When the System Turns Against Itself

Albert Einstein, one of the most celebrated scientists in human history, once faced a critical medical decision late in his life. The main artery responsible for supplying blood to the lower part of his body had swollen dangerously — a condition known as an abdominal aortic aneurysm. Doctors recommended surgery as the only viable option to save his life. At the time, Einstein was just over 70 years old.

But Einstein had grown weary of the world. Having witnessed the devastation of two world wars, he had developed a deep philosophical stance on violence and human suffering. He came to believe that violence never brings any lasting good; rather, it only leads to more violence, more destruction, and more pain. To him, the idea of undergoing surgery — a procedure that involved cutting into the body — appeared to reflect the same philosophy of violence he had come to reject.

So, Einstein refused the operation. In words that reveal both his realism and sense of completion, he said, “I have done my share; it is time to go.” At the age of 76, he passed away peacefully, having lived a life full of scientific wonder, philosophical reflection, and moral courage.

This story is not just about Einstein's death; it also mirrors a deeper truth about the human condition, especially in the way we respond to crises — physical, social, or ideological.

Consider the body’s immune system, for instance. Nature has gifted us with a self-regulating defense mechanism — an incredibly intelligent system of white blood cells that constantly patrol the body, searching for harmful invaders like bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens. Day and night, this system wages war to keep us alive and healthy, usually without us even noticing.

But sometimes, this brilliant system breaks down. It begins to see the body itself — the very entity it was meant to protect — as a threat. In such cases, it turns against its own host. One such condition is called Multiple Sclerosis (MS), an autoimmune disease in which the immune system starts attacking the central nervous system — including the brain and spinal cord. This leads to severe physical impairment, difficulty in breathing, and in many cases, paralysis.

The tragedy of MS is that the immune system, in its confusion, believes it is protecting the body, even as it destroys it from within. It does not recognize that its efforts to “defend” are actually bringing about slow, painful self-destruction.

This phenomenon isn’t confined to biology. It echoes eerily in societies and nations as well.

Today, it feels as though our own social and political systems have contracted a kind of societal multiple sclerosis. The very institutions and structures meant to protect us — governments, courts, law enforcement, and media — seem to be turning against the people they were designed to serve. They treat dissent as treason, criticism as an attack, and peaceful protest as chaos. In their quest to preserve order, they end up deepening disorder. In trying to cure, they cause further damage.

And just like the malfunctioning immune system, these systems seem unaware of their own destructiveness. They operate under the belief that they are saving the nation, protecting values, and preserving peace, even as they crush liberties, fuel fear, and incite violence.

One of the most painful aspects of such a situation is the collective denial that often accompanies it. No one in power wants to admit that the system is sick, that the time for reform — or even graceful retreat — has arrived. Unlike Einstein, who accepted his limits with wisdom and humility, many leaders today cling desperately to power, unwilling to face the reality of their own failure.

They see surgery — metaphorical or literal — as a violent disruption, rather than a necessary intervention. And so, the cycle of decay continues.

We may not be scientists or surgeons, but we must learn from Einstein’s final lesson: wisdom sometimes lies in letting go. It lies in recognizing when a system has run its course, when repair is no longer possible through force. Sometimes, the most courageous act is not to fight harder, but to step back — to acknowledge the need for change, for healing, for a new beginning.

Only then can we break the cycle of self-destruction — whether in our bodies, our societies, or our world.