For most of us, the continents are immediately recognizable – their outlines are clearly defined by the waters that surround them. Wherever you are on a continent, you can identify exactly where you are in the world. However, even the simplest questions about them raise some immediate and striking problems. How many continents are there? Are North and South America separate continents? Is Antarctica considered a continent? Which parts of Asia are included in Oceania? And when there is no sea or ocean to help us, where exactly is the border between Europe and Asia? Although we are so sure of the existence of continents, it seems a bit strange that we cannot immediately and reliably say how many continents there are, or exactly where their borders lie. Nevertheless, their shape has been imprinted in our memory since childhood and has since been reproduced in maps, atlases, and images. In this simplicity, and in its repetition, lies the myth of the continents and the idea that they are obvious, simple, as well as the only way to organize our world.

However, awarding the "honor" of a continent to a geographic area is not an easy task, but rather one that raises the awkward question: who decided the outline of the continents and when? And what are the consequences of dividing the world into a few vast landmasses? In reality, the continental shape tells us relatively little about physical geography and much more about ourselves. Continents are a way of dividing the globe that conceals many of the details of the human, natural, and geological world. Continents are not remarkable for their geographical uniformity, their inherent characteristics, or the scientific accuracy of their classification, but rather highlight the power of our imagination to insist that they essentially exist, despite the multitude of evidence showing otherwise.