Instant Genius - Why humans are wired to appreciate beauty

Episode Date: October 4, 2026

A late summer sunset, a peaceful, verdant forest, or a Shakespearean sonnet – these are all things that move us emotionally thanks to what we perceive as their beauty. But why is this so, why do environments, art, music, and even ideas move us so emotionally? In this episode, we’re joined by Prof Nicholas Humphrey, an evolutionary psychologist and author, to talk about his latest book, Why Is the World So Beautiful? Our Minds in Search of Nature’s Rhymes. He tells us how our sense of beauty is likely linked to our evolutionary tendency to seek out the patterns found in nature, why the appreciation of beauty seems to be unique to humans, and explains how our sense of beauty is anchored in the way that we try to understand the world we live in. Take your curiosity further with a subscription to BBC Science Focus magazine. Every issue is packed with fascinating insights into the science behind everyday life, the latest breakthroughs and expert analysis, delivered straight to your door. Receive an extra £5 when you subscribe using the code SF5OFF, (minimum spend £20, see full terms and conditions on our website). https://www.ourmediashop.com/bbc-science-focus-magazine-pod30 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The 2006 Chevrolet Equinox, awarded the most dependable compact SUV in the US by J.D. Power is designed for your everyday. And with available all-wheel drive, you can handle your to-do list with total confidence. Start your build at Chevrolet.ca. Details at J.D.power.com. Hello and welcome to Instant Genius, a bite-size master class in podcast form. Every Monday and Friday, you'll hear of world-leading scientists and experts talking about the most fascinating ideas in science and technology today. I'm Jason Goodyear, commissioning editor at BBC Science Focus. A late summer sunset, a peaceful, verdant forest, or a Shakespearean sonnet. These are all things that move us emotionally, thanks to what we perceive as their beauty.

But why is this so? Why do environments, art, music, and even ideas, move us so emotionally? In this episode, we're joined by Professor Nicholas Humphrey. an evolutionary psychologist and author to talk about its latest book. Why is the world so beautiful? Our minds in search of nature's rhymes. He tells us how our sense of beauty is likely linked to our evolutionary tendency to seek out the patterns found in nature,

why the appreciation of beauty seems to be unique to humans, and explains how a sense of beauty is anchored in the way that we try to understand the world we live in. So welcome to the podcast. Thanks so much for joining us. It's a pleasure. So today we're talking about your latest book. Why is the world so beautiful? Our minds in search of nature's rhymes.

So sort of, first off, sort of given the cultural and political landscape we're living in the moment, lots of people are of the opinion that there's an awful lot of ugliness in the world, like too much. So did this sort of swell of opinion over the last few years have anything to do? with your motivation to take this on as a subject? Or was it more kind of an intellectual itch that you wanted to scratch? Well, I wouldn't say it's either of those. It's a topic which has fascinated me

since I first started a PhD in psychology 60 years ago. And early on in my research, I decided that I'd like to do some work on evolutionary aesthetics, how the origins of people's were animal sense of beauty. So in fact, I did start up some experiments with monkeys to see if I could find out what they'd like to listen to or to look at on a screen, thinking boldly that I then understand something about human appreciation of beauty. I may say that experiments were a complete failure, the early ones. I gave the monkeys music or jazz or Bach to listen to.

I gave them abstract paintings to look at more beautiful landscapes. They didn't give a toss for any of it. the only thing I could get them was interested in was pictures of food or pictures of other monkeys. So, you know, that set me back a bit. And I put this project to one side. But I wrote some stuff about the nature of beauty and its possible evolutionary origins. But I went off to work on other topics. And since then I spent most of my research time working on the nature of consciousness and the evolution of intelligence.

But I thought, yes, you're right, there's been a niche. I wanted to get back to that. I thought, if I don't write the book, no, I never will. So that's why I did it. It's, as you'll see, it's quite a short book. There were a lot of illustrations. You can probably read it in a couple of hours or so, but there's quite a lot packed in there. Yeah, so let's have a look at the book then, the meat of the book. So, you know, it's pretty self-evident that we humans do have an inbuilt appreciation for what we call beauty. And I mean, think for the most part, we don't really consider this much. It's just, you know, so it's one of our qualities. But it seems that this is linked in

some way with our connection to the natural world. So we'll see like a beautiful sunset of blue sea, a mountain range, yeah, I don't know, a stag standing in the mist or something and say, oh, well, that's really beautiful. So if we start to think about this from an evolutionary basis, I guess we could propose that these feelings of comfort or peace or belonging when we find find ourselves in a beautiful scene. Down to the fact that maybe they're mostly the environments in which we're most likely to survive and prosper. I mean, is that a good starting point?

Well, it's a starting point. But I think it can't really get us very far. There've been several conventional approaches to the understanding the evolution of beauty and where people, evolutionary psychologists like me, have looked for obvious benefits from being in the presence of beauty. I'll have to say something I think immediately about what I mean by beauty. It's a very wide term and I use it specifically in this book to refer to why we attracted to certain kinds of patterns which please us, which seem right, as if that's how the world ought to be. And the particular relationship, kind of pattern I concentrate on is what the poet General Manly Hopkins defined as a rhyme.

but he used rhyme in a quite important, in a rather general way, not just to mean the rhyme between words. I mean, the cat sat on the mat as a familiar kind of rhyme, but Hopkins identified rhyme in the sky, in the clouds, in flowers, in ideas, basically whatever we come across two or more things which belong together but are yet different from each other, and we're fascinated by their resemblance

and the way in which they belong. Now, it doesn't always mean that's going to strike us as being beautiful. The cat saddle on the mat is not actually particularly beautiful, although if you compare it to the cat sat on the sofa, you can see what's, there's something about the cat saddle on the mat, which seems right, where as the cat sat on the sofa or the cat sat on the cat, doesn't seem to do it for us. So we immediately clued into the fact that we're interested in this relationship

of likeness but with difference. And it becomes much more, and then if we look more generally, and we find this, whenever this is occurring, that we're finding this unattractive and pleasing sort of thing to look at, how to listen to,

or to smell, or to think about, that raises for me a much more general question about why we like those patterns in nature. And you're right, it may be, and I think it clearly is in some cases, because that brings us into the presence of good environments. places which affect for humans to live in, which are going to nourish and support us.

I mean, it's not entirely obvious why a rainbow or particular cloud formation of thunder clouds or, or for that matter, the song of a blackbird will do that for us. It's certainly not obvious why abstract ideas, particular mathematical relationships and ideas between, you know, what seems to where things seem to support each other at an intellectual, academic, abstract level. That's something different. And so I hung on to Hopkins' definition of beauty. It seemed to me he said that all beauty can, by a metaphor, be called rhyme. And from far back, begun realizing that that is an extraordinarily revealing way of looking

at the world and what we find attractive. I kept on finding myself saying, yes, of course, that's why I like that, or like that when previously I'd just noticed they were pretty or lovely or attractive, but I haven't seen the underlying relationships. But what I then wanted to do was to say, well, okay, can we explain that in terms of obvious benefits? And so in the book, I mean, in the book I give lots of examples, and some of them correspond to obvious benefits, the beauty of human bodies, which are well-balanced and healthy and so on, obvious why we like that. I mean, as when we like to have, friends who have rhyming bodies and rhyming characters and rhyming skills and rhyming ways of

talking to us. At another level we like to build structures or to use tools which are balanced and symmetrical and have the same rhyming qualities. They just work well for us and as you say, we like to live in either landscapes or cityscapes which have those sorts of have good proportion and good repetitive patterns in them. But that will only take us so far. And the world is full of an awful lot of beauty, which hasn't no obvious benefit to us at all. And so I began to ask whether, well, look,

we've got some, we've got an explanation of a few of these aspects, but not for the wide world of rhyming patterns. Are these things connected? We seem to have a rhyme detector in our heads, which is continually on the alert looking for that kind of how to. and out there. And in the cases we have investigated, or psychologists investigated, it's interesting

that they almost always correspond to stable or healthy or enduring states. We like bodies which are rhyming because they are healthy and represent a good and successful way of living. We like the same about landscapes. We like the same about lighthouses or buildings for that matter. So rhyme in those cases we have looked at always signals stability, endurance, something which is going to self-supporting structures. Now, why should they all converge on that? Well, the answer I think is because that's how the world works. The world is based on rhyming structures and it's come to be the world we live in because rhyme is in the DNA of the world we live in. It's the things which know, exist are the ones which proved to be stable and to be enduring because they had these internal

relationships. And that's of course true of the natural of the biological world. It's true of plants and animals and so on. It's also true of the geophysical world. It's we find rhymes in the clouds, because rimes clouds which have those particular relationships to each other happen to be stable. we find rhymes in mountains and well pools and so on, or rhymes even in things which you might call ugly, tornadoes and storms. I take your point that the world is not entirely beautiful. There can be patterns which are quite threatening, in which none the less are aesthetically very pleasing. So anyway, to bring, cut this story short, I asked myself, well, is that the answer to right across the board to why we like Ryan. It's because it corresponds to things in the world which

have endured and which are now present and making up the world we inhabit. Why should we like to see those things? Well because it is our world and we need to understand it. I mean imagine a baby born into this world. The world is full of things. The human world is astonishingly full of things in a way probably nowhere else in the universe is. It's something which maybe we can talk about is that other worlds if they exist will not be as populated by things as ours is. But our world is full of things, ranging from, you know, cats and dogs and horses to castles to ideas to the things we've already mentioned out there in nature. And that world is one we have to get to grips with pretty quickly

soon after we're born. We need to form a model of the world. We need to have a way of understanding how things relate to each other and fit together. And the very beginning of that model has to be an inventory of what kind of things are out there. So the task of a young child, the task of a young animal for that matter, is to go out there and try and find out, make a taxonomy of what kind of the things make up its world, its local world. And one way of doing, we need a kind of heuristic. I mean, sorry to use that technical term. We need a rule of thumb for how to try and discover which things belong together and which things don't.

And there is a very simple one. Things which rhyme, on the whole, are likely to belong to the same category of object. One cat rhymes with another cat, one dog rhymes with another dog, one maple leaf rhymes with another maple leaf. And they contrast with other animals or other plants or other objects and so on. The English language contains 83. thousand common nouns, nouns which stand for things in the world. It's a lot to learn about.

We don't all know the names of all of them. We can't all recognize all of them. But from the age of, you know, when we first start, very earliest beginnings of language, we're already acquiring new words for things at a rate of maybe 10 a day. And we do that because we seek out the evidence of what is there in the world,

which connects to each other, where things connect to each other, where they rhyme. And so I see this as a case of us using kind of training set for our minds. The notion of a training set is a rather new one, because, you know, talk about it in relation to artificial large language models and so on, AI. But AIs have to be trained on what's out there. They need to discover what things exist in the language environment, which they're trained on, and they have to, and how that corresponds to the world they may eventually have to navigate, But nobody yet has actually even thought of using in the training of AI, the principle which apparently our ancestors long ago hit on, which is look for things which rhyme.

They're going to be the basis. They're going to be the things which are likely to correspond to interesting kinds of objects out there. And we see lots of evidence in child development of exactly how this works. And why our children take pleasure in discovering the rhymes. The mom, mother shows pictures in a picture book of animals and the baby points his finger at yet another example of a bunny, which rhymes with the bunny he's already seen. And that's the beginning of it. And it builds and builds on the same principle

is exactly why we've come to love the fugues of Bach or the paintings of Cézanne or the patent of the Alhambra. All of them are full of evidence of what belongs together. Now, I said animals, may have to do the same. What's interesting is that animals, I couldn't find much evidence of animals being interested in complex forms of rhyme at all.

I did do some experiments later, which I found that monkeys will actually look for common patterns in pictures of animals which they look at. They'll begin eventually to identify pictures of horses or cows or pigs and contrast them, especially with pictures of monkeys. But we don't find animals looking at the sunset. I should qualify that. There's some evidence that chimpanzees occasionally have been

seen to be apparently staring at the mountains or the distant sunset with a kind of reverence, reverie, as if they were really impressed and just bathing in the qualities of patterns they were seeing. But most animals don't do it. Dogs don't give a toss about sunsets. There's no reason to think birds like bird song, apart from the particular bird songs, which they happened to be tuned into because they indicate the fitness of their own mates and so on. We've gone much further than animals in appreciating the rhymes of nature. And what's more, they seem to move us in ways which we never find in the animal kingdom apart from humans.

And so in this book, having rather quickly raced through some early explanations and come in on the idea that what we're looking for is patterns which help us to understand the world we live in. I then say, yes, but why does it feel so good? What's the nature of the aesthetic emotion, as it's been called by philosophers in the past? It's more than just a cognitive act of bringing things together. In Hopkins's original essay, he has a discussion between a student and the professor, and the professor says, look, I proved it to you now, haven't you, it's all to do with rhyme. And the student says, Yes, sir, but isn't there something more to it than that?

Isn't there something beyond mere rhyme? It all seems too mathematical to me, and I think he's right. And so what I do in the rest of the book is to try and answer what that additional emotional component is. You want a vision. I was an Avenger, but I'm not a hero anymore. On October 14th, the vision return. for the final chapter of the groundbreaking trilogy. That family wasn't real.

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While others follow the noise, We follow the money. Learn more at Bloomberg.com. The emotional impact of experiencing beauty can be really overwhelming. You can cry when you read a poem, listen to music. Even myself, I've been, a few years ago visited a cathedral in Spain and was really overwhelmed by the emotion just because how beautiful the whole thing was. It was a bit embarrassing, actually.

But that got me to thinking, you know, why is that? Because, you know, if we're talking from an evolutionary basis, this sort of might seem superfluous. Well, it is, I think it's, in some sense, it probably is superfluous. I'm not sure we've, that sense of awe you're talking about has actually been built into us by a natural selection. I think it's a consequence of us looking for these kinds of patterns and sometimes being overwhelmed by them. Or is a slightly frightening emotion to feel. It feels, we feel slightly out of control, as if we're in the presence of something we can't understand. Isaac Newton famously said that all his life he'd felt like he was just like a child playing on the seashore, finding one pebble which was pretty as in another,

but all the while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before him. He felt small. He felt humble in the presence of this of a nature which he couldn't quite grasp. And I think we, and awe often does involve the sense of not being able to grasp it. I think or is not entirely a, an adaptive emotion because it can sometimes make us say, well, okay, that's it. I don't expect to understand. It's all too big for me. I'm too small and I'll hide away and let, let, let, the maker of all this simply dictate the terms of the world I live in. I don't think that's a useful approach. I think, thank goodness, humans all along don't give in to those feelings of being humble in the face of nature.

They want to know how it works. And so we want to take control. We want to understand and the real pleasures come out of seeing, that's how it works. That's how things fit together. That's why things around us have fallen into place in the way they do. And that's the whole nature of science is to make these discoveries. But the question is, as I said, we use the term, it just feels right. And one of the emotions we certainly feel, I think, is something like gratitude.

And our gratitude is a social emotion. Why should we feel gratitude to the mountains or the sky or the, or for that matter, the mathematical equations which we discover in school and which suddenly seem to be overwhelmingly unnecessarily pretty and right for us? And I think it's a good question because what I think, where I think it leads us is to the idea that wherever we find beauty, we think there must be an artist of some kind behind it. Now, many art critics have claimed that it's only when we can detect the hand of an artist behind something that we really find it beautiful, that we experience what Clive Bell called the right aesthetic emotion. He called it when we detect significant form. And that's when he said we can channel, as it were,

the emotions of the artist who made the thing, which is now before us. And we can feel what he did or she did and understand why they made the decisions and why the decisions they made are so right and proper, why we wouldn't want to take anything away from it. The great art critic Ernst Gombrich said that in the end, all artists want to do is to get it right. Now that's a very interesting concept to get it right, but we kind of know what

they mean when things are balanced and now seem to be stable and rest in the situation they've come to. But if an artist has to be involved for us to feel that kind of emotion, it's a bit of a puzzle here. And Clive Bell grasped it and said outright, well, sometimes, of course, there isn't an artist when I go out into nature and into the forest and think it's beautiful or when I see a rainbow and think it's beautiful. I can't really be thinking it's beautiful because I can't be relating to the artist. And he says who has ever felt the same kind of emotion for a forest canopy that you feel for a cathedral as you were just describing. Well, the answer is I have and I think you have. I think forest canopies and mountain ranges and sunsets can have quite the quality of

short cathedral or of a painting by Cézanne. And so we need to explain this. And there's an explanation which is always waiting in the wings, which is, okay, if we need to feel grateful or feel we're in the presence of an artist before we'll feel that emotion, then it must be that when we're out in nature, we do feel we're in the presence of an artist. And that comes back to a very old idea, which is that human beings are natural-born creationists. However, skeptical they may be intellectually at some level. I mean, I'm an atheist. I don't believe in a creator God, and so on.

But nonetheless, since I was born, I like everyone else, have always thought, yes, but it's as if there's an artist there. And a supreme artist, whoever there's design in nature, what I feel is, that I'm in the presence of an artist who has known knows what they're doing and has got it right and has got it right in order to convey to me what rightness means so I find myself I mean I'm thinking that in the end the responsibility is a social one I feel kind of grateful and and and pleased to be in the presence of this of this superior imaginative designer who has has made the world first, even though intellectually, rationally, I don't believe that there is any such independent artists out there.

But nonetheless, it's an unavoidable instinct, I think. And so I think it's central to our appreciation of beauty. And it's a reason I think why dogs don't admire sunsets. I don't think they think they think there is an artist behind them. I'm quite certain that honeybees don't, when they go see a field of clover, they may be very satisfied that their next meal of pollen is going to be out there for them, but they don't think, gosh, and who put it there, and why is it there? And how come I deserve to live in a world where there's fields of clover?

I think we can't help but feel that. There's more beauty out there than in a way we deserve. And part of what my book is trying to do is to say, why do we feel that and what could lie behind it? And in the end, I argue that there is more beauty, not than we deserve, but more beauty than we might reasonably expect. Precisely because the world has evolved to be made of things. It may be such an obvious thing to say. I mean, maybe you've never thought about it. Why are there so many things up there in the world?

It's only because of the forces of evolution and the forces of physics and the laws of physics, which have come together to create a world which is more and more full of rhyming objects. And it goes on happening. You know, go back to the big bang and it's all just one big slurry of field forces. Out of that, it can to emerge molecules and compounds and then life emerge and animals and plants emerged. then eventually humans arrived and they started making things which all rhyme with each other. And so it goes on, of course, also even at the level of ideas. And I think one of the wonderful consequences of that is that we're never going to be finished.

There's never going to be a point at which we've done the job of understanding in a way which ends the quest. And therefore, the world is always going to be more and more beautiful for us. We've always got more more to discover up there and more to contemplate. and to be grateful for if I can use that word. So we're lucky enough now, we can go to museums and galleries and see artworks, say in some cases that are thousands of years old. And when you do do that, you think, well, you know,

our notions of beauty really haven't changed that much. Well, in some senses, of course, they haven't. I mean, look at the paintings on the walls of caves in France of Chauvier and London. go and so on, made 30, 40,000 years ago by our ancestor artists. They strike us as beautiful as anything which you could find in a contemporary art gallery, in fact, more beautiful in some ways. So yes, those artists and the people who encouraged them to make the art must have found the same things beautiful. There are other areas where I think tastes really are not so common. I mean music is perhaps an example. There are forms of music which

are just, some cultures in the world really don't appreciate the kind of music, classical music which we enjoy, we don't necessarily understand or appreciate the kind of music they make and so on. But that's, it's easy to explain that because, as I said, we were looking for how the things in our world are made. We adapt our understanding to the things which we encounter, and we have to learn how they work. I think there's many examples all of us have had when it comes to works of art where we didn't, really find them beautiful because we didn't understand them and it has we have to learn we have to have it explained so that we begin to see what's going on where we didn't grasp it before it's obvious in a sense in the way in which we've all grown up into appreciating modernism i mean even you know

most children don't have a clue about why no one should like modern art and they need to be educated if i i don't mean that in a kind of condescending way but they have to see what the artist meant by it and why he or she made those choices. And so we find people taking particular specialties and finding becoming connoisseurs of particular kinds of patterns and particular areas of art. And not only of art, but of other things. People can become connoisseurs of the natural world, of course.

They can become collectors of beetles or butterflies or birds' eggs and devote their whole life to just appreciating the patterns in just that one relatively small domain. Or in the non-natural world, we can become obsessed by postage stamps or letter boxes or whatever it may be. And I know, I mean, philosophers don't like me using the word aesthetic about that, but I think the emotion which a stamp collector can feel

when he sees how the stamps he's brought together, fit together into all the different patterns involving nationality value, technique they were made, the age of them and so on. There's endless things to explore that, endlessly more things to discover. And as the great physiologist, Ivan Pavlov said a long time ago, and it can drive people mad. I mean, people can devote their whole lives to looking for patterns, to the neglect of everything else. I was amused to find a quotation in newspaper by someone who was talking about aerospotters. Aerospotters are not so common as it used to be,

but if you're going to Heathrow Airport 3040 years ago, you'd find the roofs thronged with people with notebooks, jotting down the numbers of the planes which were arriving. And the director of this, the end of this shop for aerospotters said, there are some people who do nothing else than Aerospot. They're not married or anything like that. Now, that's fairly not entirely adaptive. I mean, someone who does nothing other than Aerospace

and isn't married or anything like that is probably destined for extinction. So here's a case where an evolved tendency has gone off the rails. But again, we shouldn't be surprised. Lots of our evolved tendencies can go wrong when presented with super stimuli, as we might call them. Postage symptoms or R in a sense

or birds eggs can seem to be. to us super similarly, just as pornography can. And so people can, instead of exploiting their sex delurges in ways which are, of course, adaptive, can become completely hooked on forms of sex which actually aren't adaptive at all. No nature took some risks in designing us the way she did, and, or natural selection, I should say, and it sometimes goes wrong. But on the whole, these search for patterns are delight we take in finding new examples, in bringing them together in collections, in becoming connoisseurs of that particular field,

is what's driven us to the extraordinary lengths of intellectual excitement and adventure, which has been characteristic of human species. And without beauty, I think we never have got there. Yeah, so just one final question then. You mentioned AI there earlier. And so there's a huge debate about AI, well, all in all, in all, most to all areas of life and culture at the moment. But particularly with art, you know, a lot of people are saying, well, AI will never be able to

create art, never be able to create, you know, by extrapolating that, anything, you know, genuinely beautiful of worth like a human artist can or like nature can. I mean, what's your take on that? Well, I think it's snobbishness, I have to say. I think it's just wrong. I think AI has done and will create great works of art, which we will continue, or some people will continue to deride, because they haven't got the hand of a human artist behind them. And therefore, as far I said, of nature, it can't really be beautiful if there's no artist involved. But there's been experimental work recently, which has shown that if you trick people into believing that a work of art made by AI is actually the work of a human artist,

they will appreciate it and maybe as a major work and be very moved by it. If you trick them into saying, into believing that a human work of art made by a major human artist was actually made by a machine, they'll say, well, yeah, I can see it's pretty, but it doesn't really mean anything, and it doesn't move me in any way. So it all depends how we look at them. And just as, as I said, when we look out in nature and believe there's an artist there, when there really isn't, it allows us to find it beautiful. I think we'll find AI constructions beautiful and should do because AI is unbelievably inventive. I mean, and it's also got a training

set which goes beyond anything any of us can ever hope to have. So I'm not worried that AI is taking art down the wrong path. I think I'm worried about the way in which it may be making it difficult for other, for real human artists to make a living. And that's an entirely separate issue and the one which we need to think about at a social level and make sure that is, as a, no doubt at the moment, still is a role for great artists to go beyond anything AI can do at the moment. But AI will certainly, is already writing beautiful music. And let's not try and write it off as just AI. Thank you for listening to

this episode of Instant Genius, brought to you from the team behind BBC Science Fakers. That was Professor Nicholas Humphrey. To discover more about the topics we've just discussed, check out his book. Why is the world so beautiful? Our minds in search of nature's rhymes. If you'd like to what you just heard, then please do consider subscribing to Instant Genius on your preferred podcast platform. If you'd like to see our guests and hosts in person, then why not check out our YouTube

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Like Natopa, the guardrail for children's beds. Natopa means giving your favorite person room to grow. It means their safety and your piece of... No. In Swedish, Natapa means night monkey. He's back. Ikea, 50 years of Swedishness at home. Look, he's wearing little pajamas. So cute.

From the studio that brought you WandaVision. I was an Avenger, but I'm not a hero anymore. On October 14th, the Vision returns for the final chapter of the groundbreaking trilogy. That family wasn't real. You sure about that? I had a father called Vision. How is this possible? Don't miss the two-episode premiere of Marvel Television's Vision Quet.

Nothing bonds a family together quite like Mortal Jeopardy. Streaming October 14th, only on Disney Plus.