Satnavs, Chainsaws, and the Slow Death of Common Sense
There’s a quiet, nagging sadness I feel when I look at the world today. We’re so tangled up in rules, systems, and screens that we’ve lost touch with the instincts that used to guide us. Modern life, for all its conveniences, has dulled that inner voice—the one that just knows things without needing a step-by-step manual. These days, people seem hesitant to make a move without explicit instructions, which is ironic given that our ancestors managed just fine without warning labels on everything.
Speaking of which—those labels say a lot about where we are. Car batteries now helpfully remind us not to drink their contents. Baby clothes warn: “Remove child before washing.” And in my time as a woodland guardian, I’ve come across a chainsaw manual that felt the need to clarify: “Do not attempt to stop chain with hands or genitals.” Amusing? Yes. A bit tragic? Also yes. Because if we need this much hand-holding for basic common sense, what does that say about our ability to handle the bigger, more complex stuff?
This loss of instinct plays out in more subtle ways too. Take navigation. Not long ago, we actually read maps. We studied roads, paid attention to landmarks, developed an internal sense of direction. Now? We just follow the satnav, blindly turning where it tells us to, never really absorbing where we are. Try finding a road atlas at a service station these days—you won’t. It’s a small thing, but it speaks to a larger shift: we’re outsourcing skills we once carried in our bones. And when you lose that natural awareness, it’s not just geography you lose your way in.
The Quiet Cost of Convenience: How We’re Losing Our Natural Instincts
The real cost of all this isn’t just that we’ve made ourselves a bit useless without technology. It’s that we’re breaking ties with something deeper. Our gut feelings, our ability to read situations, to trust what can’t always be explained—these are the same instincts that guide animals, the same ones that once kept us alive and in tune with the world around us. As they fade, so does our connection to the wild, and to a part of ourselves that’s older than words.
Relearning What We Were Never Meant to Forget
But here’s the good news: we can find our way back. This isn’t some grand, irreversible decline. It’s just a nudge—a reminder that our instincts are still there, waiting to be woken up.
Think of it like digging an old map out of a drawer. At first, it might look overwhelming, all those unfamiliar roads and winding lines. But the more you study it, the more it starts making sense. You get a feel for where things are. That’s what reconnecting with instinct is like. It’s not about throwing out technology, but about remembering that we can find our own way—both literally and figuratively—without relying on a voice from a screen.
Instinct: The Survival Skill We’ve Been Taught to Ignore
One of the simplest ways to start? Slow down and listen. Intuition is quiet. It doesn’t shout over constant noise, so giving yourself space—whether that’s sitting in silence, walking without a destination, or just spending time outdoors—makes it easier to hear. Nature is a shortcut to all of this. Stand barefoot on the earth. Watch how animals move. Walk through a forest without a podcast in your ears. It’s all there, waiting to be noticed.
Trust Your Gut (Before We Forget How)
And then there’s the bigger picture: the way we think and interact. We’ve got to make space for independent thought, for trusting our gut instead of waiting for instructions. We need conversations where people feel able to disagree, explore ideas, and think—rather than just absorb. Because if animals can survive on instinct, adapt, and thrive, so can we.
Reconnecting with instinct doesn’t mean rejecting progress. It just means learning to balance it—using the tools we have without losing the deeper, wordless knowledge that makes us human. The future isn’t set in stone, but the wildness in us is still there. And it’s ready when we are.
