Does knowledge serve us—or have we become slaves to it?
From survival-based learning to complex information systems.
Since the dawn of humanity, knowledge has been fundamental to our evolution and existence.
In the early days, our ancestors sought to know their environment so they could hunt, gather, and cultivate land. Most learning was experiential, acquired through story, and passed down sequential generations.
As civilisations emerged, our quest for knowledge deepened. Writing meant it could be recorded and shared. Libraries became hubs for discovery. Fields like maths, science and philosophy were born as humans sought out to understand the world.
Enter the Renaissance: a time of intellectual awakening. Here, the scientific method was born—popularising observation, reason and evidence over previously relied-on superstition and dogma. Now, knowledge was no longer simply a means for practical living; it was trendy. ‘Enlightening’ yourself with art and literature meant popularity and social acceptance.
The Industrial Revolution marked another turning point, as we harnessed knowledge to not just understand but transform the physical world. Unprecedented efficiency and productivity in manufacturing, transportation and communication birthed complex information systems that changed our relationships to space and time.
Now let’s talk about knowledge’s driver and amplifier—money.
The endless pursuit.
Knowledge is money is power.
We live in a knowledge economy. Our entire economic system is built upon the value of information, as demonstrated by the examples above.
In historical times, wealth was often tangible, measured in assets like cows, goats, and handcrafted goods. Those who inherited, acquired, or conquered these assets dominated the marketplace, with physical goods being the primary currency in trade (plus how good of a salesman you were).
As time went on, the craftiness began. Consider Sally and Sam, both selling shoes. Sally’s shoes, though similar in make, included additions like shining and repairs. Maintenance of the shoes enhanced their appeal, increased their longevity and reduced risk for the buyer, giving Sally (and all suppliers) an opportunity to differentiate and charge a premium. Naturally, this era sparked an explosion of creativity — adding layers of value in the form of services beyond the physical product itself. Now, physical goods were no longer the only currency to play with and power could be achieved by anyone with a brain.
The game changed again with the mass production of goods, as scale and efficiency became key determinants of success. Those with access to machinery could produce better, faster, and cheaper—exploding the size of their markets, and influence. Beyond physical goods and services, technology gave winners their edge. Power came to those with brains and manpower.
Today, the rules have changed again. We’ve reached such a point of saturation in most markets that businesses rely on intellectual assets, continuous innovation and digital capabilities more than anything else. Whoever can adapt the fastest, solve the most meaningful problems, and create value where it did not exist, reaps the greatest reward. Rather than raw manpower, leaders want a collection of brains.
In other words, those who have the greatest banks of knowledge, win.
But, as every economist knows, every opportunity has its trade-off. A benefit always comes with a cost. So, if the rewards for having knowledge are money and survival, what are the risks?
The cost of knowledge.
(That no one speaks of.)
At what point does too much of a good thing become bad?
The costs of acquiring knowledge are often overlooked. Whether we miss this, in the race for information supremacy, or we turn a blind eye, unable to acknowledge it’s a road to nowhere, no one ever stops to question:
Is what we’re doing working?
On the surface, and in the short term, having everything at our fingertips is a remarkable advantage. A golden ticket, a symbol of power, and a sign we can rest easy—at least for now. But information overload is real, not just for our brains, but for our planet.
The ability to process, assimilate, and make meaningful use of our knowledge is no longer just a challenge, but a survival concern.
Psychologically, this overconsumption leads to decision fatigue, persistent anxiety, and a paradoxical paralysis. In other words, information leads to overwhelm, which often results in (a) inaction or (b) the wrong action (which wastes time or sends you backwards).
Ease of access also impacts our ability to think critically, as we risk relying on external sources, in place of developing our own analytical skills (not to mention perpetuating biases).
Socially, the desire for knowledge consumption creates major disparities, amplifying the divide between those who can keep up and those who can’t.
While many argue we have better access than ever, the truth is more knowledge actually entrenches inequality issues.
When you live in a world where both your job and your culture demand it—you’re validated for listening to that podcast or promoted after taking an extra course—the pressure to stay ever-informed can take a serious toll on your mental health.
Most of us are always on the edge of burn-out, fighting to keep up or to let ourselves rest, and battling an increasingly inescapable sense of ‘not enoughness’.
These may not be new problems, but they are newly relevant and more widespread than they ever have been. The sheer volume of information available means we’re sifting, sorting and comparing 24/7. Because both our livelihoods and our lifestyles depend on it.
Our minds can’t catch a break.
Is it time we abandon our infatuation—in favour of something more lasting and profound?
Freedom from the rate race means ditching the shiny object.
So, we’ve analysed the cost-benefit of knowledge on humanity: survival, innovation, efficiency, empowerment and enlightenment versus overload, anxiety, obsession, distraction, inequality, ostracisation and burnout.
Considering knowledge’s natural origins and negative effects, it’s easy to paint ourselves as victims in this scenario. “Our life depends on it”, “All we can do is manage the consequences”, or “There’s no way out”, some might say.
What’s harder to admit is that we’re addicted to the pain-pleasure cycle knowledge perpetuates. That, what once started as a survival need has now morphed into a dangerous habit, where we mistake voracious consumption for progress.
This is a bold statement, I’ll admit. Because it rests on two very large assumptions that, while uncomfortable to realise, are impossible to deny. First, it suggests our endless consumption of knowledge is no longer required for survival. Second, it claims we are driven by, and rely on, an inaccurate correlation between knowledge and success.
Let’s see if these are true, and to what extent, to determine whether humans really are addicted.
Uncomfortable truth #1.
Endless knowledge consumption is not required for survival.
Is it true that what began as a quest for survival has evolved into a sophisticated, interconnected web of information exchange that is more of a life-enhancer or extender than a life-saver?
Indeed, at the individual level, not keeping up with the latest information may place you, your business, or your loved one in hospital, in real danger. However, at the species level, we already have all we need.
According to acclaimed historian, Yuval Noah Harari, “During the last hundred years, technological, economic and political developments have created an increasingly robust safety net separating humankind from the biological poverty line” and “There are no longer natural famines in the world; only political famines.”
He (and many others) go on to explain that there is most certainly enough to go around. And when it comes to humanity’s second greatest challenge, disease, “Both the incidence and impact of epidemics have gone down dramatically in the last few decades.” In particular, “Global child mortality is at an all-time low.” A tell-tale sign of global health levels.
Viewed on whole, we seem to have humanity’s #1 and #2 greatest threats somewhat under control. Considering #3, Harari explains, “Wars too are disappearing”. With these, so are our traditional needs for knowledge, at least in terms of survival.
Here, I make a couple of caveats:
- First, we are likely to face more resilient germs in future generations, and medicine will only keep up if we continue investing in acquiring medical knowledge. Assuming a consistent level of investment, we’ll likely be able to deal with new diseases efficiently and adequately since “pathogens ultimately depend on the blind hand of fortune” whereas “doctors count on more than mere luck” (Harari). In other words, strategy beats randomness, and our efforts compound.
- That being said, one must acknowledge the risks of isolating knowledge consumption to a particular field, plus the potential for biological warfare. Advancements in medicine often come about from insights gained in an adjacent or even unrelated field, so this synergy is something we’ll need to account for if we are to manage consumption. Doing so also requires peace among humans, as much both diseases and the knowledge required to combat them may be spread as a result of intimidation or fear.
- With regards to war, I take care not to discount the significant unrest being faced around the world, especially at this time of writing. But, for the purposes of assessing this hypothetical scenario, this ideal, let’s assume a globalist perspective in which nationalist agendas aren’t present.
Accepting these caveats, it’s reasonable to conclude that, at the species level, there is no longer a biological need for new knowledge.
Uncomfortable truth #2.
We live our lives according to a false assumption that knowledge equals progress.
The second assumption we need to examine is that we’re actually moving forward. This one’s a tough pill to swallow. Especially if, like me, you’ve invested in numerous courses, programs, university degrees and certificates, believing you’re achieving in life, when those things may not deliver meaningful value.
What is ‘real progress’ at the species level? Is it growing GDP, conquering another planet, adding to the list of Nobel Prize winners? Or is it reducing the level of inequality, lowering the number of suicides, and signing peace treaties between countries?
If you live in the Western world, you are taught, since birth, that getting good grades will set you up for success. What does this do for our psyche? It programs the belief that hard work is more valuable than impactful work. It emphasises quantity and consumption, over quality and application.
As a result, we see millions of students, each year, taking out loans they can’t afford to land jobs they hate. We lose genius talent to knowledge-hoarding institutions, instead of being well-compensated for work that actually makes a difference.
Admitting this is painful and ugly, since many of us were ‘fooled’ as children, and have since been fooling others. If this is you, I’m here to remind you that, in most cases, humans are doing the best they can. Ironically, you didn’t have the knowledge to choose otherwise. You saw smart people getting validated and smiling on the outside. But what you didn’t see was their internal dissatisfaction or an extrapolation of the effects, widespread and long-term.
Uncomfortable truth #3.
Knowledge consumption is an addiction.
And so, validating these assumptions, we arrive at the biggest bomb-drop: money and power are but second to the real culprit driving our unquenchable thirst—addiction. Substituting the word ‘substance’ for ‘information’, addiction is defined by the American Psychiatric Association as:
“A complex condition, a brain disease that is manifested by compulsive [information] use despite harmful consequences. People with addiction have an intense focus on using [information] to the point that it takes over their life. They keep using [information] even when they know it will cause problems.”
As we can see, the behaviours exhibited in substance abuse are completely congruent with our current information use. Further, we can find evidence of knowledge addiction in each of the following areas:
Smartphones.
Many people find themselves compulsively checking their devices for news, social media updates, emails and other forms of digital information. This is done out of a desperate need to stay up-to-date, often knowingly, at the expense of mental well-being and productivity.
24-hour news.
The modern media landscape feeds this addiction by providing a never-ending stream of notifications, breaking news, and sensational headlines. Despite recognising their own anxiety and stress, many people remain glued to the TV, confusing that fear-induced cortisol hit for interest or excitement.
School and workplace performance.
Staying competitive among peers drives an intense race for qualifications and skills. Often, this behaviour is driven more by an aversion to obsolescence than a genuine desire for learning, which is what results in such high levels of burn-out.
Data collection.
Businesses rely on metrics to make decisions. And, with information becoming the hottest new asset, they’re constantly collecting data. Confusing true value for trends, many value quantitative information over qualitative insight, unable to see situations properly and sense the market for themselves. Thus, they bury themselves in mountains of irrelevant knowledge.
Academic institutions.
The pressure to publish papers, conduct research, and release new findings is intense. Again, this environment fosters a culture where the value of learning is measured in the volume of outputs (e.g. number of publications) over their application or impact.
Personal development.
While having positive intentions, the self-improvement movement risks instilling an obsessive focus on optimising every area of a person’s life. It’s not uncommon for people to track their diet, exercise, sleep, mood—which may be indicative of an over-reliance rather than a real curiosity that’s conducive.
Blind or aware, each case illustrates how we use knowledge to get a ‘quick hit’, usually some form of short-term validation, at the expense of our own truth, real impact, or long-term satisfaction. In this frenetic gathering, we risk becoming shallow collectors of information rather than sages, keepers of substance, who understand the deeper significance and application of what we know.
So, what’s the alternative?
Is an existence based on something other than knowledge even possible?
In part 3 of The Human Pickle I present the idea of a wisdom-centric world, where we ditch our relentless knowledge quest for a far more peaceful and profound pursuit. We look at the difference between these concepts, examining costs and benefits, including what’s needed to shift out of the capitalist prison information-seeking keeps us in.
If you haven’t already, go back and read part 1 of this series where I introduce Fate, Free Will, And An AI-Powered Future. Reading this, you’ll understand why these conversations are more important than ever, considering the intelligence we now have access to.
An invitation to use your voice.
Prove me wrong, share your perspective.
Meaningful change rests on healthy challenges. So, I invite you to form your own argument. Let’s make this a safe space for critical thinking and questioning. The more diverse a conversation, the stronger our species representation, and the better we can design a future we all love.
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