Dave Pollard's environmental philosophy.

	May 12, 2008

Love, Conversation, Community vs Nobody But Yourself Stephen Downes, in response to my article If Not Intentional Community, Then What?, wrote, and then elaborated: Where did the idea that you're missing something in your life come from? The reason I ask is, I wonder how much you have analyzed the origins and the contents of your own beliefs - where did they come from, what motivates them, what their impact is on your life. Because some of the messaging I see in your posts seems to mirror commercial messaging. Which would mean that there will be a certain sense in which the issues can be dissolved, rather than resolved*. Take, for example, the whole thing about polyamorism. What would make you think that there is some sort of 'right' answer to the question of whether you should have one or more than one partner. Why does this become a debate in your life? Where does this issue come from? Stephen always asks intelligent questions, and I've been thinking about these questions a lot. Like Stephen, I tend to be somewhat contrary by nature. We're both natural skeptics of conventional wisdom, and acutely aware of the fact that, although we are social animals, we are always vulnerable to propaganda. I think my answer to his questions lies in that tension. I've recently been talking about Love Conversation Community as the Answer to Everything, or at least the best approach to complex questions and issues. Love, conversation and community are all intensely social activities, especially if you take the Improv "Yes, And..." approach to them, where you build on what others have said, collaboratively, consensually, accessibly, in relation to others. But at the same time I am intensely aware of how, in the effort to achieve peace and find love and build community and attain agreement in conversation, we can start to acquire 'gunk' that isn't us, stuff that is everybody-else, stuff that is what everybody-else believes. And if you're not careful, you can lose yourself in that gunk. I've mentioned before that some of the unorthodox ideas that, in trying to become more authentically myself, I have warmed to, ideas like polyamorism and intentional community and that we belong to the land communally (rather than it belonging to us), are viewed by many as dangerous ideas, and are extremely unpopular beliefs. People who hold these beliefs tend to be viewed as eccentric at best, and are often ignored, shunned or discounted as incredible. If you want to create a model of a better way to live and make a living, you don't want to be written off as a nut case. So you walk a thin line. You tease people closer to your incredible idea, by helping them imagine it working, by showing them it can work, maybe even by criticizing it yourself and seeing how people rush to its defence. When you get too comfortable with the acceptance the idea is getting, you pull away a little closer to the Edge, to see who follows and how far you can get people to let themselves change, to accept what is socially unacceptable. You compromise, give a little, concede that some aspects of your idea are probably impractical. If you want to get things done, important, enduring, meaningful things, you have to collaborate. Except perhaps for works of art, these things cannot be done alone. It would seem, then, that it comes down to a choice, a decision between doing and being. Become mostly everybody-else and then you can 'be the change'. Or you can be authentically yourself. Or, like me, you can go back and forth, alternatively scraping off the accumulated gunk and making yourself more accessible by taking on more of it. Can the issues that haunt and challenge us, the things that keep us awake at night, be dissolved or resolved by simply acknowledging that they're only issues because of modern relentless human social propaganda? I suppose, if we don't care what anyone else thinks. In a natural world, perhaps, no one would or should care what other people thought about their wild ideas, eccentricities, authentic and unique characteristics. But we don't live in a natural world. We live in a fearful one, one where love, conversation and community are the only currencies that really accomplish anything, and a world where so much needs to be accomplished. It is a bit of a false dichotomy, I confess. But it's a real factor in letting yourself change, becoming authentically yourself, making the world a better place. You can't have it both ways. In fact you can't have it either way. You can only be aware of the tension, what's been gained and what's been lost, and make the best of it.  So: Where does the idea that you're missing something in your life come from? It comes from two places. From outside, from those who you love, converse, and make community with, telling you that you belong with them, if only you will give up those annoying, unacceptable parts, please. And from inside, where something wild, primeval, uncivilized, some vestige of nobody-but-yourself, tells you to just be more authentically human, to fly, to be free. * Both these words come from the Latin word meaning "to loosen". Category: Let-Self-Change 10:28:36 PM  trackback []  comment []

	May 7, 2008

Towards a Steady-State Economy Herman Daly is recognized as a pioneer in Environmental & Social Economics, and I've reviewed his work in these pages before. Recently he submitted a paper "Toward a Steady-State Economy" to the UK government's Sustainable Development Commission outlining and explaining the 10 public policy steps needed to achieve such an economy. The whole paper is essential reading for those wanting an understanding of the current economy, why it is not sustainable, and what is required to make it so. The 10 steps in a nutshell (I've altered and added to his words to explain technical terms): Use cap-auction-trade systems for basic resources (energy, wood and other raw materials). Set caps according to source (scarcity of resources) or sink (waste produced in using the resources and loss of carbon absorption) constraint, whichever is more stringent. In other words, cap the maximum amount of usage of each natural resource at levels that are sustainable, and then allow the market, by auction, to determine how to allocate that maximum amount of usage by setting the price where the demand is greatest. Institute ecological tax reform—shift the tax base from value added (labor and capital) and on to “that to which value is added”, namely the entropic throughput of resources extracted from nature (depletion), through the economy, and back to nature (pollution). This internalizes external costs and raises revenue more equitably. It prices the scarce but previously unpriced contribution of nature. In other words, tax 'bads' (depletion, pollution and waste) not 'goods', by lowering social and income taxes and taxing extraction and pollution instead. Limit the range of inequality in income—set a minimum income and a maximum income. Without aggregate growth poverty reduction requires redistribution. Complete equality is unfair; unlimited inequality is unfair. Seek fair limits to inequality. The minimum, he argues, should be sufficient for a comfortable life; the maximum probably not more than 100 times the minimum. Free up the length of the working day, week, and year—allow greater option for leisure or personal work. Full-time external employment for all is hard to provide without growth. In today's automated world, there is no need for everyone to work all day every day to produce a comfortable living for everyone. I have argued before that one day a week, or one hour a day, should be all that is needed; most of our labour is wasted in bureaucracy, hierarchical politics and the production of junk. Re-regulate international commerce—move away from free trade, free capital mobility and globalization, and adopt compensating tariffs to protect efficient national policies of cost internalization from standards-lowering competition from other countries. This is not an argument for reducing trade, but rather for eliminating the component of trade that exploits weak social and environmental standards and unsustainably low long-distance transportation costs. Reduce and amend the authority of the IMF-WB-WTO, to something like Keynes’ plan for a multilateral payments clearing union, charging penalty rates on surplus as well as deficit balances—seeking balance on current accounts, and avoiding large capital transfers and foreign debts. Instead of being an ideological force for globalization and deregulation at any costs, it would become an arbiter and a check on reckless and unsustainable national policies. Move to 100% reserve requirements instead of fractional reserve banking. Return control of money supply and purchasing power to governments rather than private banks. This step is designed to curb irresponsible lending and borrowing practices, speculation and currency devaluation, and allow elected bodies to manage fiscal and monetary policy, not private sector parties with an inherent conflict of interest. Move all remaining publicly-owned natural capital (the 'commonwealth' of land and resources) to public trusts 'priced' at their true value, while freeing from private ownership the 'commonwealth' of knowledge and information, making it free. Stop treating the scarce (natural capital) as if it were non scarce, and the non scarce (intellectual capital) as if it were scarce. Stabilize population. Work toward a balance in which births plus immigrants equals deaths plus out-migrants. Reform how we measure and manage national well-being—separate GDP into a cost account and a benefits account. Compare them at the margin, stop 'growing' the economy when marginal costs start to exceed marginal benefits. Never add the two accounts. This reflects the fact that many economic activities (e.g. the clean-up of the Exxon Valdez disaster) actually add to GDP, and that hence GDP is not in any way a meaningful measure of economic prosperity or well-being. It's an interesting list, but Daly has acknowledged that he's not optimistic that governments and those who would have to cede power to achieve these policy changes will ever voluntarily agree to such economic (and political) reforms, or that they could collaborate and do so even if they were so inclined. I share his pessimism. People with wealth and power simply don't give it up without a fight, and I know of few governments that would have the heart for such an 'unpopular' fight. Nevertheless, even though it's probably impossible, it's interesting to know what we would have to do, top-down, to achieve a truly sustainable global economy. Category: Alternative Economies 3:19:08 PM  trackback []  comment []

	May 5, 2008

If Not Intentional Community, Then What? Regular readers know that I'm infatuated with the idea of Intentional Community, and that I believe the only way we're going to make major positive changes to our unsustainable culture is by creating 'working models' of a better way to live and make a living. An Intentional Community is a group of people with shared values and shared purpose who agree to live together to further those values and realize that purpose. Around the world there are hundreds of ICs, but the large majority of them are very small (smaller than the average struggling-nation family) or very short-lived. For awhile I doubted that ICs had enough urgency and commitment to compel most members to stick them out when times got tough or disagreements arose. Joe Bageant's son's argument that 'communities are born of necessity' is pretty compelling. And in Second Life the turnover in 'communities' is enormous -- many people change their 'home' as often as they change their clothes. But while 'accidental communities' may outlast intentional ones, the evidence is that most of them are not happy places -- nor are they sustainable in a modern world quickly running out of room, resources, and the essentials of life. We've left community formation up to accident, and we got what we deserved -- greedy real estate developers telling us where we can and cannot live, turning the Earth into unnatural wasteland. My study of indigenous, 'tribal' communities suggests that, while they are sustainable (at least they were until our civilization encroached irrevocably and dramatically into their habitat), they are not necessarily happy places, especially for non-conformists and especially when they abut other such communities (this seems to trigger an endless cycle of inter-tribal violence). I have a perhaps idealistic view of the communities of wild creatures, which are not nearly as violent as the makers of sensationalist nature films would have us believe. From my studies of birds in particular, I've learned that life for other creatures in the wild is mostly joyful, peaceful and care-free. I've also learned that Gaia, the complex self-regulating system of all-life-on-Earth, is graceful, respectful, honourable, and astonishing. If all-life-on-Earth can figure out how to live as responsible, sustainable, joyful and mostly peaceful life, what's wrong with us? Are we really a rogue species, unable to fit into the ecosystem that has evolved so effectively for millions of years? Or are we just going about the business of belonging to Earth all wrong, and, if so, what do we need to learn (or unlearn) and show to get us back on the right track? My fall-back, if I cannot find a way to join with others to be a model in community, is Radical Simplicity, a model of a personal way of living devoted to: leaving the Earth as we found it, unhampered in its ability to sustain itself indefinitely consuming as little of the Earth's resources as we need to be fully ourselves measuring our 'success' not by material wealth or GDP but by the quality of our lives ('our' meaning that of all creatures we share our ecosystems with) -- health, well-being, happiness, learning, love relearning to listen to the Earth, to pay attention, and to live in harmony as a part of it Perhaps because I've lived a prosperous, materially comfortable life, yet not found in it the happiness or health or well-being that I have always intuitively sought, it is easy for me to shrug off material measures of success. I can appreciate how those who have struggled for basic necessities all their lives would find my quest elitist, disconnected from the reality of the modern human condition. What good is a model of a better way to live if 90% of the people on this horrifically overpopulated planet will be completely unpersuaded of its value, even if they could afford to emulate it? Yet I can't shake my fascination with the idea of Intentional Community. In theory it still makes sense. For the same reason, I'm also still fascinated with the idea of polyamorism, the idea that we're not meant to love or be loved by just one person, and that monogamy demands so much of us that we end up losing ourselves to compromise, or fracturing. I hear the two common objections to polyamorism: That it's a self-indulgent and absurdly unrealizable fantasy of middle-aged males. And that it's fearful, an attempt to insulate ourselves against the loss of love, against commitment, against responsibility, against being hurt. Maybe so. (listening to House in the background -- a woman says to her new lover, one of the House doctors, after he indulges her: "I need you to do what you want. I can take care of me...I need you to take care of you.") All of this internal debate inside my own head is, perhaps, the crux of the problem. I need to learn to let go, not to be afraid to be truly human, truly myself, to live in the real world. Not to be afraid of intimacy or responsibility. To be fearless. To try not to try too hard. I need to think. I'm such a slow learner. Or maybe I think too much. Maybe what I'm lacking is data. Maybe I spend too much time thinking and not enough time being. Before I can decide where I belong, perhaps I have to try belonging somewhere outside my own head. Or maybe I should lock myself in a lab and learn biology and invent some dust that, spread from above the Earth, could halve the probability of women everywhere becoming pregnant. Or invent a meat, tasty as the finest on the planet, that could be grown in a test tube, in anyone's garden, and spare the world's creatures the outrage and misery of factory farms, and the horror of famine and hunger. If not Intentional Community, then what? I have no idea. I know it's not political or social reform, or 'free' markets, or new technology, or revolution, or spiritualism. We've tried all these things for ten thousand years, and they've only made matters worse. And I know that there is no going back, that there are no noble savages, that history has many lessons but no better models of how to live. When I know myself a little better, when I know who I really am and start to have an inkling where I might belong, maybe I'll have some answers, some possibilities that make more sense. If so, you'll be the first to know. Image: Erskine Falls, Australia, photo from my Picasaweb collection Category: Let-Self-Change 10:33:57 PM  trackback []  comment []

	April 15, 2008

What's Your 'Big Question'?   Image: Sculpture by Bruno Torfs from Sculpture Garden, Marysville, Australia. (posted from Australia) Edge magazine and several others have run articles on leading thinkers' 'Big Ideas' -- the revelation, the emergent understanding, the 'aha! moment' that has most provoked, inspired or changed them. I am not sure I have had any Big Ideas, just a few Miniature Truths. But today we live in an age of such uncertainty, a world where our understanding is so tenuous and constantly evolving, that I think it is more interesting to learn what people's Big Questions are. Your Big Question is the issue, doubt, problem or struggle that keeps you awake at night because you know you are still a long way from resolving it, and without doing so you cannot achieve your life's purpose. What interests me are the commonalities, patterns and collective approaches to dealing with these Big Questions. So lately I've been asking the people I meet what their Big Question is. I've found great similarities between the Big Questions of Canadians, Americans, and now Australians. But surprisingly, I've found signifiant differences between the Big Questions of men and women. Men's seem to be more idealistic and conceptual, women's more specific, practical and particular. Recently I have been struggling with Big Questions of how to make better use of my time, of whether and how Intentional Communities can work and become models that are replicated, of whether and how I can love many people in ways that are useful and fulfilling to all of us (rather than constantly letting others down), and of how to live simpler. These big questions are, of course, all interrelated: Loving many people requires effective use of time, and is perhaps only possible in communities where they are all constantly close at hand. And living simpler probably also requires living in community. So maybe the underlying Big Question for me is: Where Do I Belong? To what physical place, to what community, to what way of living and making a living? The biggest challenge with such a question is whether it is even possible to answer that personally, individually, intentionally -- or whether such awareness, such discovery needs to emerge, evolve, collectively, with that of others, such that we (we the creatures in those places, the humans in search of their belonging, the communities-in-forming, the enterprises waiting to evolve in response to deep unmet needs) together, must discover them? Several of the men I have spoken to recently have identified their Big Question as some variation of: Am I Doing This Right? In other words, is the process they are using to accomplish what they know they are intended to do, the right process, the best way of achieving it? I confess I am much less sure that I know what I am intended to do, so I am not yet ready to acknowledge this as my Big Question. The women I have spoken to recently have mostly said they don't really have a Big Question, but rather a few or a host of specific, personal questions. What might this reflect: pragmatism, practicality, or resignation, unwarranted modesty? They say that knowing the real question is half way to finding the answer. But if Where Do I Belong? is my Big Question, it leaves me bewilderingly unaware of what the answer might be, or even how to start down the path towards discovering it. Although I'm blogging from Australia on a trip that is half business, half personal, I have no great passion to start searching the world for the answer, as Liz Gilbert does in Eat Pray Love. The number of people I love is substantial, but the number I have discovered who I know I would want to spend the rest of my life living with and making a living with is tiny, and not sufficient for a sustainable community or even a sustainable enterprise. Where does one start to find where one belongs, if it is not looking for the place that is, intuitively and unquestionably, home? And if, from over 2000 people whose company I've discovered I enjoy immensely I cannot assemble enough to make a sustainable community, even I could convince them all to come and share my home, or create an enterprise with me? I think what makes discovery of one's purpose so hard in our modern culture is that there are so many people, so many places, so many options and choices. In indigenous communities the choices were limited, but somehow, my instincts tell me, their members were vastly happier. Perhaps I am too demanding of others, and of myself. That's not uncommon among hopeless idealists. I remain a believer in intentional community and in a polyamorous lifestyle, though I am doubtful either is realistically viable. But I have no Plan B. The one positive is that, more than any time in my adult life, I am open to possibility. The life I am intended to live, and the place where I belong, are out there, waiting to be discovered. Enough about my Big Question. What is yours? What is the issue, doubt, problem or struggle that keeps you awake at night because you know you are still a long way from resolving it, and without doing so you cannot achieve your life's purpose? Category: Let-Self-Change 10:34:54 AM  trackback []  comment []

	March 31, 2008

Attention is Power Cartoon by Frank Cotham in The New Yorker. Buy his artwork here. In a recent conversation Jon Husband commented that, in the face of information overload, knowledge is no longer power. Today, attention is power: With the indifference and ignorance of the modern electorate in most countries, the politician who can grab the most media attention (unless it's really bad attention) is almost sure to win. You need to either be a celebrity, or buy celebrity, to get that attention. Get that attention, and you get power. Big corporations know that the purpose of advertising isn't to communicate or inform the public about your product, it's to get your attention. If they can get your attention, they can get your dollars, enough to buy up competitors so they have no opportunity to divert that attention. Extremists of every stripe know that if they can get public attention, they can accomplish much more than by trying to articulate their message coherently or passionately. In the business rat race, you're much more likely to get ahead if you do one or two things well that really garner attention, rather than a dozen things competently but invisibly. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. Tall people succeed more than short people, and loud people get more response than soft-spoken people, for no other reason than that they command more attention. I've been writing this blog for five years, and developed an astute and delightful readership, but I don't really get much attention. So far that hasn't concerned me -- I'm content to inspire readers whose knowledge and energy and capacities are undoubtedly way beyond mine to act on what they learn here and inspire others to act. But they often lament that they can't get much attention either. So what are some ethical strategies for getting more attention for knowledge, ideas and insights that are important? How did the anti-smoking gang, and Al Gore, and the Earth Hour gang, manage to get as much attention for their causes as they did? I'm looking for your ideas on this, since if I had the answers I'd have applied them. How can we get attention? How can we get people to listen? Here are a few ideas to get you thinking: Make the message simple, compelling, personal and memorable. That makes it easier to hold attention, and to allow people who hear it to get the attention across to others, virally. Repeat the message often (but not too often). Sometimes people need to hear something a few times before it really registers. Show, don't tell. Use a story or photo or graphic example to convey the message instead of lecturing or beating people over the head with your argument and analysis. When people get it from a story, they'll fill in the blanks to make it their own, and then it's their learning, their story, not yours, so they'll memorize it, and retell it. Be passionate (your enthusiasm is infectious and persuasive), but don't be hysterical. Be sincere. If you don't really care, you can't expect others to. You can't fake this. Don't try to change people's minds. Tell them what you believe, and why. Give them information, not argument. If they're ready for what you have to say, they'll pay attention. If not, don't waste your time. What else? What have you done that has received more attention than anything else you've done? What was it that made the difference? Category: Activism: What You Can Do Personally . . . . . And now that I have your attention: This Friday I'm off to Australia (mostly Victoria) and New Zealand (North Island) for a week of business meetings (knowledge management, sustainability and education), a week of training (Open Space etc.), and a week of vacation (nature photography). I'll be back before month-end, and I'll try to post from time to time, but articles will be sporadic. 10:20:43 PM  trackback []  comment []

© Copyright 2008 Dave Pollard. Last update: 12/05/2008; 10:28:49 PM.