The art of thinking in a world without time.

In an increasingly fast-paced world, is there still room for that which requires pause? It is always very tempting to defend the importance of philosophy and the arts from the perspective of their utility, for what they can contribute to the world and to humankind as a whole, and to appeal to their elevated character that radiates to those who practice them and makes them, in turn, better. But perhaps we can consider an answer by defending the opening of space for that which is, in some way, useless.

In the times we live in, where everything is measured by results, results that must be quick above all, it seems a very bold and even utopian proposition to suggest that we make room in our routines for the activity of thinking. Thinking is a rather exhausting activity that demands time, solitude, and silence, three things that are increasingly scarce.

In this sense, it is also tempting to defend the importance of Philosophy and the arts in contrast to social networks, which are increasingly fast-paced and noisy, constantly mobilizing our attention as if we were in constant company with everyone else who crosses our algorithmic path. The speed of social networks creates an illusion of continuous time, where hours don't pass and, however contradictory it may seem, swallows all our minutes at once without us even realizing it. This is similar to what happens in shopping malls, with their intense lights that confuse perception and make us forget that, outside, the hands of the clocks are still running. Hands, no, because watches with hands are hardly used anymore.

I also don't believe, however, that placing the blame on technology solves the problem. In fact, this seems more like a diversion, like magic tricks, to avoid focusing our attention on a real problem, because real problems are more difficult, but we can always think of ways to circumvent them. False problems only keep us trapped in a cycle that consumes our energy and leads us nowhere. For example, saying that the problem of lack of thought is the existence of social media doesn't point us to a way out, because social media will continue to exist and capture everyone's attention.

With the advancement of generative artificial intelligence, many are rising up against it as if it represented the end of all intellectual activity on planet Earth. However, those students who want to read a book will read it even if there is an artificial intelligence that summarizes it, and those who don't want to will always find ways to circumvent this requirement. An example of this is the document known as... School days, written c. 2.000 BC in Sumeria, which deals precisely with a young scribe who, demotivated by corporal punishment from his teacher for his mistakes, begins to neglect his schoolwork.

If the problem isn't the tools, like artificial intelligence, or the new forms of leisure and communication, how do we address the issue? If technology is merely the magician's distraction, the real problem is the logic that governs the entire spectacle: a utility imperative that convinces us that our value lies solely in our ability to produce and consume.

The challenge, therefore, is not to fight against the tools offered to us, but against the mentality that leads us to use them only for productive purposes, emptying the spaces for breathing room. It is precisely here that the defense of the useless gains its strength. If the problem is a system that instrumentalizes everything, the answer can only be the radical demand for a time and space that do not need to serve any purpose – except to constitute us as subjects.

By abandoning the search for an external culprit, such as technology, we are forced to turn our gaze inward and to the culture that shapes us. We then realize that the true adversary is not an app or an algorithm, but the internalized pressure for constant performance, a productivity that does not allow for pauses. The question ceases to be "how to escape social media and artificial intelligence?" and becomes "how to cultivate an inner space that is not colonized by the logic of efficiency?". It is at this point that Philosophy and Art, with their apparent uselessness, reveal their subversive power.

The space of the useless is the space of freedom. It is the space in which we are not defined by our functions in relation to production and consumption, but are challenged to constitute ourselves as subjects capable of thinking about our existence, of thinking against the trends of thought of the present, of thinking even against our own thinking, against what we have been taught about the world and about ourselves.

The moment an activity no longer needs to justify itself through a financial or practical result, it becomes an end in itself. It is in this territory, free from instrumentalization, that we can experience the world in a way that goes beyond mere use. Art, in all its forms, allows us to see beyond the function of an object, to feel textures and edges, to be moved by a melody that serves no purpose other than to connect us with our own emotions and, consequently, with our existence, because we are what we do, feel, and think. Philosophy, in turn, invites us to think beyond the next task, to question the very structures that define what is necessary and urgent, and, even more, to remind us that doubt, not certainty, is what moves the world.

Besides allowing us to connect with feelings by provoking them, art also puts us in contact with others. When reading a Goan writer, such as Laxmanrao Sardessai, for example, or seeing the work of a Mozambican artist, such as Reinata Sadimba, or listening to a musical genre we didn't know, like Cape Verdean batuko, we are displaced from our territories of thought, we are launched into a way of living and feeling the world to which we would never have access except through art.

We cannot be in the other's place – Einstein already reminded us that two bodies cannot occupy the same space – the other is always inaccessible, but we can listen to them speak of themselves and try to see the world through their eyes – what is art if not the exercise of communicating our unique perspective on common reality?

If we only do what is necessary, we end up postponing everything that makes us a person. And what makes us a person, if not the capacity to be amazed by the world, to question our place in it, and to create new meanings for our existence?

Philosophy and Art are precisely the fields in which this subjectivity flourishes. The importance of Philosophy and Art does not lie in what they can produce, but in the spaces they open. In a world obsessed with quick answers, they give us back the right to slow questioning. In a culture that values ​​efficiency, they celebrate the pause. On the contrary, they offer us something much more valuable and rare: the quality of the question, the depth of perception, and the courage to investigate oneself.

Perhaps the place of art and philosophy is precisely this: to safeguard a space for everything that reminds us that being alive is much more than just being useful, and that supports us when we need to confront the question of what we are doing to ourselves, to others, and to the world in the time we have left.