Bigger doesn’t always mean better
A few weeks ago, I picked up my usual copy of the Toronto Star. The newspaper was running a specialty issue, branding it the “Innovation Edition” (IE). Contained within its many sections were articles that argued for rapid progression in areas varying from bionic bones and urban apiaries to autonomous vehicles and academic collaboration. The pieces were interesting, informative, and thought-provoking. They were also, in many cases, concerning.
In the majority of the IE articles, the word “growth” was present multiple times. It was mentioned in the context of scientific advancement and medical technologies; it was implicated in reaching a cure for our languishing economy; it was touted as a solution to many of Canada’s problems. The dominating theme of growth in these articles is not merely a reflection of the Star’s political leanings; it reflects an obsession of society as a whole.
[pullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]If our bodies grew our whole lives at the rate they do during childhood, we’d be some mighty creatures.[/pullquote]It is certainly not out of character for me to take on unconventional opinions, so allow me to explain why the expectations of constant growth can be short-sighted.
As a science student, I have spent many a lecture discussing the biological process of uncontrolled growth. Even the uninterested peers from my tenth grade science class understood that, left unchecked, constant cellular growth could lead to cancer. Similarly, it is not difficult to comprehend that the parasitic activities of one organism generally lead to success at the detriment of another. One need only observe the drastic changes in our climate and destruction to the environment to see that humans are metastasizing more quickly than ever across planet Earth.
This view is also relevant from a mathematical perspective. Certainly, even linear growth can cause problems. If our bodies grew our whole lives at the rate they do during childhood, we’d be some mighty creatures. But humans have well surpassed the linear function—we now live in an exponential world. Our population has grown exponentially. The amount of information that exists, the quantity of photos taken, the needs and demands of those who exist; all have grown exponentially. But this is not, in my opinion, a good thing—nor is it sustainable.
We all want jobs for ourselves and for our children, and so we favour large corporations to set up superstores, only to ponder the demise of small local businesses. We quickly build cheap and ugly houses to draw in new residents at unprecedented numbers, then bemoan traffic congestion and strains on infrastructure. We view bachelor degrees as the new high school diploma, offering insecure employment to one of 300 applicants, all of whom had longer resumés by the age of 20 than any of their parents would gather in a lifetime.
Bigger, faster, stronger.
[pullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]The allure of growth is palpable, yet it deceives.[/pullquote]It has become impossible to separate one’s work and personal lives. We demand others to be connected to us at all times; by email, phone, text, and social media. We expect our youth to balance school, jobs, relationships, extracurriculars, sleep, fitness, and societal pressures, then question the growing incidence of mental illness. We want cars that are bigger, internet that is faster, and drugs that are stronger.
Our insatiable demand for constant improvement and convenience is neither viable nor healthy. We are so caught up in the excitement of the newest and greatest thing that we appear to be blind to the consequences of it all. We are the perfect example of allowing short-term idealism to eclipse true acknowledgment of repercussions.
I have seen it happening already in our beloved city. In the mere five years since I fell in love with Guelph, I’ve seen the city welcome an unnecessary number of Starbucks cafés, beautiful fields transformed into unsightly suburbias, and sensitive wetlands become property transferrable to the highest bidder. The allure of growth is palpable, yet it deceives. We cannot have our proverbial cake and eat it too.