Build Bridges, Not Boxes
Written for Indigenous Philosophies for the Technological Age (DPI 210), a course at the Harvard Kennedy School taught by Professor Mathias Risse.

In a world driven by technology, we, as young tech founders, pride ourselves on disruption and innovation. Yet this age of rapid progress is also erasing the diversity of ways humans relate to the planet, time, and each other. Indigenous philosophies taught me to question the systems we assume are universal — linear histories, endless growth, individualism — and to see the creative potential in alternative worldviews. These perspectives hold invaluable insights for a world at risk of ecological collapse and cultural homogenization. The tools we create must reflect the richness of human wisdom and enable underrepresented communities to lead their own visions of progress.
In this essay, I explore three themes that have reshaped my thinking as a builder of tomorrow's tools. First, how Indigenous philosophies expand our mental frameworks, offering radical ways of thinking that foster creativity and innovation. Second, how technology, when intentionally designed, can serve as a bridge that empowers diverse communities to shape their own futures, rather than homogenizing human experience. Finally, how Indigenous teachings of reciprocity, balance, and shared purpose can help humanity navigate the challenges of a post-labor age: an era defined by abundance but starved for meaning.
Expanding Our Mental Frameworks
Our ideas are influenced by the information we consume, which can lead us — western-educated, startup-obsessed, young entrepreneurs — to converge toward similar approaches, solutions, and interfaces. This mindset, so ingrained in Western scientific and economic frameworks, can trap us in unimaginative, extractive cycles optimized to scale rapidly. But what if there were other ways to think, create, and innovate? Exposure to Indigenous philosophies reveals alternative perspectives that challenge these dominant assumptions. These diverse worldviews offer a broader, deeper well of inspiration that can fundamentally reshape how we approach building companies and solving problems.
Steve Jobs once credited his creative genius to "connecting the dots" between seemingly unrelated ideas, many of which came from his exposure to Eastern philosophies while traveling in India. Entrepreneurs who embrace Indigenous knowledge systems gain similar opportunities to think differently, to see relationships where others do not, and to build systems that are sustainable, creative, and life-giving. Indigenous philosophies prioritize relationality over reductionism, cycles over linear progress, and place over abstraction. As founders, understanding this kind of thinking doesn't just make us better dinner party guests; it makes us better builders and stewards of the future.
Vine Deloria Jr.'s reflections on relatedness provide insight for entrepreneurs navigating the challenges of building something new. He writes, "The idea of a relatedness of all things is not new … Taking these diverse bits of understanding and working them into the Western scientific format will be a little difficult at first, but eventually the student will discover that he or she is the possessor of a knowledge much broader, deeper, and more comprehensive" (Deloria 39). This philosophy mirrors the entrepreneurial journey itself, where the most successful builders thrive not by rigidly following conventional paths, but by pulling from diverse, even unexpected, sources of knowledge. Indigenous thought teaches that everything is interconnected, and for founders this is not only a powerful lesson but a competitive advantage: broadening the range of ideas we engage with allows us to see solutions and opportunities where others do not. Whether it's rethinking how digital products relate to place or building systems inspired by nature, exposure to Indigenous ways of thinking can spark creative breakthroughs and help entrepreneurs design businesses that align profit with purpose.
Gregory Cajete builds on this principle by challenging the linear mindset of Western science, suggesting that knowledge creation is often "a rather meandering path around things and over obstacles" (Cajete 81). Indigenous science teaches that the value lies not just in the end product, but in the process: the journey of "coming to know." For entrepreneurs, this is a departure from the obsession with immediate growth and efficiency. Instead, it encourages us to embrace iteration, reflection, and long-term company health. An organization embodying this mindset is designed to be regenerative, adaptable, and impactful.
When we expose ourselves to Indigenous philosophies, we begin to think in ways others cannot. The greatest entrepreneurs borrow from everywhere. They expand their mental frameworks, incorporating diverse perspectives that unlock creativity and innovation. Our world doesn't need more systems built on the same linear, extractive thinking that created the problems we face today. It needs founders willing to reimagine progress itself — leaders who recognize that solutions can come from unexpected places, and that Indigenous thought offers a wellspring of inspiration for building technologies that serve humanity.
Technology as a Bridge
Technology has always been a tool for shaping the future, but it inevitably reflects the biases of its creators. As young founders, we have an unprecedented opportunity to challenge this trajectory. The tools we design can either entrench a singular worldview or serve as bridges that empower diverse ways of living, thinking, and innovating. With generative AI, the internet, and financially accessible devices, the cost of knowledge has decreased exponentially. But this raises a crucial question: whose knowledge are we sharing, and who gets to access it?
John Fire Lame Deer's critique of Western frameworks illustrates the need for rethinking how we design these tools. He writes, "To our way of thinking the Indians' symbol is the circle, the hoop. Nature wants things to be round … The moon, the horizon, the rainbow — circles within circles within circles, with no beginning and no end" (Lame Deer 112). In contrast, he describes the white man's square as a symbol of walls and divisions: "Square is his house, his office buildings with walls that separate people … You become a prisoner inside all these boxes" (Lame Deer 113). Lame Deer's reflections challenge the rigidity and separateness of conventional systems. For tech founders, this is a call to build technologies that reflect the interconnectedness of all things: technologies that enable diverse communities to innovate on their own terms instead of forcing all of future humanity into boxes defined by a singular, Western mindset.
Why should an Indigenous student or founder interact with an AI system trained solely through the lens of Western ideologies? Robin Wall Kimmerer, in Braiding Sweetgrass, illustrates the value of relational systems: "The trees act not as individuals, but somehow as a collective … Through unity, survival. All flourishing is mutual" (Kimmerer 15). Nature does not thrive through isolation; it thrives through relationships and reciprocity. By applying this principle to technology, we can design platforms and tools that function as mutual enablers: expanding possibilities for Indigenous and underrepresented communities without erasing their distinct ways of knowing.
The opportunity here is massive. Technology, when built intentionally, can scale information access without homogenizing the human experience. It can amplify local voices, preserve traditional ecological knowledge, and support alternative economic models that prioritize sustainability over extraction. AI, in particular, can empower diverse innovation by lowering barriers to personalized, high-quality cognitive capability. A computer and an internet connection are now enough to unlock human potential. When we center diversity and relational thinking, we don't just enable others to shape their own futures; we create systems that are inherently more resilient, adaptable, and creative.
The world benefits when innovation reflects its full range of perspectives. We, as builders of tomorrow's tools, must recognize the power we hold: to design technologies that bridge cultures, share knowledge, and celebrate the richness of humanity's collective wisdom. The future will not be shaped by the tools alone but by the philosophies we embed within them. Let us ensure that those philosophies are as diverse, connected, and life-giving as the world we seek to build.
Living Well in a Post-Labor Age
The promise of technology is abundance: AI and automation are rapidly reducing the need for labor, lowering the barriers to material wealth, and unlocking capabilities unimaginable even a decade ago. But what happens when the systems we build liberate us from work? What then? In a post-labor world, humanity will face a profound challenge: finding purpose, meaning, and community in a life no longer defined by productivity. Indigenous philosophies offer timeless, powerful frameworks for guiding us through this transition.
The Sámi concepts of láhi and attáldat, described by Rauna Kuokkanen, provide a blueprint for living well in an age of abundance. She writes, "Láhi teaches us about the need to recognise the gifts of the land and reciprocate rather than take the abundance for granted and exploit it for profit, while attáldat teaches us to share our skills for the benefit of our communities" (Kuokkanen 28). These principles reject the mindset of unchecked extraction, offering an alternative vision of wealth rooted in reciprocity, shared responsibility, and mutual care. For founders, this philosophy is instructive: technologies of the future must be designed to incentivize sharing, not hoarding; to celebrate abundance as a collective gift, not an individual entitlement. Imagine platforms that incentivize shared prosperity rather than zero-sum competition, or systems designed to distribute resources in ways that strengthen communities.
Similarly, the Buddhist worldview of the Indigenous Tibetan community offers guidance on how to live meaningfully in a world no longer driven by material scarcity. The Dalai Lama teaches that "spiritual practice brings both happiness in the long-term and more inner strength day by day" (Dalai Lama 3). At the root of all Buddhist teaching is compassion: a perspective that prioritizes harmony, mindfulness, and inner fulfillment over external achievement. These lessons are essential for a society no longer tethered to labor. If technologies increasingly free us from work, we must ensure they also free us to live happily — with ourselves, with each other, and with the natural world. Tools that encourage mindfulness, foster collective well-being, and reduce isolation should become central to shaping a balanced and purposeful life.
The problem we face is not abundance itself, but how we navigate it. Without intentional design, we risk a future of existential drift, where people struggle to find meaning, connection, and identity in a life no longer centered on labor. Indigenous philosophies challenge us to rethink what progress looks like in this context. We are not just building systems. We are shaping cultures and future generations' ways of being. The tools of abundance can liberate humanity, but they must be grounded in philosophies that guide us toward meaning. Indigenous teachings remind us that life thrives through reciprocity, compassion, and community.
Building With Intention
I've come to see that Indigenous philosophies hold invaluable lessons for rethinking progress, emphasizing relationality, reciprocity, and balance over extraction and endless growth. From the Sámi concepts of láhi and attáldat, which stress sharing gifts for the benefit of the community, to the Buddhist call for compassion and mindfulness, these perspectives challenge us to design systems that empower, connect, and regenerate rather than divide and exploit.
For tech founders, these are not abstract ideas but actionable frameworks for building a better future. Creativity and sustainability emerge when we draw from diverse ways of knowing, when we build technologies that amplify local wisdom, strengthen communities, and enrich humanity's relationship with the natural world. Robin Wall Kimmerer's reminder that "all flourishing is mutual" urges us to create tools that do not thrive at the expense of others but instead foster shared growth and balance.
At the same time, as AI and automation liberate us from a labor-driven existence, Indigenous teachings offer guidance for finding meaning and purpose in a world of abundance. Progress must not be measured by output alone but by how it enables us to live well with each other, with the planet, and with ourselves.
The future will be shaped by the philosophies we choose to carry forward. If we embrace interconnected, inclusive, and sustainable ways of thinking, we can create technologies that serve not just economic growth but human flourishing. To ignore these lessons would be to miss a profound opportunity.
I ask my fellow young founders: please, for the benefit of all sentient beings, may we build with pure intentions.
Works Cited
- Cajete, Gregory. Native Science: Natural Laws of Interdependence. 2016.
- Deloria Jr., Vine. "Relativity, Relatedness, and Reality." Spirit and Reason: The Vine Deloria, Jr. Reader, edited by Kristen Foehner and Sam Scinta, 1999.
- John Fire Lame Deer. Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions. 1972.
- Kimmerer, Robin Wall. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. 2015.
- Kuokkanen, Rauna. "Láhi and Attáldat: The Philosophy of the Gift and Sami Education." Australian Journal of Indigenous Education, vol. 34, 2005.
- The Dalai Lama. "The Buddhist Worldview." The Meaning of Life from a Buddhist Perspective, 1992.