As some may know, Tucker Carlson, a co-founder of the Daily Caller, is quite the outdoorsy type. He has a passion for hunting and fishing and spends considerable time in nature, unlike many environmental advocates who often express their love for the earth from a distance. He’s even fished right in the heart of New York City. Years ago, a New Yorker recorded a friendly encounter with him while he was fly fishing in Central Park, discussing fishing techniques and the man’s YouTube channel. This showcased Carlson’s connection with nature.
So, it’s no surprise that Carlson’s aspirations often revolve around the outdoors. In a recent interview, he shared that his greatest wish is to spend time in solitude in Maine with his dog, away from the hustle and bustle of society, focusing on hunting and fishing. He also mentioned, perhaps a little sheepishly, that he enjoys the occasional cigarette. Who can blame him? He shared a humorous story about his family, wishing he could use Starlink for connectivity deep in the woods, while realizing that it would defeat the purpose of escaping.
This relatable tale brought to mind a book by David Graeber called Every Dawn. In this intriguing work published posthumously in 2021, Graeber explores the roots of civilization and challenges the conventional timelines of human evolution based on newfound archaeological insights. He delves into the intricate relationships between colonizers and indigenous peoples in North America, demonstrating how the latter had a considerable influence on European intellectuals like Rousseau. One section highlights Condiaronk, a 17th-century chief of the Huron-Wendat tribe, countering the commonly held belief that these tribes were primitive and simplistic.
Condiaronk was a remarkable philosopher, critiquing European society. He pointed out that while Europeans possessed greater material wealth, the essence of their lives was often more constraining than that of his people, who enjoyed freedom in their pursuits—whether fishing, hunting, or simply roaming their lush land without the burdens of modern societal pressures.
It’s a thought-provoking scenario: How would Condiaronk perceive today’s world? If he found 17th-century Europe’s bureaucratic encumbrances undesirable, what would he think of the complexities of modern life? Perhaps he’d feel pity for us, entrenched in financial systems, health insurance, and a technology-driven existence.
Returning to Carlson’s narrative, his yearning to disconnect from modern life and immerse himself in nature, companionship, and simplicity is relatable. The modern world is bewilderingly complicated, often pushing convoluted solutions for age-old human struggles. For instance, if a child can’t focus in school, instead of considering the environment or teaching methods, they might be labeled as needing medication. Similarly, navigating dating now often involves apps rather than genuine, face-to-face experiences.
Kondiaronk pondered the worth of material possessions and titles among the French, questioning if they genuinely experienced freedom. Graeber would likely agree, stating that while they didn’t need to hunt for their food, they were enslaved by different societal expectations. In contemporary 2025, many of us grapple with our own forms of servitude, often overlooked.
Finally, Carlson’s desire for quiet moments in nature resonates with many. Perhaps it highlights a broader need for peace and simplicity in a world inundated with distractions. We seem to require those instances where we can step back from the digital noise and remember our humanity—our physical selves—and relish in the reality that surrounds us.
