8 Ways We're Hardwired to Turn Minor Stress into Catastrophe

Humanity has never been so well provided for. We've pulled an Indian rope trick with the food chain, climbing so far above it that people can now decide they don't feel like eating certain kinds of organism, which is the evolutionary equivalent of doing a handstand on the top of the food pyramid.

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"How's spending your entire life on a single leaf working out, koalassholes?"

But our status as evolutionary emeritus has left our brains looking for something else to worry about. And they're obliged by major news networks, which like to keep our stress levels somewhere between a nine-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory and a nine-tailed peacock trying to escape that cat through a narrow gap in the factory's wall.

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"Maybe I could spin my tail like a helicopter."

The result? Perfectly healthy, well-fed, indoor, and entirely unmaimed monkeys screeching about how stressed they are. Stress is a terrible high-pitched scream that can only be heard in the stomach, a horrible tightness in the chest where it feels like your heart is holding its breath and you realize "Holy shit, my resting state is now simulating heart attacks." Stress is designed for saber-toothed tigers and routinely deployed against spreadsheets, and, just like we can do with anything, humans can make it way better and worse ...

#8. The Stress Harvest

For a bountiful stress harvest, take a task that isn't due for a long time. Plant it deep in your To-Do lists, fertilize it with the bullshit of assumptions of its easiness, water it by pissing away all your time, and then reap the double harvest of stressing about getting it done at the last minute while screaming at yourself for letting this happen.

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It's an agriculture of panic. Worse, the undone job undercuts your enjoyment of everything you tried to enjoy instead of getting it over with in the first place. Wrapping up a task feels good, amplifying all our endorphins when we relax. Delaying something we can easily complete leaves a little knot of nagging neurons, and instead of working away on the job in the background, all they're doing is building up the biggest "I TOLD YOU SO!" possible when you find yourself scrambling at the last minute.

The deep dark circuits of your apey brain don't understand tax filings or carburetor maintenance, but that only makes their worry about those things all the worse. A survival animal's only level of worry is "If I don't do what I'm meant to, I will die." If an ape didn't do its daily work, it got starved, frozen, and eaten, and it's bringing that level of stress to incomplete RJ-17 forms.

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You could let the ape deal with them directly, because smearing them with shit and throwing them at your boss will ensure you don't have to fill out any more.

#7. The Squeezed Asshole

When we stress, our brain shifts to emergency mode and reprioritizes. For many, the first thing to go is any pretense of empathy. It's amazing how many people will put "getting to the counter five seconds faster" above "every other person in the world." Or "realizing I'm unarmed and outnumbered," which really should be your first instinct when you start acting like an asshole in an anonymous crowd, every one of whom could provide alibis for the others while Orient Express-ing your ass into chunks.

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"Spend one more minute at the head of the queue shouting about expired vouchers. We'll be the United Colors of Beatdown."

Back when our brains were being built, an asshole mode made sense, because any "crisis situation" was usually bounding toward you with a mouth full of knives and a hungry expression. Social niceties could be sacrificed. As could the slowest person you were being nice to.

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"We'll need you to collate the copies, make the coffee, and wear 5 pounds of veal to go meet the clients from Panthera leo."

The same stress situation gave rise to the idea of "shitting yourself," as your body dumped all unnecessary weight in an effort to outrun apex predators (and presumably to make you less appetizing to eat). But we don't shit ourselves anymore, and shitting over other people doesn't help either. Important but voluntary stresses like exams and airplane departure times simply don't justify prickery. No matter how screwed the situation, every desk worker preserves some small ability to make things better or worse for you. Screaming is a shortcut to the latter.

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"I'm sorry, sir, it seems your appointment was scheduled for the next bank holiday after the heat death of the universe."

#6. Physical Self-Destruct

We've mentioned how stress makes us ignore anything non-essential, the insane modern definition of "non-essential" meaning "the exact opposite of that; everything humans need to stay alive and in fact evolved specifically to do." The first two tasks to go are eating well and cleaning at all. But better food and improving our environment were the primary points of sapiening. Food devolves into grabbing gobs of grease on the go. Any society where someone can care more about the font for a PowerPoint than the material they'll use to rebuild their own colon is insane.

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"I'm projecting that output will increase 57 percent, but that I won't enjoy it."

Maintaining our environment -- you know, the one and only ability elevating us above every other life form on the planet, the one we're so much better at that the word "predator" doesn't even apply to us anymore -- is utterly ignored.

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"Yeah, I'm thinking I'll just start it all again from scratch. Life, I mean. From unicellular. Right here."

The result is entropy acceleration. You decay as your body tries to rebuild itself out of garbage, which would at least camouflage it in your increasingly stinking filth chamber. Add the way stress depresses your immune system, and you've got a body breaking down in a disease cultivation lab. The flesh can't defend itself against sickness, and the rapidly depressing brain no longer even wants to. Which segues nicely into ...

#5. Wishing You Were Sick

Some people still wish they were sick instead of going to work, because some people never actually grew up; they just became large enough to go to jobs instead of school.

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"I am exactly sick enough to miss office work but not miss my guild, despite those being functionally identical."

Wishing you were sick is the brain doing the exact opposite of what it was built for. Again. The worst part is the awful failure of attitude indicated by wishing you were truly sick instead of screaming "SCREW IT" and simulating the symptoms with a bottle of scotch. Either live properly or screw up properly. When someone's self-belief is so low that they're seeking permission from virus particles to do what they want, they're overestimating how much the species would miss them if they didn't turn up.

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