The other day I asked a young man for directions. He did not answer me. Instead, he pulled out his phone, stared at it with deep affection, and then began speaking, not to me, but to the glowing rectangle in his hand. “One minute,” he said, as if the phone and he were having a private discussion about my future.
Finally, he looked up and said, “Google says you go straight, then left, then right.”
I thanked him, though I had a strange feeling that if Google had told him to walk me into the Arabian Sea, he might have politely escorted me there and waved goodbye.
We live in a time where answers arrive faster than questions. Ask anything. What is the capital of Mongolia. Done. How tall is Mount Everest. Done. Who won a match in 1983. Done. The phone knows everything. The problem is, we have started believing that knowing everything is the same as understanding anything.
It is not.
Wisdom is, taking what you find on Google and using it to understand before you respond.
That small step changes everything.
Because information tells you what is happening. Wisdom asks why it is happening. Information tells you what to say. Wisdom tells you whether it should be said at all. Information fills your head. Wisdom shapes your response.
Today, everybody has information. Nobody has time. We read headlines, not articles. We forward messages, not thoughts. We quote people we have never met and believe things we have never examined. Somewhere between the typing and the forwarding, wisdom quietly packed its bags and left.
Social media has made this even more interesting. Earlier, if you did not know something, you stayed quiet. Now, if you do not know something, you immediately post your opinion about it. Confidence has replaced competence. Volume has replaced value.
I recently saw an argument online about something highly complicated. Within minutes, experts had appeared. Not one had studied the subject, but all had strong views. One gentleman even ended his argument with “Trust me, I saw a video.” That, it seems, is the new university degree.
I remember my grandmother. She had no Google. No smartphone. But when she spoke, her children listened. Not because she had information, but because she had understanding. She would listen fully, think quietly, and then respond simply. No noise, no hurry, no need to impress.
Perhaps that is what we are missing today. Not answers, but understanding. Not speed, but depth.
So the next time your phone gives you an answer, pause for a moment. Ask yourself, have I understood this, or am I about to react to it.
Because in a world full of information, wisdom is not what you find. It is what you do with what you find…!