Imagine a world where everyone was exactly the same.

We’d like the same foods and drinks. Support the same team—who would they even play against? Without disagreement, there’d be no conflict, no tension, no stories. And without different desires, we’d either want everything or nothing at all.

We’d watch the same films and eat the same popcorn—salty, please, because I’ve never liked the sweet kind. If we all chased the same dreams, we’d be journalists in London, writing about ourselves and each other. Because, after all, we’d all be the same.

We’d agree that summer is better than winter. Fashion would disappear—we’d wear the same clothes. Music would blur into one endless song, and you’d only be lucky if your favourite was also mine.

If we were all the same, your opinion would become public opinion. Your voice, my voice, our neighbour’s—indistinguishable. There’d be no secrets, no arguments, no selfishness. What’s mine would be yours. What’s yours, mine.

Prejudice, hatred, and bullying wouldn’t exist. No one would take advantage of anyone. There’d be no need for religion—we’d all believe in the same thing. And yes, we’d love one another… because we’d be mirrors of ourselves.

We’d fall in love with the same person. Name our children the same names. Face the same problems. Live the same number of years. And, in the end, we’d die on the same day, at the same time, for the same reason.

Would the world be better that way?

Sameness breeds stagnation. It flattens the spark of life. It’s our differences—our quirks, questions, cultures, and contradictions—that make the world vibrant.

Let’s celebrate what sets us apart—it’s the very thing that makes life worth living.