The human whisperer

Among the thousands of channels that appear on modern smart TVs without one really knowing where they come from, I recently stumbled upon one dedicated to replaying the famous series "The Dog Whisperer" 24/7. I find it a fascinating program, even though I've never had a dog in my life, but it's through this that I learn about the human condition.

If you've never seen it, each episode stars Cesar Millan, an expert dog trainer who comes to the aid of families desperate because of their pets' behavior. Dogs that have spent years biting their owners, terrorizing the neighborhood, taking over the sofa, or relieving themselves where they shouldn't, change their behavior remarkably as soon as the "Dog Whisperer" appears on the scene. In 99 percent of cases, the diagnosis, expressed in one way or another, is the same: the problem isn't with the dogs, but with the owners who don't know how to treat them properly.

By their very nature, and depending on the breed, dogs need physical exercise; discipline and a hierarchy, as they would have if they lived in a pack; affection and play; a diet suited to their activity level; and so on. When humans don't understand this and mistake them for people, the poor animals go berserk, since it's not within their power to change their nature overnight—a nature shaped drop by drop, like a stalactite, over tens of thousands of years of evolution. Finding the canine essence and trying to adapt to it is the key to their happiness and that of their owners.

Our world is also quite crazy, and although we can place much of the blame on our "masters," those who run the show, we as individuals still have enough autonomy to break free from the system, take care of our mental health, and achieve happiness for ourselves and those around us. We have built an inhumane society chasing after progress that, judging by the rising suicide rates and consumption of anti-anxiety medication, isn't bringing us happiness, however appealing posthumanism or transhumanism—in short, the transcendence of the human condition—may sound in our minds. 

We have lost touch with nature, which is our element. Millions of people have never seen a sky full of stars because the lights of our cities hide them from us; enjoying a daily walk in the countryside or on the beach is a luxury not everyone can afford; we live glued to devices that consume all our attention instead of spending the evenings outdoors or around the campfire, chatting with our community and telling stories of our ancestors; we have reduced the spiritual component to a minimum, if not completely done away with it; and the family made up of father, mother, and children is just a memory of yesterday.

Children learn what a river is without ever having seen one, they study history without knowing how much it relates to their lives, and they prepare for work without ever having lifted a finger, not even at home. We live long lives thanks to medicine, but since the elderly are seen as a burden, we convince them to request euthanasia. We have idolized work itself, ceasing to consider it a means of subsistence, and we have ended up living to work instead of working to live. We have distorted the sexuality that nature gave us to unite us and form community, and we have turned it into a bottomless pit of individualism.

Dunbar's number, which establishes that our brains are programmed to interact with 150 people per second, has been raised to infinity by social media. This has led to a constant feeling of inadequacy, with people always being more attractive, smarter, or stronger than us. We've hidden away pain, illness, death, and sadness, so when they naturally arrive, we're unable to face them with the fortitude of our parents. Our refrigerators are full, the supermarket is just around the corner, and we don't have to make much effort to hunt, fish, or gather. As a result, we have to inject ourselves with substances to suppress our natural hunger instincts and avoid becoming obese.

In so many other circumstances, we've created a world on a non-human scale that lies behind the lack of happiness you're experiencing today. Lacking a human-charming Cesar Millan nearby, try asking yourself: "How did my ancestors solve this?" You'll see that, most of the time, life isn't as tough as it seems.