Humans are Slow, Weak, and Squishy – Why Do We Survive? #wildlife #evolution
I live on the edge of the Gila National Forest. My neighbors include bears, bobcats, coyotes, an occasional mountain lion, and once (I’m pretty sure) I saw a wolf. Yet I walk the forest every day in safety. Why haven’t I been eaten?

Even more interesting from an historical perspective, why weren’t my ancestors eaten?
Like our ape relatives, our ancestors probably responded to a predator by joining together, making a lot of noise, throwing things (including feces) and jumping around like crazy creatures. Maybe it was often easier to pursue less rude prey.
What about our wonderful bipedal stance?
Bipedalism may make humans appear bigger [taller] and therefore more threatening. “It’s sort of like a bluff. It’s like, ‘I’m walking around; I’m tough; I’m showing where I am on a landscape.'” Predators see the upright stance and assume humans are tougher than we actually are. John Hawks, a paleoanthropologist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison
The need to leave humans alone got more urgent as we developed weapons, and perhaps today, generations of wildlife mommas have taught their offspring to avoid us. Also, we’ve made war on predators for centuries, and we’re winning. Their numbers are way down, so there are fewer chances for a human to become prey. Studies show that, in America, only an average of eight people are killed directly by wildlife each year, some by snakes. Snakes usually freeze and let us stomp on by, so bites are a clumsy accident. (Unless the snake is spotted and alcohol is involve. Alcohol consumed by the humans, that is, not the snake.) Car collisions with wildlife kill more people, and I could argue that’s humanity’s fault.
So I continue to hike in the Gila Forest without carrying even a pointy stick, secure in the knowledge that humanity’s terrorizing of predators past and present keeps me safe. If I catch a glimpse of a bear or a coyote, I consider it my lucky day. But I do give skunks the right-of-way.