Rudderless Leader-Ship

I recall a time, long ago, when we looked up to global political leaders as giants among men. In today’s Dr. Seuss world, these ‘great’ men become leaders only to shrink and transform into small figures. Given the opportunity and ability to improve countless lives, repair a broken world, and heal divisions, many leaders choose instead to emphasize what divides us. I grew up under the specter of nuclear war, and decades later, it is bewildering that my children face the same threat. This is not merely a failure of leadership; it highlights a complete absence of it.

If asked who I admire today, the leaders I respect, I could name many: Sean Carroll, Lisa Randall, Kip Thorne, Sheryl Sandberg, Bill Gates, Sabine Hossenfelder, to name just a few. These individuals are leaders in their fields, yet they are not the types influencing our geopolitics.

We have minds capable of understanding our universe at extraordinarily complex levels. Technology like the James Webb Telescope has allowed us to glimpse back to the dawn of time. Time, as our greatest thinkers teach us, does not exist as we perceive it. Our universe is far more incredible than we can fathom. Quantum entanglement allows particles to communicate instantaneously across the vastness of space. We can photograph black holes, beyond whose event horizons lie phenomena that challenge our understanding of reality—where time and space are inverted, and where anything imaginable can be realized. A multiverse, where endless versions of ourselves exist, where past, present, and future coexist.

Such wonders of the universe are being discovered daily. Yet on our infinitesimally small planet, we still cling to the idea that the color of our skin matters. We adhere to a version of the divine that seems almost insulting to a being capable of creating our multiverse. Our perceptions of deities were formed when we believed the Earth was flat and the center of all things. Now that we know our planet orbits a star among billions in our galaxy—one of trillions of galaxies, likely part of an infinite cosmos—we still cling to antiquated concepts of divinity. We envision a being, or beings, consumed with overseeing every detail of our lives. Countless wars have been fought to assert that our interpretation of divinity prevails, and those conflicts rage on today. I believe in the divine, but not as an angry, vengeful force demanding we treat dissenters with hatred. Look at the images collected by the Hubble and Webb telescopes; understand the enormity of what you see and reconcile that with your view of the divine.

Many still believe that their gender affords them privilege. Privilege which they think they are entitled to. In our modern world, we still have nations where women are treated as possessions, refused education or basic freedoms.

Historians, who have clung tightly to conventional views of human history, are now being reluctantly compelled—only when faced with overwhelming evidence—to accept that our understanding of human history must be rewritten. Vast areas of South America's jungles were once leveled for massive agricultural projects supporting hundreds of interconnected advanced cities. While Europe was still home to barbarian tribes, South America thrived. New discoveries of megalithic structures in North America promise to reveal an even older chapter of our history.

Despite all we know, we fiercely hold onto the land we believe we are entitled to. Those who cross our borders are deemed outsiders—unwelcome, foreign, accused of despicable acts and the abuse of our pets.

What we’ve learned about our existence over the past decades should have prompted us to stop and reflect on who we are. It should have been enough to halt the destruction of the only world we will ever call home; to overcome divisions, hatred, entitlement, and delusions of grandeur. It should have inspired our leaders to recognize humanity’s extraordinary nature. Yet our screens are filled with images of children crushed under collapsed concrete. If one child goes missing in the West, we issue amber alerts, deploy hundreds of police, and cover the story for weeks. In that same span, thousands of children starve, are blown apart, or die from treatable illnesses. The plight of that one missing child captures our attention; the rest seem not to concern us.

The knowledge humanity has gained is sufficient for us to know better. What is lacking is leadership to demonstrate how our understanding can change lives for the better. What use are billionaires destroying our planet to chase the pipe dream of colonizing Mars? Science shows we cannot. Humans evolved under the specific gravity of Earth, and we are generations away from developing the technology to counter the effects of different gravities over extended periods.

Right now, we need leaders grounded in reality, not bouncing around stage like court jesters. We need leaders with the foresight to view the world as one and to lead us as such. We need leaders who can recognize the immediate dangers we face and understand their underlying causes.

I was raised in a man’s world, and I must say: men, we have not covered ourselves in glory. We have come full circle—pushing past globalization back to isolation, and from tolerance back to hatred. We brought our world to the brink of nuclear Armageddon, and luck, not leadership, saved us. Now we are heading there again at an accelerated pace, but our luck will not hold forever.

Success is now measured by clicks and likes. Those deemed successful often ascend to leadership roles. Few leaders have been fortunate enough to impact lives positively, leveraging their wealth to grow their knowledge and to help those less fortunate. Many have squandered their advantages, pursuing self-indulgence while destroying countless lives. Our world has created these leaders and placed them on pedestals. They have become the norm, not the exception.

It is time for change. The only thing keeping peace from our world is us. We stand on the precipice of catastrophe—rudderless, leaderless, and hopeless—yet still capable of greatness. A king once offered his kingdom for a horse. What price must we pay for a great leader? Because without leadership, our path is set, and it leads nowhere near paradise.

How is it possible that we have come so far, learned so much, yet learned nothing at all?