You can't gaze in the crystal ball and see the future. What the

Hear the words of Bob Kahn, the forger of pathways unseen, who declared: “You can’t gaze in the crystal ball and see the future. What the Internet is going to be in the future is what society makes it.” This is no idle saying, but a truth carved upon the stone of human destiny. For men and women have ever sought to pierce the veil of time, to look upon the hidden threads of fate, yet the tapestry is not woven by prophecy, but by the hands of those who live and act.

The crystal ball is a symbol as old as seers and oracles, a vessel through which mortals hoped to grasp certainty. But Kahn, who co-created the very architecture of the Internet, warns us: the destiny of this vast web of thought is not written in the stars, nor locked in secret scrolls. It is shaped by our choices, our morals, our greed, and our generosity. The Internet is not a beast with its own will, but a mirror reflecting the character of the age. It is clay in the potter’s hand, and that potter is society itself.

Consider the rise of the printing press in the days of Gutenberg. None could foresee in its infancy the revolutions it would birth: the spread of scripture, the shattering of empires of faith, the dawn of scientific discourse, the rise of nations bound not by blood alone, but by shared ideas. Had one sought to gaze into a crystal ball in 1450, who could have foretold Luther’s theses nailed to a door, or the encyclopedists of France, or the spreading pamphlets that stirred revolutions in America? No prophecy could contain the scope, for it was not fate that dictated the path, but the choices of countless souls wielding this tool of ink and press.

So too it is with the Internet. Born as a network for scholars and soldiers, it has become a global sea of voices. It holds both the noble and the vile, the healer and the destroyer. One may look upon it and see light: knowledge shared, distances bridged, friendships woven across continents. Another may see only shadow: lies spread like plague, greed turned into empire, and the cries of the lost drowned in the noise. Both visions are true, yet neither is inevitable. For it is the hand of society, and the spirit of its people, that writes the fate of this web.

Thus the teaching is this: the future is not seen—it is made. Just as the sculptor’s chisel reveals the form hidden in the stone, so too our choices reveal what the Internet, and indeed the world, shall become. The ancients spoke of virtue as the guide of men; without it, even the most wondrous invention becomes a weapon. With it, even chaos may be ordered into harmony. So, we must ask ourselves: do we shape this tool toward wisdom, or do we allow it to descend into folly?

Let us recall the story of the Athenian democracy, which birthed great philosophers, playwrights, and statesmen. Their system was fragile, yet it endured because citizens recognized that their society was not governed by fate, but by their daily choices: whether to speak with truth, to vote with conscience, to uphold justice. In their rise and fall, we learn that no system—be it city, press, or Internet—carries within itself the assurance of glory. The destiny of all such creations lies in the hearts of those who use them.

Therefore, O listener, take from this the lesson of responsibility. When you write upon the Internet, when you share, when you build, when you shape its culture, you are not merely passing time—you are helping to carve the destiny of civilization. Do not surrender to despair nor to carelessness. Instead, act as one who knows the weight of legacy. Sow truth where others sow deception, sow compassion where others sow hatred, and sow wisdom where others sow folly. For what society makes of this creation will echo not for a year or a decade, but for centuries, as the press still echoes today.

And so, let the call be clear: abandon the false hope of gazing into the crystal ball, and instead lift your gaze to your own hands. For the future is not foretold—it is forged. And the fire of its forging lies not in mystery, but in the choices you and I make with each passing day.