When Advancement Is Not Progress

If you live in 2025, there is a silent assumption in the air.

New is always better. Digital is always smarter. Faster is always forward.

Most of us never say this out loud, but we live like it is true. We migrate our Bible into an app, our meetings into the cloud, our friendships into WhatsApp, our thinking into templates, and now even our writing into AI. Life becomes smoother, more efficient, very impressive on the outside.

Until one day, you realise you are moving faster, but not necessarily moving forward.

That was the tension I walked into without planning for it. It began with something very simple. I could not find a quiet place to work in my own school.

And the strange solution that followed surprised even me.

I went backward.

I went old school.

And for the first time in a long time, I could feel my mind and my heart moving forward again.

The Week I Went Old School

The day I could not find a quiet place

The story really started the night before our first senior leadership team meeting.

I was already feeling the weight of this season. We are entering a huge milestone for Stellar, and the senior leadership team conversation is not a small thing. It is about the future of the group, the direction of our people, the legacy of our work. These are not “just another meeting” topics.

I needed space to think.

But the whole school was packed.

My room was occupied, because Samuel was in full swing with meetings. The meeting room upstairs was taken. The discussion room was taken. Even Wu Ren’s production house, which is usually quiet when the team is away, was noisy.

So I did what felt like defeat at first. I packed my things, went home, and worked from there.

At home, something in me said, “Go old school.”

On the table, I placed the printed manuscript of Lead to Impact. Not a PDF. Not a Google Doc. Plain paper. I picked up a pen and started scribbling all over the pages.

I circled. I crossed out. I wrote in the margins. I drew arrows and question marks. I did what I had not done for a long time.

To my surprise, fresh insights started to come. Ideas I did not even think I was capable of appeared as my pen moved. I could see the flow better. I remembered the structure better. The content sat in my brain differently.

I snapped a photo and sent it to Samuel.

“I am going old school,” I told him, “and it is very effective.”

That moment was not random. It was the second ripple of something that started two weeks earlier.

The strange instruction to buy a physical Bible

Two weeks before this, my pastor suggested something that, honestly, annoyed me at first.

He said, “Why not get a physical Bible and do devotion with your children using that, not your phone?”

My first reaction was very reactive.

“What? Physical Bible? Are you serious? We have apps now. I have been reading the Bible on my phone for years. Why go backward when we are so advanced?”

Inside, I was thinking, “Are we really going back to pre-smartphone era?” It felt strange. Maybe even unnecessary.

But I obeyed anyway.

I have a belief that obedience often comes before revelation. If I have not tried something, I am not qualified to say it will not work. The cost to try was also not high. A physical Bible is less than a hundred ringgit. The real issue was not the price.

The real issue was my habit.

I realised I had not been investing in physical books for a long time. I had slowly drifted into a fully digital reading world. Buying a physical book felt like buying a relic.

But I bought it.

When the Bible arrived, I tore off the wrapping like any other online purchase. Then something hit me. I was holding a real book. Paper. Cover. Weight. It felt unfamiliar, almost awkward.

Navigating a physical Bible is very different from tapping an app. No search bar. No “jump to verse.” Just pages and page numbers. My fingers had to work harder. My brain had to remember structure again.

I opened it and, for the first time in my life, wrote something inside my Bible. That also felt strange. I realised that I had never actually taken notes in a Bible before. Again, habit.

On Sunday morning, I thought, “Why not kill two birds with one stone?”

Same effort. Same time.

I invited my children to come over and sit with me. We opened the Bible together and read. We started from Psalms. I tried to explain the context to them in simple language.

I wanted them to build a habit.

To start the day with gratefulness.

To know that they can cry out to God.

To understand that self-awareness is not just a psychological word, but a spiritual gift.

We are different from animals because we are self aware. We can step out of our own situation and look at ourselves. The easiest way to step out is to see from God’s perspective.

Einstein once said that you cannot solve a problem with the same level of thinking that created it. To me, that is what spiritual health does. It raises your vantage point.

We finished that first devotion session. It felt simple, short, and powerful.

The 15-minute ritual that changed our mornings

Today, as I record this reflection, it is Thursday. We started this on Sunday.

We missed one day somewhere in between, but it is slowly turning into a habit.

Every morning, around 7.30 a.m., I go down, gather the children, and we do a quick 15 minutes together. Just 7.30 to 7.45 a.m.

Nothing fancy.

We invite the Holy Spirit to speak to us.

We choose a verse that “speaks to us.”

We read it.

We talk a bit.

I help them see how it connects to real life.

We do it with a physical Bible, not a phone.

There is no notification sliding down from the top. No temptation to swipe away “just one message.” Yes, the iPhone has “Do Not Disturb,” and for a while I thought that would be enough.

It is not.

The moment you see the device, your brain remembers there is a world inside it. That alone can distract you. With the physical Bible, there is nothing to “check.” You can only turn pages.

We built shared belief.

We built shared language.

We built shared time.

And all we did was go old school.

The first senior leadership team meeting, on paper

Back to this morning.

We had our very first senior leadership team meeting. The whole idea was to talk about the future of Stellar. With everything that is happening, this is not a small conversation.

For many years, we have been proud that we are fully cloud based. Google Docs, real time editing, multiple cursors dancing on the screen. I still remember when I first discovered Google for Education around 2015. Before it was called Google Workspace. The idea of cloud computing and real time collaboration amazed me.

Before that, we were saving Microsoft Word files onto thumb drives and passing them around. When I saw cloud editing, I thought, “This is it. This is the future. This saves so much trouble.”

Now here we are. Going backward.

We printed meeting minutes on paper. We used pens. We scribbled. We wrote notes by hand.

Irony.

The same person who used to mock others for printing out papers for meetings is now doing exactly that. I used to look at printed agendas and think, “So old school.” Now I find myself appreciating the simplicity.

Going old school became our way to protect focus.

The bank, the queue, and the friendship you cannot digitise

All of this reminded me of a story I once heard.

A young man wanted to help his grandfather “save time.” He said, “Let me teach you online banking. You do not need to walk to the bank, queue up, or fill in forms. Just tap. It is very convenient.”

The grandfather refused.

He said, “No, please. I enjoy going to the bank very much.”

Why?

Because on the walk to the bank, he gets to greet neighbours. When he stands in the queue, he meets old friends. They do not need to organise a special gathering. The bank line is their reunion.

Online banking would save him time, but remove human texture.

The young man thought in terms of efficiency. The grandfather thought in terms of life.

Walking to the bank is not just “going to the bank.” It is exercise. It is community. It is emotional health. It is purpose.

That story stayed with me for a long time.

We do the same with Zoom. During the pandemic, Zoom was a gift. It removed geographical barriers and time wasted in traffic. It allowed us to run operations in Johor Bahru and KL, even across borders.

But if we are not careful, we begin to worship convenience.

We forget that leadership meetings are not only about information transfer. They are also about presence, energy, subtle cues, and spiritual atmosphere.

I will still use Zoom for transactional meetings or when geography truly makes travel impossible. But for important relationships, I am willing to travel four hours up to KL and four hours back just to have one meaningful meal.

If the person is worth eight hours of driving, the relationship is worth building.

You cannot replace that with a video call.

The letter that suddenly became powerful again

There is one more area where going old school suddenly has meaning again.

Letters.

Before, everyone wrote letters. It was normal. Then SMS came. Then instant messaging, ICQ, QQ, WhatsApp. Everything became “instant.”

Now, in the age of AI, you do not even need to type your own letter. You can ask a machine to generate a perfectly structured, grammatically flawless message. The more polished it sounds, the less human it feels.

So what happens?

Suddenly a simple, imperfect letter becomes powerful again. Handwriting. Slight spelling mistakes. Non-perfect structure.

At first glance, you can tell, “This is written by a real person.” The very imperfections that used to be frowned upon become the proof of authenticity.

What an irony.

Going old school, once again, becomes a way to reclaim value we did not realise we had lost.

What We Really Lose When Life Gets Too Convenient

So what is really happening here?

Why does going old school suddenly feel like a breakthrough?

It is not about hating technology. I am not against advancement. Our school uses tech. I want us to be technologically advanced. There is no reverse gear on the timeline of history. We are not moving back to caves and farming in the mountains.

The issue is not advancement.

The issue is unexamined convenience.

The four hidden costs of convenience

When we blindly choose convenience every time, there are hidden costs.

1. Attention Our brain is not built to handle constant micro-distractions. Every notification, even if silenced, still “exists” in our mind. It steals parts of our attention. Paper does not ring.
2. Depth Instant access to everything removes the friction that forces us to think. When the answer is always one tap away, we stop grappling deeply. Going old school slows us down enough to discover what is under the surface.
3. Presence Zoom can transfer words, but not the same weight of presence. Physical meetings bring body language, shared meals, side conversations in the corridor. These shape trust.
4. Purpose When life becomes too convenient, we stop asking why. We choose what is easy, not what is meaningful. Going old school forces us to decide, not just drift.

The Old School Advantage Triangle

I noticed that every time I went old school, three advantages appeared again and again.

1. Clarity Printing the manuscript made the content clearer in my head. I could see structure and flow better.
2. Memory Writing in the Bible and on the manuscript helped me remember insights more strongly. Hand and brain were working together.
3. Connection Morning devotion with a physical Bible and physical presence created shared belief and shared language with my children.

Old school habits protect the very things leadership depends on: clarity, memory, connection.

Rethinking “future ready”

In education, the phrase “future ready” is very popular.

If you Google it, you will see phrases like “rapidly changing world,” “digital skills,” “innovative teaching methods,” “tech enabled classrooms,” and so on. All of that is useful. I do not deny it.

But here is the uncomfortable truth.

Our children are already ahead of us in digital skills.

Think about it. Do you really need to teach your child how to use a smartphone? Do you need to teach them how to open a browser, how to search for something, how to copy and paste into an AI tool? Usually, no. They “self learn” these things very quickly.

In fact, according to many modern psychologists, our children are underprotected in the virtual world. They have too much freedom online and too little guidance. That is another topic in itself.

If we define “future ready” only as “tech ready,” we are fighting the wrong battle.

At Stellar, we talk about three levels of readiness.

1. Growth Ready When a student takes ownership of their learning. They are not motivated only by parental pressure or external force. They want to grow.
2. Impact Ready When a student uses their strength to lift others, not mock them. When a child who is good at something turns around and helps someone weaker. Coaching begins here.
3. Future Ready When a student is rooted in purpose, identity, and values. When they can step into a world of tech, trends, and noise, yet still stay anchored in who they are and why they are here.

Future ready must start with purpose ready.

Tech is an instrument. It is not a compass.

Why going old school is a new way to be future ready

So where does going old school come in?

When we go old school, we are not escaping the future. We are strengthening the core that will allow us to stand inside it.

We are teaching our children:

To sit still without a device.

To stay present with one book.

To hear their own thoughts.

To ask deeper questions.

To connect with God, with themselves, and with people in the room.

Biologically, the part of the brain that handles long term planning and meaning making becomes fully mature around thirty. But we are not going to wait until thirty to start. Our job is to plant seeds now.

Seeds of purpose.

Seeds of self awareness.

Seeds of gratitude.

Seeds of reflection.

Old school tools are just carriers for these seeds.

One question, one answer

In all of this, I am reminded of one simple principle I want to keep in this reflection.

Better questions are often more powerful than better solutions.

So here is one question and one answer that has been running through my mind.

Question:

What am I unconsciously sacrificing in the name of convenience?

Answer:

Usually, it is the very things that matter most: attention, presence, depth, and purpose.

I keep this close because I want my children, my team, and myself to learn how to ask better questions. Once the question is right, the path often reveals itself.

How to Go Backward, So You Can Move Forward

So what do we do with all this?

Let me keep it simple and practical.

I am not suggesting that you throw away your phone, delete all your apps, and move into a hut in the mountains. That would be very dramatic, but not realistic, and not necessarily wise.

What I am suggesting is this:

Use tech for speed.

Use old school for meaning.

You do not need to overhaul your life overnight. Start with one area.

Step 1: Pick one area that matters

Choose one part of your life where clarity and connection really matter.

It could be:

Your morning with your children.

Your personal devotion or reflection.

Your deep work time for creative or strategic thinking.

Your core leadership meetings.

Do not start with everything. Start with one.

Step 2: Apply the Quiet Room Test

Ask yourself:

“If I remove all digital devices from this space, what happens?”

Then try it once.

Print the document.

Bring a notebook.

Switch off the phone, not just “silent.”

Close the laptop unless it is absolutely necessary.

Notice what happens inside your head and heart. Notice whether your thinking becomes slower but deeper. Notice whether you actually remember more.

If an idea cannot survive silence, it is probably noise.

Step 3: Set a small old school ritual

Decide on one small ritual where you will go old school consistently.

It could be:

Fifteen minutes of reading a physical book every morning.

Handwriting your top three priorities for the day.

Writing one letter by hand per month to someone who matters.

Printing and scribbling on key strategy documents.

Make it small enough that you can still do it on your worst day, not just your best day.

Repetition is the bridge between intention and transformation. Old school rituals become anchors that hold you steady when the sea of digital life becomes too loud.

Step 4: Reframe “future ready” for yourself and your team

Have an honest conversation with your team, your spouse, or your children.

Ask them:

“When we say future ready, what do we really mean?”

“Are we just talking about tech, or are we talking about purpose and character?”

Redefine future ready as purpose driven, not device driven. Let tech follow purpose, not lead it.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

The world will keep moving faster. New apps will appear. AI will become more capable. Processes will become smoother. All of that will keep happening whether we like it or not.

The real question is not, “How advanced can we become?”

The real question is, “What are we becoming as we advance?”

Here is the reverse that has been haunting me, in a good way:

We always thought progress meant adding more technology into our lives.

But very often, the real progress is found in the courage to add back the things technology quietly took away.

Silence.

Slowness.

Paper.

Presence.

Handwriting.

Walking to the bank instead of clicking “transfer.”

Sitting with a child and a physical Bible instead of scrolling an app alone.

The future will not be led by those who are the fastest to adopt every new tool.

The future will be led by those who know when to put the tools down.

So if you find yourself overwhelmed, scattered, and strangely empty in a life full of digital convenience, maybe the invitation is simple.

Go backward.

Pick up something old.

Touch paper again.

Look someone in the eye.

Ask a better question.

Then watch how, quietly and steadily, you begin to move forward in the ways that actually matter.