Reading time: 2 minutes

Long before the age of planned obsolescence and disposable culture, the Prophet ﷺ taught us the value of moderation and sustainability.

He once saw a man using excessive water for wudu and said, “Do not waste, even if you are at a running stream.”

Even in a place where water seems endless, the Prophet ﷺ reminded us to use only what we need.

This wasn’t just about water—it was a timeless principle: take only what sustains you, and leave the rest for others and the earth.

But today, we live in a world that thrives on excess. A world where waste is not just normalized—it’s engineered.

The Throwaway Culture: A Dystopia We Built

Our society is built on disposability.

Phones are designed to slow down after a year.

Furniture is made of flimsy materials that collapse.

Clothes are produced in bulk, worn a handful of times, and discarded.

This isn’t an accident.

Planned obsolescence is a system designed to keep us buying, consuming, and throwing away.

It’s not just bad for our wallets; it’s devastating for the planet.

But here’s the scary part: we’ve become numb to it. 

We’ve accepted this as normal.

We’ve forgotten that there was a time when things were built to last, when people owned less but cherished more when every item had a story and a purpose.

The Hidden Cost of Convenience

Where does our food come from?

Our clothes?

Our furniture?

Most of us don’t know. A piece of fruit might travel thousands of miles, burning fossil fuels, to reach your table.

The shirt you’re wearing might have been made in a factory where workers are underpaid and overworked.

We’ve become alienated from the things we own.

We don’t know their origins, impact, or true cost.

And in this disconnect, we’ve lost something essential: gratitude.

The Prophet ﷺ and his companions lived with so little that they often went to bed hungry.

They owned one or two pieces of clothing.

They buried their dead with so little cloth that it couldn’t cover their entire bodies.

Yet, they were content.

They understood that true wealth is not in possessions, but in purpose.

A Challenge: Reclaiming the Sunnah of Sustainability

What if we lived differently? What if, in 2025, we committed to buying only what could be grown or produced within our state?

What if we chose quality over quantity, sustainability over convenience, and connection over consumption?

This is a return to the Sunnah.

Scholars like Imam Ibn Taymiyyah were so mindful of their consumption that they had food sent from their family farms to ensure it was halal and ethically sourced.

They understood that every choice we make is an act of worship.

As Muslims, we have a responsibility to lead by example.

Show the world that happiness comes from being grateful for what we have.

To remind people that less is enough and enough is a blessing.

This is about justice.

It’s about ensuring that the resources of this earth are shared fairly, that workers are treated with dignity, and that future generations inherit a world that’s not drowning in waste.

Let us be the generation that says enough.

Enough to waste. Enough to excess. Enough to a system that values profit over people and the planet.

Because the Prophet � taught us better, we owe it to ourselves, our children, and our Creator to do better.