Maq Masi Blog

Human civilisation has always been shaped by a fundamental question: how should we live? Should we continue as we have—competing over resources, waging wars for power, and exploiting nature for short-term gains? Or should we evolve into a society that prioritises sustainability, cooperation, and balance? The answer lies in understanding the forces that drive us—our needs, our desires, and the conflicts that arise when they clash.

At the most basic level, survival must be ensured. Every living being—human, animal, or plant—requires water, food, air, and shelter. These are non-negotiable. However, survival alone is not enough. Humans are not just biological organisms; we are social, intellectual, and emotional beings. Beyond basic needs, we require safety, stability, connection, and purpose. A world where survival is a daily struggle is not a world in which humans can thrive.

But survival depends on resources, and resources are finite. Land, water, minerals, and fossil fuels are all limited, and our reckless consumption has put many of them at risk. The more we extract, the more we deplete, and the closer we push ourselves to a future of scarcity and conflict. The wars in the Middle East over oil, the deforestation of the Amazon for agricultural expansion, and the tensions over water rights in Africa and Asia all stem from the same core issue: who gets what, and at whose expense?

The flaw in our current way of life is that it is built on competition rather than balance. Nations race to extract the most resources, corporations seek endless profits, and individuals consume more than they need. This mindset is rooted in the idea that success is measured by dominance—over nature, over markets, over other people. But this is a false and short-sighted way to live. A world that thrives on extraction, waste, and inequality is ultimately self-destructive. If we continue this way, we will find ourselves trapped in a cycle of scarcity, conflict, and environmental collapse.

This flawed measurement of success is deeply embedded in economic models, particularly in how we define progress. GDP, the dominant indicator of economic growth, rewards extraction and consumption. The more a nation produces and consumes, the higher its GDP, even if that production depletes natural resources, pollutes the environment, or increases waste. A country that over-mines its forests or overuses fossil fuels appears to be “growing” economically, despite causing long-term ecological and social harm. GDP ignores balance and sustainability. If a nation prioritises sustainable practices—such as conservation, circular economies, or reduced consumption—it may see slower GDP growth, even though these practices are better for long-term stability. This creates a paradox where destructive economic activity is rewarded while responsible behaviour is not.

GDP does not measure inequality, meaning that a rising GDP does not indicate whether wealth is equitably distributed. A country can have high GDP growth while most of its population struggles with poverty, stagnant wages, or lack of access to basic services. This leads to economic instability, resentment, and, in some cases, social unrest or conflict. GDP also incentivises endless growth, reinforcing the idea that more is always better—more production, more consumption, more expansion. But in a finite world, endless growth is impossible without consequences. This leads to resource depletion, environmental destruction, and global competition over limited energy supplies. Counterintuitively, GDP also benefits from disasters and inefficiencies. Wars, natural disasters, and medical crises can boost GDP. If a country goes to war and spends billions on military equipment, GDP increases. If a city is destroyed by a hurricane and must be rebuilt, GDP rises. If more people fall sick and require expensive medical treatment, healthcare spending increases GDP. But these are not indicators of real progress; they are symptoms of inefficiencies and crises being counted as economic gains.

History has shown that when resources are scarce or security is at risk, conflict becomes inevitable. Wars have been fought over fertile land, fresh water, and access to vital trade routes. The Syrian Civil War was fuelled not just by political unrest but also by climate change-induced droughts that displaced millions, intensifying economic hardship. The war in Ukraine has shaken global food and energy markets, affecting countries thousands of miles away. Even ancient wars, like those between city-states in Mesopotamia, were often about securing access to fertile land and water. At their core, wars are battles for energy in its many forms—from food calories to fossil fuels to the economic power that sustains nations.

Yet, war is not just destruction; it has been an engine of technological progress. World War I accelerated aviation and radio communication. World War II led to nuclear energy, radar, and medical breakthroughs. The Cold War pushed humanity into space, leading to satellite technology and global communication networks. These conflicts did not just birth new inventions—they forced humanity to refine, scale, and implement innovations that now define modern life. The internet, GPS, and advanced medical treatments all have wartime origins. But do we need war to innovate, or can necessity and collaboration drive the same progress without destruction?

Just as conflict shapes human history, so does our control over nature. Humans selectively preserve some species and eliminate others based on their utility or threat to survival. We protect livestock for food while eradicating pests to safeguard crops. Insecticides wipe out entire species to boost agricultural yields, but this comes at a cost—disrupting ecosystems, harming pollinators, and reducing biodiversity. The ethical question is profound: who decides which species live and which perish? The same logic applies to warfare—nations determine who is an ally and who is an enemy, often without considering long-term consequences. Just as exterminating one species can destabilise an ecosystem, eliminating entire cultures and societies through war leaves irreversible scars on civilisation.

Despite the inevitability of competition, history also offers an alternative to conflict: cooperation. Nations have resolved disputes through diplomacy rather than war. The Antarctic Treaty ensured that an entire continent remains free from military conflict and resource exploitation. Countries that once fought over water have signed agreements to share it, proving that survival does not have to be a zero-sum game. Technological advancements are now shifting the balance. The rise of renewable energy—solar, wind, and nuclear fusion—offers a pathway away from fossil fuel dependence, reducing the need for wars over oil and gas. Countries investing in these alternatives are securing their future without engaging in territorial disputes over depleting resources.

Instead of relying on GDP as the primary metric of success, nations could adopt balanced indicators such as the Genuine Progress Indicator (GPI), which adjusts GDP by factoring in environmental costs, income inequality, and social well-being. The Human Development Index (HDI) measures economic success in terms of education, life expectancy, and quality of life rather than just raw production. A Happiness Index or Well-Being Economy prioritises social happiness, mental health, and environmental sustainability. Ecological Footprint Accounting measures how much of nature’s resources a country consumes versus how much it can regenerate. GDP, as it currently stands, reflects a system of competition, extraction, and short-term gains rather than balance and sustainability. If the world continues to measure success through GDP alone, it risks deepening cycles of scarcity, inequality, conflict, and environmental collapse. The challenge is to redefine progress—not as endless consumption, but as a sustainable balance that ensures long-term survival and well-being for all.

The real challenge lies in how humanity chooses to manage energy, resources, security, and conflict. If we continue to exploit finite resources without conservation, wars will persist. If we innovate and shift towards sustainability, conflict can be minimised. The choice is not whether conflict will exist—it always will—but whether we respond with violence or innovation, destruction or adaptation. Survival should not be a battle; it should be a collective mission, where intelligence, cooperation, and sustainable progress ensure that both needs and desires can be met without war.