Cogito, Ergo Sum: Modern Mind with Traditional Soul

Prof. Asep Saepudin Jahar, M.A., Ph.D.
Rector of Syarif Hidayatullah State Islamic University Jakarta

In October, the world observes World Mental Health Day, which is marked by the World Health Organization (WHO) under the theme “Mental Health is a Universal Human Right.”

Though seemingly simple, the theme resonates deeply with today’s digital generation, where our society grows louder, faster, and increasingly exhausted.

According to the World Mental Health Report 2023, WHO recorded a 25 percent rise in global cases of anxiety and depression over the past two years. Paradoxically, this surge has occurred amid unprecedented technological progress and lifestyle convenience. Humanity is more connected than ever, yet, as German philosopher Byung-Chul Han observes, also “more lonely than ever.”

This phenomenon cuts across all walks of life. Starting with students who are trapped in the pressures of social comparison and young professionals battling burnout from hyperproductivity, even public officials are weighed down by the image economy. Mental health, therefore, is no longer a private issue; it has become a matter of social ethics, public policy, and the moral conscience of civilization.

Social Fatigue and Identity Crisis

Over a century ago, sociologist Émile Durkheim described anomie in his seminal work Suicide (1897). It is a condition where individuals lose moral direction amid rapid social change. “Modern man,” he wrote, “dies not from physical hunger, but from hunger for meaning.”

Today, that anomie has transformed into digital fatigue. We are constantly connected, yet rarely encounter one another in truth. We smile through emojis but cry in silence. We look at screens, not faces. We measure ourselves by likes, not by values.

MIT social psychologist Sherry Turkle calls this the "flight from conversation"—a retreat from genuine dialogue into simulated presence. In this state, humanity loses the space for stillness, a spiritual silence once essential for reflection and self-awareness.

In Islamic tradition, such heedlessness is known as ghaflah: a spiritual negligence that distances the heart from the Divine. As Imam Al-Ghazali wrote in Ihya’ Ulum al-Din, ghaflah is “a disease of the soul that busies one with the many, while neglecting the One.”

Modernity has promised convenience yet brought alienation, separating humankind from meaning, from community, and ultimately from itself. “Everything is measured, yet little is understood.” In this light, the true mental health crisis is a crisis of spirituality, marked by a loss of direction, purpose, and peace.

Spirituality as Social Therapy

Modern science increasingly acknowledges spirituality as integral to human well-being. A study published in The Lancet Psychiatry (2022) found that a strong sense of purpose and healthy faith correlate with recovery from depression and anxiety. Similarly, Harvard’s Human Flourishing Program (2021) reported that engagement in religious and social life increases longevity and reduces suicide risk.

Yet spirituality here is not mere ritual. Social spirituality is the realization that human beings are connected through values that transcend self-interest. Thus, it becomes a healing of relationships between humans and God, between individuals, and with nature.

In Islamic thought, this is embodied in tazkiyatun nafs, the purification of the soul from envy, fear, anger, and greed. For Al-Ghazali, the health of the soul determines the health of society. A pure heart nurtures justice, empathy, and peace.

As Seyyed Hossein Nasr wrote in Man and Nature, modern humanity must “rediscover the sacred in the everyday.” Spirituality does not reject technology or progress; it humanizes them. Every innovation must dignify life, not accelerate human exhaustion.

True spirituality brings presence into the world, not escape from it. It restores our sense of belonging, the awareness that we are part of something greater than ourselves.

A Greater Supportive Landscape

In universities, one often encounters two faces of the modern student: intellectually bright, yet emotionally fragile. They argue brilliantly, yet struggle to rest their minds.

A university should not merely be a factory of degrees but a laboratory of humanity where students' intellect is sharpened, hearts are nurtured, and empathy is practiced.

We must restore the academic quiet space: a culture of reading without haste, dialoguing without judgment, and reflecting without fear of being forgotten by the algorithm.

As Ronald Purser warned in McMindfulness: How Mindfulness Became the New Capitalist Spirituality (2019), digital-age spirituality is often reduced to a productivity tool. Meditation becomes a means of efficiency, not moral renewal. The same danger lurks in education: when mental health is treated merely as a stress management issue, not a moral crisis of humanity.

The state also bears a crucial role. Mental health is a human right, as affirmed by WHO and enshrined in the Universal Health Coverage Agenda 2030. Yet public policies often address the symptoms—medical care and medication—while ignoring the root causes: economic inequality, social isolation, and digital alienation.

We need integrative policies for those in need to heal the spiritual and cultural foundations of society. We need policies that promote value-based communities, character education, digital gotong royong, and other forms of collective care in online spaces, just as we do in real life.

Universities must lead by example, ensuring every student has access to counseling, creative outlets, and a learning atmosphere that nourishes inner peace. Education should enlighten, not exhaust.

The DNA of the Society

Mental health reflects not only individual wellness but also the moral state of a nation.

When society grows filled with anger and hostility on social media, when public discourse becomes toxic, it signals a collective emotional fatigue.

Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman in Liquid Modernity (2000) described modern life as fluid, fast-moving, unstable, and fragile. In such a world, solidarity fades, trust erodes, and loneliness becomes the new epidemic.

Indonesia, with its deep spiritual and communal traditions, possesses moral resources to resist this tide: ukhuwah (brotherhood), gotong royong (mutual cooperation), and tenggang rasa (empathy). These values must now be revitalized in the digital age—to build spaces of calm rather than chaos, dialogue instead of division.

We must cultivate digital spirituality and awareness that technology is a tool, not a deity. Speed must not erase stillness; connectivity must not replace closeness.

As economist Amartya Sen reminds us in Development as Freedom (1999), true development is not the rise of income but the expansion of human freedom—the ability to live meaningfully and fully.

Take a Break and Let Your Thoughts Wander

Perhaps this nation does not lack progress, but silence. We have a large space to sit but little time to pause. We speak much but never listen. We chase greatness yet forget wellness.

Mental health and spiritual well-being are two sides of the same coin, where both must be nurtured with values, not just pills. The state must humanize its policies; universities must humanize their learning; families must humanize their love.

In tasawwuf, there is sukun, which is a living silence. Silence not of defeat, but of awareness. In that stillness, one rediscovers meaning.

To be healthy is not to live without depression, but to find reasons to hope. In a world that moves ever faster, perhaps the nation’s renewal begins with the courage to slow down.

As French philosopher Blaise Pascal once wrote, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”

On this World Mental Health Day, let us take a moment to sit, to breathe, and to listen to our weary souls. For a strong nation begins with tranquil hearts, and a peaceful soul is the mark of a civilized society.

This article was originally published in Disway on Wednesday (10/10/2025).