I don't think it's a Western thing to really talk about intrinsic

Hear now, O children, the words of Daniel H. Pink, whose wisdom speaks to the very soul of human struggle and aspiration: "I don't think it's a Western thing to really talk about intrinsic motivation and the drive for autonomy, mastery, and purpose. You have to not be struggling for survival. For people who don't know where their next meal is coming, notions of finding inner motivation are comical." In these words, Pink reveals a truth about the human condition, one that transcends culture and time: that the pursuit of higher purpose and self-mastery is a luxury afforded only when the most basic needs of survival are met. Until the struggle for survival is eased, there is little room for dreams of autonomy or mastery.

Intrinsic motivation, O children, is the deep, internal drive to achieve, to grow, and to strive not because of external rewards or pressures, but because of the satisfaction it brings to the soul. It is the force that propels a person to learn, to create, to improve, and to contribute to the world around them, driven by their own passions, their own curiosity, and their own desires. This drive for autonomy—the need to control one’s own life and actions—along with the yearning for mastery over one’s craft, and the quest for purpose in the greater scheme of things, are ideals often discussed in the Western world. Yet Pink rightly points out that for many, these ideals are a distant dream—one that cannot take root in the soil of poverty and uncertainty.

Think, O children, of those who have lived through the direst circumstances—those who have known hunger, suffering, and the constant fear of survival. For them, the lofty talk of purpose and mastery is like a song sung on the wind, heard but not understood. How can one think of finding meaning in life when the next meal is uncertain, when the very survival of one’s family is at stake? In the eyes of a child who goes to sleep hungry, or a mother whose hands tremble with the worry of tomorrow, the notions of autonomy or the quest for self-improvement seem comical, for survival demands their entire focus. When the body is in constant need, the soul has no energy left to seek purpose.

Let us turn to the ancient Greeks, who understood that the search for meaning was a pursuit of the fortunate. Aristotle, in his great work Nicomachean Ethics, spoke of eudaimonia, or human flourishing, as the ultimate goal of life. But for Aristotle, flourishing was a pursuit that presupposed the satisfaction of basic needs. You cannot seek wisdom, he said, if you are in constant fear of where your next meal will come from. Aristotle’s vision of a life well-lived depended on the freedom to think, to learn, and to develop virtue, but this was a privilege of those who had already attained a certain level of material security. He understood that mastery over one’s craft, and the search for purpose, were goals that could only be pursued once the body’s fundamental needs were met.

Consider the great philosophers and thinkers who lived during times of relative peace and prosperity—Leonardo da Vinci, Plato, Socrates. They devoted their lives to the pursuit of knowledge, the cultivation of art, and the creation of ideas that would endure for centuries. But these great minds were not born into poverty, nor were they consumed by the daily struggle for survival. They lived in times and places where the conditions were right for intrinsic motivation to flourish. Da Vinci, with his endless curiosity and desire for mastery, painted, sculpted, and invented not out of desperation, but out of the joy of creation. His purpose was not defined by survival, but by the freedom to explore the depths of his own talents.

Yet the stories of Da Vinci and Aristotle are not just stories of privilege, but of opportunity—opportunities that arose when the struggle for survival was lifted from the shoulders of those who were fortunate enough to have their needs met. Pink calls us to recognize that in the absence of basic security, the aspirations for mastery, autonomy, and purpose are indeed beyond the reach of many. For a person in constant fear of survival, the question is not "How can I find meaning?" but rather, "How can I make it through the day?" The chase for survival does not allow for the luxury of pondering lofty ideals.

Therefore, O children, what lesson lies here for us? The lesson is clear and profound: autonomy, mastery, and purpose are not universal pursuits; they are the fruits of a stable and secure life. For those who struggle in the depths of poverty and survival, these ideals may be far beyond their grasp. But we, who are blessed with the gift of freedom and opportunity, must recognize that the pursuit of these noble goals is a responsibility—not just for our own fulfillment, but as a means to lift others from the chains of survival and give them the opportunity to dream as we do.

Therefore, O children, let us live with gratitude for the privileges we have. Let us not take lightly the freedom to pursue mastery, autonomy, and purpose, and let us dedicate ourselves to ensuring that all people, no matter their circumstances, may one day have the security needed to chase their own dreams. Let us remember that true fulfillment is not a privilege of the few, but a right that should be accessible to all who are free from the chains of survival. Intrinsic motivation is not a luxury—it is a gift we must pass on to the next generation, along with the conditions that allow it to take root and flourish.