In A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman traces the origins of human sense perception to the evolutionary past, showing how modern human senses have been inherited from ancestors whose lives depended on their ability to interpret environmental cues. Our sensory preferences, physiological design, and instinctual reactions are portrayed as living legacies of a time when finding food, avoiding predators, and securing mates were the immediate and constant business of life. This evolutionary lens reveals that even sensory experiences dedicated to aesthetic pleasure are underwritten by ancient, practical imperatives.

The book establishes the primacy of this utility by tracing the very origins of the human brain to the sense of smell. Ackerman identifies smell as “the first of our senses” (20), so essential to early survival that it served as the neurological scaffold for higher consciousness. She explains that the cerebral hemispheres, the seat of complex thought, “were originally buds from the olfactory stalks. We think because we smelled” (20). For early nomadic humans, smell was an indispensable tool for locating food, detecting the approach of a predator, or identifying a receptive mate. This direct link between a basic sense and the development of the brain illustrates that our capacity for abstract thought is built upon a foundation of pragmatic sensory engagement with the world. Ackerman portrays smell as the most primal of the senses and the one that most directly connects humanity to nature. As such, she suggests that this sense is in danger of being lost as technology isolates humanity from nature. This loss, she argues, would be an emotional blow to the species: “We don’t want to be cut off from the realms of nature that survived by smell” (55). Though smell is less practically important for modern humans than the other senses, Ackerman frames it as a vital link to our deep evolutionary history. 

Ackerman further grounds her argument in human physiology, pointing to features that betray our ancestral role in the food chain. The placement of our eyes, for example, is a giveaway. She notes that most predators have forward-facing eyes that provide the binocular vision necessary for sighting and tracking prey, whereas prey animals have eyes on the sides of their heads for peripheral awareness. Our own anatomy aligns with the predator model, a reminder that our way of seeing the world was honed for the hunt. This biological evidence suggests that our visual system is a tool designed for a specific and often violent purpose rooted in survival.

Beyond anatomical structure, Ackerman highlights instinctual behaviors that underscore the evolutionary importance of the senses. The sense of touch, she demonstrates, is not merely a source of comfort but a biological necessity for development. She cites studies showing that premature infants who are regularly massaged gain weight significantly faster than those left untouched. This human need is mirrored throughout the mammalian world, where maternal grooming and physical contact trigger essential growth hormones in offspring. This instinct to touch and be touched is a deeply ingrained survival strategy, ensuring the health of the young and, by extension, the continuation of the species. Thus, from the architecture of our eyes to the instinct to cuddle a newborn, our senses function as a constant, living connection to our evolutionary history.