A friend once told me that there was nothing new to discover. This made me upset. Throughout my school years I learned of historical figures creating and discovering new things. Being the first to do something was an honour that reserved you a spot in human history. Creating something new was even better, it was a reflection of genius that was attributed to one person.

I was born in 2001. Capitalism had already propelled humanity towards new discoveries, people were working harder than ever. But there was still endless suffering. As I grew up, I learned of the history that made up my reality. It was hard to conceptualise the sheer amount of years that had past before I was here. How many systems had been created.

How is a kid supposed to react to history? Some kids become inspired by it, as it serves some purpose for the present or future. I was mostly depressed by history, it was overwhelming in scale. It put pressure on me to live up to that standard of discovery and innovation. Furthermore, I didn’t understand what anyone was actually trying to work towards? So called “great” men were motivated by flawed conceptions of legacy and human exceptionalism. Names like Caesar, Hamilton, Henry Ford, Darwin, Aristotle, Einstein, Steve Jobs and Napoleon made me shrug with irreverence. They wanted to change the world, but I didn’t get why? Often so called innovation came at the cost of human wellbeing, so was it even worth it?

I understand that I am making quite a few over generalising statements. My intention is to unpack some of these ideas so that I can reconcile with them. Coming to my last year of university, I am struggling to believe that I can make a positive impact on the world. I want to be kind, but I am overwhelmed by life outside of myself. I don’t know if I have anything new to say when it feels like everything has been said before.