Prof. Dr. Princess Anabel von Preußen-Ternès von Hattburg

Humanity

I have spent much of my life exploring the future: how people think, how societies change, how technology transforms our possibilities, and how we can build businesses and institutions that contribute to a better world.

I remember a little girl I met through my work as a Wish Ambassador for Make-A-Wish. She was sitting in the corner of a sofa, so small that the cushions seemed to swallow her. Her eyes were empty. She was silent. There was no spark of anticipation, no visible trace of hope. Beside her, her family sat just as quietly, carrying the same heaviness in their faces. It was as if the room had forgotten how to laugh. I looked at them and, almost instinctively, started telling a terrible joke. For a moment, they simply stared at me.

Within seconds, laughter filled the room. Not because anything had changed about their situation, but because, for one brief moment, something else had become possible. I moved towards the little girl and wrapped my arms around her. And as I held her, I felt her tears running down my face. Tears of tenderness. Tears of relief. Tears of a happiness that was almost impossible to explain.

For a moment, we were no longer defined by what was difficult, frightening or uncertain. We were simply human beings, sharing a moment of warmth. I have never forgotten that moment.

It taught me something I return to again and again: humanity begins with the small little things, a terrible joke, a moment of courage, or the decision to reach out when silence seems easier.

We cannot always change another person’s circumstances. We cannot promise that everything will be all right.

But we can choose not to look away. We can choose to bring warmth into a room that has grown cold. We can choose to make another human being feel seen. And sometimes, that small choice opens a door through which hope can enter.

Humanity is not defined by how much we can change the world in a single moment, but by whether we recognise the moments in which we can change someone’s world.

As a psychologist and human advocate, I am interested in the invisible forces that shape our lives: the beliefs we inherit, the fears that influence our decisions, the relationships that give us courage, and the stories we tell ourselves about what is possible. Working together with traumatized women because of war, let me understand, that it’s often not about doing, but pausing, listening and giving the other person room.

As a futurist and entrepreneur, I see how quickly our world is changing. Artificial intelligence can generate ideas, analyse information and transform entire industries. Scientific advances are opening new possibilities for health and longevity. We can connect across continents in seconds.

But progress is not simply the expansion of what we can do. It is the development of our judgement about what is worth doing.

The interruption

My understanding of this became profoundly personal after a severe accident left me fighting for my life. I spent approximately two years in intensive care and later lived for years in a wheelchair.

The future I had imagined could no longer be taken for granted. The habits, ambitions and assumptions that had shaped my life were suddenly insufficient. I had to confront a question that achievement rarely encourages us to ask: Who are we when we can no longer define ourselves by what we accomplish?

Recovery taught me that human strength is not synonymous with invulnerability and beginning again as before. It’s more about stepping into the unknown, widening the perspective and accepting help.

This experience changed my understanding of leadership, health and time. It made me more attentive to the people whose struggles remain invisible behind the expectations placed upon them. It also reinforced my conviction that human dignity must never depend on productivity, physical ability or professional success.

The responsibility of the future

I was 7, standing at the beach of Norddeich-Mole, starting a cleanup initiative with the support of Greenpeace. Today, I am the UN ambassador for the World Cleanup Day. Today, one of the most important questions facing humanity is how we will use the extraordinary capabilities we are creating.

Artificial intelligence can help us make better decisions, but it cannot relieve us of the responsibility for those decisions. Innovation can create prosperity, but prosperity alone does not guarantee justice. Medical progress can extend life, but longevity becomes meaningful when it is accompanied by health, connection, purpose and the freedom to participate in society.

This is particularly visible in women’s health. When research overlooks women’s experiences, when symptoms are misunderstood or when evidence is missing, the consequences reach far beyond medicine. They shape people’s opportunities, their families, their working lives and their trust in institutions.

I believe the future requires us to ask not only what is technically possible, but whose lives will improve, whose experiences remain unseen and who will be accountable for the consequences.

We should build technologies that strengthen human agency, organisations that respect the people who sustain them, and societies in which responsibility grows alongside opportunity.

The future is not something that simply arrives. It is shaped by millions of decisions, many of them made long before their consequences become visible.

What we leave behind

Through my family history, I have come to realize how closely our individual lives are bound to the broader tapestry of history. As the grandniece of the Archbishop of Bucharest and Prelate of Honour of His Holiness, who spent 13 years being tortured in prison for aiding the suffering during the Second World War, only to return deeply grateful for every breath, I truly learned what humanity means.

My own professional journey has taught me that heritage can offer a sense of continuity, but it cannot determine the contribution we make. That remains a matter of choice.

I want us to leave behind more than impressive institutions and sophisticated technologies. I want us to leave behind a culture in which curiosity is stronger than prejudice, responsibility is stronger than indifference, and the dignity of another person is never treated as negotiable.

We cannot control every circumstance future generations will inherit. We can influence the principles, systems and possibilities available to them.

For me, that is the deeper meaning of legacy. It is not about ensuring that our names are remembered. It is about contributing to a future in which people we will never meet have greater freedom to live meaningful lives.

If there is one thought I would leave behind, it is this:

Let us be remembered not only for what we achieved, but for what became possible for others because we were here.

The future of humanity will be determined by more than the intelligence of the systems we create. It will also depend on the wisdom, compassion and responsibility with which we choose to use them.

That is the future worth building.

Anabel