学进去

Not long after my daughter was born in early 2013, I had a serious thought about the life that lay ahead for her. With health and luck, she will live long enough to see the dawn of the 22nd century.

As a journalist, I often encounter the date 2100. It’s a milestone year frequently mentioned in climate change news reports, stories about future technologies and science fiction. But it’s so far ahead that the route we will take to get there is difficult to see. I rarely consider that, like my daughter, millions of people alive today will be there as 2100 arrives, inheriting the century my generation will leave behind.

For many of us, how often can we truly say we are thinking about the well-being of these future generations? How often do we think about the impact of our decisions on the decades and centuries ahead?

Part of the problem is that the “‘now’commands so much more attention,” the sociologist Elise Boulding once said. “If one is mentally out of breath all the time from dealing with the present, there is no energy left for imagining the future.” No wonder problems like climate change or inequality feel so hard to handle right now.

That’s why researchers are coming to the same conclusion that short-termism (短期主义) may be the greatest threat our species is facing this century. Despite our natural ability to look and plan ahead, we have a weakness in our thinking called “present bias.” For example, people are more likely to accept an offer of£10 today, rather than a guarantee of £12 in a week. They also tend to spend on pleasures, not save for rainy days.

I understand the dangers of short-termism. I can both justify the argument and feel the need to care more about future generations. But I admit I still struggle with how to translate that into clear action as an individual. To realize that we are just one in a chain of generations, we owe an obligation (义务) to our future generations to leave a better world than the one we inherited ourselves.