Are We Degenerating? So What?
Suppose we’re degenerating a little—so what? Maybe that’s just the price we pay for progress.
We have to make less and less effort. Our electric bikes move on their own, our curtains open at the push of a button, and our vacuum cleaners quietly return to their charging stations. Even our food is pre-chewed—or blended. My son has a Bullet Blender, a silver capsule that looks like it could be launched into space.
A Bite or Convenience?
My husband always wants a bite of something, a leftover apple core, a dried-out tangerine peel in his coat pocket, with or without sand—as long as he can sink his teeth into it.
I don’t have that need as much. But chewing is suitable for your teeth and bones and blood circulation in the brain. And somehow, it feels like we lose something when everything becomes too easy.
I crave a more conscious way of living. Feeling alive is crucial to me. I want to truly experience the texture of food, the cold on my skin, and the effort of doing something myself.
Why Do We Seek Both Comfort and Hardship?
Once, we were nothing but a cluster of cells. Our digestive system formed as a tiny sac that folded in on itself like a deflated football. The inside became our gut, the outside our skin.
🔹 The outside: We shield our bodies from extreme conditions. We turn up the heating, put on thick coats, and avoid cold, hunger, or exertion. Comfort is a form of control—we want to dictate how warm, dry, and pleasant our surroundings are.
🔹 The inside: At the same time, we know we shouldn’t become too comfortable. We take supplements, drink protein shakes, and consume probiotics to keep our microbiome ‘healthy.’ Our phones remind us to drink water, and our smartwatches tell us when we’ve been sitting too long.
Yet, despite all this luxury, we increasingly seek out discomfort: ice baths, fasting, extreme sports, and cold showers. Why?
Because our bodies aren’t built for perpetual ease, but maybe it’s even simpler: hardship makes us happier. Physical effort releases endorphins, short-term stress makes us mentally sharper, and a challenge gives us a deep sense of fulfilment. We don’t feel good despite hardship—we feel good because of it.
That sense of triumph—the shiver after a cold plunge, the satisfaction after physical exertion—gives us the feeling of truly being alive.
Balance: In Life and in Art
Maybe that’s just how it works. Just as a painting needs contrast to come to life, so does our existence. A painting without shadow or variation feels flat; it gains character only when contrast is present.
Our bodies and minds work the same way. Without contrast, we don’t feel balance. There is no cold without warmth, effort without rest, hunger without satisfaction. We seek comfort, but once everything becomes too comfortable, we crave the challenge that shakes us awake.
What Do We Do With This Knowledge?
If contrast fuels both life and creativity, how can we embrace it more consciously?
Do we dare to challenge ourselves more often? Do we not always take the easy route? Try a cold bath, take an unfamiliar path full of uncertainties, or let go of control in our creative work—experiment more, embrace unpredictability, and allow for mistakes. We should strive for harmony while also making space for the raw, the unpolished, and the contrast.
Maybe that’s the real challenge.
I could not agree more! Hardship does make you feel more alive, and I am writing this while lying comfortably on the couch, in front of a nice warm fire, chatting with my wife, on a Saturday evening.