I'm Thankful I'm Not a Fly

To achieve bliss, break out of conventional ways of thinking

When people talk about “thankfulness” or “gratitude” as a virtue, it usually means something like “to reflect on your fortune relative to other human beings.” So we consider our good health, loving families, or high standard of living. Rarely do family members at the Thanksgiving table ever say that they are thankful for the fact of existence or that they’re a human being in the first place. There are an estimated 17 million flies for each human in the world, yet no one thinks about how fortunate they are not to be buzzing around garbage cans.

If you’re reading this, your life has probably been objectively better than that of at least 99% of humans who have ever existed. Maybe you’ve thought about this, but not about how you could’ve been a fly — whatever that means. We also usually don’t compare ourselves to people in the distant past, even though we compare ourselves to those living today who have it worse. It’s considered normal for a parent to remind children that there are starving kids in Africa who would love to have what’s on their plate, but eccentric to tell them that they are better off than serfs, or nobles for that matter, from the Middle Ages.

Colored image of the bluebottle fly maggot. Source.

What explains this pattern where it’s natural to judge our situation relative to contemporary humans but not past humans or animals? It seems that we are only thankful in relation to those we see as potential competitors or allies in the quest for resources and status. In that sense, thankfulness isn’t about some kind of cosmic understanding in which we praise the almighty or seek humility. It brings us joy because it makes us feel better, or better off, than others, and more confident and secure when interacting with them. Thankfulness can be seen as the flip side of envy, requiring a very specific frame of reference.