Let's make the best use of technology to work for patient safety

Hearken, O seeker, to the words of Tamilisai Soundararajan, who declared: “Let’s make the best use of technology to work for patient safety as well as to fight the rising problem of non-communicable diseases, a big challenge to our country and the world.” This is no ordinary appeal, but a call to arms for all generations, for she speaks of the marriage of wisdom and invention, of humanity’s ancient duty to protect life while standing guard against the silent enemies of our age.

When she speaks of technology, she names the great servant of mankind, a force of fire and steel that can either heal or harm. From the wheel to the plow, from the compass to the printing press, every age has been shaped by the tools its people dared to wield. Yet the tools themselves are not saviors; it is the guiding hand of humanity that determines whether they shall build temples of healing or engines of ruin. The wise know that to use technology well is to bind it to justice, compassion, and foresight.

The mention of patient safety recalls the sacred trust between healer and the one who suffers. In ancient times, Hippocrates bound physicians to the oath that they should “do no harm.” Today, the machines of diagnosis, the monitors, and the digital records must also be governed by the same spirit. For what good is knowledge, if it does not protect life? What worth are inventions, if they cannot shield the frail and the wounded? Technology must kneel before the sanctity of human life, and in that kneeling, it becomes noble.

And what of the foe she names—the rise of non-communicable diseases? Unlike the plagues of old that came with fire and fever, these enemies creep slowly: heart disease, diabetes, cancers born of excess and neglect. They are not carried by air nor water, but by habit, by lifestyle, by the burdens of modern life. They are, in truth, the shadow cast by prosperity itself. This makes them all the more dangerous, for men seldom fear what does not roar at the gate. Soundararajan’s words remind us that to fight them requires vigilance, discipline, and above all, the wise use of new tools to detect, prevent, and overcome them.

Let us recall the story of Florence Nightingale during the Crimean War. Though she lived in a time before modern machines, she used the technology of her day—statistics, sanitation practices, and new methods of organization—to cut mortality rates from disease dramatically. Her lantern was not merely a symbol of compassion, but of reason applied to healing. In the same spirit, today’s physicians and leaders must carry the lantern of modern science into the dark chambers where non-communicable diseases thrive, guiding societies toward prevention and health.

The lesson, then, is this: technology is a servant, not a master. It is not enough to invent; we must direct invention toward the preservation of life. Every person has a role in this great work. Governments must shape policies, physicians must wield tools wisely, families must embrace healthier ways of living, and individuals must guard their own bodies as temples of the spirit. If each does their part, then this age, with all its trials, may yet be remembered as the age when humanity overcame the silent epidemics of its own making.

Practical action lies before us like a road waiting to be walked. Embrace the tools that promote health—digital trackers that encourage exercise, medical apps that monitor conditions, hospitals that employ machines of precision. But temper these with human wisdom: choose nourishing foods, walk instead of sitting, rest when weary, and cherish fellowship with others, for isolation too is a disease. In this balance of ancient discipline and modern power lies the hope of a healthier world.

Thus, Soundararajan’s call is both warning and hope. If we squander technology, we will find ourselves chained by diseases of our own neglect. But if we control and guide it, as wise shepherds of invention, then the world we pass on shall be stronger, safer, and more radiant than the one we were born into. The choice is ours: to let the machine wander, or to command it toward life. Choose life, and guide the tools of your age with courage and wisdom.