People Are Just Fancy Animals Chasing Snacks

Let’s face it—you’re an animal. Don’t be offended. You might wear deodorant and own an IKEA lamp, but under the surface, you’re just a slightly nervous primate who figured out how to use Google Maps. The raccoon digging in your bin at 3 a.m.? Same energy, just less debt.

We humans love to pretend we’re noble, selfless creatures. Ha! Deep down, you’re motivated by one thing: gains. Not wisdom, not enlightenment, not “the greater good.” Nope. Straight-up, “what’s in it for me?”

Think about it:

• A squirrel doesn’t collect nuts because it enjoys the vibe of autumn. It’s stockpiling like a paranoid prepper.

• A cat doesn’t rub against you because it loves you. It’s running a psychological operation to secure more kibble.

• And you? You don’t go to work every morning because “you love contributing to society.” You go because that sweet, sweet paycheck keeps your Netflix subscription alive.

You Only Help Because You’re Scoring Points

Here’s the brutal truth: people don’t help out of pure kindness. They help because it makes them look good. You don’t donate to charity because you’re losing sleep over penguins. You do it so you can announce, “I care about penguins,” and bask in the warm glow of moral superiority.

It’s image management. Social currency. A dopamine receipt.

Take away the gains—the praise, the likes, the feel-good rush—and suddenly everyone’s “too busy” to help. If kindness came with zero credit, most people wouldn’t lift a single saintly finger. We’re not saints—we’re bargain hunters looking for the best emotional cashback program.

Pavlov Would Be Proud

You’re basically a golden retriever with a LinkedIn profile. Ding! A notification. Ding! A compliment. Ding! Your boss waves a tiny bonus at you. Without those dings, you’d still be in bed wrapped like a spring roll, ignoring society.

And don’t pretend you hit the gym for health. Health is just the cover story. You’re there for the abs, the likes, and the “Wow, you look great!” dopamine buffet. Without the gains, you’d be watching Netflix and calling the walk to the fridge “cardio.”

Here’s the hack: stop pretending you’re altruistic, noble, or powered by pure goodness. Own your inner raccoon. Admit you want the gain—whether it’s money, validation, likes, abs, or clout.

The world runs on selfish kindness. And honestly? That’s fine. It works. Your fake-good-deed gains still produce real benefits. The orphan still gets food. The penguin still gets saved. You still get to post about it. Everyone wins.

So yeah, people only help because they gain. Remove the gain, and watch how fast “kindness” evaporates. But at least we’re all funny about it—Wi-Fi-dependent, caffeine-fueled, ego-polishing animals trying to look holy while chasing snacks.

And let’s be real: that raccoon in the bin? He’s more honest than you are.

SAD but True.