Over the years I would occasionally write short essays, mainly to process what was going through my mind. Frequently these were not very coherent, being sketches of random thoughts. Some captured observations made while travelling, noting differences between one place and another. Others were philosophical, and some were reactions to political events or current affairs.
Ordinary moments often stirred these thoughts: walking from Gate 3 to Gate 24 at a modern airport terminal, sitting on a bus, watching a house sparrow land on a roof, observing a barefoot hawker sell packets of peanuts in Africa, reading the news, or enjoying the proximity of an elephant feeding just in front of my tent. All of these stimulate reflection in different ways and for varied reasons.
A thought may surface because of something said or seen beforehand. Whatever the trigger, it connects to a myriad of other memories and ideas — consolidating existing beliefs, or provoking new questions. The locations, timing, surrounding events, and my emotions are dynamic, shifting back and forth.
The questions that keep resurfacing are many and varied: Why are things the way they are? Why is oil so important in today’s world? What drives global conflicts? Why does extreme wealth exist alongside desperate poverty? Why is religion so important? Why do diseases like bird flu appear out of the blue (a question I was already asking in 2009, before Covid-19)? Why do we need passports and visas to travel? Why is Africa poor and North America rich? How did humans become Earth’s most dominant land species?
These lead to deeper reflections: Are these conditions inevitable, and can we influence them? Are we helpless, or is our fate predestined? Can we ever know the answers? If not, is there a rational way to draw closer to them? This captures the thought process — a question leads to possible answers, raising more questions. And so the cycle continues.
The greatest driving force behind gathering these thoughts into writing is a sense of confusion and despair about living in a highly complex modern world. I read about the rise in mental health issues and sense that many of us don’t know where we are heading, or why. The devastating realities are hard to ignore: billions living in abject poverty with little hope, an environment rapidly deteriorating, resources consumed at an unsustainable rate, and biodiversity in decline.
And yet others are optimistic. We live in an age of unprecedented access to knowledge, with astounding scientific discoveries, improved health services, remarkable efficiency of food production, and the ease of trade and travel. If we have managed these successes, surely we can address the problems that remain? Is this not so?
Over time, events in our world developed — generally for the worse — and I began to feel a sense of urgency to compile these writings into something more coherent. I felt that events had caught up with me: scenarios I had once pondered as distant possibilities were now realising, or in the process of doing so. Waiting ceased to be an option.
These thoughts are complex, varied, and at times confuse me. Writing them down is partly an attempt to make sense of them.