I’m Determined to Keep Caring

You must hold fast to your convictions, for the world will try to pry them from your fingers - not with reason, but with fatigue.

There’s a new kind of ‘vibe’ in the world.

It's not optimism. It’s not empathy. It’s certainly not giving a shit.

It’s detachment. Disbelief. Cynicism dressed in cleverness.

From both the right and the left, we’re being trained in the art of not caring.

On one end, there’s the right's unapologetic pragmatism:

“This works for me and that’s all that matters.”

Whether it’s climate denial, wealth hoarding, or rolling back basic protections for others, the moral compass is replaced with a personal GPS set to convenience.

On the other end, there’s the left’s hyper-relativism:

“Well, how can you prove anything is really right or wrong?”

Everything gets deconstructed, examined, then left in pieces on the floor. Moral clarity evaporates under the microscope of infinite context and subjective interpretation.

Both sides, ironically, land in the same destination:

Nihilism.

The belief that nothing really matters.

That no one can say what’s right.

That nobody is responsible, because everything is relative or self-serving.

This is the poison in our culture right now.

And I’m determined not to drink it.

Because I still believe people matter.

Because empathy is not weakness.

Because acting as if life has dignity is not naive, it’s necessary.

Sam Harris calls it The Moral Landscape. The idea that science can show us that there are objectively better and worse ways to live (you can get an ought from an is). That some outcomes are preferable. That we can know what increases human flourishing, and what destroys it. And if that’s true - if suffering and well-being are real - then caring isn’t optional. It’s rational.

We must stop treating empathy like a liability.

We must stop pretending that moderation is weakness.

We must stop acting like moral clarity is passe.

Because when everyone stops caring, the ones who suffer most are those already suffering.

So this is my stance. My quiet protest in a loud, indifferent world:

I’m determined to keep caring.

In our polarised world, the path to nihilism has become a curious crossroads. Each side of the political spectrum offers its own journey toward the belief that nothing really matters - but they do so in drastically different ways.

On the left, we have relativism. This is the philosophical hammer that fractures all the hard truths we’ve used to guide us for millennia. No longer is there a universal moral code. Every opinion is valid. Every truth is subjective.

“Who’s to say what’s good or bad?”

“We all have our perspectives - who can judge?”

The problem is, when everything is up for debate, when nothing is fixed, we start questioning even the most basic things that have served human society well:

• Dignity.

• Justice.

• Kindness.

  
  

Instead of guiding us toward deeper understanding, we’ve become experts at deconstruction, slicing and dicing concepts until they lose their meaning altogether.

And in this endless dissection, we lose the why behind our actions. Without this foundation, we can’t build anything lasting. All we have left is a perpetual questioning that ends in the abyss of nihilism.

Then, on the right, there’s the self-interested pragmatism that declares:

“I don’t care if it’s good for you. If it’s good for me, that’s all that matters.”

It’s the ideology that turns every societal issue into a transactional one:

• If the environment doesn’t serve me, why should I care?

• If people’s rights don’t affect my bottom line, why bother standing up for them?

  
  

This is a worldview that privileges personal gain over communal well-being. It suggests that morality is just a tool for getting what you want, and any inconvenience to your desires - whether it’s helping those in need, reducing inequality, or even just making decisions with the common good in mind - is a sign of weakness. The problem is, when everyone behaves this way, the collective fabric of society begins to unravel.

Both paths - whether through the left’s relativism or the right’s selfish pragmatism - end up at the same place:

Nihilism.

The belief that nothing matters.

The belief that no one is truly responsible for anything.

The belief that we can do whatever we want because there’s no shared moral ground to hold us accountable.

Moderation is often dismissed as soft. As vague. As fence-sitting.

But in a world rushing headlong toward moral collapse - where empathy is inconvenient, and dignity is unfashionable - moderation is a radical act.

It’s a refusal to be swept away by the seductive simplicity of extremes.

It’s the steady hand on the tiller when the winds of ideology blow hardest.

It’s saying: I see complexity. I see nuance. And I still choose to care.

Moderation isn’t about being lukewarm. It’s about holding fast to the things that keep us human, when the culture around us is quietly shedding them.

Moderates don’t need to shout.

But we do need to show up.

We need to make the case - not just emotionally, but rationally - that some things really are better than others.

This is where The Moral Landscape matters.

Human well-being is not arbitrary. Flourishing and suffering are measurable, and moral questions are ultimately questions of facts - not just feelings.

The science is clear:

• Connection is better than isolation.

• Kindness is better than cruelty.

• Health is better than harm.

  
  

These aren’t vague ideals. They’re grounded in evidence.

We can track them. We can test them. We can know them.

And that means we can act.

That’s the antidote to nihilism.

Because when you realise there are objectively worse worlds, and better ones, you can no longer hide behind indifference. You’re accountable.

Empathy is not optional.

Dignity is not decorative.

They are non-negotiables if we want a society worth living in.

And so, when the world shrugs its shoulders, the moderate responds by lifting their head and saying:

No. I care. I still believe in better. I won’t give up on us.

I’ve seen what happens when people stop caring.

I’ve been in places where dignity was missing, where suffering was invisible, where people were treated like problems to be managed rather than humans to be held.

And I’ve seen what happens when someone does care.

One person, offering empathy where there was only indifference.

One team, choosing values over expedience.

One leader, anchoring to what matters when the tide pulled the other way.

It changes things.

Not in loud, dramatic ways. But in real ways. Quietly. Consistently.

Because caring is contagious. Just as cynicism spreads, so does compassion.

I know, right now, it's tempting to withdraw. To numb. To detach.

But I refuse to stop believing in people.

I refuse to stop defending dignity.

I refuse to stop giving a shit.

So this is where I plant my flag.

Not in ideology.

Not in noise.

But in empathy. In moderation. In the conviction that better is possible, and caring is how we get there.

Let the world grow cynical.

Let the algorithms reward outrage.

Let both extremes laugh at empathy like it’s an outdated idea.

I’ll still care. I’ll still show up. I’ll still act like it matters.

Because it does.

And I hope you will too.