Sometimes one baby manages to make you think about a hundred years | Yona Bartal

It happened to me this week. A dear friend, who fought like a lioness to fulfill the dream of motherhood, gave birth to a son. A little prince with beautiful eyes. When I looked at him, I thought to myself: if the predictions of the longevity world come true, it is possible that this baby will live a hundred years, maybe even more. What a dizzying thought. A generation born into a reality where a life of a hundred years is no longer a dream, but a real possibility.

I deal quite a bit in this field. Science is advancing at a fantastic speed, medicine is breaking boundaries, awareness of preventive care is changing the rules of the game, and artificial intelligence is no longer science fiction but an integral part of our lives. We are closer than ever to significantly extending life expectancy. But then I return to the ground.

I look around me and ask myself not only how many years this child will live, but in what kind of world he will live. After all, we live in the Middle East, a region that struggles to remember what a routine is. The whole world is becoming more violent, extreme, and polarized. Leaders seek power and control, dictatorships are strengthening, the arms industry is becoming more sophisticated and dangerous, and artificial intelligence, which was intended to help humans, is already raising questions about our ability to control what we have created.

And above all these stands our planet. A tired, warming, and crying-out-for-help globe. The massive fires, heat waves, floods, and earthquakes are no longer exceptional events. They are becoming our daily routine. And yet, it seems that the world continues to argue instead of acting.

So what awaits the children born today? Will they get to enjoy the achievements of science, or will they be forced to deal with the heavy price of our failures? I have no answer, but I have faith.

Work plan

I had the privilege of working for many years alongside Shimon Peres, and one of his sentences accompanies me almost every day: "Optimism is a work plan." Not a wish. Not a passive hope. A work plan.

This means that each of us needs to start at home. In the family. With the children and grandchildren. To talk about human dignity, about love for others, about responsibility, about tolerance, and about mutual guarantee. To remind that human progress is not measured only by the speed of processors or scientific breakthroughs, but also by our ability to remain human. Because in the end, the most important question is not whether the children born today will live a hundred years.

The question is what kind of world we are building for each of these hundred years. And perhaps precisely now, as we approach another election cycle, it is an opportunity to stop and ask ourselves not only who promises us more, but who is worthy of leading us. What kind of person do we want to stand at the head of the state. What kind of team do we want to shape the future of our children.

Beyond the arguments, the slogans, and the endless noise, it is worth returning to the fundamental questions: Do our leaders know how to unite and not just divide? Do they place the good of the country above their own good? Do they set a personal example and show integrity, responsibility, statesmanship, and compassion?

Our choice is not only at the ballot box. It is also our daily choice as a society. To choose respectful discourse instead of hatred, mutual guarantee instead of indifference, responsibility instead of incitement, and hope instead of despair. If we adopt this work plan at home, at school, on the street, in workplaces, and also at the ballot box - perhaps we will succeed in giving the children born today not only a longer life, but also a country and a society that will be worthy of this longevity.

This is our responsibility. This is our choice. And this is the greatest gift we can give to the next generation.

The author is the former Deputy Director General of the President's Residence and founder and chair of the Friends of the Peres Center for Peace and Innovation.