I have the standard reaction: just because we CAN do something, it does not follow that we SHOULD.
While standard, it is a pretty controversial topic. As a reductio ad absurdum, let's boil it down to The Croods animated movie. If we don't do things beyond immediate needs, we could do with a nice cave. All those discoveries, and yearnings to find out what is beyond that mountain - those are not really needed, right? At least for an individuum or a single family.
And then as soon as there's a group of people, which might form a society, things immediately become muddled. Who decides what is needed for whom? And how? And what if that kid from that family is dreaming about flying like a bird, isn't that dangerous and should we toss her from the cliff before something bad happens to us all?
And on another note, I happen to hold as yet another not very popular opinion that we as a society should perhaps put more emphasis on teaching people being happy from within rather from without. And that can not be done by obsessing over not hurting absolutely anyone's feelings. Humanity is but a thin, very fragile (if ultra opinionated about lots of things including itself) smudge of biomass on this planet - even insects are, physically, more out there. The planet in question itself is not the center of the Universe either. Feelings, lives, limbs, whole societies will be hurt by things much more powerful than some sort of body image projection. I am firmly convinced that we should start steering towards more realistic context, rather than a wildly popular approach that if e.g. someone's is not going to be addressed by a specific sort of a novelty pronoun invented last year, the world is going to end. If we don't, our lack of focus and petty grievances are bound to bite us hard and fast.
That doesn't mean we should be mean to each other (pun intended), far from it. Kindness is a gift and a key. But IMNSHO we should stop trying to create an emotionally sterile environment based on unwarranted entitlement.
I'll toss on a couple quotes, just for entertainment value.
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
This planet has—or rather had—a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much all of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movement of small green pieces of paper, which was odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
And so the problem remained; lots of people were mean, and lots of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches.
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the oceans.
That's the very beginning of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams.
The universe is just there; that's the only way a Fedaykin can view it and remain the master of his senses. The universe neither threatens nor promises. It holds things beyond our sway: the fall of a meteor, the eruption of a spiceblow, growing old and dying. These are the realities of this universe and they must be faced regardless of how you feel about them. You cannot fend off such realities with words. They will come at you in their own wordless way and then, then you will understand what is meant by "life and death." Understanding this, you will be filled with joy.
-Muad'Dib to his Fedaykin
And this one is from one of the Dune books, by Frank Herbert.