
Students participating in class (Courtesy of Yan Krukau/Pexels)
This piece is from the CU Independent’s opinion section. Any opinions or views do not represent the CU Independent.
It all started when I enrolled in a Medieval, Renaissance, and Literature class. I entered with the preconceived notion that I would be analyzing endless amounts of Shakespeare. Though it pains me to admit it, I was very wrong. We sat in a circle, and I could immediately tell that several people were extremely uncomfortable with the forced ping-pong match of eye contact. My professor quickly announced that all of our work, including the midterm and final, would be completed on paper in class. By the next class, a few familiar faces were already missing.
On one of the first days, we were asked why the presence of historical literature and the importance of analyzing classical works seem to be diminishing in an increasingly modern world. Immediately, something clicked for me, and I realized how layered this question truly was. Throughout the semester, the works we studied revealed a common underlying issue that is often overlooked: the modern generation is mistaking modernization for an excuse to disregard the importance of the past, and society’s push toward modernization has become an attempt to create a formula that prioritizes statistical perfection.
The first layer of this issue requires an analysis of how modern education frames learning. It is no secret that modern education is losing sight of its purpose. The point of college is to help students become independent human beings who can function by choice and choose to make decisions that reflect their personal moral values rather than allowing someone else to choose for them. However, this idea feels foreign when education prior to college allows little to no room for self-reflection or self-discovery. Education should help students develop their own beliefs, not inherit algorithms or trends.
Yet the conveyor belt of modern education forces students down a single path toward a single goal: optimized productivity. We have reached a point where machine learning overshadows human learning, and instead of learning how to think, we are taught how to use AI to think for us. For the sake of creativity and diversity, the education system must reconsider its true purpose rather than viewing students as numbers on a productivity line. Productivity should never be prioritized over wisdom. This shift in education mirrors a broader cultural trend, the belief that the present moment matters more than anything that came before it.
Rather than preserving the validity of the past by teaching it to the present, we have increasingly chosen to ignore it altogether. Education is slowly removing historical literature from curricula, sending the message that it is less important. This approach is self-destructive, as the only way to prevent the past from repeating itself is by remembering it and honoring the generations that came before us. There are horrific events in our history, but discomfort is not a reason for silence. In fact, that discomfort makes discussion even more imperative.
Modern humans live with constant awareness, a constant urge to post, and an ingrained surveillance of one another. We have become more judgmental, and our sense of right and wrong has shifted toward appearances rather than substance. Aesthetically, the past is messy, but so is the human experience, no matter how hard we try to suppress our humanity. We are complex beings with complex emotions. By straining to maintain a perfect present, we leave no room for complexity or history. When we refuse to acknowledge the past, it loses its purpose, and so do we.
In prioritizing a seamless present, we erase what made that present possible. This is where cancel culture enters the conversation. By attempting to erase complexity in favor of comfort, we have developed a troubling habit: the urge to cancel anything inconvenient or uncomfortable.
Humans have adopted a god-like authority over what matters, believing we have the right to control every facet of life. This erasure is paired with the dangerous assumption that we can decide which parts of history are valid. That mentality has evolved into the modern impulse to erase, edit or cancel aspects of life we no longer like. But disliking something, especially the past, is not a reason to disregard it. Why should our voice determine someone else’s? Shouldn’t we prioritize differing opinions and identities? We are built on the foundation of the past, so why should we be ashamed of it?
This desire for control extends beyond history and into how we evaluate ourselves and others, often through numbers rather than meaning. Modern society treats perfection as quantifiable, even though it is deeply subjective. This illusion flattens the complexity of human value. Human beings are not measurable. When we reduce ourselves to numbers, we undermine the richness of the human experience. Quantification pushes us toward sameness, a pattern dystopian stories repeatedly warn will destroy society. Difference is essential for survival, growth and creativity. Sameness may feel safer, but it leads to emotional shallowness and inauthenticity.
This pressure for perfection encourages people to prioritize how they are perceived over who they actually are. Social media amplifies this desire to be liked and quietly convinces us to sacrifice authenticity for approval. We curate personas, edit out flaws and cling to formulas we believe guarantee success, only to realize that meaning cannot be manufactured. What you don’t change, you choose. Yet many avoid change, even when it could improve their lives, for the sake of external validation and fleeting approval.
Technology, especially AI, deepens this issue by convincing us that we already have all the answers. This false sense of superiority persuades us that we no longer need history, even though history provides the patterns that help us understand our present and anticipate our future. Humans were not the beginning of the world, yet we behave as though everything revolves around us. We treat the past as inferior instead of recognizing it as the foundation of everything we know.
History shapes identity through family, culture, tradition and moral values. While social media prioritizes followers over values, history offers models of resilience, courage and moral clarity. There was a time when women were denied education. The fact that I can write these ideas today exists because voices in the past demanded the right to learn and be heard. The past continues to shape us in ways we cannot ignore.
Living in the present does not mean my experience exists independently of those who came before me. Human beings are complex, diverse and inherently different. When we subscribe to sameness, we limit diversity, something that has led to the downfall of countless species. Progress may appear limitless, but if we continue to reject the past, we will eventually hit a wall. When that happens, will we finally recognize the value of history or remain trapped in a curated illusion of perfection?
Ultimately, acknowledging the past is essential if we want true progress rather than its imitation. In a world obsessed with statistical perfection, we must preserve history and equally prioritize passion and purpose, even when they make us imperfect.
Contact CU Independent Staff Writer Sophia Neckin at sophia.neckin@colorado.edu.
