The First Stone...
There are moments in life when you begin to notice something that once escaped your attention. It doesn't happen overnight. It happens quietly, almost unnoticed, until one day you realise the world around you has changed—or perhaps it is your understanding of it that has changed.
As I've grown older, I have found myself paying less attention to people's achievements and far more attention to their character. Titles no longer impress me the way they once did. Neither do popularity, wealth, or influence. Instead, I find myself watching something much simpler. I listen to how people speak about someone who isn't present. I notice how they treat the waiter in a restaurant, the cleaner in an office, the stranger who can offer them nothing in return. More often than not, that tells me everything I need to know about a person.
We live in extraordinary times. Never before have we possessed the ability to communicate with millions of people in a matter of seconds. Our voices travel further than any previous generation could have imagined. Yet despite all this progress, one quality appears to be fading into the background—basic human respect.
Every day another person becomes the target of ridicule. A mistake becomes entertainment. A rumour becomes accepted as truth. Social media has given each of us a platform, but it has also handed us something far more dangerous: the illusion that having a voice means we must use it on every occasion. Somewhere along the way, many of us stopped asking whether our words would help another person and started asking only whether they would attract attention.
Perhaps that is why one sentence spoken more than two thousand years ago continues to feel astonishingly relevant today.
"Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone."
Whether you approach those words through faith or simply through their timeless wisdom, their message reaches beyond religion. It asks every one of us to pause before we become another person's judge. It reminds us that every human being carries failures, regrets, weaknesses, and chapters of their life they would rather keep hidden. None of us arrives in this world morally flawless, yet we often speak as though we do.
One of the saddest changes I have witnessed is how easily respect disappears when someone is absent. I have listened to conversations where women are reduced to cruel stereotypes and where men are mocked simply for showing vulnerability. Even more disappointing is when those words come from people we once admired. As children, we often believe the adults around us possess a wisdom we aspire to. Growing older sometimes means discovering that admiration and integrity are not always the same thing.
It is a difficult lesson to accept.
I have come to believe that words are among the most powerful tools ever placed in human hands. They have the ability to encourage a frightened child, comfort a grieving parent, rebuild someone's confidence, or inspire an entire generation. Yet those very same words can humiliate, isolate, and wound in ways no physical injury ever could. Broken bones eventually heal. Some sentences remain with us for decades.
That is why I believe respect should never depend upon agreement. We are free to disagree with another person's opinions, choices, or beliefs without stripping away their dignity. A society does not become stronger because everyone thinks alike. It becomes stronger because people learn to disagree without forgetting each other's humanity.
The older I become, the more convinced I am that children are watching us far more closely than we realise. They learn kindness by witnessing kindness. They learn cruelty in exactly the same way. Every sarcastic remark, every degrading joke, every hateful comment spoken casually in front of them becomes another lesson about how adults believe people should be treated. If we wish for a more compassionate generation tomorrow, we must begin by becoming more compassionate ourselves today.
Perhaps this is also why, after writing fourteen books across different genres, I found myself taking a path I never expected. One day, quite unexpectedly, I began creating children's colouring books. It wasn't part of a carefully prepared business plan. There was no grand strategy behind it. The idea simply arrived, quietly and unexpectedly. As I looked around the world and saw children growing up under vastly different circumstances, I realised that not every child has the same opportunities to learn, imagine, and create. Some grow up surrounded by books, while others have very little at all.
I know a colouring book will not solve the world's problems. But perhaps it doesn't have to. Sometimes changing one afternoon, bringing one smile, or encouraging one child's imagination is enough to remind us that small acts of kindness still matter. And who knows where that unexpected journey may lead? Perhaps one day there will be opportunities to work alongside schools, charities, publishers, or organisations that believe every child deserves access to creativity, learning, and hope. Every meaningful journey begins with a single step, even if we cannot yet see where the road ends.
When I look at the world today, I don't believe we suffer from a shortage of intelligence. We suffer from a shortage of empathy. We have become experts at winning arguments while forgetting how to win hearts. We have learned to expose one another's faults while becoming remarkably skilled at hiding our own.
Maybe it is time we returned to a simpler question before speaking, posting, or passing judgment.
Am I about to throw another stone?
Or am I about to extend a hand?
The answer to that question may reveal more about our own character than it ever will about the person standing before us.
— Jacob Mascarenhas
Author • Podcaster • Storyteller
