An Invisible Loss

Much has been said about what is happening, but little has been said about what is not. Either because it ceased to happen long ago, or because the noise of the present drowns out what might yet come.

We are consumed with searching for truth, so busy trying to understand what is before us, that we’ve lost the space to reflect. The time to consider how we make sense of life, of the world, slips away unnoticed.

The problem arises from the overwhelming flood of information the internet has placed upon us. We are, in a sense, buried beneath its weight.

To have access to information is no curse. But the reality of it is, there is too much of it to hold in our minds. The task of sorting through it all consumes us. It crowds our thoughts. It blurs our clarity. Our minds, shaped by evolution to filter what is vital from what is trivial, struggle now to tell the difference between truth and distraction, between what is real and what is not.

Not long ago, reading something in print gave us a sense of certainty. The events, at least, were likely real, even if the reporting was a matter of interpretation. Our understanding of reality was built on things that truly happened, not on what someone wished them to be.

While not perfect, these curation mechanisms for truth brought with it a sense of accountability.

A scandal could ruin a politician, bringing swift and lasting disgrace. To some extent, the fear of being held accountable kept people, corporations, and the media closer to the truth. But over time, this paradigm has shifted. The internet didn’t create this change, as some believe. But it became its main transformer to amplify the noise. Now, with a virtually unfiltered flow of information, we carry the burden of sorting through it all ourselves. We let an algorithm find what it thinks based on probability is relevant for us. We are busy with constantly questioning what is real and what is not, leaving much of the guesswork to our own minds.

The cost is high. We lose the space to reflect on what truly matters—to our lives, to our world. In trying to do it all, we risk losing sight of what is most important. There is no time for idleness. We wield the ruler, battling the relentless enemy of misinformation, all while functioning within the machinery of a materialistic society. We cannot afford a moment to stand still.

The whole world has aligned with the narrative that we must pursue growth, endlessly repeating the patterns that have proven success. We are raised to fuel this system, to drive it further, to expand it—endless growth, endless repetition, much to the benefit of only a few.

And so, our views begin to shift. Our values become pragmatic until we surrender and settle with the dangerously calming idea that nothing truly matters.

Could there be a better way? What we were once able to imagine is no longer conceived, because what made reality worth living was born in imagination. Without the time and space to dream of what does not yet exist, we find ourselves trapped—endlessly battling a reality constructed for us, bound by the rules of proving our worth through service to the machine.

And so, we forget how to dream.