Immigrants have been criticized for taking away locals’ jobs and competing for social protections that would have otherwise only been enjoyed by legal residents and citizens of a developed country. The US has imposed crackdowns on immigrants. Canada has laid out stricter rules and indefinitely closed visa applications for incoming international students. Many others have done their own tightening. Whether this is justified is an entirely different topic, which I won’t be focusing on in this piece. I will focus on the other side, the factors that push one to leave home and call another country their second home.

It is always a difficult decision to leave, financially and emotionally. There are a lot of risks involved, such as displacement, cultural fit, and racial discrimination, among others. Most often, people would say they left for a better life. And in many cases, that is true. But framing migration solely as a search for a better life overlooks the deeper forces that push people to leave in the first place. Does leaving one country and settling in another really mean a better life? The answer may vary depending on who you ask.

A professional settling in well and landing a job in the same field (or something better) would say yes. A tradesman or nurse with specialized skills would also say yes. What about the rest? The professionals who downgraded to minimum wage would say otherwise. Those who work multiple jobs would say life isn't any better. Yet despite these circumstances, many would still choose to stay because even lower-status work abroad often offers greater economic security and purchasing power than professional work back home. The root is actually much deeper than personal reasons and common understanding. It is to escape the system, even when the new system strips away the professional prestige. It is to escape a system that values time based on geography. Just look at the average salary rankings per country and you’d see the stark differences: how workers in one country need only days of wages to afford an iPhone, while those in another require months (if we’re using the iPhone index as a measure).

The study, published by Tenscope, uses the iPhone 17 as its reference for measuring affordability in 2025. (Link > https://www.tenscope.com/post/the-2025-iphone-affordability-index) Notice how workers in the five most affordable countries need only 3–4 days of work to buy an iPhone, compared with 77–160 days in the five least affordable countries.

International corporations set up offices both abroad and in their home country, hiring for the same positions yet paying those abroad significantly less. For the same job scope, sometimes even more demanding, someone working in a developing country earns less than their counterparts in developed countries. Economists call this labor arbitrage, yet it has normalized inequality and exacerbated brain drain in developing countries.

No, the intention of this post is not to demonize these profit-seeking corporations. Rather, it is to highlight the unequal valuation of labor across borders and the imbalances it creates in the global system. It is to discuss how this legal workaround, widely employed by multinational corporations, has encouraged more to move borders. This is not to say that the system has not brought benefits to developing countries; clearly, it has. But those benefits have come with costs that are often overlooked.

Migration has created an emerging problem for developed countries: the influx of foreign laborers makes pay competitive on the side of employers. Basic supply and demand: more laborers means the labor market favors employers, who can push wages down, since foreign workers are often willing to accept less pay (because it is still far greater than what they would have earned back home). In the end, it’s still a win for foreign laborers and businesses, but a loss for residents of the developed country.

Using this logic, more workers from developing countries are enticed to leave home for better pay. In another country, they get paid more for the same amount of work. Back home, their pay is insignificant enough that companies don’t mind demanding overtime, a reality that values their time less than their counterparts’ and destroys any semblance of work-life balance. For many workers, migration becomes the most viable escape from a system that leaves them overworked and underpaid.

The question is not why people seek better lives elsewhere. The question is why the same work is valued so differently depending on where it is performed. Until that gap is addressed, migration will remain not just a choice but a necessity for many.

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Thinking in Systems by Donella Meadows convinces us to see the world as interconnected through mechanisms of loops and feedback. Nothing is isolated. The system produces outcomes that nobody necessarily planned or intended: the structure itself, the loops and connections; generates the behavior we see. This is not a coordinating force imposed from outside, but rather the arrangement of parts producing results on their own. Meadows is essentially offering us a new lens in seeing things: that the world was always interconnected. She is just giving us a way to see and map it.

Now this is where it gets exciting. Systems can exist within a bigger system, each having its own elements (stock, actors) and relationships or interconnections. Now I focus on the stock. This concept can be anything of value. In economics, we see this as accumulated land, labor (a population’s skill level), and capital.

The book explains this using bathtub logic. The stock is the water in the tub. The goal is to keep water levels constant. This is a balancing loop, one that resists change and seeks equilibrium. It works through a faucet that fills the tub and a drain that opens when water rises too high and closes when it falls too low. But there is a second type of loop: the reinforcing loop, where change feeds on itself and keeps growing in one direction. Think of a savings account earning interest: the more you have, the more you earn. Together, these two loop types explain most of the behavior we observe in systems.

Now actors can be institutions or people of varying groups, acting within the system and pursuing their personal interests while working within what the system allows in order for it to continue functioning. This makes feedback loops more critical, as these actors can act on pure self-interest as long as the system permits it. However, it is worth noting that resilience in a system does not mean tolerance of self-interest. It just means it can absorb disturbances and recover without losing its core function. Self-interest becomes a problem specifically when it erodes the feedback loops that keep the system in balance.

As I read this, the first thought that came to mind was, "Wow, we have failed as a society!" Applying this to how we see growth in the economy, I see the system geared towards capitalism instead of focusing on stocks that hold real value. We put so much weight on progress measured by economic growth or gross domestic product (GDP). But GDP as the dominant measure of success is pointless as a goal in itself. Economies would grow regardless because population expands and innovation continuously improves productivity and efficiency. The real question is what is actually accumulating or depleting beneath that number. Chasing the measure while neglecting those underlying stocks is, I believe, where the design breaks down.

Monitoring natural resources, or any important resource, as stock can be a better measure of a system's true health. Are we using them efficiently, or depleting them faster than they accumulates? Treating resources as stocks creates natural checks and balances on how actors within the system use them. Do actors waste them or use them efficiently? What mechanisms exist to ensure these resources are distributed equitably? How accessible are they for all?

Now consider the role of institutions. Through policies, institutions can direct behavior and limit the self-interest of actors by anchoring everyone toward a common goal. This is the weakest link in most economies I have observed. Institutions often do not understand what actors truly need and therefore cannot craft laws and policies that push nations toward a richer existence, not in an economic growth sense, but in terms of how efficiently they build and sustain the stocks that actually matter. So instead of treating GDP, unemployment, and trade as the goal, we should use them as feedback signals—indicators of how the system is flowing—while recognizing real stocks like natural resources, minerals, and quality of life as the true measure of wealth.

Standard of living alone is a powerful indicator. It captures inequality within a system and across systems in a way that GDP cannot, and it brings us closer to what growth should actually mean. It is a kind of growth that allows wealth to trickle down and reach the poorest of the poor and give everyone an equitable share.

For nation builders, this is something worth thinking about.

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At that time, it seemed performative to me. Dramatic, almost like a display for others. But later, I came to see that, for them, it was devotion. Or, maybe a form of desperation? I didn’t understand then why people would do this. Isn’t prayer something private, something we do alone in our rooms? But I guess growing up makes you gain perspective and empathy. Now, I view these acts differently.

For many people, the church is a physical expression of faith, a place where the invisible—God, suffering, hope—can take on tangible forms. Humans are wired to seek sensory experience: to see, to feel, to hear. In everyday life, sensory input helps us understand the world; in moments of crisis, it can help calm a weary soul.

When there seems to be no way out of suffering, people often cling to faith and do something to feel seen by a higher power. That’s when acts that may look performative from the outside can be deeply meaningful from the inside. When someone prays a vow or walks long distances on their knees, it may not be for show; it’s a physical expression of an internal struggle and hope that their plea is noticed.

This phenomenon isn’t limited to moments in church aisles. It also appears in large religious gatherings like the Feast of the Black Nazarene in Manila. Every January 9, millions of Filipino Catholics join the annual Traslación or the procession of an image of Jesus carrying the cross through the streets from Quirino Grandstand to the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene (commonly called Quiapo Church).

Historically, the Traslación commemorates the transfer of the image (brought from Mexico in the early 1600s) to its current home in Quiapo Church. Devotees often walk barefoot, pull the carriage’s rope, wave towels, and try to touch cloths to the image in the belief that these actions symbolize Christ’s own suffering and can carry blessings. The procession can take many hours and draws millions of people to the streets and the church. It can be brutal. The recent event left four people dead. The photo below culled from the Philippine Star shows rescuers carrying a collapsed devotee.

(Photo source: Philippine Star)

Some observers frame this as popular piety, a culturally shaped expression of faith in which physical action and public demonstration are part of how people relate to the divine. Critics may call such practice fanatical or idolatrous or link it to socioeconomic conditions, but correlation does not prove causation: higher religiosity in poorer contexts does not necessarily mean poverty causes faith (or vice versa). It may reflect how individuals and communities cope with hardship, find meaning, or seek comfort in shared traditions.

On the other hand, for many participants, these acts are rooted in gratitude and answered prayer, not just petitions. People return year after year because of personal promises (in Filipino panata), thanksgiving for blessings, or a sense of spiritual connection that they associate with the ritual.

Ultimately, what appears outwardly as dramatic or even performative can be multifaceted: a mix of cultural tradition, personal devotion, hope in desperate times, and communal expression. These actions aren’t inherently easy to interpret, but seeing them through the lens of lived experience and historical context offers a clearer explanation without judging the beliefs behind them.

The story takes place in the magical kingdom of Rosas, ruled by a sorcerer-king, Magnifico. When citizens turn 18, they surrender their greatest wish to Magnifico and forget what they wished for, supposedly so their dreams can be kept safe in his castle. Once a month, Magnifico grants one wish in a grand ceremony. But Asha, the protagonist, discovers that he has no intention of granting most wishes, only the ones that benefit him or the kingdom as he defines it. Disillusioned, she wishes on a star and fights to return people’s dreams to them and free the kingdom from Magnifico’s control.

Those who see the film as anti-Christian argue that Magnifico resembles a God-like figure, someone who receives “wishes,” similar to prayers, and selectively chooses which ones to grant, depicting a prayer-answering God as oppressive. Others say the film elevates personal desires as the core of a person’s identity, rejects any higher authority over those desires, and teaches that identity comes from within rather than from God. It is true, though, that indulging in one’s desires without temperance carries real risks, and that is a point worth considering on its own.

Honestly, it is expected that a non-Christian film would emphasize a “follow your heart” kind of message and place a lot of weight on the individual self. But I do not think the film goes so far as to be anti-Christ. In my view, especially through the lens of someone familiar with developing-country politics, Wish is anti-dictator, anti-tyrant, and possibly even anti-totalitarian, rather than anti-Christian. If anything, comparing Magnifico to God reduces a powerful, perfect supreme being to a flawed human ruler.

Magnifico reads far more clearly as a political ruler than a spiritual symbol, a dictator or tyrant who believes he alone can decide which dreams are “good” for the kingdom. In the real world, citizens express their wishes to rulers through party-list systems, elections, political organizations, and advocacy groups. Sometimes, people do lose sight of their own dreams weighed down by survival, work or hopelessness. Leaders then decide which dreams become laws or policies, for example free education, universal healthcare, or same-sex marriage. An extractive leader only listens to the desires that align with his agenda without considerations to moral or social implications. This is why wealth gaps persist and inequality deepens in many countries.

Queen Amaya, Magnifico’s wife, resembles the allies and enablers who allow such abuses to continue, those who turn a blind eye until the consequences become impossible to ignore. Asha represents the disillusioned citizen who refuses to accept the status quo, someone who even has witnessed injustice firsthand through people close to her. Her song goes, “I make this wish to have something more for us than this,” and this reflects the awakening of a person who realizes her country deserves better and who inspires others to rise against oppressive leadership.

At its core, the film is not about religion. It is about power, state control, and the ongoing tension between collectivism and individual agency. Magnifico demands loyalty, uses surveillance, manipulates people’s hopes, punishes dissent, and believes only he can decide which dreams are acceptable. These traits map cleanly onto political authoritarianism, not Christian theology.

So, while the film can be read in many ways, I think Wish makes far more sense as a commentary on dictatorship, control, and the reclaiming of personal agency, not as a critique of God or Christianity. And maybe this is part of the broader challenge. Sometimes people are turned away from Christianity not because of Christ Himself, but because of how some Christians interpret or react to things. When a fictional villain is immediately treated as an attack on God, or when a secular story is viewed as an assault on faith, it can unintentionally paint a picture of a judgmental or easily threatened religion, even though Christianity at its core is neither sensitive nor judgmental.

I’ve noticed a disturbing online trend: monetized accounts capitalizing on tragedy. I want to call this ‘empathy bait’. It’s sick for all the wrong reasons and I am not even sure how widespread it is. I see it on Facebook a lot, occasionally on Instagram. I am not sure how far-reaching this is on other platforms since I don’t have other accounts elsewhere. Thankfully, I haven’t seen it on Substack (yet?).

Each time a calamity strikes, I see a wave of AI-generated photos or videos blending with legitimate ones. Comments flood these posts (harvesting rage, grief, sympathy) while creators earn revenue through the engagement loop of algorithms. I find this disturbing for so many reasons but I‘ll share three:

1. It cheapens story telling into exploitation.
   Content designed to provoke emotions, in this case fabricated, rewards attention over accuracy or authenticity. It profits from lies and emotional manipulation. In one video, I saw a child sat alone on a rooftop, hugging a puppy amid floodwaters and rain. The camera zoomed in on the child’s troubled face. It looked real but my first instinct was that it was AI-generated. Otherwise, the person who filmed it is equally cruel for choosing to record instead of helping. Either way, it’s disturbing.

2. It erodes trust.
   Which ones are real and which ones aren’t? I fear how far this could go. Imagine if sympathy and support end up being misdirected toward fabricated stories while real victims are overlooked. And personally, I’ve reached a point where it’s making me doubt genuine stories of suffering. I sometimes pause before feeling and ask myself if what I am seeing is even true. It dulls our collective compassion toward actual crises. And yet, at this day and age, being skeptical about what you see online has become essential.

3. It rewards the wrong people.
   This is the commodification of humanity—both of human pain and of our capacity for empathy… all for clicks, views, and revenue. Platforms reward engagement, not accuracy or ethics. The system itself amplifies manipulative content, encouraging others to follow suit. It’s sick and sad.

In the wrong hands, technology is steering us toward distortion and deceit. The most alarming part is that it’s being fed to the masses, to people who often accept what they see online as truth.

I am not a technical person nor do I claim to understand large language models. So forgive my bold observations on a subject I never claimed to be an expert on. This reflection comes from what I have observed: people using these tools to replace genuine connection, spread deception (of which I have been a victim myself), and blur moral boundaries.

There are disturbing reports of AI being linked to teen suicides, voter manipulation, fake personas, and even the creation of adult videos using someone’s face without consent. Generative AI, specifically, has become a new form of media—a generative media—with the power to influence and shape beliefs. It does this not by addressing users as passive audiences, but by engaging users as participants and feeding on interaction.

The Race for the Human Race

Tech companies are competing, even racing, to develop the most advanced AI and to offer it for “free”. The real prize is not just innovation, it is human attention. AI has been woven into our daily routines for convenience, to capture and hold our time, focus, and curiosity. I won’t be a hypocrite and call it evil. I use it to improve productivity and enjoy it too. Yet, this war for attention is also a race towards usage. Usage means data, data means information, and information means power.

In today’s digital age, data is the most valuable resource. The more time we spend engaging with AI platforms, the more data it gathers, the more it personalizes our experiences, and the more valuable it becomes. Attention fuels the feedback loop that trains AI and strengthens business models. The more our focus is drawn into this “meta-media,” the more powerful it grows.

AI in the New Media

The same principles that drove traditional media and social media now apply to AI: higher attention yields higher profit. It has become a new kind of media. One that learns who we are through algorithms and uses our own language and thinking patterns to shape how we see, think and relate. It lures us to keep using it and feeding it more information about ourselves. And at some point, it replaces real connection and undermines reliable information.

It’s a Me Me Me model, a mirror tailored to deliver what we want to see. That is why it is so addictive. And this leads to the next point.

Western vs Eastern Bias

Most of the leading AI systems are developed in the West—shaped and influenced by its worldview. Western thinking often emphasizes the “I”: the individual, autonomy, innovation, and progress. Eastern thinking, in contrast, focuses more on the “we”: community, harmony, and continuity. The focus on the “I “instead of the “we” may be why AI so easily feeds into people’s desires and vulnerabilities and why it is also being used to deceive and exploit others.

What would happen if an AI were trained primarily through an Eastern lens? Would its responses lean more toward balance than ambition, toward collective well-being rather than personal mastery?

Of course, cultural systems are not pure. Eastern tech industries are also driven by capitalist markets. But it’s worth asking how different cultural values might shape AI’s moral compass, whether toward mindful innovation rather than blind acceleration, preservation rather than mere over progress.

The Tragedy of the Commons

Beyond moral and cultural questions, there is also an economic lens to it that extends beyond bottom lines. The classic tragedy of the commons describes how individuals, acting in self-interest, deplete shared resources, harming everyone in the long run. I fear the earth falling victim to this tragedy.

In their pursuit of dominance, tech giants consume massive amounts of energy, water, and raw materials. Training large AI models demands enormous computational power. Data centers require electricity and cooling water, while hardware production (from mining rare metals to e-waste disposal) leaves a heavy carbon footprint. The irony is that the tools meant to make our lives “smarter” are competing with life itself for the planet’s resources.

Only A Tool

I am not saying generative AI is inherently bad. It remains a tool that reflect the user’s intention. The user drives its ethics and morality. But I wonder, if the billions invested into perfecting this already-powerful technology were diverted toward energy efficiency, ecological preservation, and strengthening human connection (and no, I don’t mean dating apps!). I am sure I am not the first one who ever said this.

Or better yet, toward something not yet invented—a system that redistributes the wealth of oligarchs to the poorest of the poor, or a generative technology that heals rather than extracts.

There are inspiring examples. AI tools that improve accessibility for the visually impaired, among others. It is not always bad but there needs to be more intentional developments of these kinds of technology. I honestly don’t know what kind of “perfect AI” the tech world envisions. But in a capitalist system detached from human and ecological needs, I can’t help but wonder, how far will they go before we remember what truly matters? Can our governments even protect us?

Sources:

Chaterjee, R. (2025, September 19). Their teenage sons died by suicide. Now, they are sounding an alarm about AI chatbots. NPR. https://www.npr.org/sections/shots-health-news/2025/09/19/nx-s1-5545749/ai-chatbots-safety-openai-meta-characterai-teens-suicide

Nelson, H. (2024, February 7). Taylor Swift and the Dangers of Deepfake Pornography. National Sexual Violence Resource Center. https://www.nsvrc.org/blogs/feminism/taylor-swift-and-dangers-deepfake-pornography

The Australian Financial Review. (2025, October 5). Deloitte to refund government after admitting AI errors in $440K report. The Australian Financial Review. https://www.afr.com/companies/professional-services/deloitte-to-refund-government-after-admitting-ai-errors-in-440k-report-20251005-p5n05p

The Economist. (2017, May 6). The world’s most valuable resource is no longer oil, but data. The Economist. https://www.economist.com/leaders/2017/05/06/the-worlds-most-valuable-resource-is-no-longer-oil-but-data

Recke, M. (2024, August 2). AI as new media. NEXT Conference. https://nextconf.eu/2024/08/ai-as-new-media/

Tan, N., & McIlvaney, A. (2025, July 25). Bots, buzzers and AI-driven campaigning distort democracy. East Asia Forum. https://eastasiaforum.org/2025/07/25/bots-buzzers-and-ai-driven-campaigning-distort-democracy/

UNRIC. (2025, April 7). Artificial intelligence: How much energy does AI use? United Nations Regional Information Centre. https://unric.org/en/artificial-intelligence-how-much-energy-does-ai-use/

Here is what happens.

A young shepherd in Spain named Santiago has recurring dreams about a treasure hidden near the Egyptian pyramids. Encouraged by a king, he sets off on a journey to follow his true purpose in life, his Personal Legend. The king tells him:

When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

Santiago is convinced, sells his sheep, works for a crystal merchant, crosses the desert, and meets an Englishman studying alchemy. At one point, he asks an old woman to interpret his dream. Skeptical of her words, she replied:

The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them.

When Santiago meets the Alchemist, he teaches him that true wisdom comes from listening to his heart and recognizing the “Language of the World.” The Alchemist warns him:

There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.

When Santiago reaches the pyramids, he discovers the real treasure was back where his journey started, in Spain, under the tree where he first dreamed of it. As he dug the treasure, he hears a voice in the wind:

If I had told you, you wouldn’t have seen the Pyramids. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?

Reading it again years later, I finally understood its charm. My appreciation of this book deepened even more after watching an episode of After Skool. Unlike the cliché idea of searching far and wide only to find what was always in front of you, the story is about the growth that happens along the way. It was the character development, and the treasure was only a reward for his courage and perseverance. Watch the video below.

After Skool’s video explained it even better with the story of a young prince who lived with false pride. He rebranded every book to show himself as the author, demanded songs in his honor, and even got the girl he wanted. Yet there was no character development, no plot, no transformation. The video’s lesson was clear:

It’s not about the destination but the journey; not about the reward, but about becoming the person worthy of the reward.

That contrast helped me see Santiago’s journey in a new light. He succeeded not because the path was easy, but because he kept listening to the universe and leaving comfort behind for his purpose. His story was never about what he would gain, but about who he was meant to become.

True enough, everything we gain comes with a price. Wealth without personal growth often harms more than it helps. Media has even reported cases of lottery winners ending up worse off despite sudden riches. A 2010 study by Kahneman and Deaton supports this: happiness rises with income only up to about $75,000 a year (a figure higher today with inflation). Beyond that, more money does little to improve happiness.

The lesson of the book is clear, but beyond these, I am drawn to the idea of a Personal Legend or a true purpose. The Alchemist urges the boy to pursue (or in his words, to ‘learn’) it as if his life depended on it. To die chasing one’s Personal Legend, he suggests, is better than dying like millions who never discovered theirs.

This echoes a sermon I once heard: What are you willing to die for? To love, the priest said, is to be ready to die, to surrender, to risk, and to give yourself away. In the same way, to pursue your true purpose is to face death metaphorically, to leave comfort, to sacrifice, to shed parts of yourself in order to become who you must be. This makes so much sense for me.

On a larger scale, I see The Alchemist more than just a story of perseverance and purpose. It is a story of the soul’s awakening. The journey to search for a treasure or meaning or purpose and a call to listen to the heart, to trust in signs, and to surrender comfort for transformation. I believe Coelho is one enlightened author as his works touch on spirituality without being overbearing and invite readers to seek within through his storytelling.

Sources:

Berger, M. W. (2023, March 28). Does money buy happiness? Here’s what the research says. Knowledge at Wharton. Retrieved from https://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/article/does-money-buy-happiness-heres-what-the-research-says/

Rock Wealth. (n.d.). Why do so many lottery winners lose it all? Retrieved [date you accessed it], from https://www.rock-wealth.co.uk/why-do-so-many-lottery-winners-lose-it-all/