He had spent the afternoon highlighted passages about "theory of mind"—the human brain’s relentless habit of attributing intentions to everything. Bering argued that we don't just see a storm; we see an angry sky. We don't just see a coincidence; we see a "sign."
But as he walked home, the streetlights flickered in a rhythmic pulse. His mind immediately raced to his grandfather, who had passed a month ago. Is that you? the thought bloomed before he could stop it. The Belief Instinct: The Psychology of Souls, D...
"It’s just condensation and gravity," he whispered to himself, echoing Bering’s cold, evolutionary logic. He knew the theory: his brain was an "overactive agency detection device." It was a survival mechanism left over from ancestors who survived because they assumed the rustle in the tall grass was a lion with a plan, not just the wind. He had spent the afternoon highlighted passages about
Jesse looked out the window. A heavy rain was beginning to lash against the glass. He felt that familiar tug in his chest, the one that wanted to say, The universe is crying with me. His mind immediately raced to his grandfather, who
The lecture hall was modern—all brushed steel and ergonomic curves—but Jesse felt like he was sitting in a cathedral of the old world. On his lap sat a well-worn copy of Jesse Bering’s The Belief Instinct .