Human history is often remembered through wars, revolutions, and the rise and fall of civilizations. Yet one of the most profound transformations in history is rarely felt on a daily basis: the dramatic change in how humans live and think. Compared to people who lived hundreds of years ago, modern humans enjoy a level of comfort that would have been unimaginable even to kings and nobles of the past. Despite this, many people today feel dissatisfied, anxious, and overwhelmed. This contrast raises an important question: has the human mind failed to adapt to the comfort it now inhabits? If we examine daily life objectively, it becomes clear that modern humans live extraordinarily well. Most people have shelter that protects them from rain, heat, and cold. Food is accessible with minimal physical effort. Clean water, artificial lighting, and comfortable beds are common rather than rare privileges. Diseases that once killed millions can now be treated or prevented. In terms of material conditions, the average person today lives better than royalty did centuries ago. In the past, comfort was exclusive. Only a small group of nobles and kings could enjoy safety, stable food supplies, and physical rest. The majority of humanity lived with constant uncertainty. Hunger, illness, and violence were not exceptional events but normal parts of life. Survival itself required continuous effort. From this perspective, the modern world appears almost miraculous. Yet gratitude for this reality is surprisingly scarce. One reason for this lack of gratitude lies in how the human mind works. Humans adapt quickly to new conditions. Comfort, once obtained, becomes invisible. What was once a luxury becomes an expectation. A roof over one’s head no longer feels like a blessing but a baseline requirement. When expectations rise faster than awareness, satisfaction declines, even if objective conditions improve. This psychological adaptation creates a paradox. The more comfortable life becomes, the more sensitive people become to discomfort. Minor inconveniences feel intolerable, and small failures feel catastrophic. The human mind evaluates suffering relatively, not absolutely. Pain is not measured against history but against personal expectation. As a result, modern discomfort can feel just as heavy as historical suffering, even if the causes are drastically different. This leads to the controversial idea that the world may be unfair in appearance but balanced in experience. People face different problems at different times in their lives. Some struggle financially, others emotionally. Some face loss early, others later. The forms of suffering differ, but subjectively, each person experiences their own difficulties as deeply painful. This is not because all problems are equal in reality, but because the human capacity to endure and interpret suffering is limited and individualized. Each person is shaped by unique experiences, environments, and psychological resilience. A problem that one person handles calmly may completely overwhelm another. This does not mean one person is weaker in a moral sense, but that their internal thresholds are different. Just as physical pain tolerance varies among individuals, emotional and mental tolerance also varies widely. Therefore, suffering cannot be ranked objectively across individuals without losing its personal meaning. From this perspective, fairness becomes difficult to define. If fairness means equal outcomes, the world is clearly unfair. If fairness means equal opportunities, the world is still deeply unequal. But if fairness is understood as the total subjective weight of difficulty across a lifetime, the question becomes more complex. It is possible that life distributes challenges unevenly in form and timing, but not necessarily in total psychological burden. Another important aspect is timing. Problems do not arrive evenly spaced along the timeline of a life. Some people face intense hardship early and relative peace later. Others enjoy stability for decades before facing loss or decline. This uneven distribution often creates the illusion that some lives are easier than others. Yet when viewed as a complete narrative rather than a single moment, lives may be more comparable than they appear. This idea has been explored, implicitly or explicitly, by many thinkers throughout history. Ancient philosophies emphasized acceptance and internal control over external conditions. They argued that suffering arises not only from events but from judgments about those events. Modern psychology echoes this insight, showing that long-term happiness is surprisingly stable despite dramatic changes in life circumstances. However, acknowledging this does not mean denying real injustice. Structural inequality, poverty, and violence cause real harm that cannot be dismissed as merely subjective. The point is not that all suffering is equal, but that human perception compresses vastly different realities into similarly intense internal experiences. Understanding this distinction is crucial to avoid both moral indifference and excessive resentment. Perhaps the deeper issue is not whether the world is fair, but whether humans are mentally equipped to recognize how fortunate they are. Comfort has increased faster than wisdom. Technology has outpaced reflection. Humans now possess extraordinary power over their environment, but still carry minds shaped by scarcity, fear, and comparison. This mismatch may explain why dissatisfaction persists in an age of abundance. Gratitude, then, is not a natural consequence of comfort. It is a deliberate practice of awareness. Without conscious reflection, even paradise becomes ordinary. The challenge of the modern era is not survival, but perspective. Learning to recognize the quiet victories of everyday life may be more difficult than enduring visible hardship. In the end, the question of fairness may never have a definitive answer. What can be said is that every life carries weight, struggle, and limitation, even if the forms differ. The modern human lives like a king in material terms, yet often thinks like a starving ancestor, always anticipating loss. Bridging this gap between reality and perception may be one of the most important tasks of our time.