I am only a child. Yet I know that if all the money spent on war

In the vast sweep of human history, where conflict and strife have shaped the rise and fall of empires, there arises a voice so pure, so untainted by the corruption of power, that it pierces through the darkness with a truth we dare not ignore. The words of Severn Cullis-Suzuki, spoken in her youth, are those of a child, yet they echo with the profound wisdom of ancient philosophers who decried the folly of war and the neglect of the poor. “I am only a child. Yet I know that if all the money spent on war was spent on ending poverty and finding environmental answers, what a wonderful place this would be.” These words ring with the urgency of innocence, and the wisdom that often comes from those who have not yet been tainted by the machinations of the world.

To understand the full weight of Cullis-Suzuki’s plea, we must look to the ancient world, where the cost of war was not only measured in the lives of soldiers but in the sacrifice of the common people. The ancient Greek philosopher Plato spoke of the ideal society, one where rulers were guided by wisdom and virtue, not by the thirst for power or the plundering of resources. He imagined a world where the wealth of the nation was not spent on conquest and glory, but on the welfare of its people, on education, and on the building of a more just and balanced society. In his mind, a wise society would not engage in endless conflict but would turn its energies to the betterment of all, finding solutions for hunger, health, and the preservation of the earth itself. Cullis-Suzuki echoes this ancient wisdom, showing us that the pursuit of peace and progress is the true measure of a civilization.

Imagine, if you will, the Roman Empire, which stretched its influence across vast territories through the force of arms. At its height, the Romans spent unimaginable resources on the construction of armies, the building of fortresses, and the perpetuation of endless wars of expansion. Yet, despite all this power, the Roman Empire faltered under the weight of internal decay. The corruption that accompanied the expansion of military might, coupled with the neglect of the poor and the environment, led to the eventual collapse of the empire. Had the Romans spent their wealth not on the endless expansion of their borders but on advancing science, improving the lives of their people, and protecting the land they ruled, perhaps their empire would have endured. Cullis-Suzuki’s words remind us that the future of any society lies not in the victories won through violence, but in the peace created through sustainable prosperity and justice.

Her statement also calls to mind the tragic history of World War I, a conflict that consumed the lives of millions and drained the resources of entire nations. The war was driven by nationalism, by the thirst for power, and by the desire to control resources—none of which could bring lasting peace or security. In the aftermath of the war, entire generations were left in despair, the wounds of war deepened by the poverty and economic hardship that followed. Imagine, then, if the immense sums spent on military campaigns, on weapons and machinery of destruction, had instead been spent on the rebuilding of nations, on the relief of those left destitute by the war. Severn Cullis-Suzuki speaks not just to the waste of war, but to the possibilities that could emerge if humanity shifted its focus to building a better world—one that invests in the well-being of its people and the protection of its environment.

The heart of Cullis-Suzuki’s message is a simple but profound truth: resources spent on war could instead be used to solve the crises of hunger, poverty, and environmental destruction that plague our world. The ancient texts tell us that a wise leader knows when to take up arms and when to lay them down. Sun Tzu, in his Art of War, reminds us that the greatest victory is one that does not require battle at all. In times of peace, it is the resources of a nation that should be spent on fostering the welfare of the people, on cultivating the earth, and on ensuring that all have enough to eat, to learn, and to thrive. Had the great leaders of history known the true cost of war—not just in lives lost, but in the opportunity to build a better world—they might have sought different paths.

Severn Cullis-Suzuki’s words, though spoken in the voice of a child, are the very words that the wise of ancient times would have endorsed. Peace is not the absence of war but the presence of justice, sustainability, and human dignity. It is the acknowledgment that the true measure of a civilization lies not in the wealth of its conquerors but in the well-being of all its people. As we move forward, we must remember that the path to a Golden Age is not paved with the rubble of war but with the foundations of compassion, progress, and respect for our world and each other.

Let us then take Cullis-Suzuki’s message to heart and carry it forward into our own lives. Let us demand that the resources of our nations be used not for war, but for the preservation of the earth, for the eradication of poverty, and for the promotion of a future where all people can live in peace and prosperity. In every action we take, let us remember that the true legacy of a nation is not measured by the battles it wins but by the lives it saves, the world it sustains, and the peace it nurtures. This is the dream of a better tomorrow—a dream we must work toward, for the sake of our children and the generations yet to come.