I’m not here to change the world. I’m here to understand it. The very desire to change the world implies an assumption—that you are wiser than the collective wisdom of every individual who has ever lived, that your understanding surpasses the countless choices, efforts, and struggles that have shaped the world into what it is today. I hold no such delusions. My wisdom is no greater than the collective outcomes of billions of people acting, over millennia, in their own perceived best interests.
The world as it exists today is the result of an unbroken chain of human decisions. Each person acted according to their understanding, shaped by their circumstances, biology, memories, and self-interest. Do you think you would have done better? That if you lived the lives of those billions of people, you’d have made wiser choices, leading to a "better" world? You wouldn’t. If you were born as a medieval farmer, a soldier from a thousand years ago, or even Hitler, with their exact genetics, memories, and brain chemistry, you would have done exactly what they did.
This isn’t self-deprecation—it’s realism. To think otherwise is arrogance, the kind that blinds you to the vast complexity of human existence. Believing you would have somehow acted differently is a comforting delusion, but a delusion nonetheless.
Instead of trying to change the world, try to understand it. True understanding humbles you. It reveals how little you truly know and opens your eyes to the elegance and beauty in the world’s interconnected chaos. Every action, no matter how flawed or selfish it may seem, contributes to the intricate tapestry of human existence. To understand this is to see the world not as a failure but as an awe-inspiring culmination of countless lives lived.
I wrote this because I often hear people lamenting the supposed stupidity of humanity. They claim we fail to act in our collective best interest, that we need to "learn from nature." But what does that even mean? Which nature should we emulate? The gentleness of lovebirds or the ruthlessness of wolves? Nature isn’t a moral guide—it’s an impartial system of survival and adaptation. Besides, who’s to say that adopting “natural” behaviors will make us better? What if it backfires?
We are a part of nature, shaped by the same evolutionary forces as every other species. There’s no need to romanticize some abstract "natural ideal" as superior to what we are. Instead, we should accept ourselves—our flaws, strengths, and contradictions—as an integral part of the universe’s ongoing story.
The world doesn’t need you to impose your vision upon it. It doesn’t need your “fixes.” It exists as a product of countless decisions, struggles, and triumphs—each of them valid within their context. To understand this is to find peace, not only with the world but with yourself.