Anthropocentrism
We instinctively see the world through a human-first lens, treating everything else as secondary.
What it means
Anthropocentrism is the deep-seated tendency to view the world as though humans are at the centre of it - the most important species, the default reference point, the measure of all things. It's so baked into our thinking that most of us don't even notice it. We evaluate animals by how useful or entertaining they are to us. We treat ecosystems as resources to be exploited. We judge intelligence in other species - and in artificial intelligence - by how closely it resembles our own.
This isn't surprising. We are human, and seeing the world from our own perspective is natural. But natural isn't the same as accurate. Anthropocentrism creates blind spots. It makes it harder to appreciate the intrinsic value of other living things, harder to think in systems rather than hierarchies, and harder to recognise when our actions are causing damage to things we depend on but don't pay attention to.
The consequences are tangible. Environmental destruction, biodiversity loss, and the climate crisis all have roots in a worldview that treats the natural world as a support act for the human story. Understanding anthropocentrism doesn't mean rejecting the human perspective - it means expanding it.
In the real world
When a species is threatened with extinction, the argument for saving it almost always focuses on what it does for us: its role in pollination, its potential for medical research, its value to the tourist industry. The idea that a species might have intrinsic value - that it might matter simply because it exists - rarely gets a look in. Even our conservation efforts are filtered through the question: "but what's in it for humans?"
The thought to hold onto
You don't have to stop being human-centred. But noticing when you're being human-centred - and asking what you might be missing - is one of the most useful things you can do.