We stand at the threshold of a new year, ready to pack away the holiday lights and mulled wine as we hurl ourselves headlong into 2025. And yet, a subtle, gnawing regret lingers. It’s that uneasy sense that the “me-first” society—the single-minded pursuit of our own validation—has set deeper roots in our daily lives than ever before. Moments that could be devoted to collective action, or at least mutual reflection, are overshadowed by ceaseless attempts to get ahead or outdo others.

And so, in a touch of paradox, allow me to present a somewhat self-focused meditation on the power of us.

A Year of “Me–Me–Me”

For centuries, psychology and philosophy have wrestled with our proclivity for egocentrism. Thomas Hobbes once famously wrote, “Homo homini lupus”—man is a wolf to his fellow man. In times of crisis, these words resonate with a particularly somber tone.

Crisis does something fascinating: it amplifies our self-preserving instincts. We’ve been buffeted by wave upon wave of anxiety—global pandemics, economic uncertainty, climate emergencies, political turmoil—and it’s no wonder many of us shift into survival mode. In fact, the word of the year in Germany for 2023 was “crisis mode,” and in Saxony, the 2024 dialect term of the year is “Hudelei,” a catch-all for muddles, messes, or nuisances. And “Dunkelflaute”—literally “dark lull,” as an obscure energy term—has been the talk of the media ending the year.

It’s as if our entire cultural lexicon now revolves around the notion that we’re perpetually in trouble. And in a world where we constantly brace for the worst, it makes sense that elbows become sharper. Take energy prices, for example: prices are actually on average lower in 2024 compared to 2023, and are poised to trend lower in 2025, yet profiteers still bank on our collective fear. Without a shared commitment to reform and distribution, the average consumer pays more than necessary. So, we are stuck in a cycle: everyone is in it for themselves, few are in it for the group.

The Tension Between Egoism and Altruism

Neuroscience tells us our brains are wired for both self-interest and altruism. We oscillate along this spectrum throughout our lifetimes—sometimes even during the course of a single day. Crisis, though, can push us to extremes. As the pandemic proved, younger adults especially can lose their equanimity, turning anxious, defensive, and mistrustful as each new headline rattles our sense of stability.

But the lure of ego can be a mirage: material wealth, ambition, the endless pursuit of more—they all, paradoxically, correlate with heightened anxiety and depression. Meanwhile, a life governed entirely by the expectation that others should meet our needs undermines our own sense of agency.

The False Promise of the Ego—And a Plea for “Healthy Self-Interest”

At first blush, focusing on number one seems reasonable. If you cut in line, you do gain a few extra minutes. If you speed past a slow driver, you might reach your destination a hair faster. But research in psychology reveals an uncomfortable truth: an unwavering fixation on personal advantage rarely yields lasting contentment. Indeed, it often comes paired with fear, envy, and the breakdown of social bonds.

Psychologist Adam Grant uses the term “otherish” to describe an optimal blend of self-care and care for others. This tension isn’t contradictory; it’s about recognizing when to step back for personal recharge versus when you can extend yourself to those around you. When we do things for others, we strengthen connections and, ironically, also nurture our own mental health.

Why Altruism Makes Us Stronger

In a culture awash in I, me, mine, altruism can seem radical—almost futuristic. Yet even small gestures, from volunteering a few hours to offering a kind word to a frazzled shopper, can benefit the giver as much as the recipient. We find ourselves linked in a larger web of reciprocity that, to borrow Grant’s phrase, propels a dynamic dance between egoistic and prosocial impulses.

This doesn’t mean we should neglect self-care. Indeed, in an era of continuous crisis, protective instincts are inevitable. But there’s a risk that by becoming so absorbed in fortifying our personal fortresses, we abandon our duties to the community. History shows that societies thrive on mutual support—through acts of generosity that help everyone remain resilient.

The Festival of “We”—A “Dugnad” for 2025

During the Blåtime – “the blue hour” – in my hometown of Røros, Norway, I reflect on my own behavior when nobody’s watching. Am I willing to spend a few extra seconds so that someone else’s day might be a little less stressful? Would I let someone cut ahead in line if it made a real difference for them?

Now, as we edge toward 2025, our newsfeeds swarm with tips for new resolutions, life hacks, and lofty goals. But perhaps this coming year is our chance to practice a more rational, benevolent compassion—one that transcends fleeting fads. If we find ourselves grumbling about “Dunkelflaute,” maybe it’s worth asking if the real energy shortfall is the one between people—our connection, our compassion.

We risk becoming a society of the undead—physically present but psychologically isolated—almost like a zombie apocalypse. In our ceaseless chatter, the lights are on, but is anyone truly at home to perceive them? Flipping over that last page of 2024 can be an invitation to begin the new year not just with personal vigor but with shared Lebendigkeit—the vitality of life itself. After all, by strengthening our communities, we inadvertently strengthen ourselves.

Maybe we can claim “Dugnad” as word of the year. The Norwegian term symbolizes a sort of unconditional, voluntary service to others. The paradox here is delicious: leaning away from our ego may be precisely what propels our individual growth forward. In shoring up our social foundations, each of us discovers more room for self-realization.

A Technological Model for Human Growth

In times of exponential technological progress, perhaps we can see this as a “reinforcement-learning model” for humanity: the more our community plays at a higher level, the more it encourages each of us to rise—driven by genuine, intrinsic motivation rather than leaving others behind.

So here’s to the next “Blåtime” and to 2025—a year that champions the collective and fosters a more enlightened individualism, lighting the road to a society of Lebendigkeit.

Godt nyttår from Røros.