The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human (2012) by Jonathan Gottschall

Malcolm Gladwell has made a fortune writing books like this, stitching together a compelling and comprehensive narrative on phenomena like social virality (“Tipping Point”), deep understanding of subject matter (“Blink”) and exceptional performance (“Outliers”). Gladwell delivers virtually no original research in any of these books. But what he does with genius is make all the existing material on the topic clear, coherent, and comprehensible, somehow turning it all into a ripping good yarn. In “The Storytelling Animal”, English professor Jonathan Gottschall tackles a topic more ambitious and, I would argue, more profound than anything Gladwell has done to date: “How Stories Make Us Human.”

Hobbes and Locke argued that “reason” is what makes us human. For Nietzsche it is the ability and willingness forsake self-preservation, to risk our lives over a matter of prestige. Gottschall argues here that it is our storytelling — an innate, biological need for narrative in many aspects of our lives — that makes us unique and so special. The evidence of “story” – a plotline with a predictable focus on overcoming obstacles or wrestling with conflict – is everywhere around us, the author says, and it isn’t mere whimsy or non-sensical; rather it is evolutionary and biological process designed to help us learn and survive.

For instance, play is the “work” of children – and it’s both gender specific (despite cultural changes) and usually dark and violent for both boys and girls, albeit in different ways. The central theme is that make believe and storytelling is a natural way to prepare children for adulthood. And once we reach adulthood we continue to grow and learn through story – only this time through fiction. Gottschall compares books and movies to a military flight simulator: it prepares us for the turbulent scenarios we may face in real life. Thus, just like play for children, fiction is essentially a form of emotional “play” that allows our brain to experience all the thrills of life in edgy situations without the physical repercussions of fighting wars or sleeping with other men’s wives.

But it doesn’t end with classic make believe. The author says that the need for stories and the lessons they bring are brought to us every night of the week – through our dreams. He says that dreams are similar to child’s play and adult fiction in that the storylines are usually dark, dominated by recurring problems, trouble, and fear.

Even in our everyday, waking and working lives we have an irrepressible need to “fill in the blanks.” If given limited information, we tend to make a comprehensible story out of what we have. The mind tries to see meaning and narrative in everything, which helps explain conspiracy theories, among other things, according to Gottschall, including religion. Religion is part of the human need for a narrative, a need for explanation, an abhorrence of a vacuum. What was most interesting to me is that “religion” is a human universal – all known societies have had gods – and that it may be because such beliefs are positive from an evolutionary perspective (Gottschall claims to be agnostic, but sees the evolutionary value of organized religion): it establishes a group, sets up group norms, and then establishes a powerful incentive system to adhere to the norms, both positive (salvation) and negative (eternal damnation). He suggests that the power of religion has extended to national narratives, most of which, according to the author, take on the theme of myth (e.g. Columbus, Squanto, Washington and the apple tree – or more morbidly, Nazi Germany) to promote an idealized view of moral behavior. Finally, the Gottschall writes that fiction, far from being immoral on a general level, has traditionally promoted cultural norms and usually reinforce moral behavior.

The power of story is staggering, Gottschall says. The ink of “The Illiad” propelled Alexander on his epic conquests; “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” helped ignite the US Civil War; Wagner’s opera “Rienzi” started Hitler on his path. Storylines are, indeed, powerful, as David Galula argued in his classic treatise on counter-insurgency warfare. The winner in any civil conflict is likely to be the side that possesses the most powerful, convincing narrative.

Gottschall is really on to something here. It’s a fascinating topic and I am in complete concord with his general thesis that storytelling is integral to being human and, on balance, it is an incredible positive force in our lives. That said, I felt that Gottschall’s work suffers the most, quite ironically, from a poorly crafted narrative in telling the story of narrative. “The Storytelling Animal” lacks the grace and memorability – the “sizzle” if you will – of a Gladwell book. Reading this book is like grabbing a fist full of sand. You can’t possibly hold on to it all and the harder you try to grip what remains only makes it fall faster from your hand. I really hope Gladwell chooses this topic next…