My neighbour bought a robot vacuum cleaner. "It cleans the house all by itself," he announced proudly.

The next week he bought a robot lawn mower.

The week after that, he proudly displayed a smart refrigerator that ordered groceries without speaking to a soul.

A month later I asked him, "Do you ever meet your neighbours?"

He looked puzzled.

"Why?" he asked. "Is there an app for that?"

That, unfortunately, is the story of modern civilisation.

There was a time when life itself demanded community. Villagers built each other's homes. Families gathered for meals. Festivals belonged to everyone. A neighbour's joy became our celebration. A neighbour's sorrow became our burden. Nobody survived alone because nobody wanted to.
Then came progress.

We learnt to drive ourselves, entertain ourselves, order food for ourselves, work by ourselves and increasingly, live by ourselves. Somewhere along the journey, "we" quietly packed its bags and left, while "I" moved into the biggest room in the house.

"I is enough for me."

It sounds wonderfully independent until we notice the cracks.

The last hundred years have witnessed astonishing technological advancement. They have also witnessed two world wars, countless regional conflicts, terrorism, ethnic hatred and an endless race to build bigger and deadlier weapons. Nations threaten one another with nuclear destruction as casually as neighbours once threatened to stop talking to each other over a fence.

Nobody seems to pause and imagine what a nuclear weapon really means. It is not statistics. It is mothers searching for children, children searching for parents, cities disappearing into smoke and generations living with scars they never deserved.

Peace conferences are held. As we have just seen. Speeches are made. As we have just seen. Agreements are signed. As we have just seen. Yet peace remains elusive because the disease is deeper than politics.

The disease is the worship of self.

When my comfort matters more than your survival, when my religion matters more than your dignity, when my nation matters more than your humanity, then conflict is only waiting for an excuse.

Nearly two thousand years ago, a carpenter from Nazareth offered a solution so simple that the world keeps ignoring it. "Love your neighbour as yourself."

Imagine if nations practised that. Imagine if politicians believed it before delivering speeches. Imagine if we looked at the person praying differently from us and quietly said, "Your life is as precious as mine."

Suddenly hatred loses its audience.

Even our Constitution begins with the beautiful words, "We the People." It never says, "I the Person."

Perhaps our future depends on recovering that forgotten two-letter word.

Let us replace "I is enough for me" with "You are enough for us."

And if changing the whole world feels impossible, begin with something much smaller.

Walk across to your neighbour. Knock on the door.

Because this peace formula begins with the first step, away from ourselves...