I find no logic in humanity’s constant effort to prosper, develop technology and build increasingly complex civilizations if the result is not an improvement in the quality of life of those who make them possible. We have turned progress into an end in itself, to the point of accepting the sacrifice of millions of lives in the name of a humanity that, paradoxically, seems to have little interest in the happiness of human beings. Economic, political, social and professional systems perpetuate themselves generation after generation, demanding time, effort and suffering from those who sustain them. Yet our existence is limited. We live for a few decades, and the only thing we truly possess is our life. There is no second chance to recover the years we have given to structures whose beneficiaries we do not even know.

I am also not convinced that living for ninety years working, fulfilling obligations, meeting social expectations and eventually dying alone is necessarily better than a simpler existence, like that of so many human communities that have lived with fewer needs and more time to rest, eat, connect with others and play. We have confused complexity with progress and survival with well-being. All it takes is a moment to consider the family, professional, economic and social structures we are expected to participate in to understand how deeply we have normalised an existence full of obligations. The thought overwhelms me. I cannot find a convincing reason to devote our brief existence to sustaining a system that demands we sacrifice precisely what it should be protecting: the possibility of living.