Over the course of my life to date, the world has experienced profound change, most of it wholly positive. Some of those changes have been literally global, from extended life expectancies, reduced levels of overall hunger, higher levels of schooling and improved but limited rights for women. 

We have witnessed an end to colonial oppression and the expansion of basic political rights to hundreds of millions worldwide. Conflict on a grand scale has been reduced and more people now live in democracies of some sort than ever before. 

Other changes have been on a less grand but no less significant scale. Environmental awareness and action have increased exponentially as has the movement for fair and sustainable finance and trade. We have experienced successful campaigns on, for example, small arms and cluster bombs, on recycling of various types, on racial and gender discrimination and on sexual abuse to name but a very limited few.

None of this should make us complacent as recent trends and behaviours threaten to undermine our collective progress. Rather they should fuel our determination to continue. 

Simultaneously they illustrate two key issues; one that change is the norm. Situations change and can do so rapidly, despite the protests of those who would have us believe that nothing ever changes.

Secondly, they illustrate the power and importance of human agency in bringing about change. The bulk of the successes described above have come about through struggle – seldom have they come about without the campaign, the street, the petitions, the court cases and, most sadly of all, without the deaths, pain and suffering of many. 

In my own professional life, two struggles that led to momentous change were those against the evils of Apartheid and for peace and the beginnings of reconciliation in Ireland. Many, many doubted that either could succeed. We were constantly told we were naïve fools, troublemakers, traitors and worse.

Most of all we were told this is the way things are - they are a part of our (or their) culture and this is how they will remain. History shows just how wrong these arguments have been. It also highlights both the cost and the value of struggle in bringing about meaningful change.

I am constantly reminded of this in Malta when I am told there is little can be done about the political, economic and legal black hole the country finds itself in. The mantra is repeated over and over that this is the way things are done here; there are very few if any alternatives even as those alternatives stare us point-blank in the face.

Anti-Apartheid marchers demonstrate to demand the release of all the political prisoners in South Africa in 1990. Photo: AFP

We have an endless choice in how and what we consume, it doesn’t have to literally cost the earth or damage the lives of other people; we have choices over what we waste or what we conserve.

We have a choice on whether to wreck or protect our environment, we have the knowledge, skills and experience to do so.  We already know the basic contours of what a sustainable Malta might look like.

In theory, we have many of the laws and procedures that would protect Malta from its dominant criminalities; all we must do is doggedly insist individually and collectively that such laws are upheld and enforced.

We have choices as to how we treat our neighbours, communities, fellow citizens, those from other lands, cultures and traditions. Ignorance, bigotry and hatred do not have to be our default position no matter how much they are promoted on social media or by political interests and agendas. 

Maltese history, economy, culture and society are not set in stone, they change and will continue to do so. The question we face is what kind of change, that which represents continuity from the failures of the past or change that nourishes and sustains Malta into a different future?

Often it appears to me that we have lost our sense of personal and collective agency – we have become convinced that we are powerless to effect change.

We have been browbeaten into believing that history only happens to us; we are simply its objects, not its subjects. 

For all its many faults, the global history of the generation into which I was born tells me otherwise.