Finally, Science Confirms That Our Bodies Can Actually Handle Carbs—So Bring on the Pasta and Pretend Our Self-Control Isn’t Still on a Permanent Carb Vacation!

Long before menu items like “Carbs of the Wild” became a trend, our ancestors were low-key prepping for the ultimate starch showdown.

Thanks to the mystical amylase gene, which performs the Herculean task of breaking down starches into sugars (so you know why that pasta feels like a love affair in your mouth), it’s essential in the grand energy heist we call digestion.

In a magical revelation published in the journal Science, researchers found that our hairy forebears were not only into hunting woolly mammoths but were also passionate starch enthusiasts, stocking up on those amylase gene copies long before anyone thought about actual farms.

“These shenanigans were happening 800,000 years ago, before farming, before civilization! Talk about being ahead of the curve,” remarked Omer Gokcumen, the study’s co-author. Apparently, building up your carb game was an evolutionary power move.

It’s unfortunate, though, since researchers also found evidence that these early gene duplicators had neighbors—Neanderthals and Denisovans—who were possibly on that same starch-digesting hype train, just without the option to post about it on Instagram.

What were these ancient folks munching on? Who knows! Starch? Meat? An unfortunate mix of both? This isn’t a cooking show, after all. Scientists are still trying to decide if perhaps Neanderthals were just brave enough to dabble in potatoes.

In modern times, amylase genes have manifested as our insatiable love for all things baked and fried, as some research suggests folks with more amylase copies are just better at demolishing carbs. It’s a sweet little conspiracy among our genes, but no one’s sure if that’s a reason to celebrate or just a recipe for more dentist visits.

Meanwhile, Peter Sudmant, a scientist who wasn’t invited to this gene party, pointed out that agriculture rolled in 12,000 years ago and people decided that more starch in their lives was worth the risk of tooth decay. Who wouldn’t want a side of cavities with their dinner rolls?

Despite their academic certainty, scientists are still scratching their heads over whether having extra copies of amylase is a boon or a bane for health. Sudmant noted that it might lead to some dangerous smiles, as the gene has been linked to tooth troubles—straight from satisfying food to dental disaster.

“It’s entirely possible the amylase gene was like that distant relative who shows up to the family reunion with nothing to contribute,” he mused. “Not everything in our genome does something meaningful. Sometimes, it’s just there, like background noise.”

Both studies managed to make use of a cutting-edge technology called long-read sequencing, which is basically like getting a backstage pass to our ancient DNA concert. They looked at the genomes of those 68 ancient specimens, including a very salty 45,000-year-old Siberian with the oldest case of “what’s that sticking out of my mouth?”

“We’re reconstructing history one gene at a time,” Gokcumen added triumphantly. “Forget Indiana Jones; this is real archaeology—minus the hat and the whip!”