AI is reshaping how we work. Technology is changing how we communicate. We are more connected digitally while becoming increasingly disconnected from one another.

Perhaps our ‘humanness’ matters more than ever.

The mountain climber hangs from the cliff, contemplating the next move. You have seen the photographs.

A tiny human figure suspended against an enormous wall of rock, searching for the next handhold or foothold. The concentration is palpable because one wrong move could mean falling.

What you don’t often see is the person holding the rope. I love this idea from mountain climbing because the system is designed to work in pairs. One person climbs. The other belays.

When you come off the wall, your partner holds the rope with your whole weight on it. Then, on the next pitch, you do the same for them. The roles change, but the system works because neither person is expected to do it alone.

But somehow, away from the mountains, we have absorbed almost the opposite idea. Be self-sufficient.

Total nonsense. Be self-made. A lie we have somehow turned into an aspiration. Practise self-love. Or the bigger lie, ‘Just make yourself happy’. Ultimately, become independent.

We are encouraged to see needing people as a weakness to grow out of. We can even begin to see the messiness of human relationships as the problem. If someone isn’t making you happy, move on. Avoid having the difficult conversations that most relationships require. Take offence too quickly and offer grace only when you are feeling particularly generous.

We wear independence like a badge of honour. But the mountain has no patience for that idea. Solo climbing is a dangerous endeavour and, let’s face it, life should not be done solo. Bear Grylls put it beautifully: “Lone wolves don’t look strong for long out there. They often just look hungry.”

The system works because people hold one another.

There are seasons when you are the person on the wall. You are making decisions, taking risks and finding the next handhold. From the ground, you might look incredibly strong. But you aren’t doing it alone.

Someone is holding the rope.

Then there are seasons when you are standing at the bottom. Watching. Paying attention and holding the rope. The most important thing you can do is make sure someone knows that if their feet come off the wall, you are still there.

And then the roles change. That isn’t failure. That is the system working.

The more capable technology becomes, the more valuable the things that make us human may become. Trust. Courage. Connection. The ability to ask for help. The ability to notice when someone else is struggling.

I hope the pinnacle of our future isn’t being someone who can do everything alone, aided by the smartest systems. I hope we remember that, now more than ever, building human connection, in all its messiness, is priceless.

Sometimes you are the climber. Sometimes you are the person holding the rope. And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit you need someone else to hold yours.

Strong relationships are often built in ordinary moments. So check in. Make time for the phone call. Ask the brave question, ‘How are you actually doing?’

Wouldn’t the future be better if, instead of striving to be self-sufficient, we invested in mountain-climbing relationships that quietly reaffirm: ‘I’ve got you’.