I believe that, as a people, we need to become a solid foundation—a rock. When I say this, I mean that governments, across all countries, should find themselves caught between a rock and a hard place. The "hard place" represents the powerful elites: large corporations, billionaires, and the wealthy who already control much of the system. These elites have the power to shape decisions, leaving governments with little choice but to cater to their interests.
On the other hand, the people—divided and fragmented—are like pebbles, unable to unite and push for collective action. Despite being the majority, our divided nature means our needs and voices aren't effectively represented. Governments can easily ignore or dismiss us, as they are more inclined to appease the powerful elite.
However, if the people were to unite and become that solid rock, we would shift the balance. Governments would no longer be able to disregard us as easily.
How can we change this? It starts with a shift in perspective—from the ground up. We're living in a generation that is increasingly selfish and ignorant, one that is overly consumed by identity. A lot of blame tends to fall on gender issues, particularly with young men, and I can concede that a significant portion of the blame may rest with men. But ultimately, the blame is on *us* as a whole, especially when it comes to relationships and the way they unfold in today's world.
My take is this: it's becoming increasingly difficult to survive and thrive in a system that's failing its people. At the core, what we value most as individuals is survival. The system is rigged in such a way that no matter how hard you work, it feels almost impossible to succeed in the way previous generations once did. For instance, just a few decades ago, owning a house and building wealth by 25 was attainable. But now, even with a good job or a degree from a top university, it’s incredibly hard, especially in cities like London, to achieve such stability.
The things we value in relationships, too, have become materialistic. It's not to say we should all be lazy or aimlessly drifting—of course, we should have goals and work hard. But when material success becomes the primary measure of attraction, we further contribute to the inequality that exists. As Gary Stevenson pointed out, especially during COVID, the gap between the wealth of the elites and the working class has only grown wider. The rich are getting richer, and the rest of us are getting poorer. Soon, there may be little left for those of us struggling to survive.
In response, we, as a society, need to reevaluate what we find attractive and what we prioritise in one another. If material wealth is your primary focus, you're feeding into the very system that perpetuates inequality. However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t value hard work or personal ambition. I’m an ice cream man, for example—not a billionaire—but I find the hard work, the dedication to a craft, to be attractive. Similarly, if I were dating a musician, she may not be a billionaire, but I’d value her commitment to her art, the effort she’s putting into something she’s passionate about. In the past, that kind of work might have been enough to build a life and own a home, but today, it’s not.
So, should we raise our expectations unrealistically, or should we acknowledge that something is wrong with the system? I believe it’s time for us to unite as humanity—beyond the labels of gender, race, or religion—and recognise the root of the problem. That, in essence, is my perspective.
