When Alexander Fleming noticed mold killing bacteria in a petri dish in 1928, the discovery was hailed as nothing less than a miracle. Antibiotics transformed medicine: wounds that once guaranteed death healed, infections that crippled children disappeared. By mid-century, antibiotics symbolized modernity itself, a covenant between science and survival.
Yet from the very beginning, scientists warned that overuse would trigger resistance. Bacteria evolve quickly; every unnecessary prescription was an invitation for them to adapt. Doctors prescribed antibiotics for viral infections, farmers laced animal feed with them to accelerate growth, and pharmaceutical companies treated caution as a nuisance. The result is the looming crisis of "superbugs" that render once-reliable treatments useless.
The tragedy is not that resistance was unforeseeable — it was spelled out by the discoverers themselves. The tragedy is that no one wanted to listen. Short-term gains (profits, patient satisfaction, agricultural efficiency) consistently outweighed long-term prudence.
About the author
Robert Woodland-Ferrari
Businessman, entrepreneur and lifelong observer of decisions that seemed like a good idea at the time.
