When Shapes Us
Photo by Rachel Gant—Sweden, 2012
Tyler Cowen, the economist known for his intellectual omnivory, has argued that every thinker and artist is, in some essential way, a philosopher of place. That is, where we come from—our geography, our culture, our soil—shapes how we think. The air, the architecture, the rhythm of local life all leave marks on our inner logic. And he’s right. The intellectual soil of Paris yields a different worldview than the arid sprawl of Texas.
But while place is powerful, it’s not the only force shaping us.
We are also philosophers of time.
Our age—both the historical era we live through and the stage of life we occupy—quietly conditions our worldview. Much of what we perceive as “our” insight, or “our” attitude, is often just the product of when we’re looking.
This becomes increasingly clear with age. When I was in college, I saw people in their 30s and 40s as dull, uncurious, preoccupied with families and finances. I chalked up many of their life circumstances to wealth or privilege: the house, the career, the sense of security. What I didn’t yet understand was that time itself is a kind of privilege.
To someone who grew up without a financial safety net, the world of comfort and cushion can seem otherworldly—like others are gliding smoothly above the terrain while you’re grinding your way through it, low to the ground, one missed step away from collapse. I sometimes picture it like this: some people move through life in a well-insulated vehicle; others are in a Star Wars-style landspeeder, just hovering above the dirt, every rock and gust of wind felt in the bones.
And yet, many of the trappings I once resented—home ownership, stable income, even emotional calm—weren’t necessarily markers of wealth. They were markers of time. You don’t see that when you’re 20 and struggling and exhausted. You see distance. You see difference. But what you’re really seeing, more often than not, is just age. You haven’t yet had the time to grow into those circumstances.
Of course, privilege exists. Wealth exists. So does luck. But we rarely account for the compound interest of time—how simply staying in the game, year after year, changes the terrain. Assets accumulate. Skills compound. Life softens in some areas and hardens in others.
This may all sound obvious to older readers. But to younger ones—especially those coming from modest backgrounds—it may feel like a kind of betrayal. How could the people ahead of you not have been born on third base? How could they possibly understand your precarious footing?
The answer is: many of them do. They were once where you are. They just had time to climb.
So yes, we’re shaped by where we’re from. But we’re just as shaped by when. The perspective of any given person is not fixed—it’s unfolding. Contextual. Temporary.
The question isn’t just where we’re coming from.
It’s when we’re seeing from.