What are the differences between the animal world and the human world?

I was returning from a cultural conference, burdened by intellectual, cultural, and humanistic discussions about identity, power, and knowledge. While searching the in-flight entertainment screen for something to engage me until my arrival and return to my accommodation, I honestly found nothing to occupy my time except a BBC documentary about the animal kingdom.

And, quite frankly, I didn’t expect this seemingly casual choice to transform into a moment of profound reflection on my own thinking and inner self.

This scientific documentary about the animal kingdom captivated me with its intricate details: the struggle for water during the dry season, temporary alliances between herds, calculated predation, and seemingly merciless scenes. I witnessed how the strong prey on the weak, how some animals unite against others, and how the boundaries of influence in the forest are drawn much like political maps.

Little by little, I found myself observing not only the animal world, but also a reflection of the human world, with one crucial difference: animals act out of survival, while humans often do much more.

In the forest, a clear rule prevails: survival of the fittest. But this isn’t arbitrary strength; it’s strength conditioned by need. The lion hunts to eat, not to kill for the sake of killing. The wolf attacks within an organized pack, because organization increases the chances of survival. Even conflicts between males during mating season often end in subjugation, not annihilation. There is an economy of violence, an innate restraint limited by hunger or danger. Nature, despite its harshness, doesn’t know excess aggression.

Humans, however, have long since transcended the limits of biological necessity. It’s true that the roots of human conflict lie in need: food, land, security. But history reveals that wars are no longer always about ensuring survival, but rather about domination, expanding influence, and asserting symbolic or ideological supremacy. In the human world, one might kill for an idea, for power, or even for the illusion of superiority. Herein lies the moral distinction: animals are governed by instinct, while humans are, or are supposed to be, governed by reason and values.

Nevertheless, the structural similarities are undeniable. Just as in the animal kingdom, human societies have a hierarchy of power. In herds of elephants or groups of monkeys, there is a leader who asserts his presence through force, wisdom, or both. In human societies, systems of governance are formed on different foundations, but they often reflect a struggle for leadership that, in essence, resembles the struggle for dominance in the wild. However, humans lend their struggle legal or ideological legitimacy, while the legitimacy of animals remains based on direct power.

Alliances are also a common phenomenon. In the wild, some animals unite to confront a greater threat or to secure a bountiful hunt. In international politics, alliances are formed to counterbalance other powers or to protect shared interests. However, animal alliances are temporary, ending when the situation changes, while human alliances can transform into permanent institutions or protracted conflicts if the balance of interests is disrupted.

But there is another, more positive aspect to this comparison. Just as there is conflict in the animal kingdom, there is also care and solidarity. A female elephant protects her calf with the protection of the herd, wolves share food, and birds migrate in organized flocks to minimize individual effort. Cooperation is not an exception in nature, but rather a prerequisite for its continuation. Here, animals and humans converge on a profound point: survival is not achieved through strength alone, but through mutual support.

However, humans possess what animals lack: moral consciousness and the capacity for choice. Animals do not experience injustice or justice as abstract concepts, nor are they held accountable for their actions. Humans, on the other hand, have built their philosophies, laws, and religions on the attempt to restrain their instincts and regulate their impulses. Nevertheless, the troubling question remains: why does humanity, despite its civilization, revert to behaviors closer to the law of the jungle when institutions weaken or the balance of power is disrupted?

Perhaps because, deep down, humans carry their animalistic heritage, yet simultaneously possess the capacity to transcend it. The difference lies not in the existence of instinct, but in how it is managed. If the jungle is governed by the law of survival, then civilization is supposed to be governed by the law of justice. And if animals attack to eat, humans are called to be different, to refrain from killing when there is no necessity, even when they have the power to do so.

While watching that documentary on the plane, I realized that the similarity between the two worlds is not only in their cruelty, but also in their structure: conflict and cooperation, strength and weakness, leadership and subservience. However, the crucial difference lies in the fact that animals do not claim virtue, while humans do. Herein lies our responsibility: either we rise above the law of the jungle, or we reduce our civilization to the level of an instinct we have failed to refine.

Perhaps the more accurate question is not: Is there a similarity or a difference between the animal world and the human world? But rather: Which world do we choose to emulate?

Do we simply rely on the instinct for survival, or do we build a value system that makes power a means of protection, not a tool for subjugation?

It is precisely in this choice that our true humanity is revealed.

Great Middle East Gate