The Paradox of Progress - To Disturb or Not to Disturb?

Growing up, I often heard my father’s voice echo through our home, firm and unwavering: “Don’t touch what’s working. You’ll only add to the chaos.” A retired headmaster, he carried the weight of decades spent shaping young minds, and his words were rooted in a deep respect for order. To him, a system that functioned—even imperfectly—was better left alone than risked for the sake of change. But as I listened, a question gnawed at me: If we never disturb what’s working, how do we ever make it better?

It’s a paradox that’s followed me into adulthood. On one hand, stability is comforting—systems that hum along keep life predictable. On the other, progress demands disruption, a willingness to upset the balance for something greater. My father’s caution feels like wisdom, but my instinct to challenge the status quo feels like necessity. And when I look at the world, especially India, I see this tension playing out in ways that shape not just individual lives but entire societies.

The Comfort of the Known

My father’s mantra isn’t unique to him—it’s a mindset woven into the fabric of many Indian households. Don’t rock the boat. Stick to what’s safe. For centuries, this caution has been a survival tool. In a land of invasions, famines, and colonial rule, holding fast to what worked—be it caste traditions, family businesses, or government jobs—was often the difference between stability and ruin. Even today, the allure of a steady paycheck in IT or bureaucracy pulls millions toward “safe” careers over riskier ventures.

But there’s a cost to this. India, with its 1.4 billion people and vibrant culture, has become a nation of consumers more than creators. We buy smartphones designed in California, drive cars engineered in Germany, and rely on medicines patented in Switzerland. Our economy thrives on services—call centers, software coding, back-office support—but lags in producing the kind of innovation that reshapes the world. Why? Perhaps because we’ve been taught, like my father taught me, to avoid disturbing what’s working.

The Price of Stagnation

Yet history shows that progress often comes from those who dare to disturb. Take the example of India’s Green Revolution in the 1960s. At the time, the country teetered on the edge of famine, its agricultural system “working” just enough to keep people fed—barely. Scientists like M.S. Swaminathan and policymakers like C. Subramaniam took a gamble, introducing high-yield crops and modern farming techniques. It was chaotic—farmers resisted, infrastructure strained—but the result was a food surplus that transformed India from a beggar nation to a grain exporter. They disturbed the system, and it worked.

Contrast that with India’s semiconductor industry—or lack thereof. Today, the world runs on chips, from phones to fighter jets. Taiwan, South Korea, and China dominate this space, while India imports nearly every chip it uses. In the 1980s, India had a chance to build a semiconductor ecosystem, with early efforts like the Semiconductor Complex Limited (SCL) in Chandigarh. But bureaucracy, risk-aversion, and a focus on “what’s working” (cheap labor and services) let the opportunity slip. We didn’t disturb the system then, and now we’re playing catch-up, with initiatives like the 2022 Semiconductor Mission still in their infancy.

A Global Perspective

This paradox isn’t just Indian—it’s human. Look at Japan in the 19th century. For over 200 years, the Tokugawa shogunate enforced stability, isolating the country from the world. It worked—Japan avoided colonization and internal strife. But when American ships forced open its ports in 1853, the system crumbled. The Meiji Restoration that followed was a deliberate disturbance—rapid industrialization, education reform, and Western-style governance. By 1905, Japan was defeating Russia in war, a global power born from upheaval.

Or consider the tech boom in Silicon Valley. Companies like Apple and Tesla didn’t just tweak what was working; they shattered it. Steve Jobs didn’t ask if people wanted a touchscreen phone—he built one and made the world want it. Elon Musk didn’t wait for electric cars to feel “safe”; he bet everything on a vision. These disruptions weren’t tidy, but they redefined what progress could be.

India’s Untapped Potential

So why does India lean so heavily toward caution? Part of it is cultural—our reverence for tradition and hierarchy discourages questioning. Part of it is structural—our education system rewards rote learning over experimentation, producing workers, not inventors. And part of it is economic—when survival is uncertain, who has the luxury to take risks? The common person, scraping by in Delhi’s slums or Bihar’s villages, can’t afford to disturb their fragile stability.

Yet, there are glimmers of change. Startups like Zomato and Ola didn’t just accept India’s consumer status—they built products for Indians, by Indians. Scientists at ISRO disturbed the idea that space exploration was for rich nations, landing Chandrayaan-3 on the moon’s south pole in 2023 for a fraction of NASA’s budget. These are disruptions that prove we can produce, not just consume.

Finding the Balance

My father’s words still linger, and I don’t think he’s entirely wrong. Chaos for its own sake is reckless—disturbing a system without a plan can break more than it builds. But I also believe that progress asks us to take that chance, to trust that a little mess can lead to something better. India’s future—whether in semiconductors, medicine, or manufacturing—depends on finding that balance. We need to teach our children not just to respect what works, but to question why it can’t work better. We need policies that reward risk-takers, not just rule-followers. And we need to give the common person—our coders, farmers, dreamers—the tools to disturb without fear of falling.

As I wrestle with this paradox, I think of my father, his chalk-dusted hands shaping generations. He built order, and I’m grateful for it. But I also think of the world I want to leave behind—one where India doesn’t just consume the future but creates it. That world won’t come from keeping things as they are. It’ll come from daring to disturb, just enough, to let progress breathe.