<p>Much of everyday life runs on quiet transactions. We smile, expecting a smile in return. We offer help, hoping it will be remembered. Even our digital lives operate on reciprocity; “likes” invite "likes", and silence feels like rejection. Life, at one level, is a series of transactions. And yet, something in us resists this reduction. Across the animal world, parents care for their young; it is instinctive. Care for the elderly, however, is uniquely human. It serves no immediate biological purpose. Civilisation begins where instinct is restrained by empathy. </p>.<p>Recently, I found myself hesitating before returning a call. The person on the other end had helped me in the past, and I sensed this conversation would come with an expectation. It was a small moment, almost trivial, but it stayed with me. When did simple human interactions begin to feel like pending obligations?</p>.The electrifying domestic war .<p>Growing up in Kerala in the 1970s and 1980s, life was not free of give-and-take. But it was rarely this calculated. We shared space, food, and time without keeping accounts. Asking too much was considered poor manners; giving quietly was a virtue. Reciprocity existed, but it remained unspoken. Wealth was not meant to be displayed. In fact, there were almost theatrical attempts to conceal it. I remember an elderly, wealthy gentleman who used to visit our home, dressed in white cotton clothes, threads fraying at the edges.</p>.<p>What seems to be changing today is not the presence of transactions, but their tone. They are becoming harder, more explicit, and often more demanding. Entitlement replaces courtesy. Requests turn into expectations. What was once offered is now claimed.</p>.<p>I have spent years observing international relations, and the parallels are difficult to ignore. Nations, much like individuals, are driven by pride, anger, insecurity, rivalry, and memory, despite the presence of seasoned statesmen and diplomats. Diplomacy, once measured and discreet, is increasingly performative. Private conversations spill into the public domain. Strength is projected through unpredictability, even rudeness.</p>.<p>We see this when the powerful engage the rest: assistance tied to conditions, partnerships reduced to leverage, moral language replaced by transactional logic. This is often described as realism. But realism without restraint is little more than instinct in formal attire. The danger is that when every interaction becomes a deal, trust begins to thin out. Relationships, whether personal or between nations, cannot endure on calculation alone.</p>.<p>Civilisations endure not by power alone, but by shared norms; restraint in victory, dignity in conduct, and empathy in strength. To feast while one’s neighbour starves may signal wealth, but it reveals a deep moral failure.</p>.<p>That missed call stayed with me because it revealed something uncomfortable, not about the other person, but about myself. How easily I had begun to measure, to anticipate, and to calculate.</p>.<p>Transactions may be inevitable. But they need not define us. When values accompany deals, and dignity tempers ambition, both individuals and nations move closer to something larger than success.</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
<p>Much of everyday life runs on quiet transactions. We smile, expecting a smile in return. We offer help, hoping it will be remembered. Even our digital lives operate on reciprocity; “likes” invite "likes", and silence feels like rejection. Life, at one level, is a series of transactions. And yet, something in us resists this reduction. Across the animal world, parents care for their young; it is instinctive. Care for the elderly, however, is uniquely human. It serves no immediate biological purpose. Civilisation begins where instinct is restrained by empathy. </p>.<p>Recently, I found myself hesitating before returning a call. The person on the other end had helped me in the past, and I sensed this conversation would come with an expectation. It was a small moment, almost trivial, but it stayed with me. When did simple human interactions begin to feel like pending obligations?</p>.The electrifying domestic war .<p>Growing up in Kerala in the 1970s and 1980s, life was not free of give-and-take. But it was rarely this calculated. We shared space, food, and time without keeping accounts. Asking too much was considered poor manners; giving quietly was a virtue. Reciprocity existed, but it remained unspoken. Wealth was not meant to be displayed. In fact, there were almost theatrical attempts to conceal it. I remember an elderly, wealthy gentleman who used to visit our home, dressed in white cotton clothes, threads fraying at the edges.</p>.<p>What seems to be changing today is not the presence of transactions, but their tone. They are becoming harder, more explicit, and often more demanding. Entitlement replaces courtesy. Requests turn into expectations. What was once offered is now claimed.</p>.<p>I have spent years observing international relations, and the parallels are difficult to ignore. Nations, much like individuals, are driven by pride, anger, insecurity, rivalry, and memory, despite the presence of seasoned statesmen and diplomats. Diplomacy, once measured and discreet, is increasingly performative. Private conversations spill into the public domain. Strength is projected through unpredictability, even rudeness.</p>.<p>We see this when the powerful engage the rest: assistance tied to conditions, partnerships reduced to leverage, moral language replaced by transactional logic. This is often described as realism. But realism without restraint is little more than instinct in formal attire. The danger is that when every interaction becomes a deal, trust begins to thin out. Relationships, whether personal or between nations, cannot endure on calculation alone.</p>.<p>Civilisations endure not by power alone, but by shared norms; restraint in victory, dignity in conduct, and empathy in strength. To feast while one’s neighbour starves may signal wealth, but it reveals a deep moral failure.</p>.<p>That missed call stayed with me because it revealed something uncomfortable, not about the other person, but about myself. How easily I had begun to measure, to anticipate, and to calculate.</p>.<p>Transactions may be inevitable. But they need not define us. When values accompany deals, and dignity tempers ambition, both individuals and nations move closer to something larger than success.</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>