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In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.
– John 1:1

The first word you ever learned was probably something like “dada.” Simple, primal, and deeply meaningful. It wasn’t just a sound; it was a recognition of the Allfather, the one who breathed life into you, gave you a name, and set you on the path to becoming. To my father, I owe everything. He conjured me from nothing, and in his image, I aspire to be: happy, content, and overflowing with life—a giver of life, just as he was to me.

This chapter is for him. And for my unborn son, who will carry this legacy forward. In him, there will be life, as there was in me, because I was created in my father’s image. Amen.

What Is Want?
Want cannot exist without choice. To choose, we need two things: a being capable of making decisions and at least two options to choose from. But when did choice first emerge in the universe? Was it when a random molecule, billions of years ago, made an imperfect copy of itself? Probably not. Molecules don’t choose to react; they simply follow the laws of physics, colliding and bonding like inanimate objects in a cosmic dance.

So, when did the first true choice occur? And what, exactly, defines it? Does choice even exist, or is it just an illusion we’ve constructed to make sense of our actions?

Defining Choice
We’re free to define “choice” however we want, mostly because the word itself is so deeply ingrained in our language that its meaning feels intuitive. But if we dig deeper, choice isn’t a physical thing—it’s a logical rule, like a computer program. A computer doesn’t want anything, but it can make decisions based on pre-programmed parameters. So, when did these parameters evolve into something that living beings could take into account?

We don’t know exactly when, but I’d argue it happened the first time one organism recognized another—not as food or a threat, but as kin. Imagine a microbe, billions of years ago, swimming through the primordial soup. Until then, its existence had been simple: consume or be consumed. But one day, by some random miracle, it encountered another microbe and recognized it. Not as prey, but as a copy of itself—imperfect, but familiar.

In that moment, the microbe faced a choice: consume or spare. And by some grace—call it God, call it luck, call it the first spark of cooperation—it chose to spare its kin.

The Foundations of Cooperation
This was the birth of choice—and with it, the foundations of cooperation. For the first time, life wasn’t just a chaotic mess of consumption and destruction. There was harmony. There was order. There was structure. And most importantly, there were decisions to be made.

Cooperation isn’t just a human trait; it’s woven into the fabric of life itself. From microbes to mammals, every system that works together—every organ, every ecosystem, every society—traces its origins back to that first act of recognition and restraint. Nature isn’t just a battlefield; it’s also a symphony, where cooperation creates harmony amidst the chaos.

The Paradox of Choice
But here’s the paradox: choice is both a blessing and a burden. It gives us freedom, but it also forces us to confront the consequences of our actions. Every decision we make ripples through the web of life, shaping the world in ways we can’t always predict.

And yet, without choice, there would be no meaning. No purpose. No want. Choice is the spark that ignites the fire of life, and it’s what makes us who we are.

Looking Ahead
In the days to come, we’ll explore how choice shapes everything from the simplest organisms to the most complex societies. We’ll delve into the rules of parasitism, the evolution of cooperation, and the rise and fall of empires. We’ll ask why we want what we want—and whether our desires are truly our own.

But for now, let’s start at the beginning: with the first choice, the first spark of recognition, and the first act of cooperation. Because without that, none of us would be here.