Chapter 1: The Weight of Tomorrow

Once, I eagerly anticipated what lay ahead. Now, the future feels paralyzing. To cope, I often don an Oculus headset gifted by my husband last Christmas, immersing myself in a serene cabin scene set against the northern lights. I don’t engage in gaming; instead, I imagine living in this tranquil space, far removed from the chaos of reality, lost in thoughts about when I might visit the actual mountains again.

As time passes, my mind begins to prefer these artificial landscapes. The allure of the vibrant, simulated mountains captivates me, making me wish to remain there indefinitely. This sensation embodies what Alvin Toffler termed “future shock” back in 1970. The concept encapsulates the emotional and social paralysis many of us experience due to the overwhelming pace and scale of change around us.

I find this notion fitting. The future seems increasingly illuminated by artificial lights, yet it also appears dimmer. On one hand, we face dire threats like climate change and the current mass extinction event. Conversely, we’re presented with astonishing advancements: robots providing entertainment, self-driving cars, digital currencies, and the flexibility of remote work. It’s a constant tug-of-war between optimism and dread regarding what lies ahead.

We’re left in a state of confusion about the future. It’s a dual reality where improvements and deteriorations coexist. We grapple with whether to trust the bright façades of innovation, which often contribute to the very issues they claim to resolve.

Lately, I’ve found that to navigate each day, it’s best not to dwell too long on long-term prospects. Yet, we can’t escape the future; it’s inescapably approaching. We must prepare ourselves to avoid being caught off guard.

Our sense of unpreparedness is chronic. The future threatens to render us obsolete. In the past, we worried about being replaced by younger, more qualified individuals. Now, we find ourselves in competition with algorithms and artificial intelligence.

At some point, many of us may answer to an AI that monitors our health metrics and financial status. Individuals are already losing jobs and healthcare to software solutions. To stay relevant, we’re compelled to emulate robots or become superhuman, striving for heightened productivity or mastering skills that machines cannot yet replicate. We must evolve into creative innovators simply to survive.

For those of us under 50, the mounting pressure to acquire a multitude of skills is overwhelming. Daily, we confront the anxiety surrounding industries poised to upend our careers within five years, forcing a complete reinvention of ourselves.

Job security is becoming a relic of the past. The dread of obsolescence leads to heightened stress. The risk of being replaceable or dispensable evokes fears of poverty and loss. In our quest to keep up, we invest heavily in courses promising to maintain our relevance, purchasing countless e-books and subscribing to coding platforms.

We strive to hedge against the future. Thanks to movements like r/wallstreetbets, many now grasp the concept of “shorting” stocks. We’ve adopted this mindset towards our futures, no longer dreaming but anticipating obstacles we must navigate.

We speculate about which cities will be submerged in a decade, which societal safety nets may fail first, and where to safeguard our finances amid impending crises.

Even large corporations and wealthy individuals appear to anticipate impending doom. Rather than seeking collective salvation, they prioritize maximizing profits as conditions worsen, preparing for their own survival when societal collapse occurs.

We’re all bracing for that pivotal moment—possibly within the next decade—when we may need to prioritize our own well-being and that of our closest circles. If you possess a conscience, this reality gnaws at you. It’s disconcerting to harbor only half-hearted beliefs in the future, leading to a mental freeze.

Many are seeking refuge from what lies ahead. A growing number of us find solace in nostalgia, binge-watching period dramas or revisiting beloved films. The past offers a sense of stability, something reassuring in its familiarity.

This is why I struggle to finish Tenet, a film I eagerly anticipated before the pandemic. Its premise—where the future poses a threat, demanding simultaneous backward and forward thinking—feels deeply unsettling and all too relevant.

The future is driving us to madness. It challenges us to adopt entirely new ways of thinking as we confront hyper-objects and realities that defy conventional logic. Climate change and economic upheaval are prime examples, and contemplating entire cities disappearing in our lifetimes or the possibility of never retiring is daunting.

Yet, we must confront these realities. The future has already infiltrated every aspect of our lives. We rely on technology to escape the stress stemming from technology itself, creating new solutions for the problems generated by the old, resulting in a cycle that accelerates relentlessly.

This frantic pace leaves little room for contemplation. An urgent sense of action prevails, often dictated by the fear of missing out as prices fluctuate in financial markets. Decisions need to be made swiftly—deliberation feels like a luxury we can’t afford.

In this volatile environment, emotional turbulence is rampant, resulting in hasty decisions driven by anxiety. We’re all racing toward the latest opportunities for a marginal advantage in a landscape saturated with artificial light, which only adds to our collective madness.

We must confront our future shock. Alvin Toffler proposed several strategies to navigate this phenomenon, surprisingly relevant even after fifty years. Here are his suggestions:

Direct Coping

Unplug from technology and allow yourself to relax. Spend time outdoors, take a leisurely walk, read, or look through old photographs. Take breaks from the future whenever possible. Tune into your feelings and recognize how your body reacts when thoughts of the future overwhelm you. Immerse yourself in the present moment—whatever you’re doing, focus solely on that task without distraction.

Zones of Stability

Minimize your decisions. We often underestimate the mental energy required for decision-making. Whenever possible, avoid making even minor decisions. Establish routines that remain consistent amid external chaos, providing a sense of predictability that allows you to think clearly. Concentrate on broader perspectives, including aspects likely to remain unchanged over the next five to ten years.

Situational Grouping

Shift your focus from who you are or aspire to be and concentrate on your ongoing evolution. View yourself as someone constantly in flux. Embracing the idea of change makes the world feel less intimidating. Instead of resisting change, ponder how you can guide your own transformation.

Gradual Adaptation

Approach significant changes incrementally rather than all at once. See the process of adapting to the future as a series of small steps. Alternate between envisioning the future and seeking refuge in the past. Create environments that honor history and provide temporary respite from the pressures of the future.

Cultural Rituals

Engage in activities that foster continuity, like watching sports, playing games, or enjoying films. Participate in personal and cultural rituals that help you process new information and transitions. Such practices use the past to help integrate the future into the present, providing stability. Seek ways to celebrate the future and uncover hidden opportunities; sometimes, this is the only path to adaptation.

Embracing Newness

Let go of outdated beliefs and knowledge. The more you cling to the past, the harder it becomes to thrive. Commit to learning new skills and embrace the experience of being a novice. Face new ideas and ideologies head-on rather than avoiding them. Look further back into history for insights that could illuminate the future.

The overarching message is that while you don’t need to abandon the past, you must refrain from allowing the future to paralyze you. Concerns about the future abound, especially with the rise of meme stocks and cryptocurrencies gaining traction.

I find myself reassessing my position weekly. I’m cautiously considering investing in cryptocurrencies despite my skepticism. I’m actively seeking new skills to maintain my employment. Acknowledging the inevitability of change is essential; it has always been a constant.

You cannot halt change. You can only learn to navigate it as it flows over and through you, like a brisk stream. Resist the urge to be consumed by nostalgia.

Over the past year, I’ve often wished for a time machine, yearning for the simplicity of the past more than daydreaming about what’s next. How wonderful it would be to flip a switch and travel back a decade, with part of me lingering there.

The past offers solace and security, a time when concerns about climate change and economic upheaval were merely distant threats. Back then, faith in democracy and job security felt unwavering.

Retreating into nostalgia provides temporary relief from the relentless pressures of the future, but it can only ever be a fleeting escape. A brief respite can offer comfort, but excessive dwelling lures you into a false sense of permanence.

You cannot remain in the past. You must face the future.

Living in the future entails relinquishing outdated perspectives and freeing yourself from antiquated mindsets. It requires heeding intuition alongside logic, and perhaps even mining deeper historical insights for forgotten wisdom.

This journey demands letting go of the need for security, as that very desire fosters paralysis. We resist change, clinging to a future that doesn't align with our expectations. It’s a stark reality, one that is cold and unsettling, yet we are the architects of our future, shaping it minute by minute for ourselves and those around us.

Don’t let the future overwhelm you. Embrace it.