Would we simulate adversity?

Lately, I've found myself immersed in a stream of podcasts, listening to conversations where investors and entrepreneurs share their thoughts on the allure of adversity. It's a common refrain now, a badge of honor worn by those who have "been through it." These individuals, molded by failure and hardship, are seemingly more worthy of capital, more deserving of mentorship, more ready for the spotlight. At first, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride in this. In many ways, this felt like a nod to the challenges I'd faced growing up. Raised by a single parent in a small, isolated town with no grocery store, I moved through 13 schools before I was 13, due to a mix of health issues and financial strain. Life wasn't easy, but it was what it was, adversity wasn't something to seek; it was simply part of the everyday. But now, in a world obsessed with stories of overcoming, it's become a commodity of sorts, a currency that some seem eager to acquire.

The more I reflect on this, the more I wonder: as we continue down the path of advancing technology and solve some of our most pressing human problems, will adversity become scarce? If we manage to crack the code on things like medical breakthroughs, poverty reduction, and global stability, where will adversity come from? If the challenges of our past are neutralized by innovation, will there be a need to manufacture hardship? Will we someday look to simulate adversity as we simulate other experiences?

Imagine a world where technology has removed many of the barriers that once held people back. Diseases are cured, resources are abundant, and lives are longer, more stable. In such a world, would parents or society at large begin to design challenges for their children, programming adversity into their lives as a tool for character building? Who would be the first to tell an AI, "Give my child hardship, make them empathetic, humble, resilient"? Would empathy even be a necessary trait in a world where everything seems to function smoothly for everyone? What role does struggle play in a life without scarcity?

Perhaps, we've already dabbled in these questions through the art we consume. Films and stories take us through emotional arcs of struggle and resolution, but merely watching tragedy unfold on screen doesn't truly build character. It's a vicarious experience, one where the consequences are not real, the stakes not personal. Would simulated adversity fall into the same trap of becoming just another form of entertainment rather than a genuine catalyst for growth?

The irony isn't lost on me that we're already seeing glimpses of this future. People voluntarily subject themselves to extreme physical challenges, participate in survival scenarios, or engage in manufactured hardships, all in the name of personal growth. But these are chosen difficulties, carefully controlled experiences with clear exit points. They lack the raw, unpredictable nature of true adversity that shapes character in ways we can't engineer.

As we stand at this intersection of technological progress and human development, these questions become more than philosophical musings. They're previews of decisions we might face sooner than we think. In our quest to create a better world, are we inadvertently designing out the very experiences that make us resilient, empathetic, and human? And if we are, should we be thinking about how to preserve or recreate these character- building moments in an age of abundance?

I don't have answers to these questions, but I believe they're worth contemplating as we shape the future. The commodification of adversity today might be a precursor to its simulation tomorrow. As we continue to advance technologically, perhaps the real challenge won't be overcoming adversity, but rather understanding how to maintain our humanity in its absence.