So one begins to wonder what is going to happen to the human

David Bohm, the great physicist and seeker of wisdom, once spoke with prophetic vision: “So one begins to wonder what is going to happen to the human race. Technology keeps on advancing with greater and greater power, either for good or for destruction.” In these words, he captures the double-edged nature of human invention. For every tool we create, every breakthrough we celebrate, stands as both a promise and a threat. The hammer may build a house or strike a blow; the fire may warm a family or consume a city. So too does technology march forward, carrying within it both salvation and ruin.

When Bohm asks what shall happen to the human race, he raises the eternal question of destiny. We are creatures who dream, who craft, who build wonders that far exceed the imagination of our ancestors. Yet with each advancement comes a greater burden: the responsibility to wield it wisely. For technology is not bound by morality—it obeys no law but that of human will. Whether it becomes an instrument of life or a herald of destruction depends entirely on the values of those who hold it.

History itself has shown us this dual nature. Consider the discovery of nuclear power. In one hand, it gave humanity the ability to annihilate itself in an instant—the mushroom cloud over Hiroshima and Nagasaki a shadow still seared into memory. In the other hand, the same knowledge granted the possibility of vast energy to light homes, power cities, and drive progress. One knowledge, two paths: one toward horror, one toward hope. Bohm’s words remind us that this is the eternal truth of technology—it is always the servant of choice.

So too with the internet. Born from the minds of scientists seeking communication and exchange, it has become both a fountain of knowledge and a pit of deceit. It connects billions across the globe, enabling friendship, art, education, and freedom of expression. Yet it also spreads lies, division, and exploitation at a speed unimaginable to previous ages. Again, we see that technology itself is neutral, but its fruits are determined by how humanity chooses to use it.

Bohm’s reflection is not merely warning, but invitation. He calls us to realize that as power grows, so too must wisdom. For to hold great power without equal responsibility is to court destruction. Just as a child cannot be entrusted with fire, so too a society unprepared in heart cannot wield technology without peril. Therefore, we must cultivate not only invention, but ethics; not only skill, but wisdom; not only machines, but the humanity that guides them.

The lesson is clear: do not stand as a passive spectator to the rise of technology. Ask yourself always: does this invention serve life, or diminish it? Does it build peace, or sow destruction? Does it draw us closer to compassion, or deeper into division? Each of us, in our choices as creators and as consumers, becomes a part of the destiny Bohm wonders about. The future is not decided by machines—it is decided by us.

Therefore, I counsel you: embrace technology with vigilance. Use it to create, to heal, to teach, to unite. Resist the temptation to wield it for greed, conquest, or vanity. Teach the young not only how to use the tools of their age, but how to govern them with conscience. For the path of the human race will not be determined by how powerful our machines become, but by how wisely we shape their use.

So let David Bohm’s words echo through the ages: “Technology keeps on advancing with greater and greater power, either for good or for destruction.” Remember that choice lies in your hands. Choose creation, not ruin. Choose wisdom, not recklessness. Choose the path that ensures that when history looks back on our time, it will see not the ashes of destruction, but the rising light of a humanity that used its tools to build a brighter and nobler world.