I've been wondering, what made our ancestors settle in these godforsaken places? It can't have been easy with those frail, squishy bodies of theirs.
What makes a caveman go yes, this frozen hellscape is where I want to live out my days?

Is it possible that on some level, people want to believe that everything's going to get worse? That it's comforting to think that humanity is bad and every solution will just go wrong? Because that way, you're never responsible. You never have to take on responsibility for anything outside yourself and never have to grow up.

It's not right to make fun of Melville's comically absurd inability to take decent pictures.
She's a hyper-advanced humanoid machine, not a photographer.