Dave Pollard's environmental philosophy, creative works, business papers and essays.
In search of a better way to live and make a living, and a better understanding of how the world really works.



February 23, 2009

What is the Name That is Big Enough to Hold Your Life?

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 17:05


life is a verb
Thinking more about Meg Wheatley and Chris Corrigan’s “Big Question“:

From Meg: How do you call yourself? How do you identify yourself? And have you chosen a name for yourself that is big enough to hold your life’s work? I have a colleague who first suggested this to me. And he said, “So many of us choose names that are too small for a whole life.” So, we call ourselves, ‘cancer survivors;’ that seems to be a very bold name, but is it big enough to hold a life? Or, ‘children of abuse.’ Or, we call ourselves ‘orphans,’ or ‘widows,’ or ‘martyrs’…. are these names big enough to hold your life?

From Chris: What is the name that is big enough to hold your life? This is a name beyond who we are and who we have been – it is a name that we tremble to live into.

This is not our job description, our given name, our title, or our position in our family or society. It is about who we really are and what we really do, something that is important to the rest of the world (after all, we have a ‘name’ so others can identify us, understand us, and connect with us — we don’t need one to describe what’s just important to us).

It’s interesting to me that we are so hesitant to name ourselves until and unless we have some kind of external acknowledgement that we have ‘earned’ that name. Calling ourselves something different from what our parents called us is considered by many self-indulgent. Many ‘professions’ prohibit you from calling yourself ‘their’ name (doctor, lawyer, etc.) unless it has been officially conferred on you after some kind of test or other initiation rite. I was hesitant to call myself a writer or author until I had actually been published. This is all unfortunate — we are cowed from naming ourselves who we know (or think) we really are without sanction. How can others expect to know who we are if we don’t declare it, if we wait for them to tell us?

This comes back, I think, to this idea of identity that pervaded this weekend’s Northern Voice conference. We have different identities within each of the communities (real and virtual) to which we belong: mother, neighbour, teacher, blogger, tweeter, committee chair, coordinator, avatar. Often these names don’t ‘talk’ to each other: each community identifies us, ‘knows’ us, only in the context of what we are called (or call ourselves) in that community. No wonder it is so difficult to move between communities, and bring others along with us, introduce them to all that we are!

What I think Meg and Chris are saying is that if we give ourselves a meta-name, a name big enough to hold all that we do, then connecting our communities and networks, bridging them, and broadening understanding between these communities, and between us as individuals, all-that-we-are, would be much easier.

What this meta-name is as well, perhaps, is a means of establishing boundaries for ourselves, telling others not only who (all) we are, but also who we are not. It’s also a way of embracing both who we ‘are’ and what we ‘do’.

William Tozier’s wonderful post last year (”I do… this“) on the virtues of being a generalist might make us think that this ‘meta-name’ would have to be so broad as to be meaningless (calling yourself “a human” comes to mind). But Meg and Chris are also urging us to describe ourselves not by the outcomes we aspire to but the activities we engage in, alone and with others, to move forward. When Patti Digh said her (and perhaps our) job is to “just help them get started”, that’s the kind of name we’re talking about. “What do you do?” “I just help people get started“. Now that’s a big name.

I write about things that help people imagine possibilities. In my blog, in my book Finding the Sweet Spot, in my novel-in-progress The Only Life We Know, in my work. That’s what I do, and will always do, that matters to others. Too long a name, perhaps, but I think that’s my ‘big enough’ name.

What’s yours? What is the name that is big enough to hold your life? What name do you tremble to live into?

Category: Being Human

February 22, 2009

Links of the Week — February 21, 2009

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 01:07


fuel efficiency from Good Magazine
Good Magazine charts fuel efficiency (gallons of fuel per passenger to travel 350 miles) under different capacity situations for different means of travel. Thanks to Craig De Ruisseau for the link.

Northern Voice ‘09: I’ve been at Northern Voice this weekend — the annual self-managed conference of social networkers held in Vancouver. The theme that emerged this year was identity:

  • how we have different identities in our real-world and online communities, 
  • how they’re evolving as the web moves from a “producer selling to consumer” experience to an “everyone is producer, participant and consumer” experience, and most importantly 
  • how our greater affinity to online communities (where we pick which to belong to, based often on who else is in those communities) jeopardizes our attention and responsibility to local real-life communities (where we usually have no say in who the ‘members’ are) just at the time our collapsing economy and climate change need us to be refocusing on and rebuilding those local real-life communities. 

Had a wonderful dinner while I was there with Nancy White and Sue Wolff, and even ran an impromptu session myself on “explaining social media to people over 30″ (later changed to “over 50″). I’ll put my slides from that up on slideshare soon, along with Nancy White’s graphic recording of the session. Thanks to all the organizers and attendees!

Fearless, Important Questions: Chris Corrigan riffs off Margaret Wheatley’s Eight Fearless Questions at a world cafe and adds three more. Here’s the whole set:

  1. What is the name that is big enough to hold your life? [I really like this, as Chris restates it. It's all about self-identity, and authenticity, and declaring a role for yourself that is beyond a title, a job description, and is bold and fearless, what Chris calls "a name we tremble to live into"]
  2. What’s so bad about fear?
  3. Does the world (now) need us to be fearless?
  4. What if we can’t save the world? How can we do our work without (needing) hope that we will succeed? [I really like this one too! It's about giving up our focus on outcomes and just doing the work, in a caring way, for and with those we love, in community]
  5. What is it like to live in the future now?
  6. Why do we imprison ourselves? Why are we so afraid?
  7. Can we work beyond hope and fear? Can we find a way to be motivated, to be energetic, to be happy; to take delight in the work that we’re doing that isn’t based on outcomes, that isn’t based on needing to see a particular result? What if we could offer our work as a gift so lightly, and with so much love, that that’s really the source of fearlessness?
  8. What would it take for us to just deal with what is? To not need to be always engaged in changing the world?
  9. When have I been fearless in my life?
  10. Who am I called to be for these times?
  11. What is the question that you could live into for the next 30 days that would keep these insights alive as (an enduring) learning journey for you?

How to Cope With Complex Crises: The key to resilience is not to get locked into plans, and instead to do scenario analysis, simulations and other adaptation-response techniques and to learn to improvise quickly so you’re ready no matter what unexpected events occur. Rob Poynton, Mark Earls and Johnnie Moore explain in an improvisational podcast. Thanks to Geoff Brown for the link.

The Financial Crisis and The Recession: Why We’ve Left Ourselves No Way Out: Rob Paterson links to two excellent presentations on the current crises, one an interview of Simon Johnson by Bill Moyers (with a full transcript) that shows how the old-line financial services oligopoly is robbing the US taxpayer blind, and the second a visualization of the credit crisis by Jon Jarvis. This suggests Obama might meet his Waterloo early, and plunge his country into bankruptcy and the world into depression before his first term ends. Johnson also has an excellent blog. On the same subject, two economists say we have seen this all five times before and are making the same mistakes.

Business Still Has No Clue About Pandemic Risks: A new study recommends corporations use “physical distancing” techniques to reduce infections during a pandemic, even though this is highly stressful and disorienting, and suggests such techniques will let businesses “work through” pandemics. This is absurd. Simulations compellingly and consistently demonstrate that 40% of workers will refuse to show up for work when a pandemic hits, and that the global disruptions could easily reduce productivity by 26% (many times what the current recession has wrought) and bring the entire interdependent economy to a grinding halt. But then, business still wildly underestimates the probability of a pandemic in the first place. It’s a pure “head in the sand” strategy, and it’s going to create yet another crisis.

The Alberta Tar Sand Trap: Both NASA climate science expert James Hansen and Heat author George Monbiot agree. We must stop the bitumen sludge mining (”oil sands”) ecological holocaust now. Hansen also warns about the insoluble problems of coal (thanks to Graham Clark for the link).

Canada/US “Longest Undefended Border in the World”: Not any more.

Just for Fun:

Joe Bageant reminisces about the 1960s and 1970s, and explains why that was such a pivotal and transformative time in so many of our lives.

Amy Lenzo shows us a wonderful Nancy Margulies explanation of quantum theory, Dr Seuss style.

Tree points us to a heartwarming story about how a horse reconnected a man and his autistic son.

Amazing bird-in-motion pictures from Aullori.

Thought for the Week: On “Wisdom Councils” by John Jordan in a letter to Rebecca Solnit (thanks to Tree for the link). This kind of resonates with what Meg and Chris are saying, above:

Our movements are trying to create a politics that challenges all the certainties of traditional leftist politics, not by replacing them with new ones, but by dissolving any notion that we have answers, plans or strategies that are watertight or universal. In fact our strategies must be more like water itself, undermining everything that is fixed, hard and rigid with fluidity, constant movement and evolution.

We are trying to build a politics of process, where the only certainty is doing what feels right at the right time and in the right place… When we are asked how are we going to build a new world, our answer is, ‘We don’t know, but let’s build it together.’ In effect we are saying the end is not as important as the means, we are turning hundreds of years of political form and content on its head by putting the means before the ends, by putting context in front of ideology, by rejecting purity and perfection, in fact, we are turning our backs on the future…

Taking power has been the goal at the end of the very straight and narrow road of most political movements of the past. Taking control of the future lies at the root of nearly every historical social change strategy, and yet we are building movements which believe that to ‘let go’ is the most powerful thing we can do—to let go, walk away from power and find freedom.

Giving people back their creative agency, reactivating their potential for a direct intervention into the world is at the heart of the process. With agency and meaning reclaimed, perhaps it is possible to imagine tomorrow today and to be wary of desires that can only be fulfilled by the future. In that moment of creation, the need for certainty is subsumed by the joy of doing, and the doing is filled with meaning.

February 18, 2009

Fooled by Randomness, Risk and Opportunity

Filed under: Working Smarter — Dave Pollard @ 15:44


davos risks 2009

Nassim Taleb is a very bright guy. He has some strange social and communication skills (he savagely ridicules those he thinks exemplify foolish qualities, he’s annoyingly arrogant, and he comes across as a bit scatterbrained both in TV interviews and in some of his writing). Because of this, it’s a bit surprising that his work (The Black Swan, Fooled by Randomness) has become so popular. But, given that he “predicted” the financial crisis, and made a lot of money by betting on it (or, more accurately, betting against it not occurring), he’s recently become a celebrity and is being treated as a business guru (he was very visible at Davos this year, where the charts above and below were presented). His books present some interesting, and truly original, thinking.

One of my current work projects is to get business leaders to think of environmental sustainability as congruent in the long term with business sustainability, and to think of both in the context of risk management. I recently presented a paper on this subject that I co-authored, in London at a Prince’s Trust event on sustainability. It argues that the risk management models currently used in business need to be enhanced to consider:

  • the very high degree of uncertainty of some risks (i.e. on the likelihood/severity matrix above, the positioning of these risks cannot be pinpointed) 
  • the high degree of interrelationship of many risks (in the chart below, some of these interrelationships are plotted; the light green one at the very top is water scarcity (if you want to see this more legibly it’s on page 4 of this report))
  • the fact that responsibility for many risks, especially the more external and uncontrollable risks (e.g. climate change risks), is not specifically assigned to anyone in organizations, and hence tends to fall on the shoulders of the CEO and Board (who generally don’t know what to do about them),
  • adaptation as an important risk response strategy (most risk management models consider avoidance and mitigation the only viable response strategies), and
  • opportunity as the (asymmetric) flip-side of risk, something that should always be considered whenever risk is being considered.

davos risks interconnectivity 2009

Taleb’s key argument fits well with the above ideas. His thesis for the book is:

We favor the visible, the embedded, the personal, the narrated, and the tangible; we scorn the abstract. Everything good (e.g. aesthetics, ethics) and wrong (e.g. being fooled by randomness) with us seems to flow from this.

We are wired, he argues, to deal with immediate emergencies (fight or flight, when being pursued by predators), and to optimize the likelihood of procreation. Because of this, our brains, emotions and instincts can be “fooled”. Several of these types of foolishness are now getting our species into deep trouble:

  • Hindsight bias: Past events look more logical, causal and correlated than they really are. We therefore reward people (executives, politicians, celebrities, gamblers) for being in the right place at the right time, and don’t see that their “success” had nothing to do with them; it was almost entirely good luck. 
  • Learned helplessness: As Gladwell has argued, because of bad and misinterpreted information, we fear the wrong things. We think terrorism is a bigger threat than flying, and think SUVs are safer than convertibles. And we act (inappropriately) accordingly.
  • Being swayed by simplifying rhetoric: We love (and believe) proverbs and terse oversimplifications. In an increasingly complex world, our minds crave simplification, and are suckers for it.
  • Vulnerability to “noise”: We are such pattern-seekers that we look for sense in the firehose of information, and find it when it isn’t there. We would be better off to turn off the mainstream media, stop paying attention to them, and spend our time in original thought and reflection instead.
  • The induction problem: The past always seems deterministic. We expect the future to be a continuation of the recent past. We “forget” (or never learn) the longer-term historical context. Because we have only ever seen white swans (boom economic times) we don’t believe in the possibility of black swans (crashes). So we constantly overreact to the “latest” news (quarterly earnings reports).
  • The key to resilience is to anticipate the possibility of black swans (unlikely but potentially catastrophic events) and to hedge against them, avoid them entirely (become a dentist, not a stockbroker) or be prepared for them. Taleb made his mark by hedging against a market collapse, but the challenge is that some such events are very difficult to hedge against or prepare for, so we tend to shrug them off until they actually occur.
  • The skewness problem: Despite the fact that rare, catastrophic events can more than undo decades of positives, we tend to perceive ‘blips’ as being of the same magnitude in both directions, so we continue to bet on the positives and, on net, lose.
  • The survivorship bias: We tend to see only the winners/survivors and lose track of the large numbers of losers. There are probably hundreds of people as bright and skilled as Bill Gates or Warren Buffett or Wayne Gretzky or (name your star) who followed exactly the same method or philosophy as these successes, but who, because they were not in the right place at the right time, failed and are now unknown. We are therefore foolish to follow the lead of such successes and expect the same result. When it comes to success in life and other complex situations, the cream actually rises to the top very rarely. This problem is worst at the top levels, because executives and politicians tend to make decisions that are more affected by external events, so the outcome, good or bad, is least likely to be the result of their decision.
  • The anchoring bias: Our perception of where we are is biased by where we have come from. If we have a million dollars after living our lives poor, we think we are rich. But if we once had two million, we feel poor, a failure.

Because of these biases, we are, he argues, very poor at assessing risks (both their likelihood and severity). I would say (as someone who has struggled with large organizations that have a strong, unacknowledged bias against true innovation) we are equally poor at assessing opportunities (both their likelihood of success and their consequences if they do succeed), because of these same biases.

So, looking at the risks in the top chart above, Taleb would probably say that (1) we are probably underestimating the consequences of many of the risks on the left (low perceived likelihood) side of this chart, (2) we are missing a raft of risks on this left side that we have forgotten can occur or can’t even imagine occurring, and (3) the combined probability of at least one (and probably several, possibly interdependent) of these ‘individually low-likelihood’ risks occurring is very high, and that occurrence, far more than the higher-probability “known” risks on the right side of the chart, is what we should really be considering, and preparing for.

This is at least easier when we know what those risks are. We can anticipate the consequences of another disastrous war, next time in Iran or North Korea (and Obama’s decision to escalate the war in Afghanistan today signals that he is also incapable of learning the lessons of history, which is an ominous sign). We know, from the sad lesson of Katrina, that the consequence of natural catastrophes in the 21st century will be to abandon afflicted cities to die (we simply cannot afford to rebuild them), just as we abandon old buildings and factories.

From the 1970s and 2008, we have an inkling of the consequence of huge oil price spikes (though the gnomes of Davos still cannot get themselves to acknowledge that the real risk is not a price spike, but the end of oil as the engine of our economy). From the great blackouts we’ve experienced, we’re reluctantly aware that the decaying and neglected infrastructure in our cities everywhere is going to cause us enormous problems, but because we consider it (for now) a low-likelihood catastrophe (and because we can’t afford to fix it) we just put it out of our minds. Same thing with pandemics and water crises: we know they’re coming, and that they will both cause a horrific economic downturn (and the indirect economic consequences will probably kill more people than the diseases and droughts will kill directly), but because they’re still ‘unlikely’ in any year (and hence ‘unlikely’ to occur in the 10-year horizon of the charts above), we do nothing.

Another real problem is all the risks that are not even on the chart. What if the real political crisis is not war in Iran, but the collapse of Mexico? There are plenty of warning signs for this, but we haven’t even begun to consider what happens when organized crime takes over an anarchic state right beside us, and fifty million people seek asylum elsewhere. What if the real terrorism risk in not an ‘international’ threat but a bunch of whacked-out individuals who manage to produce (not as hard as you might think) weaponized anthrax and use it as a carrier for smallpox? What about a good old fashioned nuclear war between India and Pakistan? I can imagine dozens of risks, some of which have a long history of occurring but not recently (think Mao and ask why a populist coup in China is not on the risk list above), that belong in the upper left corner of this chart. They are all perhaps ‘unlikely’, but taken together, their probability is as high as the probability of an attack on the US was a year before 9/11, and their consequence is likely to be much greater.

My pick for ‘breakout’ risk of the year? Food crisis (notice they call it “food price volatility”: the gnomes can’t quite get themselves to use the real ‘f’ word famine). It’s in the upper left (#1) but there’s lots of evidence it should be in the upper right. Unless they’ve read something about history, people think famine is something that only happens in Africa and Asia. But then, last year the gnomes only gave “asset price collapse” (their euphamism for global depression) a 20% chance of occurring in the next decade, and still don’t think that it’s much more likely than that.

Another weakness in our analysis of risks is that we tend to view them all as temporary ‘events’ that need to be mitigated and survived, until things “return to normal”. But just as some innovations (what Christensen and Raynor call “disruptive innovations”) permanently change the business landscape, some risks (climate change, the end of oil) will, when they occur, usher in permanent structural changes in our world and in our economic and political systems. That’s something Taleb doesn’t deal with, but which I hope to continue to write about. The real value of scenario planning, simulations and other adaptation risk response strategies is not so much that they help us anticipate system shocks (though they can do that), as that they help us prepare for permanent shifts in our world, and help us learn to cope with complexity.

PS: Taleb’s advice is to shun the mainstream media, avoid self-help books and advice that would presume to make us who we are not, never complain (it’s no one’s “fault” so there is no point), never take compliments or harsh criticism too seriously (they say more about the speaker than about you), avoid superstition, never gamble, always be skeptical of apparent causality, and try to avoid path-dependent decisions (those you make unaware of your anchoring bias, described above). He also suggests not scheduling your life tightly, since he’s observed that “time optimizers” are generally more unhappy because they set up more opportunities for “failure”. I actually find his advice (despite his warning against taking advice from anyone) more interesting than a lot of his explanation of how we are fooled by (im)probabilities.

Category: Complexity

February 16, 2009

25 Things That I’m Not

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 20:57


http://lh4.ggpht.com/_dy7JitxAGik/SZcVnq7-mzI/AAAAAAAABiI/vwpdajhXv2I/s576/25things.jpg
“25 things about me” collage; thanks to Pete McGregor for #25; all other photos except #8, #10, #16 by the author

On Saturday I mentioned the ‘25 Things About Me’ meme, and suggested there probably aren’t 25 things about me of any significance that I haven’t already disclosed at some point in this blog’s 2,332 posts. It occurred to me, though, that there may well be 25 things that I’m not, that a lot of readers think I probably am, or hope I will be, or expect that I should be.

It has taken me a long time to really know myself, and in the process I’ve discovered some things that I know I’m not, and will probably never be. We can all be open to change, but sometimes it is a voyage that not only isn’t completed, but that runs aground before it has barely begun. So while I confess to no pride (and no little embarrassment) at some of these admissions, I know myself well enough that I can say with some confidence that they are, beyond mere excuses, integrally not who I am.

Dave’s 25 Personal Non-Qualities:

  1. Mature: I have spent much of my life under either the stupor of depression or the stupor of blissful complacency. As a result I have never really grown up, and remain childlike in many ways: I am easily distracted. I tire easily. I am self-preoccupied. I am recklessly impulsive (”Oh, nice doggy, let me pet him; Oh, nice flower, let me pick it”). I lose interest quickly. In a child all of this is tolerable. In an adult it is dangerous, potentially hurtful, and annoying.
  2. Sensitive: This is a word with two very different meanings: (a) Alert and sensitive to others’ feelings, and (b) Easily upset. It is usually good to be the former, often not so good to be the latter. I am, for the most part, neither, though I’m trying to be the former.
  3. Emotionally Intelligent or Emotionally Articulate: Emotional intelligence goes beyond being alert to and sensitive to others’ feelings. It is the ability to use that sensitivity to sense, understand and respond to others’ emotions in helpful ways, and to articulate feelings clearly and powerfully. I’m incompetent at this, despite years of trying and frustrating practice. 
  4. Attentive (or a Good Listener): I think we live in a world of distraction, and epidemic attention disorder, and in that respect I am about average, which is not good. I don’t remember faces, or names, or places, or what people said, or what happened. I am convinced this is largely because I don’t pay attention, except in rare moments when I am alone, in natural places. I don’t think I’m incapable of paying attention when people are around; I just don’t think to do it.
  5. Demonstrative or Affectionate: As a consequence of my lack of maturity (personal non-quality #1 above), I tend to get wildly enthusiastic about people and ideas and information and works of art initially, and gush about them, and then kind of retreat (= O.F. draw back) and become very English about these things. I start to love and appreciate these people and things without showing it, which is understandably infuriating.
  6. Caring for Humanity: I seem to have been, for most of my life, misanthropic, and nothing seems to improve it. I don’t know if it’s because I expect people to be smarter and know better than they do, or because our species is, after all, precipitating the next great extinction of life on this planet. I do enthusiastically (but undemonstratively: personal non-quality #5 above) love people who are exceptionally intelligent, imaginative, emotionally strong, emotionally sensitive (in sense (a) rather than sense (b) of personal non-quality #2 above) and who are articulate in one way or another (doesn’t have to be emotionally or even verbally). It’s just all the rest of humanity I don’t care much for. I genuinely prefer the company of wild creatures to that of most humans.
  7. Well-Coordinated Physically: I have taken lessons from experts three time to learn to dance, and likewise to learn to swim; I can do neither. I can’t touch-type. I have taken a combined twelve years of music lessons and cannot play an instrument (though I can and do compose music). My instructors get exasperated. “You’re not trying, you’re not paying attention, you’re not practicing”, they lament. Well, they’re wrong. I’m doing my best to do all three, but to no avail.
  8. An Activist: I mean this in the narrow sense of someone who doesn’t just advocate change, but actually physically moves to implement it. My role is to imagine possibilities and write about it. All artists, in the broad sense of provoking understanding and appreciation and action in others, are activists. But in the narrow sense we’re not. I don’t believe in trying to change huge, dysfunctional, resistant systems (you can get hurt, you’ll generally accomplish nothing, and in the long run they’ll collapse anyway, so as Bucky says, we should instead invent a new way that renders the old system obsolete). And I don’t believe in trying to change people’s minds either (as Daniel Quinn says, it’s a waste of time until they’re ready, at which time they’ll change themselves). I hate fights and confrontation, even in a good cause. 
  9. A Quick Study: I often have to write things down five times before I really internalize them. Some of the wisdom in my Save the World Reading List is still giving me Aha! moments, five years after I read it. It just seems to take forever to sink in. This simple realization took three years:
I am, after all, just the space through which stuff passes, a part of the unfathomably complex dance of all-life-on-Earth, learning to improvise which of that passing-through stuff to touch, and which to just let go. “Ah, I know how I can make this better, or clearer, or more interesting, or more useful, or more innovative, or more fun – there!” Just being the space, and touching the right stuff in just the right way as it passes through.

Duh! And when someone tells me something, shows me something, shows me how to do something, it’s as if suddenly my brain and senses lose all faculty, and they have to show/tell me again and again, and still I don’t seem to get it, remember it, be able to embrace it and use it.
  1. Realistic and Practical: I’m an idealist. I seem incapable of giving up on ideals in order to acknowledge and work towards something that can practically be realized. If it doesn’t work like it should ideally, I am somehow able to convince myself that there is something wrong with the design, or the designer, or the implementation, or the implementation team. “It shouldn’t work that way. It should be able to work this way,” I shout, even when it clearly doesn’t.
  2. Reasonable About Human Vices: Cruelty, dishonesty, manipulation, unfairness, greed, arrogance, negativity, closed-mindedness: I just lose it when I face people or situations that manifest these “qualities”. I become irrational. You don’t want to be near me.
  3. Good at Details: Perhaps this is an offshoot of personal non-quality #1 above. At 30,000 feet I’m your guy. Once we get on the ground I get lost easily, and start falling all over stuff. 
  4. Good at Follow-Through: I love to start stuff, but once we get to the implementation, the measurement, the tweaking, the continuous improvement stuff, better put someone else in charge.
  5. A Good Conversationalist: Even though I appreciate good conversational skill enormously, I remain incompetent at it, and often “converse” better in IM than on the phone or face-to-face, despite my slow four-finger typing. I just write better than I speak. Part of it is personal non-quality #4 above. But part of it is just oral inarticulateness: I seem to be unable to put together spoken words coherently extemporaneously.
  6. Patient, Persistent or Perseverent: Also perhaps an offshoot of personal non-qualities #1, #8 and #10 above. I give up too easily. I hate to work hard, or confront problems directly, and when I have to, I get discouraged easily, worn out, convinced it’s not worth the trouble. “It shouldn’t have to be this hard.”
  7. Self-Sufficient: Possibly a consequence of personal non-qualities #7 and #12 above. I am not dependent on others, but I lack survival skills. 
  8. Humble or Modest: I love myself, and think highly of myself. No apologies for this. No low self-esteem here. This list was actually pretty hard for me to come up with :-).
  9. Optimistic: Einstein observed that the more he, and those he knew, learned about the world, the more pessimistic they tended to become. My awareness of how much suffering we’re willing to tolerate in this world is enough to keep me from ever being an optimist. I remain, however, cheerfully pessimistic (that is not an oxymoron). I found the thorougly pessimistic Straw Dogs a confirming and uplifting book, and I love Ambrose Bierce’s priceless definition of man:
An animal so lost in rapturous contemplation of what he thinks he is as to overlook what he indubitably ought to be. His chief occupation is extermination of other animals and his own species, which, however, multiplies with such insistent rapidity as to infest the whole habitable earth, and Canada.
  1. Good at Letting Go: Possessions mean little to me, but ideas and beliefs are hard for me to give up. And I often try to control situations and relationships, when I should just let them develop, emerge, be what they are meant to be.
  2. Hard-Working: I work in fits and starts. I work hard for awhile and then I need a break, to do something else, or do nothing. And when I face adversity, I tend to lose heart, and energy. This is probably a consequence of personal non-quality #1, and of my metabolism, which is that of a sprinter, not a marathoner.
  3. Good at Commitments: I’m not willing to fight for anything. I avoid debates and arguments. I’m polyamory. Seems like a contradiction of personal non-quality #19, I know. 
  4. Adventurous or Courageous: I tend to believe we appear courageous when we have no choice but to do something risky. Perhaps it’s the fact I’ve always had choices that has made me risk-averse. I’m not complacent, just cowardly. I usually need a push (but see personal non-quality #24 below).
  5. A Leader: I don’t consider this a bad quality, though many do. A lot of people want to be told or shown what to do, and I don’t like doing that. I’m a believer in the wisdom of crowds, in consensus, in non-hierarchical organization, and in self-directed learning (and unschooling). I do the best I can, and try to be a model for others. I try to remove obstacles that prevent others from doing what they do best, or need to do. Other than that, I just suggest ideas, and stay out of the way. 
  6. Good Under Pressure: I handle stress very badly. Push me and I’ll generally push back or walk away. Take me for who am I (and who I am not) or beware… I’ve given up rising to others’ expectations. It was bad for my health.
  7. Grace-ful: I used to call this “presence” but I now use that word to mean something quite different (i.e. the capacity to be present, fully in the moment). And I don’t mean graceful in the sense of physical carriage, though that’s a manifestation of it. I mean it in the sense of being always ‘together’, measured, calm, considered and considerate, focused and relaxed at the same time. I’m working on personal non-qualities #2(a), 3, 4, 14, 15, 17 and 19 (the others I don’t expect to ever acquire), and I suspect that if I succeed with making these seven qualities part of who I am, I will in the process have acquired a modicum of grace.

If you do get to know me, this list might be useful. If you expect me to be any of these things, you are likely to be disappointed, in which case see personal non-quality #24.

I do, however, have a lot of good qualities. But because of personal non-quality #17, you all know what they are.

Category: Human Nature

February 15, 2009

practice

Filed under: Creative Works — Dave Pollard @ 21:20


chickadee 5 by Dave Bonta
chickadee photo (and research) by Dave Bonta

she watches from the cedar tree
this young and patient chickadee
as older birds flit gracefully
to feeder perch and back; she sees
the deft maneuver each trip needs
to back-flap wings, alight and feed
and then retreat, with precious seed.

she tries it once, her timing’s poor
another lands ahead of her –
she didn’t know to take her turn
there seems so much she has to learn;
this gentle complex aerial dance
coordinated in advance,
no single movement left to chance.

chickadee by tinyfishy
photo by tinyfishy

a hundred trials and now she’s deft;
she picks the seeds with larger heft,
and some she opens with her beak
and masters ‘rap on branch‘ technique
to open others, practicing
eternal, joyful ‘rites of wing’,
as one with every living thing.

each day ‘the monster’ trudges through
and spouts a trove of seeds into
the little plastic cylinders,
then wanders back between the firs
and whistles ‘pseudo chick-a-dee
the two-note-falling plaintive plea,
and wishes he could be so free.

our songbird, sated, soars away
and checks reserve supplies each day –
she has a thousand extra stores
in case ‘the monster’ comes no more.
and then it’s time for rest and fun,
to sing and frolic in the sun,
her life has only just begun.

she lives in ‘now time‘, nature’s child,
all is abundant in the wild.  
she lives to sense, to learn, to play,
explore, converse, reflect, convey,
self-manage, love, be present, show
that’s all she’ll ever need to know:
let things pass through,
be one with flow.


for she has learned to ‘know’ her place,
a model now, of Gaia’s grace.

Category: Poetry

February 14, 2009

Links for the Week — February 14, 2009

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 22:49


25things
“25 things about me” collage; thanks to Pete McGregor for #25; all other photos except #8, #10, #16 by the author

Mindmap as Course/Conference Curriculum: My friend Geoff has done something important, world-changing: He has used a mindmap (a tool called Mind42 that lets you post your mindmaps online) to outline a complete conference presentation, with embedded links to blog posts, videos, podcasts, slide presentations, and articles, in the order you should read/view/listen to them, with a lead-in to each from Geoff, in the context of a mindmap showing how they all interrelate. Why is this important?: (1) This format really obviates the need for bums-on-chairs conferences and courses entirely. If I am asked to present at conferences in future, I will use this tool to organize and illustrate my presentation, and show the audience that this is a better way to learn. What about the Q&A? No reason why this can’t be scheduled right on the mindmap, in real time, or using a wiki you can add your question to, or even offer with a link to the speaker by IM or Skype at a specified time. (2) Geoff’s links in the presentation are amazing. Not only are the speakers in these videos excellent (way better than you get in conferences and classrooms), but the sites and tools the videos are hosted on are also noteworthy and bookmark-worthy. And you can go at your own pace, and drill down or skip over what you think merits more/less attention. Wow!

Laugh Your Way to Zen: Communicatrix Colleen provides us with a hilarious guide to discovering and achieving your purpose. Lots more fun than my book, and it has the same destination in mind, and the same caveats on getting there. “Really, how the hell are you supposed to know what the hell it is you want when either you haven’t experienced it yet or it doesn’t exist, or both?” Brilliant.

25 Things About Me: Sharon takes a novel and poetic approach to the exhausted Facebook meme ‘25 things you didn’t know about me’. I’m still thinking about how I would respond — is there anything significant my readers don’t already know about me? The illustration above is a collage I put together that might tell you a bit about what’s important and meaningful to me in the meantime.

Joe Bageant on our Prison/Asylum Culture: My buddy Joe writes about the deep and broad psychological malaise in America, and the efforts of psychologists to heal it, exploit it, and keep the lid on it.

Obama Afraid to Admit Bank Insolvency?: A leading British economist says Obama knows that the major US banks like CitiBank are insolvent and will have to be nationalized or allowed to fail, but won’t say so because it would set off a market panic. Thanks to Valdis Krebs for the link.

The Art of Hosting on Video: Three people pointed me to this video featuring three facilitators I know through Art of Hosting. This video has a really good quality picture — why can’t YouTube do this?)

drought map
Top: Major agricultural producers (dark green); Bottom: Countries facing drought in 2009 (red) – another crisis looms. Thanks to Dave Smith for the link. And NOAA suggests seven of these areas (SW North America, E South America, S Europe, N Africa, S Africa, SE Asia, W Australia) will soon face 1000-year-long dust bowls. Thanks to my Oz colleague Kim Sbarcea for that link.

The Future of the American West?: Photographer-travel writer Erik Gauger travels precariously to the hard-to-reach, spectacular Coyote Buttes in Arizona, and speculates on what it will be like when the American West runs out of water and the world goes plunk.

The Art of Memory: Tuzz writes about the difference between men’s and women’s brains, Botticelli, and how we remember. The Loci/Memory Palace technique she describes (for those wanting to learn it) is explained here.

The Amish on Technology: Tree points us to an article on how the Amish use technology:

A few years ago they installed a massive, $400,000 computer-controlled milling machine behind the horse stable. This massive half-million dollar tool is about the dimensions of a delivery truck. It is operated by [the Amish patriarch's] 14-year old daughter, in a bonnet. With this computer controlled machine she makes parts for grid-free horse and buggy living.

One can’t say “electricity-free” because I kept finding electricity in Amish homes. Once you have a huge diesel generator running behind your barn to power the refrigeration units that store the milk (the main cash crop for the Amish), it’s a small thing to stick on a small electrical generator.  For re-charging batteries, say. You can find battery-powered calculators, flashlights, electric fences, and generator-powered electric welders on Amish farms… Nowadays solar panels are becoming popular among the Amish. With these they can get electricity without being tied to the grid, which was their main worry. Solar is used primarily for utilitarian chores like pumping water, but it will slowly [penetrate] into the household. As do most innovations. The Amish use disposable diapers (why not?), chemical fertilizers, pesticides, and are big boosters of genetically modified corn.

All is never as it seems. Their aversion to reliance on the grid is probably wise. I’d respect them more if they didn’t abuse animals.

The Family: The Hard Right’s Religious Cult: An underground reporter infiltrated the evangelical extreme’s most powerful clique, replete with leading Congressmen, and paints a frightening picture of what might happen if fans of the Rapture capture the White House. Thanks to Dale for the link.

Just for Fun:

Adobe’s site has an intriguing “house of cards” animation (it takes a while to load). Some of their case studies are also worth a look (especially photoshop apps ‘episode 2′ and ‘episode 5′). Thanks to my neighbour Brenda for the links.

A really serious biker has made a 20,000 mile tandem bicycle trip from the North to South extremes of the Americas. Thanks to Tree for the link, and the one that follows.

Have a 10 foot by 110 foot garden to spare? You can grow enough grain there to make 120 loaves of bread per harvest.

Obama’s stimulus package is lampooned by a libertarian group as if it were a ‘performance enhancing drug’ in a send-up commercial. Thanks to Sojourner for the link.

And my friend Ivor says that, if we have ‘comedy clubs’ to get together to laugh about things we find funny, why not ‘rage clubs’ to get together to rant about what drives us crazy?

Thoughts for the Week:

Crisis Down Under: My thoughts go out to those in SE Australia coping with the horrific and tragic fires and in NE Australia coping with devastating floods. Bloggers and Twitterers and other social networkers in Oz have played an important role in coordinating disaster response and communicating information. Hats off to them! Thanks to Cheryl for the link.

Lines From a Robot Owner’s Manual: More amazing work from Dave B. I’m just in awe of this guy’s writing ability, and imagination.

Bestiary, by Joanna Macy (thanks to Eric Lilius for the link):

BESTIARY

Short-tailed albatross
             Whooping crane
                          Gray wolf
                                    Woodland caribou
                                                Hawksbill sea turtle
                                                               Rhinoceros

The list of endangered species keeps growing longer every year.
With too many names to hold in our mind, how do we honor the passing of life?
What funerals or farewells are appropriate?

Reed warbler
           Swallowtail butterfly
                         Bighorn sheep
                                       Indian python
                                                   Howler monkey
                                                               Sperm whale
                                                                            Blue whale

Dive me deep, brother whale, in this time we have left.
Deep in our mother ocean where I once swam, gilled and finned.
The salt from those early seas still runs in my tears. Tears aren’t enough anymore.
Give me a song, a song for a sadness too vast for my heart, for a rage too wild for my throat.

Giant sable antelope
           Wyoming toad
                     Grizzly bear
                                Brown bear
                                            Bactrian camel
                                                         Nile crocodile
                                                                    Chinese alligator

Ooze me, alligator, in the mud whence I came.
Belly me slow in the rich primordial soup, cradle of our molecules.
Let me wallow again, before we drain your swamp and pave it over.

Gray bat
         Ocelot
                  Pocket mouse
                              Sockeye salmon
                                            Tasmanian kangaroo
                                                           Hawaiian goose
                                                                          Audouin’s seagull

Quick, lift off. Sweep me high over the coast and out, farther out. Don’t land here.
Oilspills coat the beach, rocks, sea. I cannot spread my wings glued with tar.
Fly me from what we have done, fly me far.

Golden parakeet
           West African ostrich
                       Florida panther
                                 Galapagos penguin
                                               Imperial pheasant
                                                              Snow leopard
                                                                         Mexican prairie dog

Hide me in a hedgerow, badger. Can’t you find one?
Dig me a tunnel through leaf-mold and roots, under the trees that once defined our fields.
My heart is bulldozed and plowed over. Burrow me a labyrinth deeper than longing.

Thick-billed parrot
           San Francisco garter snake
                     Desert bandicoot
                               Molokai thrush
                                         California condor
                                                      Lotus blue butterfly

Crawl me out of here, caterpillar. Spin me a cocoon.
Wind me to sleep in a shroud of silk, where in patience my bones will dissolve.
I’ll wait as long as all creation if only it will come again — and I take wing.

Atlantic ridley turtle
          Coho salmon
                    Helmuted hornbill
                              Marine otter
                                        Humpback whale
                                                  Stellar sea-lion
                                                              Monk seal

Swim me out beyond the ice floes, mama. Where are you?
Boots squeeze my ribs, clubs drum my fur, the white world goes black with the taste of my blood.

Gibbon
        Sand gazelle
                 Swamp deer
                           Musk deer
                                     Cheetah
                                              Chinchilla
                                                         Asian elephant
                                                                    African elephant

Sway me slowly through the jungle.
There still must be jungle somewhere, my heart drips with green secrets.
Hose me down by the waterhole; there is buckshot in my hide.
Tell me old stories while you can remember.

Desert tortoise
         Crested ibis
                   Hook-billed kite
                               Mountain zebra
                                           Mexican bobcat
                                                        Andrew’s frigatebird

In the time when his world, like ours, was ending, Noah had a list of the animals, too.
We picture him standing by the gangplank, calling their names, checking them off on his scroll.
Now we also are checking them off.

Ivory-billed woodpecker
            Indus river dolphin
                            West Indian manatee
                                             Wood stork

We reenact Noah’s ancient drama, but in reverse, like a film running backwards, the animals exiting.

Ferret
             Gorilla
                           Jaguar
                                         Wolf

Your tracks are growing fainter. Wait. Wait. This is a hard time.
Don’t leave us alone in a world we have wrecked.

February 11, 2009

Where I Might Be Meant to Live

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 23:57


dymaxion map 3 - where i belong
As you probably know, I’ve decided I’m ready to walk away from our civilization culture and just be nobody-but-myself:

I’m going to find someplace natural, someplace warm and peaceful, probably near forests and ocean beaches, perhaps build a cabana or a yurt, live mostly off local and home-grown foods, and reconnect with uncivilized life, with my instincts, with my senses and emotions, learn to pay attention, live in now time, play, reflect, explore and learn about the local ecosystem, and just be present. And from that stillness, I’m going to imagine and write about what’s possible.

You’re welcome to come and visit, and stay as long as you like.

This place might evolve into a natural Intentional Community by force of gravity — if enough of you also walk away, and visit, and stay, who knows what is possible?

But where? I’ve identified the following criteria:

  • A place warm enough not to need heating.
  • In or near forests and beaches.
  • Peaceful.
  • Not overcrowded.
  • Reasonably sustainable when the economy and culture collapse.
  • A place where the people nearby have a high sense of well-being, by their own standards, and ideally are progressive in their thinking.
  • Connectivity: not too remote for visitors to access, and with high-speed Internet available.
  • Proximity to the current locations of those I love.

Some readers have suggested that if I don’t choose well, civilization and its problems will quickly arrive in the community I live in, and I’ll be back where I started.

I’ve done some preliminary research:

  • I’ve visited (last year) and will be visiting (this year) some places that would seem to meet these criteria.
  • I’ve researched average temperatures, population density, and local economics, politics and social cultures for the areas that would seem to qualify.
  • I’ve looked at the NEF’s Happy Planet Index for each country, and drilled down to the Life Satisfaction Index. I also looked at a British study of Subjective well-being. And I answered the NEF survey so I could assess my own gauge of personal well-being, and also understand what measures they used to assess this (emotional well-being, life satisfaction, vitality, self-esteem, resilience, autonomy, personal capacities, support relationships, sense of belonging and trust, and work satisfaction — a pretty good list). This is worth a read — their list of 5 things you can do to improve your subjective well-being resonate strongly with my list of 10 things I practice every day: improve connections, physical and mental activity, attention skills, new learning, and giving/generosity. 

With that very incomplete and subjective data, I put together a preliminary list of ten places, shown on the map above. In no particular order:

  1. Nature Coast — Southeastern US
  2. Belize — Central America
  3. Nicoya/Cloud Forest — Costa Rica
  4. Almapá — Brasil
  5. Curitiba/Santa Catarina — Brasil
  6. Açores — Off Coast of Portugal
  7. Esperance — Western Australia
  8. Queensland — Northeastern Australia
  9. and 10. Pacific Islands — Palau, Société Islands (e.g. Bora Bora), and perhaps even Hawai’i

The hardest thing for me in compiling this list was excluding some stunningly beautiful places I’ve visited that are just too cold. I could easily come up with twenty places I’ve seen, or would like to see, that would be on this list otherwise. I also reluctantly took some Caribbean islands I’ve visited off the list because they are overpopulated and unsustainable.

What do you think? Does any one stand out for you? Any obvious clunkers? What’s missing I should check out?

And, perhaps the most important question: If you were to walk away from civilization and live a radically simple, natural life, where would you go?

February 10, 2009

Walking Away

Filed under: Preparing for Civilization's End — Dave Pollard @ 22:35


nevar whitfield sand creature
Photo by Second Life artist Nevar Whitfield

Several of you gave me a hard time over my article on co-ops, specifically because I said I wouldn’t personally be part of the co-op movement. I’m not sure whether the objections are semantic (i.e. if I’m writing about it, I’m part of it) or substantive (i.e. if I’m not going to do some of the real spade work, shut up already). I won’t argue semantics, but I will argue substance.

Let me try to say it more clearly: I am walking away. I give up on trying to fight civilization culture in the trenches, inside the system. Call me a quitter or a coward, that’s fine. It is not in me to struggle for years to try to make hopelessly broken and dysfunctional systems work a little better. It is not in me to work hard against people who are too stupid to understand they are killing this planet, people who have money and power and momentum and numbers and who have billions of ignorant people following them blindly and obediently and doing precisely what they tell them to do, for no other reason than that it’s the only life they know.

I love activists, but I am not an activist at heart. I am an artist and a dreamer. I write reasonably well, and I imagine possibilities reasonably well. That is what I am going to practice, mostly, in the years to come. That is what I enjoy doing. I think it is useful. Whether it is valuable right now to those fighting the good fight, whether it is enough not to disappoint you, is no longer my concern. I am through with rising to other people’s expectations.

We live in a prison culture, and in this horrifically overcrowded and unnatural civilizational prison we have all become mentally ill. As David Suzuki says, we are in a huge vehicle headed at light speed towards a brick wall, and we’re all arguing over the seating arrangements. There is no helping us. I’m bailing out before it gets messy.

This is what happened when previous civilizations ended. As they slid into precipitous decline, a large number of the members of the civilizations that Ronald Wright and Jared Diamond have chronicled, just walked away. They rediscovered and relearned a simpler and easier way to live and make a living, one that was small-scale, community-based, egalitarian, resilient and principled. The civilization and systems they walked away from simply became more trouble than they were worth.

We’re there again, at that tipping point.

I’m out of here. I’m going to find someplace natural, someplace warm and peaceful, probably near forests and ocean beaches, perhaps build a cabana or a yurt, live mostly off local and home-grown foods, and reconnect with uncivilized life, with my instincts, with my senses and emotions, learn to pay attention, live in now time, play, reflect, explore and learn about the local ecosystem, and just be present. And from that stillness, I’m going to imagine and write about what’s possible.

You’re welcome to come and visit, and stay as long as you like. You can tell me how civilization is becoming unbearable, hellish. But don’t try to recruit me to fight against those trying to make civilization serve their self-interests a little longer. That’s a war I’m through participating in. It’s a civil war, and there will be no winners.

I’ll keep writing about intentional communities, natural enterprises, gift and other alternative economies, co-operatives, the value of innovation and collaboration and research and consensus and facilitation and other model behaviours and ways of living and making a living. And I’ll keep applauding the brave and energetic souls who build these models and embody these practices. But this weary body and tired heart will be elsewhere, living a life of modest joy.

earth…had better things to offer — crops without cultivation,
fruit on the bough, honey in the hollow oak.

no one tore the ground with ploughshares
or parcelled out the land
or swept the sea with dipping oars –
the shore was the world’s end.

clever human nature, victim of your inventions,
disastrously creative,
why cordon cities with towered walls?
why arm for war?

(Ovid, 60 BC)

Category: Our Culture

February 9, 2009

Co-operatives: The Feeling is Mutual

Filed under: Preparing for Civilization's End — Dave Pollard @ 20:37


Virtuous Natural Cycle
The virtuous cycle of the Natural Economy, described in this earlier post

A co-operative, basically, is a form of organization whose members share a common purpose (not earning a profit) and whose members are all equal. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t differentiate between the role of the members — residents, employees, managers, customers, devotees, doesn’t matter. There are lots of variations on the theme, and many adulterations, but true co-ops meet the definition above.

They are different from other forms of organization that are hierarchical or have different levels of authority (not all equal). They are different from other forms of organization that have diverse objectives (shareholders, managers, employees and customers of a corporation, for example).

If you’re a member of Mountain Equipment Co-op (a Canadian co-op with three million members) for example, your shared purpose is sustainable outdoor recreation. Its members: the customers, the employees, the managers and the community residents, all meet on the ski trails or the mountain bike paths or the factory floor and talk about this purpose. The result is improved products and services, innovations, process improvements, collaborations, better health, community activities, improved safety, activism, customer satisfaction, and fun. The members work it out, together, as equals.

Co-operatives, mutual organizations and benevolent societies (all substantially forms of the same thing) have been around for nearly a millennium (they existed long before the industrial revolution). In many countries they did, and in some cases still do, make up a significant proportion of the economy. But they have been in decline for a century for two reasons: money, and greed. Hierarchical, limited-liability corporations are much more effective at raising, earning and hoarding, money than co-ops. Greedy self-serving lawyers, corporatists, robber barons and politicians have worked hand-in-hand to give corporations and their shareholders rights, tax incentives and privileges that no other form of organization, and indeed no person, has. We are now seeing the results — a soulless, unsustainable, collapsing, boom-and-bust economy dependent on endless growth of consumer spending and indebtedness.

We have no choice but to migrate to what economist Herman Daly calls a steady-state economy. In such an economy, corporations will have no advantage over co-operatives, and will in fact be disadvantaged by their bureaucracies, hierarchies, internal competitiveness and inherent distrust. And since they’re not-for-profit, co-operatives pay no taxes.

The age of the co-operative is coming, again. We are going to see them as the way to self-organize and self-manage businesses, as Natural Enterprises. We are going to see them as the way to self-organize and self-manage neighbourhoods, as Natural Communities. We are going to see them as the way to self-organize and self-manage learning through unschooling, as Natural Education.

If you want to set up a co-operative, know this: you do not have to incorporate or register in your local jurisdiction or country to operate as a co-operative. Don’t be bullied. Some jurisdictions won’t let you use the word “co-op” in your name unless you’re incorporated or registered. So don’t use the word. Just adhere to the values and principles, used for centuries all over the world:

Values: Co-operatives are based on the values of self-help, self-responsibility, democracy, equality, equity and solidarity. In the tradition of their founders, co-operative members believe in the ethical values of honesty, openness, social responsibility and caring for others.

Principles:

  1. Voluntary and Open Membership: Co-operatives are voluntary organisations, open to all persons able to use their services and willing to accept the responsibilities of membership, without gender, social, racial, political or religious discrimination.
  2. Democratic Member Control: Co-operatives are democratic organisations controlled by their members, who actively participate in setting their policies and making decisions. Men and women serving as elected representatives are accountable to the membership. In primary co-operatives members have equal voting rights (one member, one vote) and co-operatives at other levels are also organised in a democratic manner.
  3. Member Economic Participation: Members contribute equitably to, and democratically control, the capital of their co-operative. At least part of that capital is usually the common property of the co-operative. Members usually receive limited compensation, if any, on capital subscribed as a condition of membership. Members allocate surpluses for any or all of the following purposes: developing their co-operative, possibly by setting up reserves, part of which at least would be indivisible; benefiting members in proportion to their transactions with the co-operative; and supporting other activities approved by the membership.
  4. Autonomy and Independence: Co-operatives are autonomous, self-help organisations controlled by their members. If they enter to agreements with other organisations, including governments, or raise capital from external sources, they do so on terms that ensure democratic control by their members and maintain their co-operative autonomy.
  5. Education, Training and Information: Co-operatives provide education and training for their members, elected representatives, managers, and employees so they can contribute effectively to the development of their co-operatives. They inform the general public – particularly young people and opinion leaders – about the nature and benefits of co-operation.
  6. Co-operation among Co-operatives: Co-operatives serve their members most effectively and strengthen the co-operative movement by working together through local, national, regional and international structures.
  7. Concern for Community: Co-operatives work for the sustainable development of their communities through policies approved by their members.

If those values and principles aren’t a breath of fresh air to you, just take a look at the articles of incorporation, mission or values statement of any for-profit corporation.

My book Finding the Sweet Spot (see sidebar at right) provides a lot of other guidance for potential co-op founders and members: deciding what you will do, finding partners, doing world-class research, coming up with innovations that meet real human needs, building networks, collaboration, and resilience, and operating on principle (responsible, sustainable, joyful etc.)

Some great potential co-operatives for the 21st century, especially as stuff starts to fall apart:

  • farm and food co-ops (in New Zealand, just about the whole food industry is co-operative)
  • clothing production (the famed Mondragón co-op, in Spain, is in this and several other industries)
  • local enterprise financing (credit unions are a form of co-op)
  • local renewable energy co-ops (community-based grids)
  • health co-ops (especially in home care and preventative care)
  • education co-ops (community-based unschooling and takes-a-village child-raising networks)
  • building/living co-ops (intentional communities, co-operative building, co-op housing)

Co-ops could provide everything we really need to live a comfortable and pleasant life. This is entirely consistent with the relocalization movement, which, thanks to peak oil, global warming, corporatist excesses and unsustainable economics, is gaining ground and likely to continue to do so.

I, however, won’t be part of this important and exciting movement. I’ll write about it. I’ll tell the important stories. I’ll help people connect. I’ll outline the models that work, and those that don’t, and explain why. I’ll help people imagine what’s possible. That’s what I do. Someone else needs to do the spade work: do the research and the innovation, and make it happen, meeting important needs, one business at a time, community by community, around the world.

It’s not that hard, promise.

February 7, 2009

Links of the Week — Saturday February 7, 2009

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 18:14


twitterflock
A tag cloud/Wordle of the bios of those following me on twitter, via twittersheep. Thanks to Dave Snowden for the link. “Love” (in blue at the bottom) is way too small. Compare it to Patti Digh’s followers. Hmmm.

Wrapping up loose ends, but this will take awhile yet. This is going to be a year of fundamental change, though, for me and, I suspect, most of us. But I plan to keep blogging, no matter what — this strange public writing of private thoughts, and all of you, are now in my blood. Thank you, for the nudges, the encouragement, and for what you do in the world. Keep practicing, and stay close — we’re going to need each other.

You. Here. Now.: Colleen is blogging furiously and daily and turning out huge volumes of stuff. She reminds me of that study of the two groups of apprentice potters. The first group was told there would be an award for the single best pot produced by someone in the group in a week. The second group was told there would be an award for the person in the group who produced the most pots in the week. At the end of the week, it turned out that all the best works were produced by members of the second group. Well, Colleen’s best work of a prolific week is this one, which contains this wise and remarkable advice:

If you desire a change to something new, do everything in your power to make your peace with where you are now… So I sit in my place, and I work on my stuff, pulling on a thread of an idea, decluttering and cleaning surface by surface, mending and patching and making better rather than making do…

I like to think that with each circle around the mountain, I run into the same problem at a slightly higher elevation, as Julia Cameron talks about in The Artist’s Way. But through all of it, no matter how bad it gets sometimes—and it does, even in between great days, and sometimes smack in the middle of the best of all days—I stay here, now, or if I wander, I put the puppy on the mat and start again.

Where are you now? Where do you want to go? And how can you be here now to get yourself somewhere else?

Go.

Seeing Possibilities: Elizabeth Sawin describes the importance of imagining what’s possible. Thanks to Tree for the link. Excerpt:

Your job as a parent… is to believe in the goodness and the talent of this person under your care. You must be the one who sees what she could become. You may not like some of the choices she will make along the way. Even so, you are the one best qualified to see her potential and reflect it back to her. So I am trying to practice this art, and in doing so, I am coming to believe that it is a useful attitude not just for the nurturing of a child but also for changing the world. In both endeavors seeing possibilities is part of the work of realizing them.

I’ve found that it is not hard to see and believe in the potential of my own children, but believing in the potential of human beings in general requires letting go of layers and layers of cynicism and despair. Educated, sophisticated people don’t talk this way. We don’t take the evidence of wisdom or skill or courage in one place or one person as proof that those abilities could reside in every one of us. It’s much easier to assume that the great peacemakers – and the ordinary ones in our families and neighborhoods – are different from the rest of us. It is easier to assume that something sets us apart from the likes of Aldo Leopold or Rachel Carson than it is to try to speak up for people and nature with our own voices.

But, whenever I let go of my learned sophistication and really open myself to look I find evidence all around me that people are capable of great wisdom – loving wisdom – and so much creativity. We create soaring music and artwork full of color. At our wisest we work with nature, on organic farms, or with “Living Machines” that assemble plants and microbes to purify polluted water. We pursue justice, we create cooperatives, fair trade programs, and soup kitchens. 

How to Unschool: PS Pirro announces her upcoming book on unschooling and points us to an excellent unschooling website, Rejoycing.

We Have All Been Here Before: List of the 19 recessions in the last two centuries. Several of them were true depressions. The one that looks the most like today, the Long Depression, started in 1873 and lasted 23 years, punctuated briefly by the scourge of the robber barons. This time around we have robber brokers and robber bankers. The Russians have recently been through all this, and Dmitri Orlov tells us how bad it will get here – see especially the last 2 slides. Thanks to Martin-Éric Racine for the links.

The Other Half of the Job of the Blogosphere: In recent years I have largely given up on the mainstream media, because they are simply not doing their job. I still look at the NYT (at least the article headers and editorials), and I rely on aggregators like Common Dreams to pick out the best of the indymedia. And I will acknowledge that the indymedia and the blogosphere do a vastly better job of analyzing the reported news than the mainstream media. But what’s missing, the other half of our job, is reporting what the mainstream media are not reporting — what’s happening locally (and is therefore actually actionable, unlike most of what the mainstream media report), what’s happening behind closed doors, what’s important that isn’t characterized by an ‘event’ (chronic suffering, environmental and attitudinal changes, observations about the national and global psyche), what isn’t happening that should be. The reason I don’t read many political blogs is that I find they mostly simply analyze and challenge what the mainstream media report (or more accurately mis-report), and that is rarely useful or actionable, and leaves all the important news out. Although my blogroll is large, I still wish I could find more blogs that described what’s really going on in the world, at a higher level, stuff that connects us all and that we can do something about, if only we were more aware of it. End of rant.

I Can Lend You That: The Gift Economy made virtual. Lend books, music, films to people you love, in your Natural Community.

Underground Civilization: Scientists study a huge leaf-cutter ant colony’s staggeringly complex excavations, including sophisticated ventilation, farming, housing and waste management ecosystems. Thanks to Eric Lilius for the link.

Davos Risks 2009: The Swiss gnomes take their annual shot at listing the biggest threats to the global economy, this time while it’s in the midst of falling apart. Visually intriguing, but rife with imaginative poverty and rear-view vision. 

Major Shift in Global Economic Power Imminent?: The UK and German governments are proposing an economic superpower/New World Order that would take over global control of economic policy from national governments. Meanwhile, Russia’s Putin wants to end the role of the $US as the world’s reserve currency. Mike Ruppert says this is further along than it appears, and we should see mega-announcements soon. Thanks to Tree for the link.

Snow Leopard: Pete takes a stunning picture of a snow leopard in a zoo, and then ponders on the reality of a life in captivity.

notes from the road
Image by Eric Gauger from Notes From the Road travel/photoblog; thanks to Craig De Ruisseau for the link

Just for Fun:

Welcome To, by Ani Di Franco – amazing lyrics: “Welcome to the precipice between groundlessness and flight”. Thanks to Tuzz for the link.

Elan, by Secret Garden. Thanks to Cheryl for the link.


Thoughts for the Week:

From William Tozier: “I do work, I create stuff, to better understand the path from idealized goal to realized value.” Think about this in the context of the work you do. This is why ideas are cheap, and ideologies dangerous. It’s all about the journey, the connections, the learning.

From Dave Bonta:

FROM WHERE I SIT

right beneath where i’m sitting
there’s soil that hasn’t tasted rain in 150 years.
i’ve seen bodies down there, dessicated corpses,
none of them human.
to me, every permanent structure
is an occasion for melancholy.
a home built to last represents a life sentence
for some plot of land —
perhaps that’s why i take such delight in ruins.

once when i was in my teens,
for several hours i was convinced
that everyone but me had already gone to heaven,
leaving behind only some sort of solid hologram.
i was excited: i pictured myself being
like the Wandering Jew of legend,
all alone with the earth.
anyone who wants to go to heaven,
i still maintain, doesn’t deserve it.

i didn’t plan it this way, but it so happens
that my writing chair occupies the only spot in the house
with a view out in all four directions.
a moment ago I watched a titmouse
land on a branch of a small mulberry
on the other side of the window closest to me.
he peered intently in my direction
then fluttered right in front of the window for a second
before flying off.
he was of course investigating his own reflection;
i was merely part of the background.
some people see animals and want to touch them,
want to have them for pets.
my hope is always that they will ignore me.

i gaze out through the storm door
at sun on an icy snowpack,
dark trees rooted in a ground that hurts the eyes.

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