We live in an age of unprecedented change. The world feels like it's constantly shifting beneath our feet, leaving many of us feeling off-balance and disoriented. This feeling of a "world in tilt" can manifest in many ways, from the constant barrage of news and social media updates to the rapid pace of technological advancement. This constant state of flux can take a significant toll on our mental and emotional well-being and the external chaos can seep into our internal world, amplifying existing anxieties and insecurities. We may find ourselves struggling to cope with everyday challenges, feeling overwhelmed, and experiencing a heightened sense of vulnerability.

In the following lines, I would like to propose a thought experiment about the human condition. It's a thought experiment, and as such, it might lead to solutions that the public might accept more or less. It's my own version, and I'm open to suggestions. I hope it stimulates reflection, pauses us in our busy lives, and invites us to close our eyes and think, to pause for a moment to breathe. Reflection is so important because it helps us understand ourselves, others, our surroundings, our past, and our possible future. Reflection is a powerful tool, and like any tool, it needs to be used in moderation.

We don't want to overthink things, but we also don't want to skim over them. We're living in a time of rapid change, where everything has to be quick, immediate, and possibly perfect. This can feel overwhelming for all of us. At work, we're expected to produce perfect results quickly. At home, we have to be on top of all the latest trends in child development. And let's not forget to keep our homes tidy to avoid adding to the chaos. Work and home life have become one big blended thing. We have all been there: you're finally done with the kids, and then you get that work email that just can't wait.

How far have we come when even your email inbox reminds you that you have not responded to an email and it has been more than 24 hours since you received it? How far have we come when even your cell phone reminds you that you have not responded to a message? This accelerated rush to have everything, right now, creates within you a feeling of constant anxiety of having forgotten such and such an email, such and such a message, such and such a notification, such and such an update, such and such a meeting. A constant fear of always having to be alert, ready, prepared, aware, and on time. But why have we come to this point?

I don't want to speculate that such obligations didn't exist a few decades ago: punctuality at work has always been valued, but this frantic rush to respond to emails and messages has occurred in the last five or ten years and will increase in the years to come. Certainly the acceleration of technology, especially artificial technology, will have an effect on this, especially when you consider that machines don't shut down. They're on 24 hours a day, seven days a week; they don't celebrate birthdays, they don't have parties with friends, they don't go to the bar and have a drink with friends, they don't go for walks in the park. I mean, do we have to answer emails even at midnight on New Year's Eve?

All these external aspirations only exaggerate the person's emotional state. And then you have to realize a person's personal, internal desires or expectations. Someone can become so embedded in the role of the human machine that they program themselves to respond immediately to all emails, messages, and notifications and demand the same from others. This person freaks out if he or she does not get a response within 24 hours (or event two hours). He or she has to be extremely prepared for everything and everyone (but is that possible?). At the first conflict, he falls into a vacuum; he does not know how to react; he has not been programmed for conflict.

But why have we come to this point? And then you have to be aware of everything: The financial situation in Asia, the value of the dollar against the yen, the fires in California, the new book by the Nobel Prize winner, the new movie by the director in question, the political maneuvering at the European level, the inflation rate, where your child is going on a field trip in a month, the reunion with the parents' group or professors, your neighbor's birthday, the birth of your cousin's stepbrother's niece, the real estate price per square meter in Shanghai, the seawater temperature in the Canary Islands (it's windy in the Canary Islands, because when it's that windy, you can't go to the beach).

If you don't have an answer to all the questions, no problem! Just ask on the phone. The phone will offer you a graph of price trends per square meter in Shanghai for the last twenty years, show you a graph of the water temperature in the Canary Islands for the last decade, and even ask you if you want a reminder for the cousin's niece's birthday (or was it the cousin's stepbrother?). The phone will even tell you how many minutes have passed since you last went to the bathroom.

When did it become a sacrilege to answer a question with a simple "I don't know"? And when did knowing the water temperature in the Canary Islands become knowledge? The example of water temperature is just an example. It is probably considered knowledge for those who dive, fish, or are interested in ocean currents and climate change. The point is that if we dwell on all these questions and an immediate answer is required, the amount of information the brain has to process is immense, and surely, and fortunately, our brains filter out the information that is considered most important. So we are back to square one: we will never remember the water temperature in the Canary Islands in December 2018.

This self-imposed pressure to be "always on" can be incredibly draining. The constant striving for efficiency and optimization can dehumanize us and impact our relationships. It is interesting to consider how we have arrived at a point where we might be perceived as human machines, or perhaps even humanoid machines, or machine humans. The choice of term could potentially offer a deeper understanding of this phenomenon. Are we humans behaving in a manner that resembles machines, constantly engaged in activity? Or, have we become so influenced by technological thinking, emphasizing speed, accuracy, precision, and other such qualities, that we are striving to emulate machines in our own conduct? We are at the point of making a thrilling challenge between machines and humans! In this case, there is a very slight chance that we might win, but it would be incredible. We could win by unplugging the power, but I'm sure the next machines will be self-charging. They might already exist, and I'm just unaware of it.

I'm not claiming to have all the answers here, and I'm not trying to dictate a specific course of action. The point is to engage in a reflective process, which we can do by temporarily setting aside our phones and taking a moment of mental respite. During this time, we should explore the option of acknowledging our uncertainty when faced with questions we don't have immediate answers to. It's fascinating to see how the world reacts when we own our ignorance. The world won't fall if we just respond, “I do not know,” sometimes.