The future is being stolen one small decision at a time

A reflection on fragility, short‑term thinking, and what it means to be a good ancestor

The world was here long before us. Kauri (Agathis australis) grove, Coromandel, New Zealand. ~600 years old.

Last year, I wrote about how short-term thinking is killing the planet. A year on, I find myself still wrestling with this issue.

If anything, the issue becomes clearer by the day. The world our kids will inherit comes under ever-increasing pressure. And it’s becoming harder to ignore the fact that the future isn’t being lost in dramatic collapses — it’s being stolen quietly, one small decision at a time.

• A subdivision is approved in a flood zone.

• A wetland is drained because it’s in the wrong place.

• An environmental policy is weakened to help promote development.

• Another hectare of rainforest is flattened to produce more palm oil.

• Taxes are cut to attract voters.

• Another parking lot is approved in a non-walkable city.

• A local shop closes because of strip malls filled with chain stores.

None of these feel like a catastrophe. But each one takes something from the people who come after us.

We imagine the future being lost in big, cinematic moments. Yes, there are wars that are started and there are leaders that are elected that change the course of history. But it’s mostly eroded in ways that are near invisible.

And once you start seeing these tiny losses, the questions become inevitable.

Who holds these people accountable?

How did we get to this point? How did we allow a few people to take that future away?

That’s a question that’s been asked a million times. And it’s a complex one to answer. Capitalism, neoliberalism, individualism, political incentives. But underpinning all this is something simpler:

We’ve built a society optimised for short-term gains.

Short political cycles. Short financial horizons. Planned obsolescence. Fast fashion. Quick wins. Fast fixes.

The result? The long-term future seems to be nobody’s job.

We forget the cathedrals that shape our historic centres took centuries to build — that Gaudí never came close to seeing the Sagrada Família finished. We forget that generations of people have sat under the same trees — protected and cared for by people who never would meet the beneficiaries.

Short-term vs long-term

Instead of approving that subdivision in a high-risk flood zone, how about we buy back land and give rivers the space they need to flood into — supporting biodiversity and humans alike?

Instead of approving another parking lot in a non-walkable city, how about we invest in designing 10-minute cities, where essential amenities are accessible within a short walk?

Instead of our town centres dying because of the influx of strip malls filled with chain stores, how about we support local businesses by providing subsidies that keep cafés, dairies, greengrocers, and bookshops alive — the places that make a town feel like a community rather than a carpark?

Instead of reducing taxes to attract voters, how about we recognise the true costs of a functioning society and invest in liveable communities?

Short-term thinking builds fragility. Long-term thinking builds resilience.

But here’s the hard part

It’s not that most politicians and global leaders are malicious. I’m sure they would like to leave the world in a better state for their grandchildren.

It’s that the system they operate within punishes long-term thinking:

• election cycles are 3-5 years

• long-term plans often require short-term sacrifice

• the political cost of courage is high

• financial incentives tend to reward the opposite of stewardship.

So the question then becomes: How do we get people in power to care enough about the future to act on it?

Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry for the Future imagined an institution with a mandate to protect those that haven’t been born yet.

I don’t know what the perfect solution looks like, but whatever it looks like, we must speak for future generations. If we don’t, who will?

Nature shows us how the future disappears

As an ecologist, I study how biodiversity and ecosystems change over time. Ecosystems rarely collapse overnight. They gradually erode. They lose species. They lose functions. They lose resilience.

Sometimes they do tip over into new, degraded states. But they warn us of what’s coming.

Is what we’re seeing in society this warning? Are the small steps the warning?

Good ancestors

Once again, it comes back to being a good ancestor. We inherited so much from those who came before us: the grand architecture, the tree-lined streets, the protected ecosystems — but also the pollution, the disrupted climate, and the depleted fisheries.

What will it take for our leaders to think more critically about what they’re leaving behind for their descendants? What will it take for them to think beyond the next quarter? The next convenience? Perhaps we should be asking ourselves the same questions.

The future is being stolen in tiny, forgettable moments. Perhaps it can be protected in tiny, unforgettable ones too.

Your turn

I’m only one person with one perspective — but this is a collective problem. I want to hear yours.

1. What’s one small decision you’ve seen lately — good or bad — that shapes the future in some way?

(Anything counts. Something tiny is fine.)

2. What’s one long-term change you wish leaders had the courage to commit to right now?

I always love engaging in these threads — comment so others can read yours.
Let’s get the discussion going!