Dwain Northey (Gen X)

The Planet With Everything… Except the Ability to Share

Isn’t it heartwarming to know we were born on a planet that comes pre-loaded—factory-stock, if you will—with enough resources to feed, house, and sustain every living being strolling, crawling, swimming, or photosynthesizing across its surface? It’s like Earth rolled off the cosmic assembly line with the deluxe package: oceans, forests, metals, fertile soil, an oxygen atmosphere—basically the universe’s version of an all-inclusive resort.

And somehow, somehow, despite this generational jackpot, humanity keeps acting like it’s trapped in a Costco on Black Friday with only three discounted TVs left.

We keep being told the problem is “resource scarcity,” which is adorable, because the actual scarcity is clearly “willingness to share.” Resources we’ve got; distribution we do not. It’s as though the species capable of splitting atoms, landing robots on asteroids, and making 47 varieties of oat milk cannot, for the life of it, figure out how to get food to hungry people or clean water to communities without a multinational corporation taking a cut first.

But the real fun begins when we ask why. Why can’t humanity do a task so simple even kindergarteners master it? (“One for you, one for me, one for the class…”) Ah, but in kindergarten we hadn’t yet unlocked the advanced skill tree of Ego, Greed, and Imaginary Hierarchies.

Somewhere along the evolutionary timeline—right between discovering fire and inventing cryptocurrency—we picked up the idea that some humans are just… more human than others. More deserving. More chosen. More “Ascended,” if you want to dress it in spiritual yoga pants. This convenient belief allows a handful to sit atop mountains of wealth that would make ancient pharaohs blush, while assuring the rest that, spiritually speaking, they obviously chose the “limited access” life plan.

Of course, if ego doesn’t quite explain it, we can always fall back on humanity’s favorite pastime: Greed, the sport in which the winners are the ones who hoard the most while insisting that scarcity is everybody else’s fault. It’s a beautifully circular logic: “There’s not enough because I have most of it, and because I have most of it, clearly I deserve it, which means you don’t, which proves there’s not enough.” Nobel-worthy reasoning, truly.

And the disparity—wow, it’s versatile! It works on every scale. Individuals? Check. Nations? Absolutely. Entire regions? Oh yes, we’ve globalized inequality like pros. It’s incredible that a species that can coordinate worldwide streaming for a new sitcom cannot coordinate getting clean drinking water to every human being. Maybe if basic necessities came with monthly subscription fees, we’d figure it out.

But maybe the real punchline is this: the planet isn’t failing us. The resources aren’t failing us. We are failing us—spectacularly, creatively, consistently. And we’re doing it while insisting we’re the most intelligent life form around, which is possibly the funniest part of the whole cosmic comedy.

One day, perhaps, humanity will collectively look in the mirror, realize the planet isn’t the problem, and decide to fix the distribution systems that currently function with the efficiency of a toddler managing a stock portfolio.

Until then, we’ll keep living on a planet that has everything… except the ability to share.