If you have time to get your pet rabbit its own Instagram

In the words of Jameela Jamil: “If you have time to get your pet rabbit its own Instagram account, you have time to at least tweet about something important.” Though spoken in jest, these words bear the weight of an ancient truth. They remind us that life is not measured only in laughter and leisure, but also in what we give back to the world. For in an age where time is poured into frivolities, Jamil urges us to remember that our voices carry power, and that to use them well is both a duty and an honor.

The origin of this thought arises from the imbalance of modern living. People dedicate hours to curating images, to feeding the endless cycle of entertainment, and to chasing approval through trivial pursuits. A pet rabbit’s Instagram account is not evil in itself—it is a symbol, a mirror of how easily our energy can be consumed by what is playful but not purposeful. Jamil’s words remind us that if such time exists for distraction, then there is also time for action, for speaking on matters that lift others, challenge injustice, and inspire change.

The ancients knew this principle well. In the marketplaces of Athens, men would gather not only to trade goods but to speak of philosophy, justice, and the laws of the city. Socrates himself, who might have wasted his days in idle chatter, instead chose to question the hearts and minds of all who would listen. He believed it was better to disturb with truth than to soothe with nonsense. So too does Jamil echo this spirit: if one has the means to speak, let that speech not always be idle, but sometimes purposeful.

History, too, offers us the image of those who wasted not their voices. Consider Frederick Douglass, who rose from slavery to become a herald of freedom. His words, sharpened by suffering and vision, shook the conscience of nations. How small would his life have been had he chosen silence or trifling instead? Or Malala Yousafzai, who, though young, chose to use her platform not to share trivialities but to defend the education of girls. These are examples of what Jamil calls us toward—not silence, not distraction, but speech that shapes the future.

The meaning, then, is clear: we are all stewards of our attention and our voices. It is not wrong to indulge in play, to delight in the small joys of life, even in a rabbit’s photograph. But it is wrong to live only for these things, neglecting the greater call to contribute meaning, justice, or compassion. For words, whether in the town square or on the digital screen, are seeds, and each one we plant either withers or grows into fruit for generations to come.

The lesson for us is profound yet simple: balance your voice. Speak for joy, yes, but also for justice. Share laughter, but also share truth. If you have time to delight in the trivial, you also have time to uplift the essential. Let your speech be seasoned not only with humor but with courage, not only with wit but with wisdom. In this way, your life becomes not a series of empty echoes, but a chorus of meaning.

In practice, take a moment each day to consider what you broadcast. Ask yourself: Does this only entertain, or does it also enlighten? Do not be silent in the face of wrong, for your silence becomes consent. Do not imagine your words are too small, for every mighty river begins with a drop. Remember Jamil’s counsel: if you have time for the trivial, you have time for the transformative. Use both, but do not forget the latter.

Thus, Jameela Jamil’s playful challenge becomes a timeless teaching: do not squander your voice. For the world is shaped not only by the deeds of the strong but by the words of the many. Let your speech carry joy, but also let it carry justice, so that when history remembers us, it will say not only that we lived, but that we spoke, and in speaking, we made the world more whole.