Ah, my child, come sit by the fire. Let me tell you a story from the old times, from when the world was young, and the animals roamed freely, just as humans do today. You see, long ago, in the heart of the forests, there was a time when creatures lived by instincts alone. The mighty lions ruled with their strength, the wolves in packs, and the birds soared in the sky without a care. But among them, there was one creature—small and clever—the ape, who would become something far greater.
Now, this ape wasn’t the fastest, nor the strongest. No, what he had was a mind full of tricks, full of thoughts and plans. He watched the world around him, learning to climb the highest trees to avoid danger, and picking the ripest fruit to fill his belly. Over time, the ape grew cleverer and cleverer, and soon he began to change. He stood taller, his hands grew deft, and he walked on two feet. Yes, my child, this clever ape would become what we know today as humans.
But here’s where the story gets interesting, dear one. Though the humans had left the forests, the instincts of the ape never left them. Oh no, they carried them into the cities, the great towers they built to touch the sky. And these humans, just like their ape ancestors, still jostled for power, fought for dominance, and gathered in groups to survive. Only now, they did it in strange places they called “offices.”
In these offices, you’d find humans doing the oddest things. They sat at desks, shuffling papers and staring into glowing boxes all day. But the old ape ways were still there, hidden under their polite smiles and handshakes. Some humans, like the leaders of the ape tribes, would try to rise above the others—gathering followers, making allies, and outsmarting their rivals. They would give orders, and others would listen, but all the while, they were just as much in a struggle as their ancestors.
This is what the wise man Richard Conniff speaks of in his tales. He tells us that no matter how fancy humans have become, with their shiny offices and their clever machines, they are still, at heart, the same creatures of old. They still crave power, seek to belong to a tribe, and fight to survive in ways they hardly understand themselves.
But the story doesn’t end there, my child. You see, the humans also learned something else, something that made them different from the apes of old. They learned that to survive, they didn’t always need to fight or scheme. Sometimes, they could work together—help each other climb, just as the old tribes of apes once did in the thick jungles.
And so, my dear, this is the tale of the ape in the corner office. A story as old as time itself, dressed up in new clothes, but still beating with the same wild heart that once lived in the jungle. Perhaps one day, they will understand what they’ve carried with them, and they’ll find a way to balance the cleverness of their minds with the kindness of their hearts.
Ah, but that, my child, is a story for another night...