What Do I Want the World to Look Like?

A dual perspective and a conveyor belt

Nikki Waterson

Published in

The Bigger Picture

5 min readJun 5, 2023

Cars on a production line — Photo by carlos aranda on Unsplash

The question that started it all

Imagine sitting quietly, sipping your coffee and chatting to a friend online, and you’re asked a question. Possibly a question you haven’t ever been asked before.

“What do you want the world to look like?”

The message appeared on my phone earlier today. It was a divergence from the conversation, which hadn’t been so heavy. And now I was being asked for a big opinion. A big opinion that I wasn’t even sure that I had.

You see, I’ve spent my fair share of time contemplating significant, self-reflective questions.

Do I regret any decisions in my life? Absolutely.
Would I change any chapters of my personal story? Nope.
If I really think about it, would I prefer not to live with Narcolepsy with Cataplexy? You bet.
But would I press a button to make it go away if I could? Probably not.

In fact, for several years now I’ve come to believe that there is no circumstance in which I would choose to ‘magically’ go back and change my life. Not in opportunities, wealth, experiences, relationships… not anywhere.

So this question struck me with a new conundrum.

How does my view on acceptance of my own life and circumstances play out when it comes to ways I could impact the whole world?

Billions of people who could potentially be happier.
Poverty eradicated.
Hygiene, shelter, food, education and opportunities all distributed equally.

This question of what I want the world to look like was an entirely new thought experiment, and I was not enjoying the completely false sense of responsibility.

My two answers to the question

As I sifted through my thoughts, it became clear I was battling with two distinct answers. Two distinct versions of the world. Each version totally incompatible with the other.

Part I: A World Unshackled from Broken Systems

In my first vision, I see a world where individuals are no longer stuck in the systems that are faltering at their seams. The systems of policy, government, capitalism and consumerism to name a few. They exist at each level of our world, permeating society in ways that are intricately woven together.

I often think of what happens when these systems interact with humans overall as a species. We’re built in a way that we’ll always create systems. And because of the way humans behave, the systems will always be broken to some degree.

So from the human perspective, it’s like being stuck on an endless conveyor belt that’s dictating the rhythm of life — who we are, what we do, where we go, when we act, and why we live. It’s as though we’re confined to this perpetual motion without any room for exploration or deviation.

Of course, there are those few moments in life that tend to shake us out of this repetitive cycle. A brush with mortality, a loss of everything we hold dear, a stern reality check — these experiences can jolt us awake, make us aware of the conveyor belt, and encourage us to step off.

Stepping off the conveyor belt is not without its own challenges. You risk becoming an anomaly and deviating from the norm. You might feel alienated, almost as if you’ve lost a part of your humanity.

And then there’s the sorrow of watching your loved ones, those who are still trapped in this ceaseless cycle, enduring their own struggles and unhappiness. Things you can attribute to them going through the motions, being part of the systems and unable to see the conveyor belt that pulls them through life.

My Ideal World: Dismantling the Conveyor Belt

In this first vision of the world, I imagine a scenario where the conveyor belt no longer exists. There aren’t any more problematic systems.

Humans stand up to systemic abuse and disenfranchisement. Biases, blind spots, irrational behaviour are a thing of the past.

But for this to happen, our very human nature would need to be rewired, our way of perceiving and reacting to the world would need to be changed fundamentally.

And as much as I’d like to believe in the possibility of such radical transformation, realism nudges me to accept its impossibility.

Part II: Accepting the World As It Is

My second vision of the world, though seemingly contrasting, is equally valid. And it’s the vision I hold day to day.

This vision is one of acceptance of the world in its current state. Here, I don’t desire the world to be any different from what it is today.

It‘ i’s true that our world is full of absolute horrors. It’s fraught with injustices and hardships. It wish it was different.

However, I remain sceptical that humanity would behave differently even if given a chance to start over.

And to my mental health, why should I hope for a different reality than what exists today? Each day brings with it a mix of experiences — some good, some not so good. Today was a difficult day for me, but for others, it may have been pleasant, incredible, challenging or even the most unbearable they would ever live. I’m not diminishing anyone’s experience by grouping those together. I’m only angling at the idea of investing energy into things within my power.

Finding Solace in Acceptance

If I were to assign a philosophical underpinning to this perspective, it would be based on the principles of Buddhism that I’ve found have helped me with accepting my own disability, losing my job and career, and other losses.

Part of Buddhism includes the practice of acceptance, acknowledging the impermanence of life’s experiences. In Buddhist teachings that I’ve explored, there’s a sense of ease and tranquility in embracing the world with all its imperfections, just as it is.

Conclusion: Two Visions, One Human Experience

So my response to the intriguing question, “What do I want the world to look like?” encompasses two perspectives.

Who knew, another human on the internet doesn’t have all the right answers?

On one side, I aspire for a world free from the confines of incredibly broken systems, but I feel that humanity will only repeat. On the other, I accept and embrace the world in its current form, complete with its triumphs and tribulations.

If I put too much thought into that first vision, I feel sad. I feel a loss for something that doesn’t exist. And I feel that loss because I believe it probably won’t ever exist, but I do want it.

Much better to put my energy into a cause where I can work towards something I feel is realistic. Like I have before and will continue to do.

Perhaps the question is less about how we want the world to look like, and more about how we choose to perceive and engage with the world as it is. Maybe instead of asking “What do you want the world to look like?” An alternate could be:

“What can you do to help shape the world as you wish?”