We live in a culture of “no time.” There is no time to listen, to accompany, to pause and consider the other person’s story. There is no time to support processes, for human development, for encounter. Everything seems to be measured by productivity, usefulness, and immediate results. And when a society begins to value people primarily for what they produce, it risks forgetting something essential: that people have dignity before they are useful.

These past few days, I was listening to a friend reflect on his work experiences, and it got me thinking about how often the treatment we receive seems to depend less on who we are and more on how much we can serve the interests of others. When a company invests in someone, trains them, integrates them, and makes them feel like they belong, a friendly and approachable relationship usually develops. But when someone becomes a replaceable part, when they cease to be seen as an investment or an opportunity, manners, consideration, and even basic respect often disappear.

Perhaps that’s why so many people feel they live surrounded by transactional relationships. Relationships where someone’s value is measured by their connections, their position, the benefits they can generate, or the profitability they bring. And when those attributes disappear, so does some of the interest. It doesn’t always happen this way, but it happens often enough for many to become distrustful.

The culture of “no time” fuels this logic. Because when there is no time to get to know the other person, they are reduced to a function. When there is no time to listen, they are converted and categorized with the label “resource.” When there is no time to understand their story, they are transformed into a number, a statistic, or an operational cost.

However, I believe the problem isn’t solely economic or business-related. There’s something deeper at play. It’s a crisis of perspective. We’ve learned to ask ourselves what someone can contribute before asking who they are. We’ve become accustomed to evaluating people using the same criteria we use to evaluate projects. And so we end up creating environments where efficiency and results abound, but recognition, gratitude, and humanity are scarce.

The blow is too hard for those who come from environments where trust, collaboration, or certain ideals prevail. When they encounter more hostile environments, they discover that not everyone plays by the same rules. They discover that often the world doesn’t treat others as one is willing to treat them. And that experience can be painful, but also revealing.

I am convinced that the challenge of our time is to resist that logic. To continue seeing people where others see only resources. To continue listening to stories where others see resumes. To continue believing that someone’s value does not depend on their immediate usefulness. Because a society that loses that capacity may gain speed, productivity, and efficiency, but it risks losing something far more important: its humanity.