Where Are We Headed?

Lately, I find myself thinking a lot about the direction we are moving in as humanity. Everywhere I look, the headlines speak of mega projects—resources worth billions being poured into development, infrastructure, and profit. Yet running quietly alongside these stories are human ones: rising cases of cancer, heart disease, mental health struggles, and deep emotional fatigue. These two realities seem to be drifting further and further apart. I keep wondering—why?

This morning, I woke up early to watch the sunrise. It’s one of the simple things that still brings me joy. My son was awake too, preparing to leave for work at 5:30 a.m. He looked at me, puzzled, and asked why I was up so early on a weekend—especially when I had the choice to sleep in. He said he needed two more hours of rest.

I told him something simple: people travel to the Maldives and spend hundreds of dollars a day to experience what we have here—sunrise, sunset, nature, stillness. Today, I could wake up and enjoy all of it for free.

Later, while talking with a friend, our conversation drifted toward values. We spoke about how many people now want to appear clever by earning easy money through scams and illegal activities, choosing shortcuts over honesty, effort, and contribution. These were exactly the values we were taught to avoid growing up. Despite all the investments, the technology, and the gadgets we couldn’t even imagine 30 years ago, we don’t seem to be developing as better human beings. Instead, we seem more detached—from purpose, from responsibility, and from one another.

At sunrise, at the Artificial Beach, I witnessed something that stayed with me. Two young boys were taking photos of the rising sun, capturing beauty—while holding paper plates and eating sausages on skewers. When they were done, they simply dropped the skewers onto the sand. The paper plate was crumpled and tossed into the sea over the seawall. No hesitation. No second thought.

The city cleaners had just finished sweeping the area moments earlier.

I stood there asking myself: what has happened to our society? Why is it that I never litter, yet so many others do without guilt? If we were all responsible citizens, we wouldn’t even need cleaners working double shifts. We wouldn’t need migrant workers living far from their families to clean up after us. We wouldn’t have to work harder just to pay more taxes and absorb rising inflation caused by our collective carelessness.

These thoughts stayed with me as the sun climbed higher. Development without values, progress without responsibility, wealth without humanity—what are we really building toward?

Maybe the answers lie in the small choices we make every day. In whether we stop to watch a sunrise. In whether we pick up after ourselves. In whether we remember that being human is not just about growth—but about care.