The Hames Report

The Thunberg Effect

Mohandas Gandhi said that when trying to make any change that challenges the morality of the status quo, your opponents will at first ignore you, laugh at you, then fight you, before you eventually win.

Over the past three years much has been made of the attention Greta Thunberg has been getting through the clarity and provocative tone of her message. Her adversaries are fighting back. The scorn and vitriol poured on this reluctant hero - mostly by ultra-right-wing shock jocks genuflecting to a bunch of old white men trying to preserve their fragile grasp on power in a world already shifting beyond their control - reached fever pitch prior to the pandemic.

In a little over a year Thunberg went from an unassuming lone crusader to a global muse for climate activism. The movement she has inspired appears to be unstoppable. International institutions like the UN, instruments of state, and of law and order, have been taken aback and are baffled by how best to deal with such an unprecedented uprising.

On the face of it we are dealing with a very straightforward issue. A majority of citizens, in most countries, want unified, consistent, urgent action to deal with the climate crisis. This is based upon irrefutable scientific evidence that Earth's climate is heating up and will become inimical to human life if something is not done about it. For the past three decades we have dragged our feet. Demands for action have been half-hearted, and the political appetite for a shift from fossil fuels to renewable energy, almost non-existent, given the power of the oil, coal and gas lobby. But now we are rapidly reaching a flashpoint that will change the course of human history.

One of the problems for all of us is that this issue is far more complicated than we assume. The dilemma Thunberg and her generation faces is profoundly frustrating, emotionally exhausting, and exists on several levels...

1. Although the science is explicit, the plurality of extant beliefs in the modern world means there can be no easy accord on fundamentals, least of all what action should be taken. All the evidence points to the need for a prompt response if we are to reduce greenhouse gases in the atmosphere to levels conducive to human wellbeing, introduce regenerative projects to heal the damage done by decades of industrial farming and fishing. We have known this for at least 40 years. Yet the enduring response from governments, including those most culpable, remains lethargically bureaucratic and cautious.

2. The need for immediate action, compels Thunberg and other activists to meet and interact with incumbent leaders. Many, like Boris Johnson, Scott Morrison, Jair Bolsanaro, and Donald Trump when he was in office, share convictions absolving them from the 'needlessly anxious' entreaties of an18-year-old teenager with Asperger's Syndrome. Their deep-seated self-righteousness, steeled by a neo-liberal code, ultra-conservative values, and the entitlement culture into which they were born, permits them to dismiss the message and the messenger with contempt.

Trying to persuade these individuals to adopt a contradictory belief system is challenging enough. Expecting them to accept scientific evidence to which they are currently opposed, and to appreciate the need for urgent collaborative action, flies in the face of everything they stand for and identify with. It is a Sisyphean task.

3. Were it not for the urgency, Thunberg's message would not be aimed primarily at these narcissistic individuals and their sycophantic followers. It resonates more deeply with youth and those dispersed, dissatisfied, millions of people in the developed world who, distressed by the real possibility of extinction, and concerned for the future of their children, are alarmed by the unwillingness of their governments to take immediate and appropriate action. Greta's unwavering call is what this group has been waiting for. To rise up, unite and demand change, imposing it through civil disobedience if necessary.

But even that is not the total picture. Looking through a more granular lens it becomes clear that a large part of this group is overwhelmed by anxiety. No longer able to trust the expert, scientific evidence, or state institutions, they remain disengaged. For them opinions are now a legitimate substitute for the truth. Denial is sufficient in itself.

Those who are not so overwhelmed are easily led. Mistrusting the media, they are happy to blindly follow brash celebrities with big personalities and simple solutions, who are always ready to flaunt existing laws, or brand as fake news anything that fails to meet their own ends. 

And then there are the so-called leaders. Some in this group actively work to disparage those like Greta Thunberg who are merely telling the truth. Others are content to ignore any moral considerations in order to retain their hold on power by appeasing the masses. A few who do exhibit a more inclusive perspective and communal consciousness, like Christiana Figueres and Angela Merkel for example, face a backlash at home.

The challenge is how to animate this entire group, the bulk of citizens in the developed world, to wake up, call out the truth to power, and crash through to generate informed action. For if this group fails to discard their fading trust in society's most venerable institutions and players, in order to forestall what will otherwise be an inevitable catastrophe, there can be no hope for the human family beyond our lifetime.

4. The quest for transformation of the established order is a moral responsibility. Those of us with knowledge must speak on behalf of those who are simply unable to influence even their own situation. More than 3 billion people live on less than $2.50 a day. Around 66 million live in extreme poverty - surviving on less than $1.25 a day. Meanwhile the 10 richest people in the world are worth $686 billion. A billion children worldwide are living in poverty and 22,000 die each day as a result. This means a large proportion of the population is not even present in conversations about the climate crisis. Subsisting on the fringes of war, repression, hunger and fear, their attention is totally focused on how they can survive for one more night.

5. It can be unwise to divorce the climate crisis from other existential threats. All of them arise from the way we choose to live our lives. Everything is interconnected. It is tempting to point to carbon emissions as both the singular cause of, and the solution to, climate change. But climate change is a euphemism. Industrial production, the fossil fuel energy used to drive it, and the quest for endless economic growth have converged to trigger a breakdown of the Earth's major ecosystems. The problems range from a loss of biodiversity, stresses on food production, the spread of infectious diseases, and water scarcity, to issues such as terrorism, security, immigration, corruption, the demise of state hegemony, nuclear accidents and machine intelligence.

But these, too, are only symptoms of a much deeper malaise. For the mess in which we find ourselves can best be described as a crisis of consciousness - a breakdown in moral purpose, and a lack of appreciation for what it means to be human - both aggravated by the deliberate continuation of a cycle of desire and consumption that is now so central to how modern society works and to which we are all addicted.

Just imagine... The cravings of 7.860 billion people, all desiring more money, to buy more stuff, is putting untold pressure on many of our most life-critical systems - such as health, food production, construction, education and governance, for example - and the energy needed to keep the wheels turning. Most of these systems were not designed to cope with such sheer numbers, which is why they are beginning to fail.

Our intrinsic impulse to compete opens up wide cultural divisions and social rifts, as we blame anyone who is not like us for our problems. Only when that behaviour makes matters worse do we grasp the inevitable truth - that as individuals we have no power to change the course of global events. There is no place to hide, no sanctuary from the insanity. So we keep going as best we can or choose to immerse ourselves in mindless distractions, drop out for a life off-the-grid, join a rebellion, or succumb to anxiety and depression. Apprehensive and cynical, we resort to buying more and more goods in the hope, or expectation, this will cure our sadness - for that is what we have consistently been told. As the religion of materialism fails us yet again, the cycle is perpetuated. Meanwhile the despair deepens.

As I have pointed out previously, there are many factors amplifying the levels of physical and psychological discomfort we are all feeling. One in particular stands out as the key source of our anxiety: our shared worldview. This has become infused with a dubious impulse based on monetizing literally everything that moves - from the forests and the oceans to personal data. It manifests as a world-system driven by economic growth delivered by greed and envy.

When both markets and governments fall short in providing for the needs of society, the sense of chaos can be overwhelming. We do not easily accept the possibility of extinction. Normalcy bias shields us from acknowledging climate change. And we refuse to believe our civilization is in a state of collapse. It is probable we will continue to believe that until the evidence can no longer be denied - remaining blind, deaf and dumb to worsening conditions, yet confident others, or human ingenuity, or new technologies, will solve these problems in time to avert disaster.

That is why today, surrounded by confusion, ambiguity, misinformation, and conflicting power plays, we find ourselves caught between the plutocratic status quo, with its unsustainable and malignant addiction to business-as-usual, and a world full of empathy and cooperation, where knowledge applied diligently could be used to effect second-order change, at scale, in due course resolving most of the problems those clinging to the status quo choose to ignore, or pray will go away.

The real issue is what we should be doing about this crisis of consciousness of course, which is why Thunberg's message is so apt for us today. As little more than innovative apes, our mental capacity hovers just below the threshold needed to solve most of the existential problems we ourselves have created. Yet our inability to take appropriate action leaves us stranded in an even more vulnerable limbo.

Here then is the real opportunity the Thunberg generation offers us. Not merely to solve the problem of global warming or to adapt to its inevitable consequences. But to leverage the social momentum for change in a shift towards a new civilizational model and worldview. A worldview that is more equitable, sustainable, and generative. One that allows humans to live within their means as well as within the limits imposed by planetary boundaries.

If we can reach the year 2030 having accomplished that, we will have set a path for continued prosperity, health and wellbeing for all life on this planet. That will be the Thunberg effect. The impact of authentic leadership in an era where leadership is otherwise missing in action.

In Free Fall....

Our civilization feels like its in free fall. Much of what we have previously taken for granted now appears to be broken as old operating strategies refuse to work any more. Just as humanity is waking up to the limits imposed by nature on what it can and can not do, so an impasse has been reached in our ability to deal with critical issues in a collective manner - that is as a species.

Over the coming decade we will face a cascade of massively disruptive crises that will feed on each other economically and ecologically. Many of these are going to disable institutional power players, opening up new space for alternative socio-economic, governance, and technological models to embed. As that happens, collaboration on an unprecedented scale will be needed to transition the human family into a world-system that is at once more viable, resilient and nurturing.

In that respect it is useful to examine two probable scenarios. The first presupposes enlightened and effective leadership from at least a fraction of today's political and business elite. This is problematic for three reasons. Those responsible for generating the problems we face are unlikely to be part of the solution. The new leadership will require a level of consciousness and altruism sufficient to rise above perceived self-interest and ego. Much will depend on the trust 'we the people' have in those leaders. If today's dynamics are anything to go by that, in itself, will be a real hurdle.

The second focuses attention on local resilience but accomplished in ways where the resulting innovation flows are accessible universally – for example through open source design, commons, and peer-to-peer communities. Again this is problematic. By and large the general public is insufficiently motivated, informed and proficient in taking responsibility for anything assumed to be the function of government. Federal governments do not easily relinquish power. And in any case grassroots organizations tend to be far better dealing with local issues and are not geared up to cooperate on a global scale, at least without additional resources and layers of governance.

Clearly elements of both scenarios are critical to success. Both must be framed within different logics of possibility and desirability.

I find it fascinating that all the hype in the business-government axis of the dominant world-system right now - from the online World Economic Forum, to the new Biden administration in the US, and even unusually explicit statements from Presidents Putin and Xi, for example, is all about societal transitions, great resets, transformations, a zeitgeist shift to stakeholder capitalism, new normals, and green, green, green!

Frankly it is a little too hard to take these New Year's resolutions as anything more than a new wave of money-making gambits. Just as previous initiatives - B Corps, conscious capitalism, the triple bottom line and various other "social impact" agendas - at the end of the day little more than catchphrases, but so readily taken up by the corporate crowd, anything that makes business sense, tunes into the public mood, and balances purpose and profit, is a gotcha deal. I can believe some of the heartfelt declarations. But good intentions only get us so far. It is actions that we now await with bated breath. We must see what structural changes actually eventuate, and how rapidly these gain traction. And we must pray this is not just another cynical exercise of rearranging the deckchairs once again - because that, dear reader, is all we have seen so far.

My cynicism can be traced to five factors that appear to be impeding civilizational renewal in terms of a substantive societal metamorphosis. They have nothing to do with technology, infrastructure or investment capital, and very little to do with politics. In fact all five of these factors are relatively intangible. What they do have in common is an affiliation with the cultural and psychological spaces within which we typically respond to shifting and uncertain conditions.

Very simply stated these factors are (i) the separation of ideas and social relations and sense of exceptionalism that results from the false premise of detachment; (ii) treating other people and species as objects to be manipulated; (iii) obsolete mindsets; (iv) the obtrusiveness of competitive conduct within and across all human activities; and (v) the fragmentation of endeavours. Let us examine each of these in turn.

As the umbilical bond human beings have with each other expands and extends, both through travel and unbounded online platforms, we have become more attuned to comprehending Homo sapiens as a global “community of mind” - as an experiential phenomenon on at least one level. Global communications networks, along with our capacity to observe events and natural disasters as they happen, have allowed us to feel members of a cohesive human family. We feel the pain of others in distress.

At the same time, the world has splintered into diverse factions. Starting originally with nations, then followed by myriad communities, groups and tribes - right down to the sovereign individual - this pluriversal mix of distinct, often opposing, values, customs, myths, languages and activities, lacks any shared worldview conveying a desirable common future.

Shards of information depicting who we are, what matters to us, and what qualities we emphasize, in terms of what we believe it means to be human, slam into each other to reveal a schizophrenic state, in which coming to terms with the remorse we suffer from wreaking so much misery on our fellow beings becomes almost unbearable. The only way we have been able to shield ourselves from, or avoid, such emotional distress, is through the pretense of separation - an artificially-imposed detachment from others and from other species that is not simply unhealthy but a delusion.

Coupled to this is the toolkit we have derived to fathom out all manner of ills, and to which we turn when it comes to making sense of tangible events and issues - or our world-system. Here, critical issues facing humankind are becoming decoupled from each other in our forensic analysis of them. We no longer discern the entanglement. Topics are separate in our minds. In first seeking that which separates one idea from another we fail to discern and appreciate the crucial connecting tissues.

When it comes to issues like climate change, the production of clean energy, or state-sponsored terrorism, for example, we continue to apply linear thinking (usually with greater enthusiasm than before, and even in the knowledge that our solutions are not working and cannot possibly work) yet stop striving to design a different world where such symptoms (of a system in stress) could not endure. There are a few fundamental reasons for this.

Myopia is very significant in this regard. We tend to become blind to the obvious – the things that really matter. The warning signs of a system in distress are there to be seen, but only by those possessing sufficient bandwidth or acuity to perceive them as such. We are more commonly deceived and distracted by the many thousands of iterations of a few seminal messages - smudging clarity and meaning into inconsequence. This “consensus illusion” often deceives us into believing we are operating with additional information when, in fact, we are becoming indoctrinated with much less. If that were not alarming enough, many vital signs are not appearing on our radar screens because they are either imperceptible to us culturally or are showing up only at the intersection of our understandings.

With few exceptions we are no longer in the habit of seeking evidence in the shadows. We have a habit of following the spotlight, wherever it points. This is why it is so easy for unscrupulous politicians to distract us by responding only to questions they want to answer. Even if we were looking in the right places we lack the tools to bring into sharp focus what we might see there. In other words the territory has changed but our maps and reasoning have not kept pace. We have all become so busy interpreting what is going on from our own, deeply embedded, meaning structures that we have become oblivious to viable alternatives.

Most people find it almost impossible to grasp the more complex nature of change. Consequently modern society, along with elected representatives, is out of its depth - deficient in the capacity to make sense of what is going on at anything more than a very superficial level. Worse still, as hype around our most critical issues escalates, our ability to confront matters is overwhelmed by a belief that such a thing cannot possibly be happening to us. It is simply too much to bear.

The result is that collective cognition shuts down, or diverts to less existential matters like sporting events, celebrity gossip and other diversions. This is becoming known as apocalypse fatigue. People suffering from this condition feel helpless to do anything about the issues confronting them. They would much rather ignore any threat to their own existence by acting as if it isn’t true, shrug their shoulders in despair, and turn away from reality simply because it is too dreadful to contemplate. Ultimately there is only one question that really matters. Whatever happens over the next few decades the wealthy will survive. The three billion or so people who are not so fortunate will be wiped out. Do we really care? If so, what should we be doing about it.

The Occidental mind, unlike Sinic, Indic, Ubuntu or even Islamic mindsets, is a rational device. It responds best to deductive logic, which it values over all other methods of knowing. Accordingly, those of us raised in the West have been conditioned into building and dissecting structures one piece at a time. We have been taught to analyze and measure critical dimensions before applying problem-solving techniques to re-engineer these parts. Using this logic results in solutions ranging from the brilliant to the commonplace.

Method, though, remains consistent - dependent upon ranking and resources. So one or more parts of a structure - those perceived to be the weakest links - are improved, while other parts are ignored. When we see a deterioration in different parts of the structure we switch our attention to those elements and ignore the parts we were working on. While we in the West have become very adept at this kind of structural reductionism we have neglected to develop similar expertise in the design of viable and enduring systems. Our greatest weakness, however, is in applying deductive logic to every challenge facing us. By excluding alternative ways of knowing, including indigenous wisdom, we are requiring all other cultures to engage through the lens and morphology of the Occidental mind should they wish to participate in their own survival.

Overload is yet another problem. We are assailed by all kinds of information every hour of our waking lives. It has been known for some time that too much information causes a condition known as sensory overload. This produces disorientation and a lack of responsiveness, as well as lowering our ability to make accurate predictions. Not only does this make it much more difficult for us to comprehend and communicate the complex patterns we discern in systems, constructing effective, enduring solutions, is even more problematic when we are exhausted by the very information that might have the solution embedded within it.

We have developed a highly refined sense of shifting the blame. It is not my problem is a conditioned reflex acquired through our instruction-based, rather than inquiry-based, educational methods. As we are herded into careers, social memes, and classes, we develop a highly refined sense of what is in our purview. We seek public sector solutions to our wantonly excessive consumption. We rely upon government intervention when our sick and aging need care. We look to the police for community relations. We look to the clergy for morality. Regardless of evidence showing a lack of cognitive alignment within our collective transmuted accountability, the notion of someone else should remains our dominant modus operandi. 

Then, when these systems fail, we animate them with our personal projections of an accountability that they never accepted in our opening premise. By focusing on the role of leaders and obsessing on artefacts of hierarchical structure we have lost our moorings on citizenship and personal responsibility within community. In reality we are the problems we project on others. But then we, too, are the capacity to solve the same.

In spite of the highly controlled machinery of denial, misinformation and propaganda a growing minority genuinely comprehend the seriousness of our predicament. A few are even trying to do something about it. But having a partial sense of circumstances beyond our control has also encouraged society’s communicators to go to town in ways that exploit our growing sense of angst and that are detrimental to longer-term planetary solutions.

Some have leapt on discrete issues to push their own frenzied (often negative, cynical and commercial) self-interest. As a consequence most memes expressing the evolving human condition are conveyed via a strange mix of edgy fear coupled to competitive dogma - rather than from any sense of hope, inspiration and abundance. It must be said that some recent strategies by celebrity politicians and well-meaning activists have also unintentionally contributed to an overwhelming feeling of helplessness that has humanity in a vice-like grip.

Most of the seeds responsible for today’s rampant damage across so many sectors of society were sown during the industrial revolution. Those seeds stemmed from a type of thinking that was uniquely Occidental in its embrace of growth and innovation. This was ultimately responsible for the triumph of Western neoliberal economies of course. It has only been over the past few decades that it culminated in the hugely exploitative mechanisms of production we are experiencing today – variants of the capitalist ethos that have become driven by greed and are designed to promote the acquisition of wealth above any other goal.

Developing states, including China, Singapore and Dubai, have started to emulate this model, or a hybrid lookalike. Today, because of the exponential demand for food, water, energy and goods from the almost eight billion people who live on this planet, a perfect storm of economic and social flaws inherent within the original design is about to break. In spite of this, all relevant societal memes are still predicated on the erroneous notion that Occidental worldviews and values hold the key to civilizational renewal. This is hubris and narcissism at its most evil.

Western views of progress already border on the irrelevant in almost all non-Western traditions. Future solutions to the civilizational problem must of necessity integrate and transcend all current worldviews if they are to be effective. That means giving an appropriate voice to those cultures, along with credence to alternative economic and social modes of development.

The political inertia we see does not spring from apathy or any lack of a desire to change. Again the problem can be found in our thinking. In this case the notion of competition (and the prevalence of competitive behaviour) traps us in circumstances where it is expected that we fight others in order to safeguard our own parochial interests. Thus the lack of any real political leadership is first and foremost the result of us succumbing to an obsolete economic paradigm with its associated suite of constraints concerned with preserving the national interest.

The fact is we are beholden to mechanisms, from the nation state to the G20 and even the United Nations, that effectively hinder collaboration on a planetary scale.

Conventional wisdom maintains that we are fundamentally competitive social beings. Most biological evidence points to the contrary. But this is part of the paradigm we must shatter in order for the communal needs and interests we all share to shine through.

If the lack of a unified vision or platform for change is a serious issue then the splintering of any strategic focus and alignment are huge contributing factors to a demoralizing diffusion and dilution of energy. Currently there are myriad discrete and well-meaning initiatives, strategies, campaigns, movements and media all vying for our attention and funding across a range of theatres. Such diversity is overwhelming and a distraction in its own right. There is also far too much talk and not nearly enough inspired leadership for action attached to these ventures.

The key will be to find strategic acupuncture points that liberate new energy flows, concentrating and embedding entrepreneurial passion and relevant innovations within the evolving world-system. A critical element in this regard will be investment capital for renewal. The injection of capital and resources from business and high net worth individuals is still channelled overwhelmingly into old ‘sunset’ industries and interests – including the servicing of war and conflict which is a highly profitable business.

Two things must change. First entirely new business models must be invented from within alternative ontological frames. These must challenge prevalent assumptions governing investment, value and profitable exchange, ultimately making it more attractive to invest in things like renewable energy, regenerative agriculture, mutual enterprises, charitable agencies and alternative governance mechanisms.

Secondly, however inconceivable or idealistic it might seem, we must wean ourselves off military combat. Peace is a prerequisite for societal renewal. We cannot create peace by practising warfare.

So there is our dilemma. For the first time in history we are faced not with a simple problem requiring a simple solution, but with a fiercely diabolical condition – a world-system so immensely and dynamically complex that even the most sophisticated and advanced reductionist thinking, coupled to rational data, and a host of incredible technological breakthroughs, are still totally inadequate to correct the unintended consequences of our original defective design.

Yet we insist on using old tools and thinking to combat this enemy. It is not the planet that is at risk but our civilization.

Dancing Dragon

For at least as long as I can remember, pundits in the West have been predicting the imminent collapse of the Chinese miracle. If the speed of reform is not sufficient, then the unintended impacts of the one child policy will surely do the job. If it is not the numerous non-performing loans in the banking sector that are sowing the seeds of destruction, then it is bound to be President Xi's militaristic aspirations.

Depending on which expert you listen to, the list of possible hurdles - not necessarily invalid in terms of their individual gravity - goes on and on. And it is certainly true that China faces enormous threats to its future stability on a variety of fronts. But such factors are invariably distorted by the erroneous fictions we apply in a desperate effort to provide lucid reasons for why such collapse is inevitable. Myths like Chinese workers are good at counterfeit manufacturing but unskilled at innovation. Or, (I love this one) productivity in Chinese industry can never match Western efficiencies. Rapid and disruptive change of the kind China has undertaken is unsustainable – sooner or later the entire experiment must collapse, just as it did in the Soviet Union. Up-and-coming entrepreneurs leave China for the West where there are more opportunities…

To anyone with even a basic inkling of life in contemporary China these statements are deceptively false. Sweeping assertions containing shards of the truth. Loud firecrackers accompany the dance of the red dragon: a dance that has already reshaped markets, competition, trade and politics, pulled millions out of poverty, and defied the primacy of the Occidental worldview. For most of us the dance itself remains an exotic mystery.

Of course each of the aforementioned issues, as well as other widely acknowledged problems - such as escalating labour costs, the private property bubble, an aging population, and the drag of state-owned enterprises on the economy - could all bring adversity to China. But the simple fact is none of these factors have had the kind of seismic impact some of us expected and, let us admit it, secretly hoped for. Nor are any of them likely to bring China to its knees – now or in the immediate future.

My confidence that this is the case, a point that will doubtless be disputed by those who think they know better, or pretend to have a more informed slant on current affairs, is based upon a simple conviction: when the hordes of China-watchers tell us what is happening in China (and why) they rely on official versions of tightly-scripted public utterances, which are themselves open to misinterpretation.

By and large our observations are filtered through an Occidental lens that diffuses the reality. This also applies to some Western correspondents living in China, witnesses who fail to engage unreservedly in the communal socialist experience. Furthermore, upon closer scrutiny, many of the more dire predictions aimed at China are a mixture of ignorance, wishful thinking and a failure to comprehend three important tenets:

1. There is absolutely no compelling reason for China to copy the West’s most favoured models and practices in order to grow and prosper. All other things being equal, neither market capitalism nor democratic governance are innately better, or more virtuous, than state-supported capitalism and a unicameral system of government. Both can be degraded, or sustain their integrity. Both can benefit citizens, or destroy the social fabric of the society. Both can be gamed for individual gain.

2. Free market capitalism particularly, at least as currently practiced in the West, is never free and far from perfect. As its detrimental impacts and unwanted side-effects become more and more costly in human terms it is hardly surprising that the Chinese leadership should overtly try to avoid the more obvious traps they see playing out in the West as best they can.

3. Forging a uniquely hybrid path of state-supported capitalism, underpinned by a mercantilist approach to trade, as best illustrated by the Belt & Road initiative, is strategically shrewd - especially given China’s unique history, culture and Confucian ethos.

So within the context of China’s re-emergence onto the world stage it could be argued that the best chance of continued success will come from China doing what it has done for the past quarter century or more – at least since Deng Xiaoping opened the country to international competition following his visits to Singapore in 1978, and the USA the following year. After all, the record of social progress since then has been remarkable.

But these three tenets may also give us a clue as to an emerging factor that could be of concern. Indeed it could very well signal an inner erosion of confidence that eventually brings down the Chinese empire – or at least causes it to change tack dramatically.

This wild card concerns (i) a palpable rivalry between the princelings - the close-knit web of sons and daughters of revolutionary heroes who have slowly gained political kudos in China, (ii) the enormous affluence of this group in comparison to ordinary Chinese workers, and (iii) the intensifying social coercion, along with instruments of surveillance, being deployed by Xi Jinping in his efforts both to engrave his personal brand into the archives of the Chinese Communist Party, and to control a populace of some 1.4 billion people, dispersed over a landmass covering roughly one-fourteenth of the total land area of Earth.

Ironically this situation reflects a similar trend in the West where the disparity between a small minority of individuals and corporations with extreme wealth, and those who have very little by comparison, is a concern. Plug into those circumstances a penchant for increasingly authoritarian policies from the incumbent elite, and you have a highly volatile situation where a social revolution, an economic meltdown, or both, becomes feasible. This possibility was most evident recently with intensifying divisions opening up in the US followed by the storming of the Capitol. Socially the US is still very much on a knife edge. Meanwhile the Biden administration intends ramping up pressure on China over trade, human rights, and the situation in Hong Kong and Taiwan, rather than back off as was commonly expected.

Meanwhile on the Chinese mainland, the rot and the potential damage inflicted by any form of social unrest or civilian protests will most likely go far deeper, particularly since dynastic putrefaction and decline, after years of unfolding public scandals, and the recent antitrust push from China's Central Bank against the likes of Alibaba, have become common gossip on the street. If leaders lose their control over the prevailing memes in society, anything becomes possible.

Since taking over the leadership of the Party in November 2012 President Xi Jinping has repeatedly warned that corruption and decay have become so corrosive that they now threaten the Party and the state. He has criticized China's bureaucracy, hoping to curb the previously ubiquitous extravagance. Yet even today, claims are circulating about the fortunes that have already been amassed by members of Xi’s own family.

In 2013 such a story dominated the front pages. Bo Xilai, the former popular mayor of Dalian and one of the Party’s most favoured princelings, fell spectacularly from grace. The disclosures surrounding Bo’s inner circle, where mass torture was condoned and multimillion dollar favours were meted out as a matter of course, revealed a culture of ruthless fraud and duplicity few had imagined.

The case opened a Pandora’s box, effectively blowing the lid on the families of other leading Maoist revolutionaries and Politburo members (including that of the venerable Wen Jiabao) who, it is alleged, have used their status and abuse of official power to grow vast business empires and amass personal fortunes.

At this stage the long-term political fallout is hard to estimate. Bo himself was found guilty of corruption, stripped of all his assets and sentenced to life imprisonment. His downfall elicited strong reactions among the Chinese public and with commentators across the political spectrum. But as wealth becomes more and more concentrated in a small elite, the potential threat is amplified by the rise of a large, increasingly vocal internet community, that have no problems finding inventive ways to get around the firewalls of the state censors. 

Many people conveniently forget that Chairman Mao Zedong had declared the only way to break free from the dynastic cycles that characterized Chinese history until then was through 'democratic' reform. That was in 1945. What Mao did not count on was how the children of the so-called Eight Immortals, the founders of the communist revolution, could foul things up so spectacularly.

By exploiting the trust of the state and gaining unlimited access to high-level political connections, the princelings are reaping vast rewards from China’s explosive growth. In an outcome that would shock Deng Xiaoping, the divide between the rich and the poor once again echos the pre-Communist era, further delaying badly needed reforms to curb state control that is often used merely to mask underlying inefficiencies.

Massive change to the political underpinnings of China could be in the offing as a result of these scandals, although the trigger could equally be economic or militaristic.

No rapidly-industrializing economies have been able to avert a financial crash at some stage in their history. I would not expect China to be an exception, in spite of its sheer pragmatism. The cause could be any of a number of factors. Yet the one element the Chinese leadership is most loath to confront is the sight of Party officials becoming modern-day Rockefellers at the expense of the people. Deng once proclaimed that 'to become wealthy is glorious' although I suspect it unlikely he was giving his blessing to current corrupt practices that have the potential to subvert the entire socialist order.

It would never have occurred to Deng that generating wealth could cause a rift in the social fabric of the nation sufficient to be China’s undoing. But when you follow the money trail it’s hard not to see that as a distinct possibility.

Meanwhile the more likely scenario for modern China is a continued escalation of economic and military power to rival that of past empires - including the US.

Round and Around We Go

There is something about the human mind and about the way we use it that is at once quirky and persistently primitive: seriously out-of-kilter with contemporary reality. Of particular interest to me in this regard is the way we try to provision for the needs of a growing global population.

Neoliberal economic theories have generated a cycle of desire and consumption. This is propelled by an arrangement where objects and services can be acquired through a widely accepted system of exchange that hinges on labour and wages, as well as credit and debt. This materialist wealth-generating fantasy has become a global infatuation. It defines our major concerns and purpose in life.

I imagine this cycle as a dazzling Ferris wheel in the theme park of human experience. It is so massive, so all-encompassing, that it blocks out the sun. All other rides look dull by comparison, even though the wheel is beginning to show its age.

Each passenger capsule houses a distinct crowd who are on the ride for a particular reason. They are all relatively affluent. Some groups might be here to buy the latest gadgets. Others seek funds to develop innovative products. A few want to buy a second home, or a more fashionable outfit. Food, drink and entertainment  are included in the price of the ticket.

Millions of people stand around and watch - envy etched on their faces. They all hope for a ticket - but the price is prohibitive for most. Centripetal acceleration means that few are sufficiently agile enough to jump onboard the moving attraction, while only an insane individual would want to get off. A few people are beginning to feel nauseous and sense that the wheel is speeding up. But their cries for assistance go unheeded in the hubbub of marketing mayhem.

Meanwhile very few people on the ground have sufficient motivation or experience to know they should be rushing to apply the brakes. They simply continue to queue up, as instructed by the owners of the theme park, in a never-ending line of forlorn hope.

That is us. Trapped on a modern-day ship of fools. A contraption of human ingenuity, no doubt, but simply unable to see that we should get off or at least slow down. We manage our affairs as though they were entirely straightforward mechanisms where one size fits all. We cry foul when others point out that our map is inaccurate, or that there are several incompatible maps. We share the illusion that establishing targets to achieve desired outcomes will work and that reality will simply bow to our aims. We persist in the belief that the resources we are using will always be there for us, even though we can see with our own eyes they are diminishing. We keep on patching up the engine of the ride, rather than designing a new one requiring cleaner fuel...

Need I go on? We are held back by a number of fallacious constructs, many related to the tree of ignorance. On the one hand we revere expert knowledge, yet tend to be guided more by opinions than science. We habitually construct arguments using only partial, inadequate, or ambiguous information. We throw tantrums when our integrity is questioned, trapping us in baffling compromises between equally wretched choices. We resist trying to find neutral ground, preferring to focus on the things that separate us rather than those that unite us. And we take short-cuts - citing extreme costs, little time, or just too much complexity - when we could be transcending most of today's wicked problems by exploring them through the lens of entirely new ontologies. Not only that...

We are fearful of challenging deeply embedded superstitions that guided the daily lives of our ancestors - indeed individuals are often pilloried when they do mount a serious challenge to widely-accepted orthodoxies. Heresy they cry! Worse, we are easily seduced by ignorant yet attention-grabbing drivel that appeals to our innate desire not to disturb the status quo. Is it any wonder that we are so reluctant to dismount the frenzied pace of the Ferris wheel?

An oft-repeated mantra heard during the global economic meltdown of 2008 was that a bank, corporation or industry, was too big to fail. I was unsure whether this meant that its size, wealth, or customer base would inevitably prevent failure, or that it was too important to be allowed to fail and must therefore receive some form of help. It reminded me of a quaint sign I once saw in the toilet of a train in Britain, which said "Gentlemen Lift the Seat". In that instance I was unsure whether it was meant as an instruction, a goal, or simply someone's assumed definition of a gentleman.

Although the axiom ‘too big to fail’ has been used mostly to emphasize the value of a particular institution, industry or enterprise to the economy, it inadvertently reveals a common fallacy - one that happens to be at the core of our thinking about business and the environment.

In fact nothing is too big to fail. Not a society, nor even a civilization. Indeed, specific traits underpinning past civilizational failures reveal a fragility in terms of hubris and aspirational errors that are undeniable.

In nature, too, nothing is too big to fail. Large, overly-complicated systems invariably crash. To understand why that is so one needs to step back from our prevailing set of beliefs, especially the conviction that we operate separately from nature's rules and limits, and can therefore exercise authority over a particular course of events. We can not. Which is why all the target-setting in the world ultimately has no real impact on dynamically complex systems like the economy or natural ecosystems. Nature is in the driver’s seat. The sooner we realize that the more fluid and adaptive our policies will become, and the less futile our actions.

The truth of the matter is that we are ecologically illiterate. Not just unfamiliar with indispensable scientific vocabulary and concepts, but spectacularly, catastrophically, tragically stupid! Some of us now appreciate that draining pristine aquifers, felling tropical rainforests, deep-ocean trawling and pumping greenhouse gasses into the atmosphere are self-destructively dumb things to do. But when it comes down to understanding how nature itself behaves, and why, we remain outrageously naive.

Science tells us that any dynamically complex system - be it an economy, a natural ecosystem, an organization or a community - tends to go through fundamental phase adjustments or adaptations throughout the course of its life cycle. There is even a name for it. We call it the coevolutionary cycle. There are four phases in this cycle. They are growth, consolidation, collapse and renewal.

The initial phase is characterized by an openness to a range of possibilities. As the system organizes itself into being, creative energies open up all kinds of options, roles to be filled, innovations to adopt, paths to take, and partnerships to be explored. The potential for growth is rich and seemingly unlimited at this stage.

After a while, however, the system begins to coalesce into fewer and less diverse activities. Efficiencies are sought, standards imposed, and innovation lessens as a consequence. As the system matures, rules blend everything together in ways that restrict further options. During this consolidation phase the system is still growing, while becoming more stable. It may also appear to be more durable, whereas it is actually becoming ever more vulnerable to forces outside of its control.

The Achilles heel in any large sprawling system is inherent in this phase. As soon as each agent is braided into an entangled whole, tiny or subtle adjustments in a remote part of the system can cascade catastrophically throughout the whole. Think of the arsonist’s match at the edge of a township or a small failure in a local generator that brings down an entire section of a power distribution network.

As we experience dramatic shifts in extreme weather, we can appreciate just how, in an overly mature system, disruptions that start small can escalate rapidly, sometimes spinning totally out of human control. For example, as the amount of atmospheric carbon dioxide increases the oceans become more acidic. At a critical, albeit unknown point, this could potentially shut down entire food webs. Given our reliance on the oceans for food and carbon sequestration this would be sufficient to generate a crisis in its own right. But at this stage we are doing nothing to prevent such a disaster.

The question of ocean acidity also illustrates how easy it is to cross thresholds (even just a small increase in carbon dioxide can precipitate catastrophe) and fall into self-reinforcing feedback loops. Large consolidated systems are particularly vulnerable to such runaway scenarios. Think of the domino effect within the densely connected global economy where a financial product built on thin air (credit-default swaps) and fuelled by greed, led to the collapse of Bear Stearns, then Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch and AIG. What appeared to be hardly credible one day eventually happened with such extraordinary speed the next.

The third phase in the typical coevolutionary cycle is collapse. This generally transpires from a lack of resilience – the capacity of any socio-ecological system to withstand shocks, deal with disturbances and persist, either by navigating change and, if feasible, helping to shape future conditions, or returning to the previous stable state.

The resilience of whole systems has been a field mostly overlooked in management circles. Instead, we prefer to stubbornly cling to the delusion of command and control.

When I was a boy, at a time when resources seemed limitless and economic growth became the dominant paradigm, such neglect was explicable. But we are now feeling the impact of such a casualness lack of foresight. It is because everything in this world is not simply linked but intertwined, that when mature systems go into a state of shock the ensuing collapse feels like an earthquake rather than erosion. This is precisely what we are beginning to feel now we are aware of the immense damage we have inflicted on our natural environment that sustains all life.

Although it may be tricky to detect during the mayhem and commotion of a systemic collapse, enormous amounts of energy are released in this phase of the cycle. Indeed it is this energy that leads to the potential for renewal – the final phase of coevolution. After seeds are cracked open by a forest fire, seedlings thrive in the nutrient-rich loam. They soak up newly available sunlight where the forest canopy has opened to the sky. Then, as those open spaces start to fill, the growth phase begins anew.

It is important to appreciate that collapse does not inevitably lead to regeneration as we would ideally design it. On the contrary, this phase actually creates bifurcation points where many unknown paths and trajectories reappear once again. Collapse can also lead to rapid transitions and unexpected shifts in qualitatively different situations and configurations. At other times it may generate a totally new, unwanted regime. There can be no guarantee – which is why adaptation and the ability to navigate become such vital literacies.

Fire, for example, can renew woodland by clearing debris and resetting the ecological clock. On the other hand, when combined with a prolonged drought, it can set the scene for desertification. In social systems we can influence to some extent whether the outcome is positive or negative by designing with intent: establishing desired goals, providing encouragement and incentives, creating liberating policies that promote diversity, resilience and long-term viability, continuously monitoring and recalibrating the results, or even taking dramatic corrective action.

Once we are able to tune in to the transitional phases of the co-evolutionary cycle, we see them unfolding all around us. At first they may seem overwhelmingly complex, especially when compared to the tidier, more linear models that shape conventional ways of seeing the world. But ignoring that cycle as you build an economy is akin to denying gravity as you build a skyscraper. Indigenous people know this. Perhaps it is time to take more notice of their sagacity and wisdom.

‘Too big to fail’ is a warning signal. It cautions us to take deeper, far more forensic, research and consider whether the seemingly impregnable edifice in front of us is closer to collapse than it appears to be and, if so, to ask what can be done about it.

If we were more ecologically astute we would probably intervene by breaking it up, thus creating space for new niches and for the more dynamic diversity that flows naturally into such a system. The last thing we would do is to prop it up in the futile hope that it would not collapse. Nor would we contemplate setting meaningless targets that achieve absolutely nothing at that stage of the game.

Our ignorance of the coevolutionary cycle is an example of our ecological illiteracy. In truth we are inept at reading all sorts of natural signs. Take the idea of thresholds, for example. Those points of criticality where the slightest nudge can tip an economy into recession or a climate into a new regime of monstrous floods and epic droughts.

Thresholds are the gates between the phases in the coevolutionary cycle, except that they are often one-way: once you stumble through them, it is impossible to get back. Which is why it is crucially important to understand where they are and to be able to identify them. Although we are familiar with the notion of ‘tipping points’ (mostly because we have figured out, albeit belatedly, that we have already crossed too many of them in terms of the climate crisis) we are still abysmal at perceiving, and therefore avoiding, critical thresholds before we reach them.

Understanding exactly where a threshold is located may be tricky. But we can at least look for signs of their boundaries and deliberately try to avoid crossing them when the unintended consequences of doing so can be both unpredictable and dire. There are usually ample warnings after all: the reservoir level is lower each year; the colors in the coral reef are fading; mercury levels in the lake are increasing; severe droughts are becoming more frequent...

Once you have driven off a cliff, it does you little good to realize that you are falling. The time to practice water conservation is prior to the dams and the wells running dry. In other words before the threshold is reached.

Still, if we really were attentive to the natural cycles unfolding around us, we would not be attracted to growth like moths to a flame. We would not equate more growth with success, but with risk, heralding imminent collapse. We certainly would not be aiming today to rebuild yesterday's busted economy so that, tomorrow, we can resume our unlimited looting of nature's storehouse. On the contrary we would try to acquire prosperity and well-being without the need for rampant development.

Until recently we had imagined ourselves unconstrained by limits or rules imposed by nature. Encouraged by ancient scriptures urging us to dominate the Earth, we obliged with unimaginable zeal, building an extensive economy where faster, cheaper, bigger, more (and still more) added up to the winning hand.

Then we behaved as though our ultimate authority over everything, from resource scarcity to those melting ice sheets, was a foregone conclusion. Facing thresholds where the red lights were visibly blinking we simply told ourselves that we would figure out how to tweak the engineering a bit, add a new technology here and there, make room for a few more billion passengers, and push down on the throttle.

We got it terribly wrong. A capitalist economy based on constant, unlimited growth is a reckless whimsy because natural ecosystems can not be limitless - there are only so many pollinators, so many aquifers, so much fertile soil. In nature, unchecked rapid growth is the ideology of the invasive species and the cancer cell. Growth as an end in itself is ultimately self-destructive.

If ‘recovery’ from economic meltdowns, pandemics, and the impacts of shifts in the climate is just another word for a return to business-as-usual we will be squandering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to construct a civilization that might remain viable for generations to come, without overloading the Earth's carrying capacity and courting catastrophe.

Remember that renewal phase of the coevolutionary cycle? Here's where that comes in. Yes, collapse can be a nightmare, but it also presents new possibilities. If we were more conscious of the thresholds we have already crossed, we might think differently about the next iteration of the global economy. Humans can always cross a threshold of their own making and decide to live differently. Unrestrained growth, after all, was never a prerequisite for health, happiness, equity or justice.

What would an end to separation from nature and from each other feel like? How might it be expressed daily and in policies that are both liberating and intelligent? The renewal phase that is dawning even now urges us to answer these questions.

This much is clear. Our external world is merely the manifestation of an internal state of mind. The problem is not global warming, soil degradation, water scarcity, extreme weather events, or ocean acidity. It is not even all of these combined. The real issue is how we think about ourselves in relation to nature. That is what we need to change.

If we want to avoid endless hardship, conflict and ecological catastrophes, we must become ecologically literate – and deeply so. The future is, you might say, too big to fail. Which is why developing a new literacy of regenerative praxis is so important and why there is so much to learn from nature itself.

Regenerative practices derived from nature, like permaculture, rewilding and holistic grazing, are at once an admission of our inability to solve problems independently of others (divorced from the environment that is the support system for all life on this planet) as well as a solution staring us in the face.

Albert Einstein famously said that we cannot solve the problems we have brought on ourselves by using the same cognition that created those problems. He was right but we have yet to agree!

Adaptive literacies can help us to shift to higher levels of consciousness from which to comprehend the more critical issues facing us. They are about inquiring together into the motivations and values that compel us to act in ways that are self-destructive, while instituting policies to change these. They are about changing our innate cultural guidance system so as to wean us off waste, greed, profligacy and excess – installing frugality, responsibility, resilience and sustainability in their place. And they to do with becoming sufficiently literate to act in time to avoid crashing through thresholds that promise only further uncertainty and risk.

A Collision of Worldviews

In October 2019 I was invited to speak at a private function in Shanghai - a city where I always feel among friends. The audience was a mix of party and city bureaucrats, senior academics, journalists and entrepreneurs, including one of the founders of Tik Tok. My talk was supposed to focus on the future of China within Asia. Given the luxury of three hours for our conversation however, it was inevitable that I would veer off track and follow my usual habit of provocation, particularly when asked to comment on the escalating trade war with the US.

At the subsequent dinner, where I was guest of honour, I was somewhat taken aback when a high-ranking party official challenged my views as being too lenient on the impacts of Chinese domestic policy, and my criticism of the US far too harsh. This was from a person I know well, who trusts my analysis, is intensely self-critical, and is daily enmeshed in high-level dialogues.

I left the reception that night feeling bemused. Was I allowing prejudice to colour my analysis? Were my predictions about the most likely outcomes of the trade war way off the mark when  identical views, rigorously researched and similarly expressed just weeks before to a very well-informed group in Los Angeles, met with unreserved agreement?

It got me thinking.... Events slithering on the surface of our awareness are often misleading, as are the semiotics of images embedded within ideologically-constructed narratives. Not only that but objective analysis is made far more complicated today by the propensity to broadcast fake news. It is simple to persuade people to believe one thing when they are actually viewing something different. Thus, most people will be easily convinced they are seeing indisputable proof of Chinese abuses of Uighur Muslims if they are shown video footage, repeatedly told it is that, and are inherently inclined to believe anti-China narratives. It is impossible to know the truth in these circumstances without access to the source documents and validation that these have not been tampered with or altered. In fact it is easier to believe the pervasive narrative originating from those we know personally, or are told we can trust.

As I suggested recently, in a piece called Nothing Is What It Seems, not everything we read, see or hear can be believed. I returned from Shanghai determined to interrogate my personal biases far more methodically in the future before making any more predictions about China-US relationships.

The clash of civilizations was a thesis proposed by the American political scientist Samuel P. Huntington in a 1992 lecture. His research concluded that contradictory cultural and religious factors would become the most likely source of conflict between the superpowers in the post-Cold War era.

At the time this seemed unlikely. Other scholars took issue with Huntington's conclusions, mainly because they ran counter to the official narrative and information at the time. Today's tectonic power shifts, buffeted by additional disruptive factors, are generating an implicit crisis in which Huntington's thesis deserves to be re-examined.

At a surface level, this crisis is exemplified in the deteriorating relationship between Beijing and Washington over trade and human rights, as both nations jostle for global hegemony and the ownership of radically new digital technologies. On this basis alone Huntington's research would probably assume an imminent confrontation between the predominantly theological world-system set within occidental cosmology, as typified by Cartesian logic, scientific realism, and free market neoliberalism, and a secular sinic culture interpreted around Confucian ideals by successive Chinese leaders. I do not for one minute think it is as simple as that, although surface events are certainly a factor. I am far more concerned with what lies hidden under the surface of our perceptions.

In many respects US perceptions today are strangely unchanged from those expressed during the cold-war with the Soviet Union. Rules of exceptionalism and righteousness, and the fervent synthesis of a desire-faith on the part of the US that economic and military power puts them in a paramount position to protect the world from those who would seek to destroy democracy, still stand. At first tacit, but increasingly bellicose, this strategy has underpinned American foreign policy for at least the past 75 years.

The cold-war between the US and Soviet empires was one of ideology, mostly aggravated by speculative intolerance. Since then, ideology has been the unifying motivation behind every conflict involving the US - from Korea and Vietnam to Iraq, Yemen, and the numerous proxy conflicts being fought today.

But in spite of the continued preservation of conjectural inaccuracies from many observers in the West, fueled by the propaganda from Western media, China has no ideology to speak of, no religion, and certainly no official moral code that would accord with occidental beliefs. It does have an ancient past, however, in which dynastic values and familial modes of relating are inculcated.

Whereas in my experience Chinese views about the West are relatively discerning, Western views about China are quite often distorted, driven by a broad anti-China sentiment than by any kind of pragmatic analysis. China is no more socialist today than the Pope is agnostic, only slightly more militaristic than Belgium, Spain, or Canada, and no more ambitious for its civic society than almost every developed nation.

Nor is it particularly helpful to dwell on respective military capabilities - though that remains a fixation for mostly uninformed commentators. Since the US was founded in 1776, it has been at war for 214 out of the 235 years of its existence - on various fronts for the past six decades. During that time, in spite of its inability to actually win any conflict it started, the US has built up an arsenal of conventional and nuclear weapons larger than any other country, spends more on its armed forces than China, Russia, France and England combined, and maintains nearly 800 military bases in over 70 countries and territories abroad.

Putting aside recent incursions along the long-disputed Galwan Valley border with India - an opportunity to exert new tactics provided by the COVID-19 smokescreen - Chinese territorial ambitions are very limited by comparison. Patiently playing a lengthy waiting game, Chinese goals have been achieved by relatively peaceful means, and without the benefit of Hollywood movies to reinforce soft diplomacy.

Surprisingly though, neither the US or China are among the most militarized. While China is currently ranked 87th in global rankings, the US barely makes it into the top 30 of militarized nations. That prize goes to other countries like Israel, Singapore, South Korea and Russia.

So, if it is no longer ideology or military competition, what are the real points of provocation between these two great nations? Is it as Huntington imagined? The answer is embedded in diverging civilisational models - one advocating a distributed market economy based upon individualism, the other pursuing a centralized model of state capitalism aimed at benefitting the whole of society. Closer scrutiny reveals flaws in both models. The collapse of neoliberal economics is happening in full view in countries like the US and Britain, whereas weaknesses in the autocratic Chinese model are less visible because of strict state media controls. But that does not mean they do not exist.

Occasionally perceived differences do conceal some unanticipated correspondences. While authoritarianism exists in both China and the US, for example, there are significant variations. In China it has been used to advance self-confidence and social harmony, marred in part by the CCP's approach to ethnic minorities, on the back of a highly submissive communitarian culture. In the US, where it masquerades as a devotion to entrepreneurship and individual liberties, it has led to increasing division, hatred, corruption, and gun-toting craziness.

In technology, too, there are more similarities than not. Surveillance, for example, operates in both the US and China. In the US, like almost every other activity, it is applied to the creation of wealth. Many of our perceptions and choices are shaped by algorithmically-curated marketing which nudges us in directions favoured by those who employ the programmers who write the code. This leads to misinformation, a dumbing down of society, and belief bubbles that help fortify current prejudices.

In China, AI-enabled surveillance technologies are used to monitor and manage the society. Facial recognition is able to dispense social credits for good behaviour, facilitate improved traffic flows, and eliminate petty street crime. While most people in the West are concerned to depict such realities as being lifted from an Orwellian nightmare, for most Chinese citizens this policy imparts a feeling of public security and safety.

Since the era of Deng Xiaoping the Chinese leadership have abided by the dual approach of engaging in international openness while policing domestic subservience to the state. Due to this policy China has imported remarkable amounts of knowledge, mainly through a diaspora of students who choose to study in the West but return to live in China generally unmoved by liberal values. In this way China has become affluent while remaining impervious to Western influence - its guiding principles unaffected by overt criticism. US strategy, on the other hand, is invariably captivated by financial opportunities - methodically exporting manufacturing and jobs to China, doing deals whenever a few cents could be saved, yet always in the realisation there were no vexing health and safety constraints to deal with. These two approaches depict a clear divide between the quest for societal progress and the pursuit of financial liberalism.

The sharing of power works as long as certain key factors remain stable. Most importantly an understanding of how hegemonic power works to sustain mutual interests is crucial. If or when an hegemonic power becomes overly confident, convinced of the stability and durability of its hegemony, they risk losing it. The US is teetering on the edge of that cusp today.

Mutual tolerance and trust are imperatives in this regard of course. Although the US and China are still joined at the hip economically speaking, and it is in their best interests to preserve amity, dual threats have emerged that could threaten this equilibrium - particularly given how quickly perceptions in the field of international relations can morph in a bizarre fashion.

First, even though global superiority is still feigned, the occidental world-system is becoming unhinged, a bureaucratic mess of competing interests that constantly patches up the present, lacks a long-term vision, is hostage to corporate capital, and destroyed any moral authority it might have had on 6th and 9th August 1945. The presidency of Donald Trump and the ways in which the COVID-19 pandemic has exposed and exploited cracks in Western society, have merely accelerated this collapse.

Second, the rise of Xi Jinping must be put into the context of a fragile global environment. Sensing an opportunity to immortalize his celebrity, President Xi has maneuvered himself into a paramount position of authority, stifled dissent within the party, and set a course for the nation to benefit from the disruption and turbulence that will characterize the coming decade. Convinced China can prevail against any odds, a legacy of patience has fallen to precipitous action. This raises the stakes with the US and could yet become a massive miscalculation.

Although the US appears to be on the brink of civil conflict, its economic and military strength is not to be trifled with. History demonstrates that empires often strike out wildly in their death throes, and US views regarding China's expansionism extend far beyond the ultra right-wing hawks in the Republican party. The Pentagon has elaborate plans for a nuclear war with China, and with evangelical fanatics like Secretary of State Mike Pompeo in charge, we must assume that preparations for such a war are already taking place.

The next three years could be an incendiary period if China persists on its current trajectory. Many countries are trying to hedge, but the scope for neutrality is narrowing. Meanwhile any ability to navigate between the US and China is becoming harder each day. Sooner or later they will be forced to take sides. Regrettably, rival power blocs were a late 20th century experiment can will not work in today's context.

Allowing for the fact that a democracy of humanity, rather than a jumble of competing states, exists in a fantasy between wishful thinking and an empty promise, and assuming capitalism can be reformed and democracy purged of its corruption, a wiser move from the West would be to embrace China's traditional aspirations while denying President Xi his more perverse demands kindled by delusions of self-glory.

For that to happen the US and its allies must avoid regarding today's situation as a replay of the cold-war with the Soviet Union. They would need to rediscover their civilisational impulse, be more open to a distributed world order, drop their demands for an economic decoupling while eliminating all belligerent rhetoric against China, and help to craft a narrative that makes peace between all nations not just possible but the most compelling proposition.

In the meantime China will need to reconsider its political ploys in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Tibet, Taiwan and the South China Sea, so that US-China rivalry does not continue to escalate.

We are fast approaching a geopolitical inflection point. It began when Donald Trump decided to launch a popularity contest against China without fathoming out a strategy for managing the fallout. It is estimated that around 20 percent of the world population would be willing to join an anti-China alliance. But the rest are not. Emerging markets in particular do not consider this a practical proposition.

Should the US try to inhibit China’s legitimate rise, or China seek to build an exclusive sphere of influence across Asia, the two countries would further deepen the global divide and begin a sequence of altercations that could last decades or end in disaster for humanity as a whole.

As the Italian Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci correctly stated when reflecting on a previous interregnum: The old world is dying, and a new one struggling to be born. Now is the time for monsters.

Nothing is What it Seems

Nothing is what it seems, which is why I routinely interrogate my every thought and belief. To be capable of seeing the truth we must first shed all of the accrued garbage within our minds. And in my case, there is much to discard, as will no doubt be evident from what follows...

The narratives upon which we rely to make sense of the world are fast crumbling. It is almost impossible to determine the current status and trajectory of the human story. Now more than ever, we are aware that our civilisation is in trouble, and on a number of fronts. But it is difficult to comprehend what is actually going on. There are three main reasons for this:

1. An incumbent elite, individuals of affluence and influence who own the media, content curation and data analysis firms, smokestack legacy corporations, a few politicians and, in some cases, the judiciary - are manipulating how we make sense of everything that is happening in our world to their own advantage.
2. A combination of surveillance and curated content is used to manipulate instincts and social behaviour. This smudges perceptions, blinding us to the realities of our situation to such an extent that it is impossible to get a reliable bearing on just where we are.
3. Everything we took to be constant is in a state of flux and uncertainty. One outcome is that we, the general public, serfs in the grand scheme of wealth creation and socio-political game-playing, have not yet realised that our trust in this powerful elite is ill-advised and unwarranted - that we are being callously gamed.

If we did fathom out what was going on at a deeply metaphysical level, the ensuing outrage would be sufficient to fuel rebellion. I can imagine people all around the world rising up in defiance of authority, using the sheer strength of numbers to overthrow the established order in fury at such a grievous deception.

We take no action because we are confused - still trusting those with power or wealth to act in our favour and on our behalf. Instead, we remain cocooned in a comatose state of indigence and naïve lethargy.

To be fair most wealthy individuals, along with those in positions of power, probably believe they are helping to build a better society and might be confused by any criticism levelled at them. More often than not they are convinced their wealth gives them the right to influence elected officials and government policy, that the fortune they acquire is thoroughly deserved, and that it will eventually trickle down to the rest of us in the form of jobs, increased economic activity, greater inclusiveness, and philanthropic largesse. This “trickle-down” theory originally started as a joke by humorist Will Rogers. Today it expresses a naïve faith in the virtue of those wielding economic power and in the workings of the prevailing economic system, although it has never been confirmed by the evidence.

Not having yet caught up with these facts it should come as no surprise that the more affluent members of society continue to agitate for tax cuts to assist economic growth – even though in practice these policies perpetuate inequality and intensify the inherently oppressive nature of economic stratification. 

The apparatus of oppression in ostensibly democratic societies includes the weaponization of fear, threats of unemployment and privation, unprovoked discrimination, the need to comply with officialdom, pointless work, and differing forms of propaganda - much of it xenophobic in tone. While these instruments have been commonly used to repress freedom of thought and insurgency, mostly covertly, the brazen use of strong-arm policing tactics is becoming the preferred approach as a more sentient public reacts to authoritarian abuse by state actors.  

Naturally this automatically exposes the intentions of those in authority to continue their exploitation, larceny, coercion, cheating and deception, all the while engaging in disastrous environmental destruction, the stockpiling of armaments, and waging endless wars for no valid reason other than to preserve and expand their power.

How can we allow this to endure when it threatens individual health and wellbeing as well as the survival of the human family? Is it because we lack the will or capability to confront power? Or is it because we have been so utterly misled that we no longer see any valid alternative? I suspect it is a combination of both factors.

The former makes sense in terms of the monotony and drudgery we are willing to accept in return for money, without which even the basic necessities of life, such as housing, warmth, food, health, learning, information, and even respect, are unobtainable. The latter amplifies this dilemma by ensuring that the mainstream narrative is based on scarcity and competition.

Maintaining the illusion of austerity and struggle is vital – as is allegiance to the status quo. This is feasible by managing the information used to sustain the narrative. In contemporary society the control of such propaganda is most commonly exercised through the ownership of mass media, funding research projects and think-tanks, advocating censorship, or purchasing the loyalty of shady politicians.

The results are undeniably impressive yet - ominous. For example, we are told that we live in a free society where anything is possible for those who work hard. We are assured that life is getting better for most people around the world and that Western aid is responsible for that. We are taught to be loyal and to view other cultures with suspicion. We are cautioned that those who do not share our values are a threat to our way of life. And we are then cajoled into embracing conflict as the most natural reaction to that threat. From the cradle to the grave we are persuaded to believe wealth matters far more than health and wellbeing, and that striving for greater affluence is the most virtuous of goals. Furthermore, we are constantly reminded that compliance with these beliefs is an accurate metric of normalcy.

These are all deceptions of one kind or another. But is there any escape from this noise and all the organized racket that dominates our waking hours? How can we find the mental space and peace of mind to evaluate the endless string of stories we tell ourselves, and each other, about what is happening in the world more dispassionately – searching for empirical evidence rather than the self-opinionated articles of faith from Google graduates? How can we ensure that the lies are impossible to suppress?

Perhaps this is already happening. Certainly, the dominant narrative is breaking down in ways that are startlingly unexpected - yet exhilarating. Old ways of understanding what is going on are not working, which is why we are confused. Trust in the most venerable of our institutions is in a nosedive, often with good reason. Confidence in the mass media, too, is at rock-bottom. Meanwhile we are fast reaching the limits at which we can cope intellectually and emotionally with the changes we ourselves have initiated and are also feeling helpless to control the tools we are unleashing.

Few can deny this is an opportune moment for a fundamental re-envisioning of society and a rebalancing of the world order. The case for a thorough forensic examination of our shared worldview - the civilisational model upon which all human activity is predicated - and the subsequent crafting of a new narrative that makes better sense of the human condition, is compelling. For the first time, armed with hindsight, and using the extraordinary technologies we have fashioned, we have an opportunity to construct a new society from first principles.

Whatever the future holds for our species, the COVID-19 experience and the year 2020 will be permanently etched into our consciousness. The wildly impulsive responses we have taken to this plague which, for some countries, has resulted in the suspension of all economic activity; the anxiety, fear, bewilderment, and emotional turmoil generated from social distancing and lockdown restrictions; mixed responses to the epidemiological and medical science; and the proliferation of conspiracy theories and increasing numbers of individuals who refuse to comply with laws aimed at halting the spread of the disease, is seeing to that.

Hidden within the news of increasing infections, deaths, and morbidity rates, however, new possibilities are surfacing. An outbreak of compassion and collaboration between nations and across time-zones, occasioned by our interconnectedness, is proliferating. Within the stillness offered by the disease is an hiatus sufficient for us to take stock of our purpose and direction, giving us a chance to reflect deeply on what matters, and to decide if we want to go back to a grasping, iniquitous, everyone-for-themselves culture, within which even the survival of other species depend on the whimsical decisions of imaginary constructs - such as the nation state, Google, Facebook, and the World Bank - or invent something entirely distinctive.

Our collective future must surely result from a process of cooperative design. A future that is more desirable and sustainable than anything we have experienced thus far can be generated by a combination of new tools and practices driven by a totally new mindset guided, too, by a comprehensive appreciation of history and of our limitations.

For that process to lead anywhere other than back to detrimental economic conditions and toxic habits, we will need to reprogram the socio-genetic code that strands us on an island where we are complicit in seeing and interpreting the world, and our role in it, as comprising:

• the biosphere as an infinite cache of physical reserves available for extraction to the highest bidders
• people as little more than objects to be instructed, traded, coerced and exploited within the system of industrial production.
• a cutthroat quest for scarce material assets in which there will inevitably be winners and losers

If we are able to take such a giant leap of consciousness, and that is by no means guaranteed, we might then be open to repairing the harm we have inflicted upon each other from a range of tenets we still take for granted and that are so destructive. Such as, for example:

• the accrual of material artifacts and financial wealth is the pinnacle of human ambition
• the sub-optimal design of our most life-critical systems is legitimate and unavoidable
• that in-built obsolescence and other ways to swindle customers is justified in order for a business to remain profitable
• that some human beings are inherently inferior and less deserving than others
• that people must labour to earn a living even when such work is pointless, and when machines are capable of taking on tedious routine tasks
• that personal data is not a human right and can therefore be legitimately owned and sold by a company irrespective of an individual’s wishes
• that government budget surpluses are a sign of good economic management
• that competition is the natural order while empathy, cooperation and tolerance are signs of frailty deserving of exclusion and derision
• that the power wielded by nation states as autonomous sovereign entities gives them the permission to do exactly as they please regardless of any negative environmental and human impacts

A new society is possible based upon precepts that are viable, aligned to changing realities, and are wise, engaging, culturally respectful and morally responsible. It only requires us to jettison what is no longer working for humanity as a whole, and to re-imagine new ways of being in balance with nature’s laws.

For example, we could become less focused on individual rights and more concerned with appreciating, respecting and preserving the human family as a whole. Less obsessed with rebooting the economy than reevaluating and renewing our morals. Less about reverting to business-as-usual stereotypes than reinventing obsolete commercial principles. Less about harvesting profits from scarcity than spreading and sharing the abundance we see all around us. Less about nationalistic protectionism and more about enlightened globalisation and mutual support.

These shifts represent a more informed balance between the state, representing collective enterprise, and the citizen accepting individual responsibility but balanced by a civic duty to hold the state and our most venerated institutions to account.

There are signs that such shifts could already be occurring - that our collective consciousness is going up by degrees and that we are awakening to the reality previously hidden in full view. For example, spontaneous collaboration can be observed in the many ways we are adapting to new lockdown protocols.

Although the fabric of international commerce is founded upon competitive rivalries, with new products protected by patent law, the urgency and unfamiliarity underpinning the current pandemic, together with the degree to which we are all connected these days, is resulting in cooperation between scientists and nations, and rapid, real-time, collaboration across time-zones, which is unprecedented. Within 90 days of the coronavirus outbreak, an extraordinary 250 therapies were in various stages of development. In a month or so, we are likely to have over 40 or more different cures and vaccines that are already in clinical trials. Companies are reinventing themselves, offering new services, and anticipating volatility in the demand for their products. Some countries are sending medical supplies and staff to assist life-saving efforts.

Clearly, we cannot expect this new ethos to continue, nor to become anywhere close to being business-as-usual, if we are constantly looking over our shoulders and wanting the world to be the same as it used to be. Nostalgia for the past is deceptively alluring. But a liar nonetheless. And while we must provide for ourselves and our families, we also need to work for the greater good if we are to stay in balance with nature.

In the case of a coronavirus vaccine, the next step in our dance towards a regenerative and cooperative consciousness might be to circumvent Big Pharma companies profiting from the research altogether, ensuring treatments are made available to everyone as commons-owned assets. That modest act would signal our intention not to keep serving the vested interests of an industrial age mindset and habits.

We can do the same with education. By shifting away from the 180-year old production-line philosophy, with its emphasis on outmoded standards and pedagogy, and by reinventing learning from the point of view and pace of the individual student and their context, we can avoid returning to the physical familiarity and comforts of the school campus. Much the same can be claimed for other critical systems, including public health, work design, urban planning and public transportation, construction, logistics, journalism, governance, energy generation and distribution, automotive, real estate and agriculture.

We know that societal systems like these cannot change from within given the gravitational pull of the existing paradigm. Although the practical impacts from implementation are always disconcerting, and can continue to reverberate for years, the only considered input needed is a shift of mindset – from one of scarcity to abundance and from rivalry to cooperation. Indeed, this is inevitably the crux of the issue when any kind of transformative change is proposed.

It is why paradigmatic change relies on novelty rather than the tweaking of the current system. It is why disruptive innovation evolves from the edge rather than the current centre of gravity. And it is why it is always easier to create a new model that makes the old one obsolete than to exert effort trying to expunge the existing paradigm. So, let us start by reframing possibility in a shift from the scarcity mindset to one of abundance.

Scarcity and rivalry are ingrained within contemporary praxis. They both start with constraints, while abundance and cooperation offer new opportunities. Scarcity and rivalry encourage zero-sum thinking, whereas abundance is about plenitude and sufficiency. Scarcity and rivalry market secrecy and unethical behaviour as competitive advantage, whereas cooperation and abundance champion partnerships for the greater good. Licenses and patents are examples of scarcity thinking. Open source, commons, and peer-to-peer approaches are abundance in action.

A word of caution if I may. There will always be companies that disrupt the competition as well as entire industries, but that do not live up to any higher moral aim. AirBNB, Uber, and Netflix are cases of how disruptive innovation can result from the clever exploitation and leverage of abundance. None of them, I hope, would claim to make the world a better place for greater numbers of people. Why? Because their underlying values and calculations are still dominated by aggressive competition with the singular aim of market growth and profitability.

There are many lessons to be learned from the disruptions we are experiencing from COVID-19 of course. Live a simpler life. Do not take from the earth what you do not need. Shift from a competitive to a collaborative lifestyle. Work from home when you can. Understand that front-end schooling is not a substitute for life-long learning. Trust only what you can validate. Grow and buy goods locally. Save energy wherever possible. Reduce, reuse, and recycle whatever you can to avoid waste. Democratize the economy. Engage with others around what really matters.

There are many others of course that make going back to what used to be business-as-usual a travesty to anybody other than those vested interests that were happy to feed off our naivety.

While the way ahead is uncertain, reverse gear is not an option. Whichever path we choose we are bound to encounter transitional problems. And, as always, in order for our sense of moral community to expand and endure, the more difficult challenge will be to ensure the lessons of the past are not forgotten, and that new behaviours are sustained and cherished.

With climate change, a continuing loss of biodiversity, new pandemics, economic upheavals, geo-political tensions, mass migrations, and the rise of neo-fascist regimes, we have mounting emergencies to deal with, in addition to the substantial changes required to tame tribalism, predatory practices, prejudice, injustice and discrimination.

This will cost money. Lots of money. In order for our reserves to exceed the current rate of consumption, instead of the other way around, we will need to reimagine the fundamentals of our economies so that all life is ascribed inherent value, and measures like Gross Domestic Product [GDP] are seen for what they are – relics of another era. We have witnesses how some nations can be flush with funds, while descending into disrepair and despair because that money is earned by destroying everything that is genuinely meaningful - from jobs to trust, relationships, health and wellbeing, happiness, personal savings, and freedom.

Only when we can imagine a different kind of economics will we be inclined to allocate the estimated $20-30 trillion that will be needed to combat the perfect storm of existential crises facing us today. Only when we have a different kind of politics will we be able to heal rifts across artificially-created social divides. Only when we develop metrics that focus on well-being, wholeness, mutuality, reciprocity, kindness and reconciliation, in contrast to things that are broken, fragmented or disintegrating, will we be able to truly understand the measure of our success as a species.  And only when we can envisage a different social order will we be free to comprehend the human condition, reconcile our differences peacefully, communicate openly, and generate a more inclusive and expansive understanding of human purpose.

In the end we will only be able to reassemble the brittle husk of our humanity by facing our most dire threats together. Using surveillance, the force or arms, or decrees from those in provisional authority will not hack it. Ultimately, we will adopt cooperation and abundance as the basic elements in a new narrative for the alternative is to perish as a civilised society.

Litanies

1. Memories

Old age brings certain gifts, as long as we are open to receiving them. For me, one of these gifts is sudden and unexpected recollections from a past fast-receding from temporal view. Now and again, yet increasingly with each passing week, shards of memories long forgotten break surface with astounding precision. I am able to watch my past self with wrapt fascination. The pattern is always the same. A sound, scent, or some other sensation triggers a hiatus in what I happen to be doing. Nebulous mists clear to reveal vaguely familiar shapes before intimate details mob me and stop me in my tracks.

I had such an experience yesterday while watching a new movie. Greyhound tells the story of an inexperienced World War II US Navy captain, played by Tom Hanks, who must protect an Allied convoy of supply ships crossing the Atlantic Ocean while being stalked by Nazi U-boat wolfpacks. Towards the end of the movie Tom Hanks sinks to his knees, giving thanks to his God that he and his crew survived the ordeal. Instantly I realised what I was viewing was a mirror of a long-buried childhood experience.

Having embraced Buddhism at the age of 13, casting aside the doctrine in which I had been raised, I had also inadvertently purged most memories relating to that time. Only now I remembered...

Each evening as a child my mother taught me to pray on my knees to her Christian God. A kindly soul by all accounts, but one who stubbornly refused to make himself known to me. Nonetheless from the age of eight, whether at home or in the school dormitory, I knelt and prayed. My petition was simple, and it was the same each evening. God, look after mummy. Make me a good boy. And if you see my daddy please tell him that I love him. Amen.

At that stage, you see, all I knew was that my father had suddenly vanished from my life. As my solitary idol, he left a vacuum that could never be filled. I would not discover the truth of what happened to him for another 37 years - after I received a letter. A hand-written note, barely legible in an unschooled scrawl. A note from a stranger. My father. In the note an awkwardly expressed affection, along with an intimation he would like to see me.

The note arrived too late. I would not see my father again. There was no grieving at the news of his death. I had been through that torment decades before. There was no pain left. But the instant I realised how I used to pray so dutifully every day was shockingly poignant.

How did that daily ritual affect me? What good did my prayers do? Did they bring relief and comfort to my sorrow? Or did they simply prolong ingrained uncertainties? What bearing did the routine have on my state of mind and emotional development? Was it to blame for how I feel today about the covert menace of religious righteousness?

2. Righteous

I do not know. I cannot answer these questions. But there is another point to all of this. As a Buddhist, I try to live by tenets resonating from the spiritual praxis acquired throughout my life – particularly through grief. For me, this means tolerating those whose attitudes do not accord with mine – even when they detest me and everything I value. Humility. Doing what I can to be a worthy ancestor. Showing compassion for those who struggle. Mindful reflection preceding action. And a deep love for the sacredness of life. Not bad values to live by, and undoubtedly shared with many others.

Most importantly though, these tenets have taught me not to impose my beliefs on others. My credo is as simple as that childhood prayer. In spite of our heritage, acquired status, and superfluous titles, nobody enters this world any more or less inferior than anyone else. We are all born into conditions over which we have no control and very little influence. The only significant disparities between a monarch and a pauper are the inheritance of wealth, the delusions arising from that accident of birth, and deference shown by minions who hope to profit from their fawning behaviour.

What we are able to accomplish during our brief time here differs only inconsequentially. Expecting nothing in return for an act of kindness, offered in a spirit of generosity by a poor person towards a stranger, or from a child to an elder, is worth far more than a truckload of philanthropic dollars distributed by billionaires who want to feel good, look good and, if possible, get a tax break.

Eventually, we are all condemned to an end-game over which there can be no appeal. I have no right to judge others when I cannot read their story, feel their suffering, appreciate their circumstances, or truly put myself in their shoes. To do so is old-style hubris.

3. Hubris

Yet business schools still happily churn out old-style managers who are constantly told to apply such hubris – based upon a plethora of conflicting excuses for why others should heed their wisdom and in the warped belief that their status bestows upon them the right to motivate others - or to inflict penalties when those they aim to inspire are insufficiently enthused.

Likewise, organisations managed by armies of freshly-minted MBAs still incorrectly assume that controlling people is as easy as applying statistical methods and software development routines to improve processes and manage projects. This is the industrial-military method applied uncritically. Indeed, even the most recent management fads are bound up with these mechanistic derivatives.

The imposition of pointless, mind-numbing, often humiliating work today is the result of such hubris, together with the continued fragmentation of knowledge that occurs when we continue to compartmentalize organisations for reasons of efficiency and control.

Up to 30 percent of all work can be sorted into categories where it is impossible to find adequate explanations for its existence. In fact, many jobs seem to be designed purely to keep us busy doing something. Anything!

And while technology has advanced to the extent that many jobs are superfluous, and a 15-hour working week is certainly feasible and has been proven beneficial in any number of experiments, the puritanical work ethos that demands we labour for 40 hours or more seems to be ingrained. The result is a plague of pointless drudgery in an ocean of unrelenting tedium.

4. Tedium

It is hardly surprising that such drudgery would lead to high levels of staff disengagement. The managerial feudalism that persists in so many corporations puts people off work and generates mental health problems. According to Gallup, only 13 percent of all employees find their work engaging. Meaningless work, inadequate resources, a chronic misuse of talent, and a lack of trust in management are the major causes of this disenchantment.

But if we examine the 20 percent who are actively disengaged, one major factor stares us in the face: it is the obstacles self-motivated and creative individuals face when taking the initiative, experimenting, or attempting to dispense with age-old protocols they know to be hindering productivity.

Irrespective of the industry, market, location, or size of the company hubris, together with the delusions of control or power arising from such vanity, invariably stand in the way of exceptional performance. Traditionally managed organisations will have none of this of course. Boards and senior executives operating within the mainstream corporate power structures get far too much pay, preening attention, and other incentives to contemplate changing their command and control mindsets.

Believe it or not, even when agile, adaptive, or navigational approaches are regularly used by the most shrewd and forward-looking enterprises, an unhealthy preoccupation with targets, critical success factors, performance indicators, and appraisals, as well as a host of other teeming distractions, can deter collaboration, hijack the learning metabolism, and compromise the productivity potential of the entire enterprise.

It is not difficult to eliminate tedium from any enterprise – assuming a flat structure where talented, self-motivated individuals can take risks, collaborate, and experiment. Indeed, many entrepreneurial startups are able to rapidly scale-up using liquid structures where the dynamic flows of information and activities, lightning-fast decisions, peripatetic teams, and fractal leadership, interact transparently.

Working for companies like Valve, Zappos, Tik Tok, Atlassian, Canva, Legal Monkeys, or Aurecon, for example, is intrinsically inspiring. In these open environments, purpose and passion drive effort while management simply morphs into collaboration. Work becomes a fearless, fluid adventure, where no one is there to tell you what to do or to reprimand you when you make a mistake. Of course, you might not think it sensible to inflict this kind of open structure in companies demanding the precise coordination of complex activities, such as an international airline, for example. But to impose management orthodoxies in organisations like those above would be an act of sheer folly.

5. Folly

The British physicist Steven Hawking asserted that greed and stupidity would be the downfall of humanity. Although I am hesitant to contradict such a proposition, I venture to suggest that love and compassion are the two things that might yet save us. Nevertheless, even that small step will require us to see things differently, accept new ways of relating to each other and nature, and develop a new moral consciousness.

Actually, the more haunting question for me is whether or not we Sapiens are wise enough to survive our own undeniable ingenuity and ability to endure. This was the question that provoked the founding of the Centre for the Future. It is a question that continues to preoccupy me.

Examples of extreme stupidity are all around us of course, but none more so than in the indefensible ways we choose to relate to each other and to nature.

Individuals can be very smart – such defines the spirit of entrepreneurship. And most entrepreneurs consult widely in order to scale their ideas collaboratively. But when even the most intelligent people get together in board rooms and parliaments, any collective wisdom we might have assumed can vanish in a confusion of ego, dogma, risk aversion, and a tendency to rebrand what is known rather than venturing into new realms of inquiry.

Part of our collective stupidity today derives from an innate self-confidence. Today this is boosted by our unprecedented capability, via social media, to connect with and to hear what everyone else is thinking. This coupling can lead us into situations where it is easy to assume our opinions are equally valid to others - even when it is not based on verifiable evidence. For example, you might establish your views about climate change on scientific data from a panel of experts, whereas I have simply adopted the opinion of a celebrity I happened to see on television who gave me the impression he knew what he was talking about.

When emotionally amplified, this coupling of confidence with connectivity can also give rise to situations in which we are either offended or outraged. That too is a problem because both emotions open us up to easy manipulation and there are always unscrupulous people ready to take advantage of that.

Certainly, it is the case that stupid, outraged, or easily offended individuals are far more convinced of the accuracy of their views than smarter people who tend to sustain doubts and uncertainties. Moreover, because of our predilection for educating by fragmenting knowledge to fit highly specialized work structures, rather than the other way around, we have created conditions that amply demonstrate the hazards inherent in allowing this to continue.

Take science, for example, which is one of the best ways we have of understanding the world in which we live. Science is inevitably provisional, as is truth. Yet stupid people seek certainty in science. Once having found their truth, they then latch onto it with unwavering passion.

This penchant many of us have developed for trusting our instincts over objective data partially explains why incumbent plutocrats find the conception of a world where conflict, wars, and other forms of violence exist, utterly acceptable. In their world, it is legitimate to bully the weak, rob the poor, threaten those with whom they disagree, and assassinate those whom they fear.

As for ordinary citizens like us, we have meekly tolerated this state of affairs. It endures because of our apathy. We stand idly by, paying no attention to constant warnings that the breakdown of our climate and the unravelling of so many natural ecosystems must be treated as a global emergency. We continue to elect corrupt and uncaring officials who stigmatize and stereotype the homeless and the poor as parasites and workers as lesser mortals. And all the time we put up with this, cocooning ourselves in a zone of delusion where our ultimate purpose is to own more and more stuff we do not really want.

In effect, we are all contributing to a world in which the gradual emaciation of any moral or spiritual imperative is becoming normalized.

6. Normal

Normalcy is in the news – as is talk of the “new” normal – whatever that might mean in what is already looming as a decade of disruption. Most public attention at the moment is focused on the current pandemic and speculation concerning a “post-pandemic” world. Given the likelihood of further, potentially highly virulent outbreaks, from known and new viruses, I would have thought it highly imprudent to frame the short-term future in terms of a post-anything world!

Although the universal public response to COVID-19, rather than the virus itself, has led to the most fundamental socio-economic crisis experienced by our generation, it is still unclear as to what extent we will be able to carry on with life as usual - least of all what we should take with us, and leave behind, from that period prior to the outbreak when so many of our life-critical systems were already beginning to stutter and fail.

What the coronavirus is doing in such spectacular fashion is to reveal the deep fault-lines and systemic fragility existing in the world we have carefully crafted. It is as though nature has given us this virus as a dress rehearsal for what we might expect going forward – the chance to bring a regenerative consciousness to bear on human activities.

Human brains possess a great deal of plasticity, so there is little doubt we can adapt to new circumstances once the fog has cleared, as long as conditions on the planet remain conducive to life. But too many of the current batch of politicians and industry leaders, eager to see a return to business-as-usual, remain trapped in the mental coordinates of a world that no longer exists. They yearn to return to the comfort of a familiar past, over which they assumed they had control.

The truth is becoming clearer each day that passes. The longer the current crisis persists, and much depends in that regard on how soon we acquire herd immunity or an effective vaccine can be invented, the greater the likelihood we will underestimate the damage being done to the social fabric of society and, as a consequence, the degree to which massive change will be required. Then again, if it is bad for more affluent societies, the potential collapse of all economic activity will be catastrophic for the least-developed, most vulnerable nations.

Critical questions, too, concern the nature of the emerging world order. Will we see the unravelling of financial and trade globalisation? Will national interests dominate? How will the international community treat an increasingly formidable yet intrinsically problematic China and a deeply divided US at the point of civil conflict? Will economic integration be a fading dream as the relatively free movement of people across national borders ceases?

And what about business? Will retail malls, the daily commute into the city office, the law firm, the schoolyard, and the university campus fade into the memory? If so will innovation be unleashed in sufficient amounts to replace these institutions and generate the dramatic improvements in productivity where it is actually needed? I must admit this speculation of massive change and its consequences is making me feel nostalgic for the world we might be leaving behind...

7. Nostalgia

Nothing is permanent of course. As we have seen, even science is ephemeral. Nostalgia is also a seductive liar. Attachment to the material world and old habits such as those briefly mentioned above are ultimately of little consequence. In the end, though, the manner in which we are able to deal with our various attachments shapes and defines us.

These days my attachment to material objects is declining in alignment with my pursuit of a more peaceful, less hectic, existence. Of course, that quest has been accelerated by the current pandemic. Even in this remote part of Thailand, it is impossible to escape the aura of fear that has us in its grasp. Here though I am surrounded by my art and music. To lose these would be a great sacrifice. My MacBook, too, has become the repository of ideas, feelings, and projects stretching back over two decades. I would not want to lose it. But if I did I would cope.

In terms of affiliation, the affection I feel for humanity and for this planet our home, grows stronger and more resolute each day, while a committed detachment from the deeds of greedy, powerful, individuals, and the ways in which they have designed systems for their own benefit, at least gives me the courage to do the work I do.

I think back on those memories of my childhood with growing affection. Even those that are cocooned in sadness and grief, like the loss of my father.

What I have found exceedingly difficult to deal with is my attachment to these memories along with some highly personal artifacts from the past. Many years ago, an entire collection of my music, which had been recorded over a period of seven years, and which had been left in trust with one of my children, disappeared. There were no copies. After the initial anger had subsided, and I managed to work through the grief and sense of personal loss, I felt as though a part of me had been rubbed out, leaving only a fading, blurred daguerreotype.

More recently I discovered several hand-written letters dating back half a century, were missing from an antique Chinese chest in which I keep original scores and other assorted memorabilia. There was a pen and ink letter from the poet Ted Hughes, for example, responding to my setting of his poems Eros and King of Carrion, from this book Hawk in the Rain, which had received its premiere at the Edinburgh Festival. And another very brief note from my teacher Nadia Boulanger to my mother, assuring her of my talent.

Such bits and pieces are irreplaceable. The sense of loss inevitably cuts deep, even when they remain intact in the memory and are assuaged through the lens of Buddhist practice.

Buddhism teaches us not to become too attached to things. Indeed, one of the four noble truths in Buddhist scriptures asserts desire and attachment to be the sources of so much dissatisfaction and suffering. I must confess that I still find this a difficult precept to live by and a dilemma I have constantly wrestled with. Most material possessions I found easy enough to discard. I never owned property until I was 70 years old, for example, though my fondness for books, contemporary art, and music scores provides me with the greatest joy imaginable. Old age certainly brings gifts in its wake. As long as we are still open to receiving them.

 

The Swimmer, The Fisherman, and the Deep-Sea Diver

Knowledge is the condition of understanding something which is personally meaningful, and potentially useful in some capacity. As such it is deeply subjective. What may count as knowledge for one sentient being may not have the same meaning for another. In other words, objective truth for you may not be the empirical truth for me.

Existing at differing levels of cognition and aptitude, knowledge ranges from autonomic information acquired both prior to and following birth, data absorbed on a second-by-second basis, mostly utilitarian in nature, that allows us to think and take action in real-time, information we discover through practice, intentionally and otherwise, and sudden insights or epiphanies that hold the deepest ontological meaning for us personally.

Although our society institutionalized learning in terms of front-end loading experiences as the basis for cognitive development, via models of compulsory schooling, for example, acquiring knowledge is a quest to which there is no end.

Most people feel uncomfortable using this definition of knowledge and not just because it signifies there can be no universal truth. The lack of certainty can be disturbing, especially when individual perspectives and practical experiences clash, thereby creating cognitive dissonance, or when bias enters the equation – which is actually most of the time.

Knowledge, along with knowing or not knowing, have been the source of most challenges facing the human species through the ages. We access knowledge in making decisions all day, every day - decisions that deeply impact our lives, and the lives of those around us.

Once we resolve more fundamental problems, like survival for example, and deal with the many trivial matters that occupy us, like how to spend our leisure time, whether to follow a religion or not, or when to embark on that new exercise regime, we are confronted by any number of more profound knowledge issues on numerous fronts - from figuring out who our real friends are, to what can be done to make the world a better place.

Today we live in a world of profound disruption, A world in transition between industrial models and practices and new, as yet unused, futures. Four learning-related hurdles stand in the way of assuring a positive metamorphosis and outcomes:

1. Habituation, satisfaction with the status quo, ennui concerning most forward views, and our linearly compressed experience of progress and time, have conspired to generate a crisis of imagination. It is not that we have lost our innate capability for transformative change, it is simply that we do not have the energy any longer, least of all the impulse to step into new ontological frameworks as the basis for change. It has all become too tiresome. And we have now come to deem it unnecessary.
2. Only now are we beginning to comprehend the complexity of a world in which we, as a single species or family, comprise myriad cultures, beliefs and truths. There is a need to act together, from a shared sense of unity and legitimacy. Unified action cannot derive just from an accrual of individual experiences. Rather, it must evolve in terms of our collective knowledge of the human condition, in its context, taking note of the need to embrace culturally distinctive viewpoints when interpreting or translating the emergent civilisational narrative. We are not set up, nor sufficiently organized, to achieve such unanimity. The urge to compete is a hindrance. It just gets in the way.
3. As we constantly fail to address the planetary crises impacting all 7.7 billion of us, it is becoming clear that the intellectual processes we use to enquire, reason, discuss decide, and act are insufficient for our needs - particularly given the complexity we have knowingly created. In some ways our capability to think and act expediently, and in harmony, has been surpassed by the digital intelligence we have invented. We might have reached the edge of our ability to solve wicked problems. If so, it is possible we are all in a cognitive gridlock from which we can only be released by using machine intelligence in conjunction with new methods for the renewal of our most ingrained belief systems. Resistance to this idea is common. Nobody likes to be told their thinking can be improved.
4. Our civilisation is comprised of a richly diverse milieu of cultures, values, and tribal mindsets. There are as many different epistemologies in this pluriverse as there are individuals. While such variety should be a cause for celebration, the ensuing lack of tolerance has resulted in conflict and war. The sad truth is that opportunities for each individual to express what it means to be human in their own inimitable way, conflicts with the desire held by those in authority to enforce universally-applicable societal standards, practices, laws and norms. Equally, while some form of global governance is essential in dealing efficiently with pandemics or climate change, for example, ordinary citizens object to the loss of state sovereignty this implies, which they mostly associate with feelings of patriotism and excessive national allegiance.

So, we are left with apathy, competition, a rebuttal of alternative thinking, and ingrained prejudice. If the future of the human project depends on the application of fresh insights and wisdom, this is hardly a great place from which to start.

Facing up to this evidence the question now becomes: How can we break free from those prisons of invention we have unknowingly assembled in order that ignorance and bigotry can be set aside?

Totalitarian-imposed governance might be one way. But even the many far right-wing-leaning autocrats in power today are repulsed by that proposition. They are not about to give away their hard-won authority without a fight. A reformed UN? Doubtful. Toothless tigers are one thing. But states are not yet ready to hand over sovereignty to a powerful global government with veto powers. A social grassroots revolution is equally unlikely. So where does that leave us? Hmm...

What if we are not looking in the most relevant spot? Sometimes it is not the façade that requires restructuring but fundamental practices. Morphological analysis of the rituals and procedures in an entity like the Australian parliament, for example, points to the need for a broadening and deepening of knowledge within the organisation - not another round of new, expensive, exterior changes that are unlikely to improve its overall effectiveness.

If, instead of ideologically-shallow parliamentary debate, we concocted a more nuanced discourse that allows for subtle shades of grey to emerge, how might that reframe public policy?

If instead of artefacts from the past staring down at company directors sitting in their leather chairs, board meetings were held in immersive visualisation environments, to what extent would the ability to simulate alternate strategic patterns aid ethical corporate governance?

And instead of an army of bureaucrats attempting to negotiate reductions in emissions at annual COP extravaganzas, why not commission one hundred of the world’s brightest to put their heads together - 50 men and 50 women across all generations and nationalities. By using an online stage like run-the-world, governments would be able to vote instantly on actionable policies instead of aiming at zero-net emissions by 2050.

Would that lead to more effective outcomes? The answer to all three of these questions is a resounding yes! We have ample proof. 

So instead of modifying existing international bodies or instituting new ones to assume existing roles and expand present-day operations in impotent entities like the UN or the WHO, perhaps we should firstly try to upgrade their cognitive capacity by supplying them with a range of new conversational methods and decision tools. There are many models from which to choose - including appreciative inquiry, integral theory, and causal layered analysis, for example.

One “soft” solution that warrants further investigation in this context is the new approach to structuring and processing cognition developed by Marvin Oka and myself for use by the Centre for the Future and its members.

I have always found it helpful to imagine the total expanse of human knowledge – past, present and possible – as an ocean in which different life forms co-exist, currents and tides generate motion and fluidity, and numerous external factors, such as the sun, moon and weather events, determine every granular detail - from salinity and heat, to erosion and hydrothermal vents.

Using the ocean as a metaphor we can examine the differing knowledge states that exist, or must be acquired, depending on your degree of interaction with the ocean. A swimmer will be conscious of the need for surface information, vital for staying safe and close to the shore. Tidal and other data will be used by fishermen using driftnets to steer them to the best locations. Deep sea divers, on the other hand, need a more complete picture of the ocean using sonar devices to map its topology, ecosystem dynamics, and the geology of the sea floor.

These three parties ask different questions of the ocean because they are motivated by a need for different information from which they can then make decisions. The same is true of any category of person requiring specific knowledge. Prior to any interrogation of data, and in order for any inquiry to be viable, we must know what kind of knowledge is called for, where we can find relevant information, how it can be verified, and what we can do if it is not available. That is where learning comes in.

In 1984 David Kolb described the experience of learning – an instinctive cycle we use in the course of an average day to make decisions, as the process whereby knowledge is created through the transformation of experience. Kolb identified four discrete stages: sensing a concrete experience; making sense of that experience by reflective observation; designing an appropriate response; and actively experimenting with those responses.

In 2010 Richard Bawden developed this basic model in his benchmark study of learning as a social system. Bawden’s seminal insight was that learning was a social function and was therefore intimately related to communities of practice and, consequently, of prime importance to those working in fields ranging from city development and agriculture, to education and public policy.

I found Bawden’s model inspiring and instantly set about integrating his model into my own parallel inquiries. The result was a conversational process I named Odyssey from its exploratory nature. Odyssey is a process predicated on the need to link experiential and conceptual states in order to improve and amplify possibilities in terms of design.

By tracing a recursive and iterative path between exterior and interior realities, invalid and misleading observations, in addition to obsolete assumptions, values and beliefs, can be exposed and transcended, new wisdom given legitimacy, and resilient systems designed around the intention to consciously evolve on the basis of whatever novel design criteria seem most appropriate.

On a more obvious level, Odyssey merges experiential learning about the external world of behaviours and systems (a cycle, as we have seen, comprising sensing, making sense, designing and enacting) with transformativelearning about the internal worlds of beliefs and cultures (a cycle of deconstruction, deep reflection, renewal and legitimation). This latter process would be more familiar to those working in community development or undergoing therapeutic counselling.

At this stage we began to talk about various ways of bringing data to life. We began to take Odyssey into immersive decision theatre environments where digital technology, together with high resolution imaging and augmented reality, allowed us to visualize complexity, play with dynamic patterns, and simulate foreseen and unforeseen consequences in alternative design fictions.

Although each discourse we curated at this stage was by far the most sophisticated I had personally encountered, we began to challenge the lack of other dimensions, particularly vis-à-vis time which was needed if we were going to step into new epistemes of inquiry.

At that stage we added a second infinity loop. Epiphany is the flow of macro-history from the present, via the present moment - which we refer to as the here and now - and out into potential futures. Epiphany delays (or interrupts) any impulse for action without adequate reflection. It achieves this through an exploration of past, present and possible issues and influences, from a variety of levels. As new narratives, literacies and practices evolve from this process the ideas themselves begin to express a paradigm shift to cultural renewal and conscious evolution.

Because the conversational space was already getting a little overcrowded at this stage, we imagined the two infinity loops intersecting at 180 degrees: Odyssey cycling from right to left in front of us, constantly ebbing between concrete and conceptual worlds, and an expanded “now” of consciousness – Epiphany - accelerating from the deep past, through our present point of alertness, and reducing speed as it flows in front of us into future decades and centuries. The importance of this added time dimension cannot be exaggerated: it had the dual function of speeding up our learning metabolism, from the inclusion of large-scale trends from the past, while simultaneously slowing it down in order to reflect on possible future patterns.

By now, we realised the power of the model was potentially unlike anything we had ever encountered in facilitated dialogue. It was creating an almost infinite conversational space in which we could forensically interrogate countless human activities, events, structures and decisions.

But there was still a missing piece to the puzzle - particularly in terms of morphological relations within and between various information domains. While it was always easy enough to talk about surface phenomena, especially those more easily observed, a lack of imagination and experience in using alternative contextual frameworks made it difficult for learners to transcend their own ingrained ontologies and epistemological preferences.

This missing morphological analysis we depict as an iceberg - which is why I started this essay in terms of oceans of knowledge. The iceberg is the central fulcrum on which both Odyssey and Epiphany loops are finely balanced. Try to imagine the entire conceptual structure floating in an ocean of possibility.

These two interwoven strands, poised on the morphological iceberg, bobbing around in an ocean of actual and potential knowledge, define four basic conversational domains. Topics within these domains can be examined from differing altitudes and through a variety of lenses. The most common of these are the interior-exterior and the individual-collective filters, derived from Ken Wilber’s integral theory, which I have written about extensively in describing the cycle of desire and consumption in which we are trapped.

Observable events appear in the tip of the iceberg. Our awareness of surface activity is often a distraction because we can only react to its presence. Yet most news items and policy formulation are attracted to this veneer. Everything happening below the surface is treated as a lower risk, when in fact, the deeper one dives, the greater meaning can be found. In the knowledge ocean, the fisherman will see patterns that he must anticipate and the tidal dynamics that can lead to an improved understanding of where to find the fish. But only the deep-sea diver, cocooned within a mini-submarine exoskeleton, can truly grasp the secret subterranean crevices and mysterious life-forms that occupy the deep.

This symbol of the iceberg, with the bulk of the structure hidden under the water, points to levels of knowledge and related understandings that will be needed if we are to find adequate solutions to certain problems – depending on their closeness to the surface of our awareness. It also indicates the kind of action we might take given the kind of inquiry we are able to conduct. And it implies the degree to which we can alter and shape more fundamental aspects of the human condition, if we have a mind to.

By their very nature, global-scale socio-economic and political transitions demand the ability to create new knowledge, then use that knowledge to turn conversations that matter into actions that make a difference. Discourse that is radically honest, courageous, expansive and out-of-the-box. Discourse that take you in surprising directions and that opens up entirely novel possibilities.

Sadly, strategic discourse of this kind is mostly missing in organisational and public life at a time when it is most needed. Organisations from local and state governments to the UN and WHO are trapped in a cognitive gridlock. Unable to break through this threshold they continue to use politically-correct, time-honoured practices, including routines that make matters far worse. This is why these organisations, founded in less chaotic times, albeit with good intentions, have reached the limits of their capacity to solve humanity’s most existential problems.

This method, which we call the Wayfinding experience, is by no means the only solution that has been developed to help reframe cognitive, discursive and design activity. Nor is it recommended for investigating complicated phenomena. It is tricky to curate and taken out of context can be confusing. In practice a little knowledge can so easily overshadow the flow of free dialogue that is essential for effective strategic design.

On the other hand, it is engaging and reveals complex structures with ease. The strength of the curatorial approach, unlike conventional facilitation, means that participants remain unaware of the varied processes informing the experience in which they are immersed. To them it is simply a richer than normal conversation that is challenging and enlightening. An alchemical experience that resonates in the memory only because it allowed them to be at once a swimmer, a fisherman and a deep-sea diver in an unexplored, previously unfathomable, knowledge ocean.

Naturally Speaking

In natural systems, physical matter flows in cycles. Nutrients from one form of life become food for another. Organisms live and die, eventually returning to the soil or the sea where the cycle starts again. 

During the industrial revolution, we invented a different modus operandi. Industrialised, or mechanised production, was an innovative, rational response, to an escalating population requiring sufficient quantities of food, and whose labour, in exchange for wages, allowed workers to buy goods from the new factories springing up at the time. This was the birth of the first phase of capitalism. 

In simplest terms, the same system persists today. But now we can appreciate the unanticipated consequences of its impact across a number of socio-economic spheres - particularly as it pertains to the ethos of ownership and organising in contemporary society. 

1. Making & Growing

Chemical, mechanical, and electrical means are consistently applied to the mass production and distribution of products, as well as the cultivation of food and food-stock for farm animals. But mechanised production is linear and extractive. It generates a great deal of waste, too, as raw materials are taken from the Earth and processed into food or used to manufacture goods. 

When we finish using any product we expect to throw what is left away. But there is no such thing as away – everything we do not want or become weary of owning, habitually ends up as refuse or waste.

While organic material like food decays quickly, most other forms of waste contain toxins and synthetic substances that decompose very slowly, continuing to contaminate and clog up the oceans and the rivers, the landfills, and the sewers, for decades if not centuries. 

It does not have to be like that. Biomimicry encourages the copying of complex patterns in nature - creating industrial ecosystems that are regenerative and restorative by design. Instead of creating waste in the process of using raw materials, natural systems reuse and recycle resources over and over again. If there is any waste, it is inconsequential. 

This is not a new idea. After all nature itself has been doing it this way for millions of years. It is not even a novel idea in terms of industry and agriculture. With additive 3D printing or so-called desk-top manufacturing, it is easy to fabricate products ranging from human organs to entire buildings with such precision that no surplus is left over. 

Likewise using regenerative farming methods, it is possible for local farmers to eliminate the use of pesticides, fertilisers, and herbicides, in the process of restoring soils, increasing yields, producing crops that are more nutritious than was previously the case with large-scale agribusiness methods, and encouraging insects and other forms of life to flourish.

A distinctly contemporary issue in this regard is the problem of electronic waste. Higher consumption rates of electrical devices, as well as shorter life-cycles driven by planned obsolescence, are contributing to a rapid buildup of electronic waste. At least 44.5 million metric tons of unwanted electronic debris - including battery-powered or plug-tethered devices such as laptops, smartphones, and televisions - accumulate in waste dumps each year. By 2030, that is projected to grow to around 74.7 million tons. Electronic waste often contains plastics, hazardous materials in smartphones, such as cadmium and mercury, and refrigerant chemicals, like chlorofluorocarbons, that can leach into water catchments. 

Little of this waste is recycled, although electronic debris represents a potential urban mine, containing valuable metals such as iron, copper, and gold, that can be recovered. The value of this e-waste was estimated at around $57 billion in 2019, only $10 billion of which was recycled. Where are the entrepreneurs when you really need them? Hidden away in the bowels of our corporations perhaps...

2. Relating & Organising 

Following the industrial revolution, the automated factory became the standard model for organising almost everything - from school classrooms, clubs, and prisons to corporations. Within this template hierarchies of individuals and teams ensured that processes could be standardised, and efficiency pursued at all levels of the establishment.

In the world of business, this quickly led to employees being used as human resources, to be mined primarily for their manual labour and latterly for their knowledge. A totally new industry appeared out of nowhere to manage these frequently impulsive and recalcitrant resources, and to impose at least the illusion of orderliness.

When measurements were instituted, in the form of cultural climate surveys, executives began to rue the fact that no structure imposed on workers appeared ideal. Most were suboptimal in some form, while some even caused staff to become actively disengaged.

Initially, the proposed band-aid was a mixture of sanctions and rewards. Metrics of every kind littered the industrial management landscape - from goals and objectives to key performance indicators, process efficiency dashboards, and retention targets. 

Gradually, smarter enterprises realised that organisations could do better by emulating nature – especially in terms of cycles, information flows, and aesthetics. Liquid forms of organising were adopted as a way of designing work to be more intrinsically motivating. Pointless work was eliminated. As the workplace became more flexible, recruits were invited to contribute to the overall goals of the enterprise as they saw fit, finding ways to shape the culture rather than being required to fit into a pre-existing "founders" mould.

Many large corporations still resist this way of organising of course. The myth of top-down control remains pervasive in organisations that assume restrictive practices are best, instruct staff to leave their individuality at the door each day, and impose a variety of controls and performance indicators on their staff in a constant battle to get ahead of the competition. 

3. Owning & Earning

The field that most owes its credentials to arcane theories is surely economics. At its core, the idea of exchange within an economic framework is quite straightforward. But, as with industrialized production and organisational design, we managed to complicate matters by intervening clumsily in what should be a simple set of transactions. 

By establishing discrete institutions to handle differing roles, introducing astute ideas like credit and debt, adding layers of complexity via tax and investment laws, and allowing the invention of impenetrable financial instruments, like derivatives and credit default swaps, for example, which few people really understand, we have managed to turn the economy into a factory-like global casino. This has trapped us in a prison where we are prevented from imagining anything better. Even the least radical ideas are pronounced contrary to the ethos of free markets, too expensive or counterproductive. 

Meanwhile, instead of growing the resilience needed to provide solutions in the face of major societal shocks, like the current pandemic for example, or the massive problems we will encounter as a result of global heating, economic orthodoxy insists on skipping from controlling inflation to maintaining price stability in a myopic dance of detailed fixation.

It is not as though innovative ideas for dealing with the new realities are impossible to find.  Beginning with Sweden’s Riksbank in 1668, central banks and their monetary policy tools have been available as lenders of last resort for centuries - specifically to provide financial markets with the liquidity needed in times of crisis. 

Nowadays it is not hard to imagine the fiscal equivalent – state-funded employers of last resort. Imagine this as a job-guarantee program, comprising a living wage and benefits package. Because there is always work to be done, it would become instantly available to anyone who wanted a job but was unable to find work in the private and government sectors. Especially in times of crisis. Such a scheme could be expected to eliminate unemployment and its associated cost burden, bolster self-esteem and mental health, and provide additional care and protection for local communities and the environment.

Likewise, a Carbon Bad Bank, established by the state to acquire and reassign stranded carbon assets from large fossil fuel corporations, thus leaving them with clean balance sheets for investing in renewables and associated products, is surely another idea whose time has come if we are truly serious about the rapid decarbonisation of the economy.

These few examples clearly illustrate how the crisis of imagination besetting us today can be overcome. But we need to move beyond the cognitive and emotional thresholds that keep us tethered to obsolete ideas or trapped in dispensable ideological compartments.

Nature can show us better ways. Nature is complex - meaning it is abundantly resilient, and its patterns easily replicated. Our tendency to make things more complicated than they need to be can be remedied by accessing complexity, designing our most life-critical systems in cycles and flows, using organising principles that are open and fluid, and thus avoiding the hierarchies and imposed artificiality of the industrial era and its practices.

My Pact with the Devil

For us billionaires it was always about playing and winning. Winning is the main game. And money - that goes without saying. While winning is our passion, money is our addiction. An adrenalin hit. We are good at winning, which is very fortunate for you. Although most of us inherited our wealth, you profited from how we used our capital to stimulate growth. Naturally our drive and acumen worked in your favour too. Let’s face it - you had an easy ride on the back of our generosity.

We discovered way back in the dark ages how we could win and keep on winning. The idea was astonishing in its simplicity. Those of us born into wealth very quickly worked out that the best way to control you, the earning classes, was to keep you happy. By producing all the material needs you could possibly want, and promising you even more, we lulled you into a false sense of bliss. I don’t wish to be rude, but the rest was a walk in the park.

By convincing you that you were free to live your dreams, most of you felt no need to object to those things my lot craved – like power and affluence. You overlooked our misdeeds - including tax avoidance practices we felt compelled to use now and again, and dodgy investments in media, weapons trading, drugs and gambling. Some very smart marketing campaigns even convinced you that we shared the same goals and were all in this for the same things. With hindsight that was a masterstroke.

It was how we got you toiling so assiduously while demanding more and more stuff you didn’t actually need or want. Increasing productivity became your goal, and capitalism the means of achieving it, simply because we told you this would fulfill your every desire. After that you were so distracted - busy looking to wherever we pointed - that nobody thought to challenge the illusion.

It didn’t occur to you that we were spinning a yarn to get us what we wanted. We knew trickle-down economics could not possibly work. But that was irrelevant as long as you believed us, and were able to wait patiently for your situation to improve, which you did. Similarly, the sum total of human activities cannot be compressed into a single measure. Think about how ridiculous that is. Yet you embraced the totally implausible notion of GDP being a suitable gauge of both wealth and wellbeing. You were easily hoodwinked.

It was not always that simple of course. Especially when smart-arse radicals like Karl Marx and Mao Zedong advocated more socialist views, pacifists like Gandhi opted for peaceful civil disobedience, and reformists like Mikhail Gorbachev threw a spanner in the works. It became even more difficult when some of you noticed our methods were crooked, our products made you sick, and that the economic arrangements we had so carefully devised and ingrained within your psyche, actively prevented you from becoming as wealthy as us.

But we managed it. We played upon your naivety, ignored or snuffed out your pathetic protests, surfed the zeitgeist with the help of our media baron friends, and kept repeating the false mantras of capitalism, like endless growth, for example, over and over again until anyone who deviated from the official narrative was regarded as a fool or a heretic.

In the end we won. Our system was adopted en masse, the world over. Even in the most unlikely of countries like China. The ruse was to make our takeover look like a seemingly benevolent and beneficial model of statism, while rejecting and stoking fear in people’s minds about alternatives. Any alternatives!

It is true that a few of you, led by activist Naomi Klein, academics such as Shoshana Zuboff, and progressive philanthropists like Tom Steyer, have been keen to point out flaws in democracy, together with capitalism’s more predatory nature. Cries for reform were something we have had to refute on an ongoing basis. Capitalism tricks people into slavery by lauding comfort, security, safety and the illusion of freedom, followers of Klein liked to claim. They were correct of course. Thankfully you failed to act on such assertions. The revolution was in your hands after all. But why would you incite rebellion when we kept telling you the economy was booming and almost everyone was deceived into believing us?

Over decades of testing, developing and refining the economic model, we had learned one very important fact. Societies are mostly comprised of compliant, idle, yet decent individuals like you, who are unmoved by political deceit and corporate fraud. As long as you are safe and secure in your immoderate comfort you do not care about government policy - or much else come to think of it. Indeed, you far prefer the certitude of psychological shackles over the stress that comes from real autonomy.

Once we had worked that out a variety of dubious tactics helped advance our cause. By adopting the manipulative advertising of Edward Bernays we persuaded you to buy stuff you did not want. By persuading you to trust us, and to turn a blind eye to the anomalies inherent within representative politics, we were able to bend democracy to service our needs rather than yours. By acquiring the support of influential economists, buying a few self-serving politicians, backing the state with our wealth and declaring that state sovereign (by forcing people to consent to its law and order, no matter how perverse, unjust, or violent that law and order might be) we were able to grow our considerable wealth and power, unconstrained by those of you who might have had the gumption to bring us down.

That was how we won. And over the past decade we have begun to wallow in the luxuries true wealth affords. Tax as an optional extra. Trust funds, think-tanks, family offices and PR advisers that further our own interests. Private extravagances, and a lifestyle a majority of people like you cannot begin to imagine. We are the mega-wealthy. The one per cent. And we own the world.

Do not be tempted to tell us we have it all figured out though, or that we have all bases covered. On the contrary, we failed to notice one vital factor that could soon be our undoing: the unforeseen consequences of our growing affluence.

In spite of our private jets, ocean-going yachts, and lifestyles that eclipse yours many times, we did not pay attention to the inferences of a world in which the gap between the cream of society, of which I am a part, and the vast majority of citizens like you, was widening into a chasm. Deceived by our own propaganda, but blind to your true circumstances, only now are a few of us beginning to fathom out how economic inequality could threaten everything we have created.

As you can imagine all of this came as something of a surprise - so quarantined had we become from the reality of a shared existence. Working tirelessly on feathering our own nests often meant letting our relationships with family dwindle. We missed out on a lot of fun you take for granted. We hurt just like you. We are racked with self-doubt just like you. Our kids still get sick. We don’t have any real friends and we suffer anxiety and feel sad - just like you.

The biggest shock derives from the fact that having more money, faster cars and bigger homes, has not made us happier than you. So please do not tell me we had it all worked out. Only now are we starting to appreciate that no amount of money can prevent us from becoming old and dying. Worse still, the world we built is facing unprecedented challenges on so many levels. If I sound fearful it is because I am.

Until recently we deliberately tried to maintain the very delicate balance between production, consumption and wealth creation. We have been resisting any kind of adaptation to new realities, pumping trillions of dollars into maintaining the status quo instead. This has kept the major banks and large corporations afloat. It also bailed out high-net-worth individuals like me. Sadly, these self-serving tactics have done nothing to help you, or to change your fragile situation. Within the context of the current pandemic the economy will continue to contract leaving many more of you high and dry.

In the past I would not have given this a further thought. But now it is not tenable. The world of finance has become disconnected from reality to such an extent that we are all part of a worldwide financial casino. For now, I am on the winning side. But tomorrow could well see me lose everything that brought me pleasure. The financial instruments I have used to increase my wealth are perfect for those wanting to bring on a financial end-of-the-world scenario. And that is exactly what they seem to be doing.

Of course, I can hang on longer than you will be able to. I have my own bunker and can hole-up until the dust settles if the 5 billion or more poor people on the planet should ever decide to bring my dream run to an end through revolution.

But what then? I confess I had not thought that far ahead – I employed others to do that for me, but they only asked me about cash flow, the balance sheet, investments. If I manage to cling on and survive, with my considerable wealth all but gone, and the financial world I used to inhabit consigned to history, what then? If others see how I helped hasten the destruction of our civilisation with my self-serving attitudes and noxious products, in what stead will I be held with a reputation in tatters?

The future of wealthy people like me is by no means assured. Like power, material wealth can be fleeting. If you are able to survive the coming crises of geopolitical upheaval, socio-economic disruption, and a heating climate, people like you might even be in a better position than me. You are the makers - the true creators. There can be no viable future without ordinary men and women like you. I, on the other hand? I am one of the takers. My fortune was built on stealing the future from your children while extracting your goodwill, labour, and gullibility. That makes me expendable in tomorrow’s world. I am sorry I did not understand that before today.

How can you ever forgive me? More pertinently, after everything I have done, and consciously not done, how can you believe this confession now? Will you leave me behind, or take me with you as you fashion a world without such inequities? It is possible that only my children and their successors will know the answer to that question.