The current war landscape is rekindling one of the fundamental questions in biology, philosophy and ethics: is Homo sapiens a violent species? 

 This is a complex issue that has given rise to conflicting schools of thought. On the one hand, some argue that evil is inherent in human nature. On the other hand, there are others who attribute the aggressiveness of Homo sapiens to behaviours that are learned or influenced by the socio-cultural context. 

 In anthropology, we can explore this question by examining instances of aggression-related deaths that have marked the history of our species since its inception. We can then compare these occurrences with the levels of lethal interactions observed in other animals, particularly those closely related to us. 

A comparative study published in Nature in 2016, which looked at over 1,000 mammal species, predicted a 2% mortality rate from interpersonal violence for our species. A percentage similar to that obtained by analysing the historical data of more than 600 populations of Homo sapiens from prehistoric times to the present day. 

This 2% is very similar to the figure for the vast majority of primates, which suggests that our violence may be a shared heritage in our evolutionary history with other social mammals. In any case, this number is to be expected for the kind of animal we are. In other words, this means our level of violence wouldn't exceed that of primates. This is in no way an attempt to minimise its gravity, but rather to place it in the broader context of the animal kingdom. 

 Living in groups can lead to conflict 

 One of the main factors that seems to condition these violent interactions is our social nature: living in groups can lead to conflict and competition for resources, whereas this is rarely recorded in species with solitary lifestyles. 

 The study also explains that the levels of violence have fluctuated significantly depending on factors such as the population, historical periods and the specific socio-cultural context of each group. This variability affects the likelihood that this aggressive instinct will change across cultures. 

 If we also look at the actual number of homicide deaths, the figure is around 6 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. This means that around 0.006% of the world's population dies from conspecific violence (at the hands of another individual within the same species). 

There are particularly deadly periods, especially those marked by large-scale violence involving at least one state, or civil or colonial conflicts, which can result in the ruthless elimination of an entire group. The prime example of the first case was World War II, which killed 2-3% of the world's population, with some countries losing up to 20% of their population. With regard to civil conflicts, the recent genocide in Rwanda, which resulted in more than 800,000 deaths, is a prominent example. 

 Even during these exceptionally horrific periods, the percentage of humans who die at the hands of fellow humans does not typically exceed the predicted rate for a primate. 

 Interpersonal violence  

Deaths due to interpersonal violence account for less than 1% of all causes of death, compared with more than 90% of deaths due to disease and almost 10% of traumatic deaths (accidents, suicides, maternal and infant complications related to childbirth).  

These numbers do not include other forms of indirect violence or aggression that do not necessarily result in the death of the individual (torture, abuse, discrimination, malnutrition). However, in the light of these figures, it is difficult to conclude that violence defines our species (which, I reiterate, does not minimise its gravity). 

 Certain forms of violence can be seen as adaptive when they prove advantageous for acquiring resources (food, partners, space), especially when they are scarce. This utility may explain their persistence, even though such behaviour is inherently destructive and seems at odds with demographic success. But overall, Homo sapiens were not born to kill.  

Certainly, war requires training, not only physical but also psychological, to dehumanise and kill  the enemy. The development of artillery and missile weapons, which hs given our species the ability to inflict harm from a distance, has undoubtedly made it more difficult to overcome our innate inhibitory mechanisms against violence. Because eyes that do not see (or see at a distance) do not feel (or feel less). 

Empathy and compassion do not make the news. 

 The reality is that the number of peaceful interactions and gestures of empathy and compassion that happen every day far outweigh incidents of violence. Yet these instances rarely make the news. They don’t make the news because a single avoidable, premature, cruel or unnatural death tends to overshadow the series of silent, charitable or simply tolerant actions that underpin a species that is made up of very different individuals. 

 Acts of kindness often go unreported in the news because it is the norm for our species to show respect, patience, and trust in various aspects of our lives, whether we're relying on the expertise of a doctor, a transporter, a cook, a teacher or a caregiver, even if we don't know them personally. The news tends to cover acts that we find atrocious or unacceptable - cruelty, infanticide, torture, rape - because in the collective outcry and coverage there is an implicit condemnation and rejection of such behaviour. 

 I do not wish to downplay the brutality of any violent death, but I do want to warn against the danger of adopting a mindset of passive resignation. We cannot allow ourselves to be discouraged by the unsubstantiated idea that our species is inherently evil, without proper evidence. 

 In times of crisis and social discouragement, it may be time to preach optimism. 

Cover photograph: Bonobos (Pan paniscus) fighting in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Africa. Sergey Uryadnikov/Shutterstock