May 9, 2025. The People.

Over the past few weeks of intensely researching observable aspects of human behavior, I've reached a stark realization about people. Most humans operate with themselves at the center of their universe, not out of malice but from natural inclination. Their concerns, actions, and decisions primarily revolve around their immediate interests and the small circle of people directly connected to them. This isn't merely cynicism; it's a practical observation with profound implications for how I approach building things in the world.

The insight clarifies so much about the challenges I encountered with Seraphim. When I started that venture from my bedroom with that damn chair, I envisioned creating systems for global resilience. I believed I could build frameworks that would help humanity withstand existential threats, from conflicts to resource shortages to natural disasters. The mission felt noble, necessary, and aligned with what I saw as humanity's collective needs. I convinced myself that by working hard enough, by understanding systems deeply enough, I could contribute significantly to civilization-level protection.

What I now understand more clearly is the fundamental mismatch between this mission and my position within larger human systems. People don't generally wake up thinking about existential risks or civilization resilience. They think about their jobs, families, immediate problems, and personal aspirations. They delegate broader societal concerns to institutions specifically designed to handle them. This delegation isn't laziness or shortsightedness; it's the fundamental structure that allows complex societies to function at all.

Governments exist precisely to handle collective concerns that individuals cannot reasonably address alone. They have the mandate, resources, and coordination mechanisms to implement civilization-scale protections. When people vote, pay taxes, and participate in civic processes, they're essentially saying: "Handle the big stuff so I can focus on my life." This arrangement isn't a flaw in humanity but its operating system. Understanding this doesn't make me feel superior or disappointed; it makes me more effective by aligning my efforts with reality.

The research helped me recognize something crucial about my previous approach. I was trying to assume responsibilities that properly belong to institutions while lacking the structural position and resources those institutions possess. This created inevitable friction. No matter how brilliant MIKE-AI might have become, no matter how innovative our resilience frameworks, we were attempting to solve institutional-scale problems with individual-scale resources. The wall I hit wasn't just about computational limitations but about fundamental system design.

This realization doesn't diminish my concerns for humanity's future. I still care deeply about the challenges we collectively face. What changes is my understanding of how I can most effectively contribute given my actual position within these larger systems. Instead of trying to replace institutional functions, I can create specific value in domains where individual innovators have comparative advantages. This isn't retreating from larger concerns but approaching them more realistically.

Value creation now becomes my clear focus. Converting ideas into digital realities and eventually physical instantiations. Building tools, technologies, and systems that solve defined problems for defined users. This narrower scope doesn't reduce impact but concentrates it where it can actually materialize. I'm not abandoning the mission of contributing to human flourishing but recognizing that my particular contribution works best through focused innovation rather than attempted system replacement.

Consider how true innovation actually spreads through society. Technologies that create clear value for specific users gain adoption that eventually scales to broader impact. This approach aligns with how change actually happens rather than how we might wish it would happen. By creating things people actually want and use, I can potentially affect more lives than by trying to impose protective systems from outside existing institutional structures.

The insight also helps explain why previous ventures hit certain barriers. When building Abdi & Brothers Company and later Seraphim, I approached problems with ambition but insufficient understanding of system realities. I conflated what should be done with what I personally should do. I failed to distinguish between collective needs and individual capacity. Those ventures weren't failures but necessary learning experiences that brought me to this clearer understanding of how innovation actually functions within complex human systems.

This shift doesn't represent a change in my fundamental values or character. I haven't become cynical or given up on larger concerns. I've simply developed a more nuanced understanding of how different scales of human organization handle different types of problems. My commitment to contributing something meaningful remains unchanged. What changes is the implementation pathway that actually has a chance of succeeding given system realities.

The research into observable human aspects continues, but with more practical applications in mind. Instead of trying to solve humanity's resilience challenges directly, I'm looking at how specific technological innovations might create value that indirectly contributes to those larger goals. This approach acknowledges both human nature as it actually exists and my position within broader systems as they actually function.

For those following along, this isn't abandoning the journey but refining it. The physics research continues. The work with MIKE continues. The drive to build something meaningful continues. What changes is the operating framework, the mental model that guides implementation decisions. By seeing more clearly how systems actually work, I can work more effectively within them rather than fighting against their fundamental nature.

I now understand that value creation isn't a lesser goal than protection or resilience. It's simply a different approach to contributing meaningfully to human progress. The most successful innovators don't try to replace institutional functions but create specific value in domains where individual innovation works best. They contribute to larger goals through focused excellence rather than attempted system replacement.

What does this mean practically? It means building things people actually want and need rather than what I think they should want or need. It means creating technologies that solve specific problems for specific users rather than trying to impose global protection frameworks from outside existing institutions. It means accepting that my contribution comes through focused innovation rather than attempted system replacement.

The past few weeks have clarified that when people look at new technologies, they primarily ask "How does this benefit me?" not "How does this protect civilization?" This isn't selfishness but the natural filter through which humans process innovation. By working with this reality rather than against it, I can potentially create more meaningful impact than my previous approach would have permitted.

So the path forward becomes clearer. From mind to bits to atoms. From concepts to code to physical instantiation. Creating specific value rather than attempting to shoulder institutional responsibilities. This doesn't mean giving up on larger concerns but approaching them through pathways that align with system realities rather than fighting against them.

Building continues. Research continues. Learning continues. The mission evolves but the journey persists. The fundamental realization about people doesn't disappoint me but liberates me to work more effectively within reality as it actually exists rather than as I might wish it to be. Sometimes seeing what you cannot do reveals more precisely what you can.