How To Catch a Mammoth

In the heart of the vast and untamed land of Kaelan, nestled between towering mountains and sprawling grasslands, lived the resilient and resourceful tribe of the Ahn-Mara. Their lives were deeply intertwined with the rhythms of nature. Hunting was a sacred duty for the Ahn-Mara people, a test of skill and endurance. Their prey was a mighty mammoth, a colossal beast of the Ice Age.

One spring, the tribe settled for a few months near a well-worn path across the meadow where mammoths regularly traveled to the river. The tribe realized they could set a trap along this path to catch a mammoth for food.

Naturally, digging such a large trap would take a lot of time and effort. Tribesmen, just as nature dictates to all living creatures, were looking for an easier way to catch a mammoth. Eventually, they found a large, naturally occurring hole. Even though it was not on the mammoths’ usual path, some of the hunters suggested waiting and seeing — maybe a mammoth that wandered away from the group would accidentally fall in.

The idea fascinated Tamin, one of the tribe’s younger hunters. He couldn’t stop thinking about the hole that nature had already prepared. It looked so perfect. Lacking the patience and experience of his older peers, Tamin spent more and more time watching the pit from a distance, dreaming of the feast, hoping against hope that a mammoth would eventually stumble into the pit, against all odds (pun intended).

Tamin’s older brother, Bakar, knew better. He wouldn’t waste his energy on a random trap. Instead, he focused on the strategic location where the mammoths were most vulnerable. Each morning, as the first rays of sun touched the horizon, Bakar would wake up with a surge of determination.

Today, we know that his brain, primed by the promise of a successful hunt, released a burst of dopamine, the neurotransmitter associated with reward and motivation. This surge drove him towards the well-worn mammoth trail to dig a deep trap. With each swing of his crude digging tool, Bakar felt a sense of purpose, driven by the potential reward of a successful hunt. The anticipated feast, the praise of his tribe, and the boost to his status were all powerful motivators.

Interestingly enough, if we dig deeper, we’ll find a perfectly valid reason for Tamin’s decision to wait by the ready-made hole. Nature is constantly seeking ways to optimize resource usage. From the single-celled organism to complex ecosystems, all living creatures develop behaviors (and even adapt their bodies) to minimize energy expenditure while maximizing survival benefits. In other words, we look for shortcuts, automate tasks, and develop technologies to reduce effort.

This is evident in everything from mammoth hunting to artificial intelligence. Just sometimes this drive for efficiency is distorted. Gambling is a stark example. The belief that something can be gained with minimal effort often leads to dire consequences.

While the challenges of modern life have replaced the simplicity of the hunt, the underlying principles in our brains remain the same. Just like in the prehistoric Kaelan, Bakars of the 21st century make sustained effort of setting a trap in the right place, while Tamins follow their hopeful tactic of waiting for a random event of a mammoth falling into a pit. Paradoxically, they’re both driven by the very same dopamine reward system.

As strange as it may sound, I believe that Bakar and Tamin reside within us all, constantly vying for dominance, reflecting the eternal conflict between the disciplined pursuit of goals and the seductive promise of effortless gain.

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This was one of my earlier attempts to connect evolutionary behavior, dopamine, gambling, and the human attraction to shortcuts. Looking back, I would make the argument more direct today, but I still like the central image of Bakar and Tamin as two competing tendencies within us.

The story was first published on Medium on February 1, 2025.