endangered animals

I feel weird about endangered animals. On one hand, we are supposed to save them. On the other hand, a real one could eat us, and most likely did in pre-modern times.

As weird as I feel about this, I am sure that the endangered animals feel much weirder. After all, they were once our predators and could still destroy most of us in a fair fight. And yet now, they rely on us to save them from extinction.

Although I am sure that the animals appreciate our efforts to preserve their species, I am also sure we come off as a little patronizing. I mean, imagine if creature we currently prey on were suddenly so powerful that we relied on its mercy for our survival. Like if a lab accident created a form of intelligent, giant cow that grazed on houses and fast food restaurants, completely demolishing civilization as we knew it. And if a faction of those house-destroying giant cows decided they wanted to preserve our species by rebuilding mediocre houses in a poorly conceived fashion.

If that happened, we'd be all, "Man, I wish I didn't have to be grateful to those giant cows. Wasn't there a time when we ATE those cows?"

Guess what? That's probably how endangered animals feel. Awkwardly grateful. Belittled but thankful. Someday, when they finally out-populate humans and can again prey on us, they will be fully happy. But for now, they will have to content themselves with grumbling about us behind our backs.

The Deserted Island Test

I live in constant fear of being marooned on a deserted island. It influences a lot of my everyday thinking.

The only time this paranoia has worked in my favor is when I think about careers. This line of thinking has led me to a career-choosing method called "the deserted island test." I use the deserted island test to help many of my fellow confused twenty-somethings when they ask me for career advice. Here is how it works.

 Alternately:

It seems silly, but many careers that are useful on a deserted island are generally useful in modern society. There are exceptions, but many of these jobs correlate well with good job security and salary. Plus, if you get marooned on a deserted island, you'll be an asset to the community of survivors.

Here are some examples of jobs my friends have considered, and how they fare with the deserted island test and other positive job attributes.

A note to all satisfied lawyers and plumbers and all unsatisfied ninjas: this chart may not apply to you.

 Note that, if we apply this graph to Gilligan's Island characters instead of jobs, the result is a little different:

Gilligan's island of uselessness.

Anyhow.
If a career fails the deserted island test, it does not mean that you should not do it. There are many successful creative professionals. There are many happy lottery winners. If you do not want to be a ninja or a doctgineer, that is okay. The deserted island test takes an exception if the following occurs.

If your response is "unicycling/writing/rockstaring will always find a way," then nothing else is going to do it for you except for that thing. If this is your philosophy, congratulations-- you may have the inner drive to be the best unicycler/writer/rockstarer ever. Screw survival rates. Do what you love, and be really, really good at it.

Hooray!

Here's a bonus flowchart of the deserted island test, in case you want to administer it yourself.

[Update: I fixed the flowchart to be better. Hooray!]