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In the 21st century, something essential has quietly slipped through our fingers: wisdom.
Not because people have rejected it, nor out of some great intellectual failure.
But because we’ve been submerged—almost drowned—in information.
And while knowledge surrounds us at every turn, wisdom has become increasingly scarce.
But this isn’t our fault.
It’s the inevitable result of living in a hyperconnected, hyper-informed world.
Technology has advanced so rapidly that our ability to access data has completely outpaced our ability to process it.
We live in an age of information overload.
Our devices glow through the night.
Our feeds never rest.
News updates arrive before we’ve had our morning coffee.
Opinions are handed to us before we’ve had the chance to form our own.
It interrupts dinner.
It watches you sleep.
It knows what you want before you do.
Information doesn’t just wait for us to find it anymore—it finds us.
Clicks, alerts, opinions, and distractions—
All curated not to enlighten, but to provoke, seduce, and consume.
We are, as it were, swimming in knowledge but gasping for understanding.
From Libraries to Likes: A Timeline of Acceleration
Think about how access to information has evolved over the past few centuries.
We once celebrated the development of cataloguing systems in public libraries as a revolutionary feat.
Back in those days, libraries were temples of knowledge.
You walked in with reverence, with the smell of patience in the air.
You whispered.
You searched for meaning in catalogues and sat with a book for hours.
That kind of patience made you careful—and wisdom was something you earned over time.
Then came the printing press.
Then newspapers.
Then the radio.
Then television.
Each step made information easier to reach—and harder to slow down.
Then the internet kicked things into high gear.
And then social media blew the doors off their hinges.
An 18th-century scholar might have spent a lifetime reading what we scroll through in a single day.
Every minute, a new thing to know.
Every second, a new thing to react to.
And yet, despite all this knowledge, many of us feel less certain.
More restless. Less wise.
We are more connected than ever before.
And yet, many of us feel more lost than ever.
Seeing the World Through the Qur’an: Wisdom as a Divine Gift
There’s a verse from the Qurʾan that I always come back to:
He [God] gives wisdom to whoever He Wills, and whoever is given wisdom has truly been given much good. Quran (2:269)
This is what I yearn for: wisdom.
Not just knowledge. Not just data. Not even ʿilm.
But wisdom.
Because wisdom isn’t the accumulation of facts or the memorising of clever quotes.
It is the art of discernment.
It recognises what matters, when it matters, and how best to respond.
It’s about having the courage to listen.
The discipline to wait.
The grace to speak when it counts— and to stay silent when it doesn’t.
What we’re missing today isn’t input.
It’s clarity.
We’ve been flooded with noise.
And in the noise, we’ve lost the signal.
It’s the difference between a storm—and a compass.
When the Mind Is Full but the Heart Feels Empty
I know this personally.
I’ve spent years studying. Reading. Absorbing.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m carrying a library in my skull—something I’m deeply grateful for. It’s a blessing.
And I want to share all of it.
But the issue isn’t a lack of content.
If anything, it’s too much content.
Too many competing ideas and unfiltered thoughts, all demanding space.
I want to share every nuance. Every insight. Every argument. Every source.
But that’s not wisdom.
That’s gluttony.
It’s excess.
Wisdom doesn’t shout.
It selects. It edits. It pauses.
It knows which words leave a mark—and which are better left unsaid.
It speaks when it matters.
And it knows when silence will do more good.
And maybe that’s the point.
Maybe this isn’t just a rule for speaking or writing.
Maybe it’s a rule for life itself—how we form our opinions, how we interact with the world.
Maybe Less is More
What I don’t want is more data.
More feeds. More noise.
I want the ability to process what I already carry.
The grace to pause.
The clarity to prioritise.
I want to know what’s worth sharing today—and what can be left quietly on the shelf for another time.
Because in a world bursting at the seams with information, the ones who will lead us forward won’t be the loudest.
They won’t be the fastest either.
They’ll be the ones who can see through the noise.
Who can find the signal amidst the chaos.
Who choose meaning over motion.
Depth over noise.
And wisdom—over everything else.
Wisdom Recognises What AI Misses: The Heart
In this flood of endless information, wisdom is the lifebuoy that keeps us afloat—giving us time to find our way home.
Wisdom cannot be outsourced.
It cannot be downloaded.
And it most certainly cannot be automated.
Yes, AI can process and summarise information.
It can spot patterns, simulate insight, and generate decisions—all with lightning speed.
But that’s not wisdom.
That’s computation.
Wisdom is something else entirely.
It’s not the recognition of patterns.
It’s not the synthesis of data.
It’s not speed.
Wisdom is born in silence and shaped in struggle.
It is rooted in lived experience, shaped by moral tension, tempered by humility, and expressed through judgement—not calculation.
Where AI mimics precedent, wisdom steps beyond it.
It pauses. It feels. It doesn’t ask what is likely—it asks what is right.
Wisdom isn’t informational.
It’s moral.
And no matter how refined the machine, it cannot yearn for the good.
Wisdom, I believe, will be the defining virtue of our age.
And if we are to reclaim it, we must slow down, look deeper, and cultivate the silence in which wisdom—and much good—can finally be given to us.
