Degradation of Society ... Why?

Lately, I’ve been watching a few vlogs on YouTube. After half a dozen or so, a recurring theme stood out: the decline of post-industrial, consumer-driven society. Towns and cities across the UK seem to be losing their sense of community, unraveling at the seams.

The vloggers often capture this decline in a raw, human way, speaking to both young and old about how life has changed, and not for the better. Scenes of fly tipping, crumbling support services, addiction issues, it all adds up to a portrait of decay. Once-thriving businesses now lie abandoned, and public buildings stand empty, forgotten.

Amidst the bleakness, there are flickers of hope. Small acts of resistance, people helping the vulnerable, offering dignity and a chance to improve their lives. But these moments are rare. One vlogger summed it up often with the phrase, “Well, it is what it is...”

Still, it got me thinking: about resilience. About how, in some cultures, people have endured even worse and found a way to rise. I remembered a story from an African state, where mothers, tired of losing their sons to violence, banded together to end the bloodshed. It was their sheer determination and maternal strength that made the difference.

In the West, I wonder if we’ve lost something essential. In many cultures, the mother is seen as the sovereign head of the family, a fierce protector. In nature, it's the mother who will fight to the death for her offspring. That same instinct, that sacred role, used to be reflected in early Christianity and older traditions. The mother as the pillar of the family. The one who suffers, and sacrifices, to preserve the next generation.

I’ve seen it firsthand in some circumstances, women embodying that spirit. It’s deeply moving, and often overlooked. Perhaps it was this very strength that once formed the cornerstone of the family unit, passing not just genetics, but character through the generations.

But over time, male-dominated systems eroded this role. Modern culture has diminished motherhood, reframed it, and left it a shadow of its former self.

Recently, I read about the original purpose of Mother's Day. It wasn’t just about appreciation, it began as a protest. A mother’s plea to end the Civil War in America, to stop sons from killing sons. That deeper meaning has been lost, like so many other truths in history, watered down, commercialized, and forgotten. And with those losses, we lose valuable insights into our present struggles.

It’s tempting to focus on just one issue, but we also need to reflect on past eras of hardship. How did people get through them? Were the changes for better or worse? Often, what appears good on the surface hides deeper problems that emerge too late.

When history is distorted or erased, it becomes nearly impossible to learn from it. Those in power preserve control above all, and it shows to those who look closely.

Returning to the original point, the visible collapse of our towns and cities, it’s a phenomenon with no clear solution. Many people seem disconnected from it, clinging to distractions while sinking deeper into cycles of despair.

But the damage is not evenly felt. It hits hardest at the lower rungs of society, the very people whose labor once built the nation’s wealth.

I believe one of society’s greatest missteps was stripping the mother of her role as natural protector. Perhaps society was even designed with this disempowerment in mind. I could be wrong, but it feels like an important insight. Just as today’s confusion around gender and identity feels like a continuation of this erosion.

We’ve lost touch with our natural masculine and feminine traits, qualities long honored in tribal cultures. If we want to understand our current predicament, we need to look back to the time before the shift. What changed? What did we lose?

Often, nature itself holds the answers. If we study it, we might just find a way forward, out of the darkness, toward a better understanding of who we are and what we’re up against.