

The monkey isn’t behind us. In a profound, existential sense, it is ahead of us, waiting for us to realize that the race we are running has no finish line.