If we try to look not at events themselves, but at their root, a feeling emerges that the world lives in constant tension. Conflicts, crises, pandemics, political deals — all of this is discussed endlessly. Yet mostly what is discussed are the consequences. Rarely do we examine the very structure of the system that makes those consequences possible.
Russia speaks of spheres of interest and security. Ukraine has become a field of competing strategies and ambitions. The West speaks of alliances and guarantees. Politicians operate through treaties and sanctions. What is strange is not only that conflict happened. What is strange is that for decades the conditions accumulated that made it almost inevitable.
The world is increasingly governed by deals. This is not new. Economics has long become the language of politics. But if everything is reduced to negotiations of advantage, a deeper question arises: where, in this construction, is the human being?
Scandals such as the Epstein case reveal another facet of the system — public outrage combined with an almost complete lack of transparency in outcomes. Society hears accusations but rarely sees completed justice. This undermines trust not only in individuals, but in the architecture of power itself.
Europe experiences its internal tension. The United States faces its own. Since 2001, the world has lived in a state of sustained anxiety: terrorism, financial crises, pandemics, geopolitics. Fear has become a stable background of life.
When fear becomes the background, the human being gradually ceases to be the center. The person becomes a resource — electoral, economic, informational. Attention is monetized. Anxiety is utilized. Energy is directed into reaction rather than creation.
One may blame specific leaders. One may argue over strategies. But the deeper question remains: why does the system reward governance through fear instead of governance through human value?
Even the debate around artificial intelligence is often framed in anxiety — fear of losing control, jobs, dominance. Yet fear is not analysis. It is a state. And a society that lives in fear cannot think strategically.
Perhaps the central question is not who is right and who is wrong. It is why the structure of social organization itself allows crises to repeat.
Until human value becomes measurable and recognized, politics will revolve around influence and resources. In such a model, the human being remains secondary.
Change will not come merely through changing faces. It will come through revising principles. Through returning to a simple idea: security, economics, and technology must serve the human being — not the other way around.
And then, perhaps, fear will cease to be an instrument.
Perhaps fear is neither a creature nor a conspiracy.
It emerges where there is no clear foundation —
where a person does not feel their value and cannot see their place within the larger structure of the world.
Ask any mother how she sees her child’s life ten years from now.
The answer will not be about politics or geopolitics.
It will be about safety, dignity, and the possibility of living without constant anxiety.
That may be the true compass.
Not strategies, not spheres of influence, not deals —
but the ability of a system to create a space where a person does not have to live in survival mode.
As long as fear remains the foundation of governance, the world will remain unstable.
When human value becomes the foundation, balance will begin to restore itself.