Lost in Acceleration: An Israeli Story
The Portuguese poet Camões wrote that the “world is made up of change.” Two thousand years before him, the Greek philosopher Heraclitus narrowed it down when he said, “The only constant in life is change.”
Most change is slight, almost unperceivable, but some of it is evident to the naked eye. Technological change is accelerating at an exponential rate, a phenomenon often referred to as The Great Acceleration, meaning the rate of acceleration itself is accelerating. From AI adoption doubling year over year to computing power increasing nearly one trillion times since the 1950s, we are living through the fastest pace of innovation in human history.
Most people today live in transtechnological societies, where both the technological and social foundations of their existence change throughout their lifetimes, making them, at one point or another, outdated. Outdated means not only not up to date, but also from another date. In our society, other dates and previous experiences are irrelevant. Yet few stop to consider what is being lost in the process, what remains of our humanity, and what these transformations mean for our lives.
In our world, those other times, past experiences, and perspectives are often dismissed as irrelevant. But perhaps they deserve a second glance, a deeper reflection, in this whirlwind of change.
From Macro to Micro
Since the onset of COVID-19 in early 2020, the world has undergone a seismic shift across nearly every aspect of life. Global e-commerce sales surged from $3.35 trillion in 2019 to over $5.7 trillion by 2022, accelerating a decade of digital transformation in just two years. Remote work, once a rarity, became the norm for over 60% of employees in developed economies during the height of the pandemic, and even in 2024, nearly 30% of the global workforce remains remote or hybrid. Meanwhile, worldwide air travel, which plummeted by 60% in 2020, has struggled to return to pre-pandemic levels, permanently altering how we connect across borders. From supply chains to healthcare systems to social interaction, the world has not just changed; it’s been redefined.
We have also changed in profound ways. Our priorities shifted. 74% of people now say they value work-life balance more than before the pandemic, and over half have reconsidered their career paths entirely. Mental health, once a peripheral concern, has become a central conversation, with global anxiety and depression rates increasing by nearly 25%, prompting millions to seek support, redefine success, and build more resilient lives.
The state of Israel and especially the lifestyle of its people have changed fundamentally since the beginning of COVID, but few notice this. Factoring in the freedom people had before COVID, changes in the tech sector, and two years of war, Israel looks more and more like 1919.
Tel Aviv used to be drenched with young people eating late and a work hard, play hard attitude. The country was always ridiculously expensive, but before COVID, there were cool, vibrant restaurants and bars where you could have a good time. Now, most have closed, and even the historical Kasbah in Florentin did not survive. Yom Haatzmaut (Independence Day), the date when thousands of Israelis flood the streets, this year, was strange to say the least. The World is changing, but Israel has changed even more. The worst thing about a country it is not when it loses a war for the hearts of the so-called “international community“, but when it loses its spirit. I am living in a different country than the one I made Aliyah which in eight years is normal, but I do not think I am living in a better one.
Then again, maybe it is not the country that has changed so much — maybe it is me, and I am just projecting my own transformation onto everything around me. Maybe the things that once excited me no longer do, and what once felt vibrant now feels hollow not because Tel Aviv lost its spark, but because something inside me dimmed. It is easier to blame the city, the country, the times, but the truth is, change begins within, quietly, until one day you wake up and realize it is not the streets that changed, but the eyes you are seeing them with. Change like beauty is in the eye of the beholder.