Every generation believes it stands at the pinnacle of progress, and every generation is both right and wrong. We are right because we have indeed advanced beyond what came before—our medicine is more effective, our communication faster, our access to knowledge more democratic than at any point in human history. We are wrong because we tend to confuse advancement with arrival, as if progress were a destination rather than a direction.

Consider the automobile. When Henry Ford's assembly line made cars affordable in the early twentieth century, it was celebrated as a triumph of innovation. Families could travel freely. Rural communities gained access to cities. Commerce accelerated. And yet, within decades, the same invention contributed to urban sprawl, air pollution, traffic fatalities, and a dependence on fossil fuels that now threatens the global climate. The car did not stop being an achievement. But it became clear that achievement is never cost-free.

This pattern repeats throughout history. The printing press democratized knowledge and also enabled propaganda. Antibiotics saved millions of lives and also created resistant bacteria. The internet connected the world and also fractured our attention.

None of this means we should reject progress. It means we should pursue it with open eyes. The measure of a society is not how quickly it innovates, but how honestly it reckons with the consequences of its innovations.

The philosopher Hans Jonas wrote that modern technology has introduced "a new dimension of responsibility." Previous generations could act locally and trust that the effects would remain local. We no longer have that luxury. A decision made in one boardroom can alter the atmosphere. A piece of software released in one country can reshape elections in another.

Progress, then, is not a force to be celebrated or feared. It is a force to be governed—carefully, collectively, and with a willingness to ask the hardest question of all: Just because we can, should we?