What defines one’s worth? How do we measure or prove our own value, to others or even to ourselves?

Often, we equate worth with achievements, status, or tangible items. A high-paying job, an authoritative title, or a respected position in community signifies greater individual worth. It’s simple to explain: consider a situation where a terminally ill child requires immediate hospital care to survive, but at the same moment the president - also terminally ill - arrives at the same location. Who should the doctor prioritize? The answer is uncomfortable, but often clear.

In scenarios like this, we often assume that some lives carry more worth than others. The president’s broader influence might make them seem more valuable to society, while a child’s limitless potential suggests a different kind of worth. Both perspectives are valid. So, how do we decide who or what has more worth? Is worthiness the scope of one’s impact, their utility, or something more intangible?

Utility often dictates value. Things we need - like water - are valuable because they are essential. In affluent regions, water is abundant and taken for granted. In impoverished locations, water’s scarcity makes it priceless. Similarly, our definition of worth might be tied to how “useful” we are perceived to be: to our families, communities, or workplaces. A highly skilled professional’s absence could result in millions of dollars in losses, while the passing of a loved one would bring personal grief despite lack of accolades. Worth is, ultimately, in the eye of the beholder.

Is there a way then to cultivate lasting worth that transcends utility? The answer is connection. The worth of anything, whether a resource, a person, or an idea, often hinges on the relationships it fosters. Water has value because of its connection to life. People are cherished because of their ties to others. The same logic applies to influence: those who are beloved in their communities are often remembered as great - not because of their wealth or titles - but because of the connections they nurtured.

Consider the earlier example of the president and the child. The president might seem more worthy because their connections extend to an entire nation. The child, though, has the potential to form countless connections through a life yet to be lived. Both forms of worth are rooted in relationships: one built, the other untapped.

Then, to increase our own worth, we must create and foster connection. It isn’t about accolades or achievements, but about the ties that link us to others. In the end, our connections not only determine our worth, but also how we understand our place in the world.