Removing is valuable

When we think of adding value, we often equate it with adding features, more content, or new things. Each addition feels like a symbol of progress. So people naturally gravitate towards creating and adding things. Adding a new feature, designing a new product, or launching a new satellite all feel like tangible wins. These actions bring visible impact and are easily supported.

A satellite, for instance, can revolutionize communication, navigation, and data transfer. Its addition to Earth’s orbit is a testament to innovation. However, this same creative drive often overlooks the by-products of addition. The rocket fragments left in orbit are also additions—unintended ones that contribute to space debris. Unlike the satellite, they don’t improve the system; instead, they create risks, complicating future endeavors and threatening what’s already in place.

To add is to make visible what exists in our minds, associating our existence with what we create. Whether it’s a track in a music library of billions, a cat photo among 4 billion taken daily, or another scientific paper in an ever-expanding sea of publications, each addition is an act of self-expression. Yet, in this relentless pursuit of adding, we often lose sight of the larger picture: what is the cost of our contribution to an ever-expanding whole?

The issue with addition lies in the asymmetry between creating and maintaining. It’s easier to add than to think about the lifecycle of what’s added. No one owns rocket debris in orbit, no one takes responsibility for removing it, yet it continues to accumulate, threatening the very systems we aim to improve.

For systems to remain sustainable, there are always mechanisms and people dedicated to clearing away the unnecessary. Clearing the unnecessary, preventing clutter, and addressing the by-products of addition are not glamorous tasks, but they are essential for sustainability.

The unsung heroes cleaning space debris, the curators maintaining digital libraries, the organizers decluttering physical spaces—they enable progress not by adding, but by making room for what matters. Their work ensures that systems don’t collapse under the weight of unchecked accumulation.

As much as we encourage addition, we must recognize the equal, if not greater, importance of removal. Whether in physical spaces, digital systems, or orbits, the act of clearing away lays the foundation for meaningful progress. Sometimes, the most valuable contribution is not what we add, but what we take away.