Depth Didn’t Disappear. It Just Stopped Being Rewarded.
People still bring depth. It just isn’t always recognised.
Amu
Depth didn’t vanish.
It didn’t fall out of fashion overnight.
It didn’t become irrelevant.
It’s still there — offered quietly, often early, usually without fanfare.
What changed is what gets noticed.
Attention gravitates toward what’s easy to process. What moves quickly. What doesn’t ask much in return. Depth, by contrast, takes time to register. It doesn’t announce itself. It rarely demands immediate response.
So it’s easy to miss.
People still bring care into conversations. They still show up with curiosity, consistency, and a genuine desire to understand the person in front of them. But those signals don’t always receive a response that matches their weight.
Not because they’re unwanted.
Because they’re subtle.
Depth doesn’t perform well in environments that prioritise momentum. It doesn’t escalate on cue. It doesn’t always fit neatly into short exchanges or provisional interactions.
And when something doesn’t get acknowledged, people adjust.
They don’t stop being thoughtful. They stop leading with it. They learn when to hold back. When to keep things light. When not to offer more than what seems to be expected.
Not as a strategy — as a reflex.
Over time, what’s visible starts to shape what feels worth offering. If depth isn’t recognised, it begins to feel inefficient. Excessive. Out of place.
So it moves underground.
It shows up later. Or more selectively. Or not at all.
This creates a strange illusion. It can start to look like people don’t want anything meaningful anymore. Like sincerity has disappeared. Like no one is willing to stay with something long enough to let it take shape.
But often, it’s still there — just unrewarded.
Unmirrored.
Unacknowledged.
Left without a response that tells it to continue.
Depth doesn’t need applause. But it does need recognition. And when that recognition is inconsistent, people learn to ration what they bring.
Not because they stopped caring.
Because they noticed what landed — and what didn’t.
So depth didn’t disappear.
It just learned to wait.