In a country that celebrates merit but ignores the conditions that make it possible, thousands of genuinely talented young people run into a silent obstacle: the environment that should propel them, but often holds them back, confuses them, or fills them with fear.
This is an analysis of that invisible factor that decides more fates than chance.
There is vocation. In a country where budget cuts in mental health have left thousands without adequate care, and where anxiety multiplies in networks that compare, judge, and erode self-esteem, expecting clear career paths is to misunderstand the real climate in which our young people are trying to grow.
However, paths do exist. The challenge is for the country, families, and institutions to stop tying them to the ground.
There is something silent, almost invisible, that decides more fates than talent, education, or luck: the environment. It always arrives when a corner of the world appears, willing to support the first run towards the runway. And that corner, though it may seem small, can be the difference between a life that takes off… and one that never manages to.
When that ground fails, even the best fail to take flight.
There is capacity. It is about no longer being afraid of ideas we do not understand. At 22, this young Argentine turned a home 3D printer into accessible prosthetics for hundreds of people who could not afford them. How many exceptionally talented lives have seen their potential frustrated by a lack of an environment that supports them, understands them, or at least does not sabotage them?
The example is clear. It is to let their searches define their destiny, and not our own insecurities. What is often missing is an ecosystem that accompanies and does not suspect every step outside the mold.
Platforms, networks, spaces, and tools exist to leap over an environment that is not always ready to understand them. The challenge is not to convince young people that they can already fly. Not because they lack ability, but because they lack a climate where that ability can breathe.
It means looking the truth in the face: the environment does not determine, but it conditions; it does not define you, but it can hold you back; it does not imprison you, but it can turn any dream into a backpack that is too heavy. When a young person feels their ideas find no support, their potential erodes.
Psychology has explained this for decades: creativity needs oxygen; resilience needs support; innovation needs, at a minimum, not to be sabotaged from the cradle.
Argentina adds its own spice: economic urgency. That intimate ecosystem where future talents grow—or are extinguished—talents that could transform a neighborhood, a city, or an entire country. And although we like to cling to the myth of pure merit, the truth is more uncomfortable: no one takes off in solitude; everyone takes off from some ground.
But understanding this fabric does not mean giving up. Because no talent flourishes without nutrients, and no future takes off in a climate that condemns any difference as a threat.
To accompany is not to overprotect. Jobs that celebrate submission and distrust critical thinking. In an Argentina where informal labor hits 70% of those under 30 and youth unemployment doubles the average, telling them to “fly” without giving them a runway is almost a cruelty disguised as advice.
According to recent surveys, more than half of young people still depend on family support—and feel ashamed of it—while 82% plan to become entrepreneurs.
There is courage. It is not hostility, but fear disguised as common sense. It is to forge a path, adjust expectations, listen without ridiculing, guide without stifling. It is to accept that new dreams do not fit into old molds.
We see them in freelancing, in hackathons, in environmental volunteer work, in digital communities that offer mentorship where the physical world offers silence.
The same fear that today holds back thousands. We see it all the time: young people with brilliant ideas running into family walls that confuse security with obedience. No takeoff is possible with contaminated fuel.
But Gino himself has said that at home, at first, they looked at him with skepticism: “And you're going to live on that?”. Financial independence is the breaking point between daring and resigning.
Mental health is also part of the engine. They already know this.
Takeoffs happen. Sometimes they are late, sometimes they are painful, sometimes they demand more than a young person should bear. Educational systems that reward repetition and punish creativity. His project, Atomic Lab, went on to receive international awards and changed real lives. Think of Gino Tubaro. But they happen.
