I hate to be a party pooper, but it’s time we rethink the way we celebrate birthdays. Maybe it’s time to blow out the candles on this tradition—and light a new way of thinking.

I’ve never shared my birthday on social media, and I don’t tell coworkers when it’s coming. It’s not a secret—it’s just not important. Despite what our culture teaches us, it’s another day on the calendar, not a milestone in moral worth. I’ve never accepted a birthday gift as an adult, and the last time I had a birthday party, Ronald Reagan was president. I don’t need more possessions or fanfare. The gift I want is a cultural shift in how we think about celebration itself.

Let’s be honest: most of us don’t need birthday gifts, attention, or the obligatory chorus of “happy birthdays” from people who barely know us. There’s something curious about grown adults announcing their birthdays as if they’d just discovered a cure for the flu. We bask in empty well-wishes and obligatory emojis that evaporate seconds after being posted. I’d rather throw a cake in the face of that superficial ritual and live in a culture where people deflect attention from themselves instead of inhaling it like an industrial vacuum.

If we truly want to do something kind for someone, we should do it because it’s in our hearts—not because a date or notification nudged us to. We need fewer Pavlovian reactions to fabricated holidays and more independent, compassionate action. And if people insist on giving, there are options that don’t inflate our carbon footprint.

Why does any of this matter? Birthdays, as we celebrate them, reinforce four troubling ideas: that existing alone is cause for applause; that materialism is a virtue wrapped in a bow; that conformity trumps critical thought; and that while billions suffer, we still make the day—and often the expense—about ourselves.

We can do better. The world doesn’t need more self-congratulation. It needs empathy. It needs clean drinking water, malaria nets, low-cost medical devices, and preserved ecosystems. It needs habitats protected, oceans healed, and basic decency extended to the beings with whom we share this planet. Instead of celebrating ourselves, birthdays could become opportunities to serve others—to honor our own good fortune by sharing it. Birthdays should be used to show our gratitude that we survived another year in a world filled with hardship.

We have birthdays backwards. Instead of asking, “What will I get?” we could ask, “What can I give?” Imagine the impact if millions redirected their birthday spending and attention toward those who need it most.

When I read headlines like “Will Smith Skydives for His 50th Birthday,” I can’t help but think: what a missed opportunity. Why not use that visibility to highlight a cause, start an initiative, or set an example for fans to follow? The sky isn’t the limit when it comes to giving—it’s just a distraction.

I don’t believe in celebrating people simply because the calendar turned over. We should celebrate people for what they contribute, for what they create and give. When I want to honor someone, I donate to a cause in their name. It’s a small act, but it keeps the focus on impact, not indulgence.

To their credit, many people are already leading the way—turning their birthdays into fundraisers, inviting friends to donate to charity instead of buying gifts. These are the real trendsetters, using their platforms to elevate compassion over consumption. We should follow their lead.

Every person—and every animal—is born into vastly different circumstances. The playing field isn’t level, and never has been. But if we have the privilege to celebrate, we also have the responsibility to equalize, even a little. The adage doesn’t say, “To whom much is given, many birthday parties are expected.”

My birthday wish is that we blow out the candles on meaningless self-celebration. Let’s light a different kind of candle—one that brightens the world beyond ourselves.