Narrator: Imagine a futuristic, multitrillion-dollar spaceship on an expedition to the stars. A scientist, Elizabeth Shaw, is impregnated with a hostile alien lifeform and rushes to the ship’s automated surgery pod to perform an emergency C-section. But as she initiates the procedure, a calm, computerized voice delivers a chilling message: “Error. This medpod is calibrated for male patients only.” This terrifying scene from the 2012 film Prometheus is more than science fiction; it’s a powerful metaphor for a dangerous blind spot in our own world. For centuries, science and medicine have been calibrated for the male body, treating the female form as a mere deviation rather than its own distinct biological system. In her book EVE: How The Female Body Drove 200 Million Years Of Human Evolution, author Cat Bohannon argues that this oversight has not only distorted our understanding of human history but has also had devastating consequences for women's health. The book embarks on a journey to correct this, tracing the evolution of the female body to reveal how it has been a primary engine of human development for millennia.

Narrator: The central premise of EVE is that modern science is built upon a "male norm," a default assumption that the male body is the standard for all of humanity. This bias, Bohannon reveals, is not a minor oversight but a systemic flaw with life-or-death consequences. For decades, the vast majority of animal studies, which form the bedrock of medical research, used only male subjects. Researchers often justified this by claiming that female hormonal cycles made the science too "messy." This preference extended to human clinical trials. As of the year 2000, one in five NIH drug trials still excluded female subjects entirely, and of those that did include women, nearly two-thirds didn't bother to analyze the data for sex-specific differences.

The real-world impact of this is staggering. Bohannon points to the tragic story of OxyContin, a painkiller released in 1996. Because the drug was not rigorously tested for sex differences, dosage guidelines were based on male physiology. Women, who often metabolize drugs differently, found the prescribed doses ineffective, leading them to take more of the drug, more often. This pattern, born from a lack of sex-specific data, contributed to a devastating wave of addiction, particularly among women. The author argues that this is not an isolated incident but a symptom of a larger problem. By failing to ask the fundamental question, "What's different about the female body?", science has created a world where medical treatments can be ineffective or even harmful to half the population.

Narrator: Challenging the idea that female features are mere "add-ons" to a male template, Bohannon travels 200 million years into the past to show how they were foundational evolutionary innovations. She introduces us to a tiny, shrew-like creature, Morganucodon, or "Morgie," scurrying under the feet of dinosaurs. Morgie represents the Eve of mammalian life, and her greatest invention was milk. Initially, this was likely a simple antimicrobial and moisturizing secretion to keep her soft-shelled eggs from drying out. Over time, this secretion became a complex, life-sustaining fluid. Milk, Bohannon explains, is not just food; it is a communication system. It provides hydration, tailored antibodies based on the infant's saliva, and special sugars called oligosaccharides that don't feed the baby but rather cultivate the good bacteria in its gut, effectively building its immune system from the ground up.

This innovation was followed by another, born from cataclysm. After the Chicxulub asteroid wiped out the dinosaurs, our mammalian ancestors evolved the placenta and the womb, allowing them to carry their young internally—a massive advantage in a hostile, post-apocalyptic world. This required a complete re-engineering of the female body, separating the birth canal from the excretory system to protect newborns from contamination. These features, the book argues, were not evolutionary afterthoughts; they were the very adaptations that allowed mammals, and eventually humans, to survive and thrive.

Narrator: The book dismantles the conventional narrative of physical strength, which almost exclusively focuses on male explosive power. While men are, on average, stronger in terms of upper-body muscle, Bohannon reveals that the female body is built for a different, and arguably more critical, kind of strength: endurance. This evolutionary advantage is powerfully illustrated by the modern story of Captain Kristen Griest, one of the first women to graduate from the U.S. Army's elite Ranger School. The grueling course, designed for the male physique, pushes soldiers to the absolute limit of human endurance. Yet Griest not only passed but excelled, finishing second in a twelve-mile hike with a heavy pack.

Bohannon explains that this is no fluke. Women’s bodies are metabolically superior at endurance. They are better at utilizing fat for energy, a more sustainable fuel source than the glucose that powers explosive muscle contractions. Women also tend to have a higher proportion of slow-twitch muscle fibers, which are more resistant to fatigue, and their muscles recover from exercise more quickly than men's. The author posits that this endurance-based physiology may have been a key driver of human evolution. As early hominins moved onto the savanna, it wasn't the explosive strength of the male hunter that was most critical, but the endurance of the female forager, who had to travel long distances to find food for herself and her dependent offspring.

Narrator: The narrative of human evolution is often told through the lens of "Tool Triumphalism," crediting our success to the invention of stone tools, presumably by male hunters. Bohannon offers a radical reinterpretation, arguing that humanity's most important tool was not a rock, but gynecology. As human brains grew larger, birth became exponentially more dangerous due to the "obstetric dilemma"—the conflict between a narrow, bipedal pelvis and the need to pass a large-headed baby. Unlike other primates, human mothers almost always need assistance during childbirth.

This biological reality, the author contends, forced the evolution of cooperative culture. The first and most vital tool for human survival was shared knowledge passed between women: midwifery, herbal remedies to control fertility, and social support to ensure the survival of mother and child. This body of knowledge, which Bohannon defines as gynecology, was a prerequisite for our species' success. It allowed early humans to overcome the immense risks of reproduction and build the stable social groups necessary to migrate across the globe. This perspective shifts the focus from male-centric competition to female-led cooperation as the true cornerstone of human society.

Narrator: In its final analysis, EVE argues that sexism—the complex web of cultural rules designed to control female reproduction—is an evolutionary strategy that has passed its expiration date. While these rules may have provided a framework for social stability in the past, they are now actively harming our species. Bohannon presents stark evidence for this claim. In cultures with rigid rules around female chastity and male promiscuity, sexually transmitted infections spread more rapidly. The practice of child marriage, a direct result of sexist cultural norms, is a leading cause of maternal mortality.

Conversely, investing in women yields enormous benefits. The book highlights the case of Kerala, a state in India that invested heavily in girls' education. Today, its fertility rate is low, its economy is thriving, and it attracts international investment. This stands in sharp contrast to other regions where women's education is neglected. By starving women of resources, education, and healthcare, sexist societies compromise the cognitive development and health of the next generation. At this point in our history, Bohannon concludes, sexism is not just an injustice; it is a direct threat to our collective health, wealth, and wisdom.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Cat Bohannon's EVE is that the female body was never a secondary character in the story of human evolution; it was the protagonist. From the invention of milk to the development of cooperative social structures, female biology and the challenges it faced have been the primary catalysts for the innovations that define our species. The long-held scientific and cultural narrative that places the male body at the center is not only inaccurate but has created a world that is demonstrably more dangerous for women.

The book leaves us with a profound challenge: to re-examine everything we thought we knew about our past and our present. What new scientific discoveries, medical breakthroughs, and social advancements become possible when we finally discard the myth of the male norm and begin to truly understand the 200-million-year story of the female body? The answer, Bohannon suggests, could unlock a healthier and more equitable future for all of humanity.