Dating back to the 12th century, Bernard of Chartres is the first cited philosopher (by John of Salisbury in The Metalogicon, 1159) articulating the concept of standing on the shoulders of those who have gone before us, allowing us to see further, not through any "sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by [our predecessors'] giant size".

We build on what they learned, we extend their thinking and expand our horizons through continuing their work through the ages. It's how legacies are shaped. It's how progress forges forward. The work of the few drags the rest of us towards the future with the promise of shiny things and a better life.

And yet still, we are myopic.

We are constantly making decisions based on short-term gain despite the promise of long-term devastation.

In March 2019, Roman Krznaric, wrote a piece for the BBC titled, "Why we need to reinvent democracy for the long-term". He quoted Scottish philosopher, David Hume, who wrote in 1739 that government institutions, like the foundations democracy, would "temper" what he called the "narrowness of souls, which makes [individuals] prefer the present to the remote."

He believed that our selfish desires would be set aside, under the protection of the institutions of government, in favour of long-term interests for the betterment of us as a society.

Oh, how Hume would lament our current state of affairs.

Our politicians seem to live election to election, some from tweet to tweet, with a marked preference for the appearance of an outcome that cites progress as its pilot and delivers useful soundbites for media reporting, rather than making any palpable difference that will stretch into the future.

How many times have we seen election promises designed to seduce the voter, never make it to fruition, or at least, not in the way it was intended? Too many to count.

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We need look no further than climate change to consider the myopia of our leadership over the last 15 years. I remember watching Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth back in 2006 and seeing on the screen a set of scales.

On one side of the scales was a pile of money; on the other side, the entire planet. I remember looking at this imagery and thinking that it seems so simple.

Why is this even a question? What is the point of money if there's no planet?

If we took money out of the equation, how do you think this would change the way we, as a society, perceive ... well ... everything?

Would climate change be an issue? Would healthcare be an issue? Would homelessness be an issue? Would anything?

Is it money that is holding us back? Could it really be this simple? Was the apostle Paul right when he said that all wrongdoing can be traced to an excessive attachment to material wealth?

Maybe it's deeper than that. Maybe it's not about money itself, but the fear of losing it that drives us, as a society, to hoard wealth and assets, at the expense of all else.

Including investments, derivatives and cryptocurrencies, the wealth of our world is in excess of US$1 quadrillion. According to the 2022 Credit Suisse report, 47.8 per cent is in the hands of just 1.2 per cent of the world's population.

With that kind of financial backing, the not-so-secret weapon of the mega-rich is power. Once you have power, a person tends to want to keep it, regardless of fairness, equity, and compassion. Potentially losing money and with it, power, for a piddling little issue like climate change, is unthinkable, right?

Can you imagine having that kind of power and using it to protect the future of not only your children, but everyone's children, with the vision to seeing a better world for everyone?

Rabindranath Tagore said: "The one who plants trees, knowing that he or she will never sit in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life."

And what is life, if it is devoid of meaning? When your why ends where it begins: money?

Food for thought, no?