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The Privilege of Being Able to Respond to Reality

Perhaps one of the most overlooked privileges is not wealth itself, but having enough margin in your life to respond to reality. Over the last few years, we have become fluent in the language of privilege, speaking easily about financial privilege, pretty privilege, racial privilege, passport privilege, educational privilege and social privilege, and in doing so we have become increasingly aware that people do not all start from the same place and that some doors open more easily for some than for others. Yet there is one form of privilege that seems to receive far less attention, and that is the privilege of being able to do something with the information you have, not simply knowing, but acting, because the truth is that information alone changes very little. We like to imagine that if people only knew better, they would do better, and entire industries are built around this assumption, from self-help books and documentaries to podcasts, awareness campaigns, public health initiative...

The Privilege of Being Able to Respond to Reality

Perhaps one of the most overlooked privileges is not wealth itself, but having enough margin in your life to respond to reality. Over the last few years, we have become fluent in the language of privilege, speaking easily about financial privilege, pretty privilege, racial privilege, passport privilege, educational privilege and social privilege, and in doing so we have become increasingly aware that people do not all start from the same place and that some doors open more easily for some than for others. Yet there is one form of privilege that seems to receive far less attention, and that is the privilege of being able to do something with the information you have, not simply knowing, but acting, because the truth is that information alone changes very little. We like to imagine that if people only knew better, they would do better, and entire industries are built around this assumption, from self-help books and documentaries to podcasts, awareness campaigns, public health initiatives and educational programs, all operating on the belief that knowledge leads to action. Sometimes it does, but often it does not, not because people are stubborn or foolish, but because action has a cost.

There is a question people love to ask: “If today were your last day on earth, what would you do?” The answers are usually dramatic, involving travel, time with loved ones, quitting stressful jobs, starting businesses, moving to the countryside, learning instruments or writing books, and if we are being honest, most of these answers are slightly unrealistic, not because they are wrong, but because they quietly ignore the constraints of time, money and reality. You cannot realistically travel the world, start a business, learn an instrument and write a book in 24 hours, and even quitting your job or relocating would require logistics that extend far beyond a single day. What the question really reveals is not what people would do, but what they wish they had the space to do, because it assumes that most people are confused about what they want, when in reality most people already know. The problem is that wanting something and being able to act on that desire are two very different things, and most people are not lacking information about what would improve their lives, they are lacking room.

This becomes even clearer when you consider something as fundamental as health, because most people know when something is not right, they know when their job is affecting their sleep, when stress is becoming unsustainable, when noise, pollution, long commutes, poor diet, lack of exercise and constant anxiety are taking a toll, and the body is remarkably good at providing this kind of information. The challenge is not recognizing the problem, but responding to it, because responding may mean leaving a job, spending money, changing routines, upsetting other people or accepting uncertainty, and suddenly what looked like a health decision becomes a financial one, or a social one, or an emotional one.

I was reminded of this recently while dealing with something as simple as a foot problem, because walking is one of the few activities that has remained a constant in my life, and when my foot started bothering me, the logical thing seemed obvious: see a specialist and find out what is wrong. The information was there, the pain was there, the concern was there, but what complicated the decision was the cost, because a podiatry consultation in Nairobi can easily cost several thousand shillings before treatment even begins, and suddenly the question was no longer whether my foot mattered, but whether I could justify spending that amount of money on something many people would consider manageable. I eventually went and paid KES 5,000 for the consultation, and if I am being honest, it did not feel worth it, because I was given a prescription and told to come back if there was no change, with many assumptions made during that visit and very little effort to actually investigate the root of the problem, no scan, no deeper inquiry, just a standard response that did not match the concern I had walked in with. In hindsight, I suspect that going to a general hospital and getting a scan might have provided more clarity, but my foot still hurts, even after complete rest and finishing the medication, and that experience revealed something else, which is that even when you have the margin to act, there is no guarantee that the system you are stepping into will respond meaningfully.

This tension shows up everywhere, because we tell people to leave toxic jobs, but we rarely ask whether they can afford to, we tell people to leave unhealthy relationships, but we do not always consider where they will go, we tell people to prioritize their health, but we do not ask who will pay for it, and we tell people to follow their passion without addressing who will cover the rent while they figure it out. Advice often assumes agency, but life often does not, and perhaps that is why certain forms of privilege are so difficult to see, because they look like ordinary choices from the outside. The person who moves to a quieter neighborhood, the person who changes careers, the person who takes time off, the person who seeks therapy, the person who turns down work that compromises their health or simply walks away, all appear to be making decisions, but behind many of those decisions is margin, financial margin, emotional margin, social margin, and the ability to absorb the consequences of change.

This may also explain why awareness alone so rarely transforms lives, because while people often say that knowledge is power, knowledge without options can be its own form of frustration, and what power really requires is the ability to respond, to know something and have enough freedom to change course because of it. That, perhaps, is the privilege we talk about least, the privilege of not being trapped by reality, the privilege of receiving information and being able to act accordingly, the privilege of adjusting your life when the facts change, and once you start looking at the world through that lens, many things begin to make sense. People are not always living the lives they want because they lack information, often they are living the lives they can sustain because information alone is not enough, and if there is a solution, it is not a simple one, because it would require more than awareness, it would require creating conditions where people have enough margin to act, enough support to absorb change, and enough systems that respond meaningfully when they do. Until then, we are left with an uncomfortable truth: awareness is common, but agency is not.

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