As the world has changed through globalisation and technology

The statesman Chuka Umunna, reflecting on the tides of our age, once declared: “As the world has changed through globalisation and technology, it has left many feeling left behind.” These words strike like a bell across the valleys of time, for they reveal not only the glory of progress but also its shadow. Globalisation and technology have bound the earth into a single web, carrying voices, goods, and ideas across oceans with swiftness once unimaginable. Yet as these waves of change surge forward, many stand stranded on the shore, bewildered, fearful, and forgotten.

Globalisation promises unity, but it also threatens identity. Markets open, cultures mix, and opportunities grow, yet the farmer whose craft is swept aside by cheaper imports, or the worker whose labor is replaced by machines, often feels abandoned in the march of progress. Technology dazzles with its brilliance, yet it moves so swiftly that those without access or education feel not uplifted but discarded. Umunna’s words are not a condemnation of change, but a reminder that every age of transformation leaves behind those who cannot keep pace. The wisdom lies in remembering them, lest society fracture.

History has seen this pattern before. In the Industrial Revolution, factories rose, steam engines thundered, and wealth multiplied. Yet the hand-weavers of England, once respected craftsmen, saw their livelihoods destroyed by mechanized looms. Many joined the Luddite movement, smashing machines in desperation. They were not enemies of progress, but victims of being left behind. In time, reforms brought education, labor rights, and protections, softening the blow. The story teaches that every leap forward must be matched with compassion for those who stumble in its wake.

The same story echoes in our modern world. As technology reshapes economies, whole professions vanish: typists, switchboard operators, factory hands displaced by robots, clerks replaced by algorithms. To the young and educated, these changes bring opportunity. To the older, the rural, the untrained, they bring fear. Umunna’s insight is thus not only political but deeply human: the world must ensure that change uplifts the many, not the few, and that progress is measured not only by speed but by inclusiveness.

Yet there is also a heroic side to this truth. For those who adapt, the new world brings vast horizons. Consider the rise of India’s call centers and technology hubs. Where once poverty ruled, globalization and technology created pathways to prosperity. But this triumph came because nations invested in education, infrastructure, and opportunity, ensuring that their people were not left behind but carried forward. This shows that with vision, the burdens of progress can be transformed into blessings.

The lesson, then, is clear: as the world races forward, we must practice both innovation and compassion. Let governments provide training for displaced workers. Let communities offer inclusion to those lost in transition. Let individuals cultivate lifelong learning, so that change does not terrify but strengthens. Above all, let us remember that progress without humanity is hollow, but progress with mercy becomes enduring.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, heed the wisdom of Chuka Umunna. Do not blind yourselves to the glory of globalisation and technology, but do not ignore those whom it leaves in its wake. Reach back even as you move forward. Build bridges for the weak, create pathways for the forgotten, and ensure that the future is not a chariot that carries only a few, but a great caravan in which all have a place. For only then will progress be not a cause of despair, but a song of triumph shared by all humanity.