Rendering Yourself Obsolete

“For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.”
– Ecclesiastes 1:18

We live in an age where self-improvement is not just encouraged—it is expected. Millennials and Gen Z have been raised with the idea that optimization is the path to success. We are told to refine our skills, increase our knowledge, enhance our creativity, and push ourselves to new heights. Progress has become so ingrained in our culture that standing still feels like falling behind. But what happens when we push too far? What if, instead of elevating ourselves, we disappear entirely?

Progress is not just movement—it is control over time. The more you push yourself, the further ahead you move in relation to the people around you. To innovate is to time-travel, to live in a reality that others have yet to reach. Whether it's through knowledge, skill, or a forward-thinking approach to life, extreme self-improvement displaces you in time. You exist in a future that has not yet arrived for everyone else. And because the present is what dictates recognition, you may find that your work, your ideas, or even your identity remain invisible.

And so you wait.

But by the time the world catches up, your moment has already passed. The very thing you spent years perfecting only becomes relevant once it is no longer yours to own. By then, you have moved further ahead, disconnected from what was once your defining breakthrough. To everyone else, you have finally arrived. But to you, it is already over.

This is the ultimate irony of progress: the faster you move, the more you outpace recognition. You become someone waiting in a future that has not yet come, watching as others gradually enter a space you no longer inhabit. This is why so many innovators, artists, and thinkers go unrecognized in their time—because they are quite literally living in another time.

We assume that progress is a linear path toward recognition, that if we keep improving, we will eventually be valued. But progress, in isolation, does not guarantee significance. The world does not reward depth; it rewards accessibility. Those who package their work in a way that is digestible to the present are the ones who succeed. Those who create at the edge of the future must wait for the world to catch up—if it ever does.

The tragedy is that many never see that day. Their work lingers in obscurity, their brilliance unappreciated. They are not failures in the traditional sense; they have simply gone too far, too soon. And in doing so, they have rendered themselves obsolete—not because what they have done lacks value, but because value itself is contingent on recognition.

In our relentless pursuit of self-optimization, particularly among Millennials and Gen Z, we’ve been conditioned to believe that continuous personal evolution is the pathway to success. However, as artificial intelligence (AI) rapidly acquires intellectual and creative capabilities, the very areas we’ve strived to master are becoming domains where machines excel. This shift raises a critical question: In a future where AI can outperform humans in cognitive and creative tasks, what value does our personal progress hold?

Consider physicality—the one realm where AI doesn’t compete. While maintaining a strong, healthy body is essential, its significance diminishes if societal structures offer limited opportunities to apply physical skills meaningfully. As AI continues to permeate various industries, the landscape of available roles is transforming, often reducing the demand for human physicality.

A pertinent example is South Korea, a nation with one of the highest rates of tertiary education attainment globally. As of 2023, approximately 69.7% of South Koreans aged 25 to 34 have completed higher education, ranking first among OECD countries. Despite this impressive educational achievement, the country faces an oversaturated job market. In 2022, the employment rate for university graduates stood at 66.3%, leaving a significant portion of educated individuals struggling to find employment. This paradox highlights that when progress becomes ubiquitous, its value diminishes, leading to a scenario where individual advancement does not equate to societal or professional success.

In essence, extreme progress is not just advancement—it is displacement. It moves you into a space where few can follow, where comprehension lags behind creation, where relevance is dictated not by merit but by timing. If the world does not move with you, your progress is indistinguishable from exile.

The more we refine, the more we separate. The more we separate, the less we are understood. And what cannot be understood, no matter how extraordinary, will always be mistaken for nothing at all.