It was a quiet evening in a bustling café, where the warm glow of hanging lights reflected off countless glowing screens.
A man in his twenties sat alone at a corner table, his laptop open, fingers hovering uncertainly above the keyboard. His coffee had gone cold.
Around him, dozens of others were equally engrossed in their devices, scrolling endlessly through social media feeds, double-tapping images, and skimming clickbait articles.
The man sighed deeply, closed his laptop, and stared out of the window as if searching for something lost, a spark, an idea, or simply a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of distraction.
This man’s dilemma wasn’t just about writer’s block or digital fatigue; it reflected a greater cultural hunger.
People are starving for content that is not just more of it but meaningful, resonant, and substantial. They are hungry for depth, which speaks to the core of their existence rather than merely grazing the surface of their attention spans.
In an age where quantity often triumphs over quality, our collective appetite for genuine depth seems insatiable yet unsatisfied.
Social media algorithms reward immediacy and brevity: viral dances, bite-sized memes, and headlines promising “five life hacks” dominate our feeds.
While these offer fleeting moments of amusement, they leave us hollow, like consuming fast food instead of a nourishing meal.
Beneath the endless scroll lies a yearning for substance, a return to storytelling that explores the depths of human experience and asks the questions that keep us awake at night.
This hunger for depth stems partly from the human need for connection. Stories that dive beneath the surface offer a mirror, reflecting our fears, dreams, and vulnerabilities.
They allow us to say, “I am not alone.”
Yet, when surrounded by content prioritising virality over vulnerability, we find ourselves adrift in a sea of superficiality.
Unsurprisingly, people are increasingly drawn to podcasts that unpack complex ideas, long-form essays that challenge assumptions, and even the revival of physical books.
These mediums provide the depth we crave but rarely find in the shallow waters of the internet.
You see, our hunger for depth is not just personal. It’s collective.
We live in a world grappling with existential crises: climate change, political polarisation, and the rapid advancement of artificial intelligence.
These problems cannot be solved with pithy tweets or flashy infographics. They require deep thinking, meaningful discourse, and stories that inspire us to imagine alternative futures.
Art, literature, and philosophy have always been the wellsprings of such depth, challenging us to look beyond the immediate and into the eternal.
Works like Homer’s Odyssey or Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein continue to resonate because they grapple with universal questions: What does it mean to be human? How do we navigate suffering?
In a world obsessed with the new, these timeless stories remind us of the power of depth. They speak to the hunger that can only be satisfied by exploring the profound and the eternal.
Yet depth is not easy. It demands time, effort, and a willingness to confront the uncomfortable.
For creators, it means resisting the pressure to produce content that is merely popular and instead striving to create meaningful work.
For audiences, it requires slowing down, reflecting, and engaging with content that might be challenging rather than comfortable.
The rewards are immense: a richer understanding of ourselves, deeper connections with others, and a sense of purpose beyond the next dopamine hit.
The man in the café eventually closed his laptop, picked up his notebook, and began to write. The words didn’t come quickly or easily, but they came with honesty and intention. Around him, the world kept scrolling, but he wasn’t concerned.
He knew what he was creating wouldn’t go viral but would be packed with value. It wouldn’t trend or gather likes. But it might, in its quiet way, speak to someone’s soul and remind them that they, too, are part of a larger story, one of humanity’s unending hunger for meaning, connection, and depth.
I was the man in the coffee shop.
I believe that people are starving for depth in content. Yes, they are hungry for content that nourishes, challenges and inspires, given in a slow, digestible form.
As creators, thinkers, and participants in this great human story, we must meet that hunger with something worthy of its appetite.
Be the signal in the noise; meaning matters more than metrics.
What I wrote
What I read
What I heard
What I tried
I just uploaded a few videos on YouTube.