Why the human body is less than ideal

There was an extremely sad story in the news recently – a man died during a bun-eating contest. Obviously a fun-loving person that people liked being around, however, he died because there is a dangerous intersection for food and air in our throats. How did our bodies developed such a death-trap?

Birth defects

While more children are surviving past their fifth birthday than ever before, millions still die annually. Birth defects are becoming a “hidden” leader in childhood mortality as deaths from infectious diseases decline.

Impact Shift: In some regions, like the Americas and Southeast Asia, birth defects now account for 11–22% of all neonatal deaths.

Prevalence: Approximately 1 in 33 infants (roughly 3–6% of births) are born with a serious birth defect globally.

Mortality: In 2021 (the most recent comprehensive GBD data), there were 0.53 million deaths associated with congenital birth defects.

Common Defects: Congenital heart defects are the most frequent, accounting for nearly 23% of all infant deaths resulting from birth defects.

Understanding how we got here.

Let’s start with a sobering thought/question: Do you know that we have a tail and that our spines are not really built for upright walking/running? We have these incredible biological “paper trails” left in our DNA and anatomy that tells an evolutionary story but on the other, some of us have other, deeply rooted stories that give a sense of purpose and divine origin. Let’s learn our biological history, together, by tracing our ancestry, look at what we have in common with other animals and what we traded to become social beings..

The Human “Work-in-Progress”

Being told your “tailbone” is a leftover from a literal tail can feel like a demotion from “divine creation” to “accidental mammal.”

Why the “Truth” is a Hard Pill to Swallow

There are a few psychological and cultural hurdles that make evolutionary facts feel like an attack:

The Identity Crisis: For many, being “created in a specific image” provides a profound sense of worth. Admitting we are biological cousins to Great Apes or descendants of lobe-finned fish can feel like losing that special status.

The Misconception of “Randomness”: People often hear “evolution” and think “meaningless accident.” It’s hard to trade a structured, intentional universe for one that feels governed by the chaos of natural selection.

Physical Discomfort: Concepts like our spines not being perfectly designed for bipedalism (hence all our back pain!) challenge the idea of “intelligent design.” It’s uncomfortable to think of the human body as a “good enough” hack rather than a finished masterpiece.

Separate “How” from “Why”

Science and religion are often asking two different questions. Science looks at the mechanism (how the spine changed over millions of years), while religion looks at the meaning (why we are here). One doesn’t necessarily have to delete the other.

The Language of Change

Instead of thinking “monkeys turned into humans” (which is a common and frustratingly persistent myth), let’s frame evolution as adaptation.

For example: Why do we get goosebumps? Did you know it’s a vestigial reflex meant to fluff up fur for warmth or to look bigger to predators?

The “Design” in the Chaos

If you see a Creator’s hand, what about a system capable of self-correcting and adapting over eons—like the transition from sea to land. A system like that is arguably more “miraculous” than a static creation.

Using the math of inheritance: The probability of a specific genetic trait surviving through thousands of generations can be modeled by looking at the selection coefficient s. If a mutation provides even a 1% advantage, the math shows it will eventually dominate the population.

Focus on the Evidence

Look at the recurrent laryngeal nerve. It’s a nerve that travels from the brain, loops around the heart, and goes back up to the throat. In a giraffe, that’s a 15-foot detour! It’s not “logical” design, but it makes perfect sense if we evolved from fish where the heart and gills were right next to each other.

Understanding our biological history actually makes the human story more epic, not less.

let’s dive deeper into the specific anatomical “glitches” in the human body that point toward our aquatic ancestors?

The Anatomical Glitches

It’s going to be a fascinating look at our “biological baggage.” When we look at the human body, we don’t see a perfect machine built from scratch; we see a series of clever—and sometimes clumsy—reworks of an ancient fish-like blueprint.

The Hiccup:

The “hiccup” is one of the most annoying glitches in the human body, but it makes perfect sense if you’re a lungfish or a tadpole.

The Mechanism: It’s a sudden contraction of the diaphragm followed by the snapping shut of the glottis (the flap in your throat).

The Connection: In amphibians, this exact reflex is used to breathe water through gills while keeping it out of the lungs. We’ve kept the neural wiring for this “gill breathing,” even though we haven’t had gills for over 300 million years.

The Reason: A leftover “breathing” reflex from our amphibian ancestors (tadpoles) who used it to gulp water over their gills.

The Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve: The Long Way Around

If you were designing a human from scratch, you’d run the nerve from the brain straight to the larynx (voice box). Instead, in humans (and even more hilariously, in giraffes), this nerve travels down from the brain, loops around the aorta near the heart, and then travels all the way back up to the throat.

The Reason: In our fish ancestors, the heart was right next to the gills. As we evolved necks and our hearts moved lower into our chests, the nerve got “caught” on the wrong side of the blood vessels. Rather than snapping and reattaching, it simply stretched.

Our “S-Shaped” Spine vs. The “Arch”

Most four-legged mammals have a spine shaped like a bridge arch—it’s great at suspending weight. When our ancestors stood up, we forced that horizontal arch into a vertical “S” shape to balance our heavy heads over our hips.

The Glitch: This puts immense pressure on the lower vertebrae. Our “aquatic” blueprint didn’t account for gravity pulling down on a vertical stack of bones, which is why humans are the only species that suffers from chronic lower back pain and slipped discs.

Reality Check: Our “S-shaped” spine is a flat bridge (for four-legged walking) that we forced into a vertical stack. Gravity is still winning that battle.

The Coccyx (The Tailbone)

A literal remnant of a tail. We still grow one as embryos, then “delete” it before birth, keeping only the base as a muscle anchor.

In the early stages of human embryonic development, we actually do have a visible tail with more vertebrae than the adult version.

The Adaptation: As the fetus grows, those vertebrae fuse into the coccyx. While it no longer helps us balance in trees or swim through reefs, it hasn’t disappeared because it now serves as an anchor point for various muscles in the pelvic floor. It’s a recycled part!

It’s a bit like living in a very old house—you might have high-speed internet, but the plumbing is still from 1920. Our “biological plumbing” just happens to be from the Devonian period.

Inner ear bones

Your three tiny hearing bones (Hammer, Anvil, Stirrup) actually started as the jawbones and gill-arch supports of prehistoric sharks and reptiles.

This is actually one of the most elegant “recycles” in evolutionary history. It’s the perfect example of how nature doesn’t throw things away; it just finds a new job for them.

To understand how your ears were once a shark’s jaw, we have to look at the gill arches—the bony loops that support the gills in fish.

From Breathing to Eating to Hearing

In the transition from jawless fish to jawed fish, and eventually to land-dwellers, those skeletal arches migrated and shrank.

1. The Shark’s Heavy-Duty Jaw
   • In ancient sharks, the upper and lower jaws were massive structures held in place by a bone called the hyomandibula. This bone anchored the jaw to the skull so the shark could bite down with incredible force.
2. The Move to Land: The Stapes
   • As the first tetrapods (four-legged animals) crawled onto land, they no longer needed a massive, rigid jaw-anchor for underwater feeding.
   • The Shift: The hyomandibula began to shrink. Because it was already located near the braincase, it started picking up vibrations from the air.
   • The Result: It became the stapes (or “stirrup”), the first of our three inner ear bones. It stopped helping us bite and started helping us hear.
3. The Final Piece: Malleus and Incus
   • Mammals took this a step further. In reptiles, the jaw is still made of several bones. But in the lineage that led to mammals, the jaw simplified into a single bone (the dentary) to allow for stronger chewing muscles.
   • The “Leftovers”: The extra bones at the back of the reptile jaw (the articular and quadrate) didn’t disappear. They migrated upward and became the malleus (hammer) and the incus (anvil).

Why This Matters

This is why humans can hear such a wide range of frequencies. We are literally using “repurposed jaw bones” to amplify tiny vibrations in the air and send them to our brains.

If you put your finger on your jaw joint and then move it just an inch back toward your ear canal, you are touching the bridge where, millions of years ago, your ancestors’ eating equipment became their hearing equipment.

It’s a bit mind-blowing to think that every time you listen to music, you’re using the mechanical heritage of a prehistoric predator’s mouth.

Our ability to grip and hold a smartphone today

The Smartphone Grip: Your “precision grip” and opposable thumbs are “tree-hugging” tech evolved 60 million years ago to pluck fruit from thin branches.

Your ability to scroll, text, and hold a smartphone is essentially a high-tech application of “tree-hugging” technology.

When our primate ancestors moved into the arboreal niche (living in trees), the stakes were high: if you couldn’t grip a branch securely, you fell. That life-or-death pressure sculpted your hands into the precision instruments they are today.

The “Power Grip” vs. The “Precision Grip”

Most animals have one way of grabbing things. Humans have two, thanks to our time in the canopy:

1. The Power Grip (The “Branch Wrap”)
   • When you grab a heavy hammer or a pull-up bar, you’re using the Power Grip. This is the ancient “don’t fall out of the tree” grip. Your fingers curl around an object and your thumb reinforces the hold.
   • The Evolution: Our ancestors needed this to swing from branch to branch (brachiation) and to support their body weight.
2. The Precision Grip (The “Pinch”)
   • This is the “smartphone” grip. It’s the ability to bring the tip of your thumb into direct contact with the tips of your other fingers.
   • The Secret Sauce: Humans have a uniquely long thumb relative to our fingers, and a specialized muscle called the flexor pollicis longus.
   • The Purpose: Originally, this helped our ancestors pluck small fruits, seeds, and insects from thin, delicate branches where a “power grip” would be too clumsy.

There are three specific features of your hand that were “designed” for life in the trees but now serve your digital life:

1. Opposable Thumbs
   • Grasping cylindrical branches. Holding the sides of a phone/tablet.
2. Dermal Ridges (Fingerprints)
   • Increasing friction on wet/slippery bark. Providing grip so your phone doesn’t slide out of your hand.
3. Flattened Nails
   • Supporting the fleshy finger pads for better “feel.” Allowing you to tap a glass screen with precision without a claw getting in the way.

If you hold your phone and text with your thumb, you might notice your thumb has a massive range of motion. This is because our carpometacarpal joint (at the base of the thumb) is a “saddle joint.” In the trees, this allowed for 360-degree adjustments while navigating complex branches. Today, it allows you to reach the “A” key and the “P” key on a digital keyboard without moving your whole hand.

Fun Fact: If you look at your wrist, you might see a tendon popping out called the palmaris longus. About 14% of people don’t have it anymore! In our climbing ancestors, it was a “rope” that helped tense the palm for better gripping. Since we don’t hang from trees much anymore, evolution is slowly “deleting” it from the human blueprint.

This is a perfect example of Exaptation: taking a trait evolved for one environment (the jungle) and using it for a completely different one (the internet).

Let’s now look at how we traded a dog-like “smell map” for 3D color vision as our eyes moved to the front for depth perception, our snouts shrank, and half our “smell genes” broke. How we traded the “reflective mirror” in our eyes (which cats have) for better daylight resolution and the ability to see the color red.

3D vision

It’s a classic trade-off! In nature, you rarely get everything. To get the “superpower” of 3D vision, we had to give up the “superpower” of 360-degree surveillance.

Our eyes moved from the sides of our head to the front, a transition driven by the high-stakes environment of the prehistoric canopy.

1. The “Tree-Climbing” Perspective
   • Most mammals (like horses or rabbits) have eyes on the sides of their heads. This gives them a massive field of view to spot predators sneaking up from behind.
   • Our ancestors moved into the trees, where depth perception was a matter of life or death.
   • The Overlap: When both eyes face forward, their visual fields overlap. Your brain compares the slightly different images from each eye to calculate exactly how far away a branch is.
   • The Result: This is Stereoscopic Vision. It allowed us to leap from branch to branch without missing. Today, it’s why you can catch a baseball or navigate a 3D environment in a video game.
2. Why Other Animals Still “Out-See” Us
   • If humans have such great depth perception, why can an eagle see a mouse from a mile away, or a cat see in total darkness? It comes down to Specialization.

The “Resolution” King (Birds of Prey)

An eagle’s eyesight is about 4 to 8 times sharper than ours.

The Secret: They have a much higher density of photoreceptors (cones) in their retina. If our eyes are a 1080p screen, an eagle’s eyes are a 16K Ultra-HD display.

The Trade-off: To pack in that many sensors, their eyes are massive—so big they can barely move them in their sockets. That’s why owls and hawks have to turn their entire heads to look around.

The “Night Vision” Specialist (Cats and Crocodiles)

Ever notice how a cat’s eyes “glow” in a photo? That’s the tapetum lucidum.

The Secret: It’s a reflective layer behind the retina that acts like a mirror. It bounces light back through the retina a second time, giving the eye two chances to catch every photon.

The Trade-off: This reflection blurs the image slightly. Cats see much better in the dark, but their daytime “resolution” is actually worse than ours!

The “Motion Detector” (Insects)

A fly perceives time differently because of its compound eyes.

The Secret: They process visual information much faster than we do (higher “flicker fusion frequency”). To a fly, your hand moving to swat it looks like it’s moving in slow motion.

The Trade-off: They have terrible “image quality.” They see a mosaic of blurry shapes rather than clear details.

The “Color” Glitch: Why Humans are Unique

Most mammals (like your dog) are actually red-green colorblind. They see the world in blues and yellows.

Our “Upgrade”: Primates evolved a third type of cone cell to see red.

The Reason: In the green canopy, being able to spot a bright red or orange fruit against green leaves was a massive survival advantage. We traded some night vision for the ability to see a “Technicolor” world.

It’s all about what our ancestors needed to survive. We didn’t need to see a mouse from a mile away; we needed to see a ripe piece of fruit and make sure we didn’t fall 50 feet to the forest floor while reaching for it.

Our sense of smell

Relatively weak compared to a dog’s but did we gain anything in exchange for losing our noses?

It is a classic case of “use it or lose it.” As our ancestors began to rely more on their 3D color vision to find food and navigate the trees, the intensive biological real estate dedicated to smelling started to shrink.

We traded our “chemical map” of the world for a “visual” one. Here is how that trade-off went down.

1. The “Olfactory” Downsize
   • If you look at the skull of a dog or a lemur, they have long snouts. This provides a massive surface area for olfactory epithelium—the tissue packed with smell receptors.
   • The Human Change: As our faces flattened to bring our eyes forward for 3D vision, we physically lost the “room” for a large snout.
   • The Genetic “Graveyard”: Humans actually have about 800 genes related to smell, but more than half of them are “pseudogenes”—broken fragments of DNA that no longer work. We carry the blueprints for a great nose, but we’ve stopped building the parts.
2. What We Gained: The “Social” Brain
   • By moving away from a world of smells, we leaned into a world of complex social cues.
   • Face-to-Face Communication: Because our snouts shrank, our facial muscles became more visible and complex. We started relying on micro-expressions (a squint, a lip curl, a raised eyebrow) to communicate status and emotion.
   • Brain Power Reallocation: The energy our bodies saved by not maintaining a massive olfactory system was redirected toward the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain used for planning, logic, and social navigation.
3. Why a Dog’s Nose is a “Time Machine”
   • To understand what we’re missing, look at a Bloodhound. A dog doesn’t just smell “who is here now”; they smell “who was here an hour ago.”
   • A dog’ nose has Up to 300 million receptors compared to our 5 million. It has 40x more brain space dedicated to scent. Slits on the side of their nose circulate air so they never stop “inhaling” scent while we blow away the scent we are trying to smell when we exhale. Our smell weak they can smell “in 3D,” knowing which nostril caught a scent first to track direction.

Even though our sense of smell is “weak,” it is the only sense that bypasses the brain’s main relay station (the thalamus) and goes straight to the amygdala and hippocampus.

This is an evolutionary “relic.” Long before we had complex vision or language, our fish and lizard ancestors relied on smell for survival. This is why a specific perfume or the smell of rain can trigger a vivid, emotional memory instantly—it’s using the “ancient highway” in your brain.

Recent studies suggest humans aren’t actually “that bad” at smelling; we are just differently specialized. We are actually better than dogs at smelling certain plant-based scents (like the smell of ripening fruit or the “earthy” smell of rain), which makes sense given our foraging history!

The Choke Hazard:

We dropped our larynx (voice box) to allow for complex speech, but it created a dangerous “crossroads” where food and air mix. Other mammals can breathe and swallow at the same time; we can’t.

It is a bit of a cosmic joke, isn’t it? We are arguably the most “advanced” species on the planet, yet we are one of the only ones that can die simply by eating a piece of steak too quickly.

This is the ultimate example of evolutionary “tinkering.” Evolution doesn’t care about perfection; it only cares about what works well enough to get you to reproductive age.

In our case, we traded “safe swallowing” for the “gift of gab.”

1. The Low-Hanging Larynx
   • In almost all other mammals—including babies—the larynx (voice box) sits high up in the throat.
   • The Benefit: When a dog or a chimpanzee eats, their larynx can actually lock into the back of their nasal cavity. This creates two separate “pipes”: one for air and one for food. They can literally breathe and swallow at the same time.
   • The Human Change: In adult humans, the larynx dropped much lower down the throat.
2. The Shared “Crossroads”
   • Because our larynx dropped, we ended up with a permanent “four-way intersection” in our throats called the pharynx.
   • The Design Flaw: Every time you swallow, your food has to pass directly over the opening to your lungs (the trachea).
   • The “Safety Hatch”: We rely on a tiny flap of tissue called the epiglottis to slam shut and act as a bridge. If your timing is off—even by a fraction of a second—food “goes down the wrong pipe,” triggering a violent cough or a total blockage.
3. Why Did We Accept This Death Trap?
   • Natural selection would usually “delete” a trait that makes you choke. But we kept it because a lower larynx created a large resonant chamber above the vocal cords.
   • The Speech Expansion: This extra space allows us to produce a massive variety of vowel sounds (A,E,I,O,U). Without that “danger zone” in our throats, we wouldn’t have the vocal range required for complex human language.
   • The Trade-off: We traded the physical safety of separate pipes for the social and intellectual power of speech.
4. The “Baby” Connection
   • Interestingly, human infants are born with their larynx high up, just like other mammals. This allows them to nurse and breathe simultaneously. It only “drops” into the dangerous adult position around the age of two—right when they start learning to speak in sentences.

Other animals can breathe and drink at once. We must stop breathing to swallow. It’s the ultimate “high-risk, high-reward” adaptation. We are literally the only species that risks its life every time it sits down for dinner, all so we can talk about it afterward.

Wrapping Up: “Leftover DNA” – We are all Related

This is where the “paper trail” of evolution becomes undeniable. If our bodies are the physical hardware—full of old parts and “good enough” hacks—our DNA is the source code. And just like a software update, the new code is often just layered on top of the old, messy stuff.

Here is how we know we’re all part of the same biological family tree by looking at the “typos” and “ghosts” in our genome.

1. The “Broken” Vitamin C Gene
   • Almost all mammals can produce their own Vitamin C. You don’t see a dog getting scurvy because their liver just makes it. Humans, however, have to eat fruit or take a supplement.
   • The Evidence: We still have the gene to make Vitamin C (the GULO gene). But in humans and other primates, it’s a pseudogene—it has a specific “typo” that deactivates it.
   • The “Why”: Because our ancestors lived in trees surrounded by fruit, they had so much Vitamin C in their diet that when the gene broke, it didn’t kill them. Natural selection stopped “policing” that gene, and we’ve carried that broken code for 60 million years.
2. Endogenous Retroviruses (ERVs)
   • Think of these as “genomic scars.” Throughout history, certain viruses have infected our ancestors and spliced their own DNA into our eggs or sperm cells.
   • The Proof: About 8% of the human genome is actually made of ancient viral DNA.
   • The Smoking Gun: We share the exact same viral scars in the exact same locations on our chromosomes as chimpanzees. The odds of two different species getting hit by the same virus in the same spot by “accident” are statistically zero. It proves we share a common ancestor who caught that “cold” millions of years ago.
3. The Chromosome 2 Fusion
   • This was the “missing link” in genetics for a long time. Great apes (chimps, gorillas, orangutans) have 24 pairs of chromosomes. Humans only have 23 pairs. If we are related, where did that extra pair go?
   • The Discovery: When scientists mapped the human genome, they found that Human Chromosome 2 is actually two ape chromosomes fused together head-to-tail.
   • The Clue: Chromosomes normally have “caps” at the ends (telomeres) and a “center” (centromere). Human Chromosome 2 has telomere sequences right in the middle and two centromeres. It’s the literal “tape mark” where two pieces were joined.
4. Sonic Hedgehog (SHH)
   • No, really—that’s the name of the gene. It’s a signaling protein that tells an embryo where to put limbs and organs.
   • The Unity: The same “Sonic Hedgehog” gene that tells a shark where to put its fins is the one that tells a human embryo where to put its fingers. We are using the same basic “Lego instructions” that fish were using 400 million years ago.

Why This is Actually Beautiful

When people feel “turned off” by the idea of being related to animals, It’s good to frame it this way:

You aren’t just a “lonely” creation dropped into a random world. You are a living library. You carry the history of the deep ocean, the struggle of the first creatures to breathe air, the agility of the forest-dwellers, and the viral battles of your ancestors—all written in the chemical ink of your DNA.