In the astonishing treatise by Juan Huarte de San Juan, The Examination of Men’s Wits (1575), we find a fascinating reflection on a historical and biblical phenomenon: the pilgrimage of the people of Israel through the desert for forty years and their sustenance on manna fallen from heaven. According to Huarte, this prolonged journey and this peculiar food did not merely sustain the Hebrew people physically; they profoundly transformed their mental capacities, especially their intelligence and creativity. What exactly happened? And what can we learn from it today?
Huarte first observes that the captivity in Egypt, with its years of suffering and oppression, may have ignited in the Israelites a “burnt-up choler” (cólera requemada)—a product of helplessness and a psychic energy that he links directly to the emergence of cunning, sagacity, and “solercia” (the mental skill for problem-solving). But the true alchemy of the intellect, Huarte argues, occurs during the pilgrimage: forty years of walking through the aridity of the desert, feeding solely on a subtle, light, and celestial delicacy: manna.
Manna, according to both biblical and naturalist descriptions, was white, delicate like coriander seed, tasted like honey, and was warm in nature with extremely fine components. It was a light, almost ethereal food that required little digestion from the body and, therefore, allowed the soul—according to Renaissance physiology—greater freedom to engage in the higher functions of understanding. For Huarte, this dietary regimen notably favored the development of the Jewish people’s intellectual capacities. In his own words: “the Hebrews became of very sharp wit” (Posts WALKING THROUGT THE DESERT; WALKING WITH GENIUS, ACCORDING TO HUARTE).
But it wasn’t just the manna. The geographical environment also played its part. Huarte explains that sterile and arid regions, like the desert where the Israelites wandered, produce more ingenious men, while fertile and abundant lands—like Egypt or the Promised Land—generate robust bodies but duller understandings. This assertion, also held by ancient authors such as Galen or Aristotle, connects the physical environment with mental dispositions in a sort of early epigenetics that still resonates with certain contemporary theories.
And it is here that I wish to add a personal reflection: if we accept that the manna and the environment contributed to elevating the intelligence of the Jews in the desert, we must also consider the role of movement—of walking as a founding experience. Walking for forty years is not just about moving from one place to another; it is a way of thinking with the body. It is rhythm, contemplation, observation of the world, and a continuous flow of ideas to the beat of one’s steps. Perhaps the true miracle of the desert was that perfect confluence of light food, an arid environment, and constant walking. A natural laboratory for mental acuity.
One must wonder then: would that elevation of ingenuity have been possible without the daily walking? Could something similar be repeated today? Is there an epigenetic trace, an inherited memory, that still inhabits certain peoples with long histories of migration, suffering, and displacement?
Perhaps. We have no definitive proof, but we should not dismiss the powerful intuitions that cross history, physiology, spirituality, and culture. What is certain is that the act of walking remains, today as much as yesterday, a path toward a clearer, more creative, and deeper mind.
CONCLUSION AND RECOMMENDATION:
In an increasingly sedentary, computerized world fed on heavy diets, remembering the spiritual and intellectual diet of the desert can be more than a literary exercise. Walk every day. Eat lightly. Seek out spaces of austerity where your mind can sharpen rather than grow dull. You don’t need forty years in the desert to elevate your wit. Sometimes, forty minutes a day outdoors, without distractions, letting yourself be guided by your own steps, is enough.
Walking doesn’t just move the body. It moves the soul. And—as Huarte taught—it can also move the wit. So, let’s be “solercios” (skilled, dexterous) and demonstrate that ability and ease of taking our walks every day, for 30 minutes.