“I think there is an unspoken subtext in our national political culture right now. In fact I think it's a subtext to our society. I think that a lot of people are carrying around in their heads, unarticulated and even in some cases unnoticed, a sense that the wheels are coming off the trolley and the trolley off the tracks. That in some deep and fundamental way things have broken down and can't be fixed, or won't be fixed any time soon. That our pollsters are preoccupied with ‘right track’ and ‘wrong track’ but missing the number of people who think the answer to ‘How are things going in America?’ is ‘Off the tracks and hurtling forward, toward an unknown destination.’”
Peggy Noonan, Wall Street Journal, October 27, 2005
“We live at a time of a heightened sense that civilizations are themselves vulnerable. Events around the world—terrorist attacks, violent social upheavals, and even natural catastrophes—have left us with an uncanny sense of menace. We seem to be aware of a shared vulnerability that we cannot quite name. I suspect that this feeling has provoked the widespread intolerance that we see around us today—from all points on the political spectrum. It is as though, without our insistence that our outlook is correct, the outlook itself might collapse. Perhaps if we could give a name to our shared sense of vulnerability, we could find better ways to live with it.”
Jonathan Lear, Chapter 1 of Radical Hope
Some of us may be relieved by the results of med-term elections in the US, but only mildly relieved. The sense of vulnerability is still with us, and will probably last the rest of our lives, as we face a world in which almost none of our ideas about how to live remain relevant.
This is the kind of world in which Native Americans found themselves in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Not only their traditions, but very deep underlying assumptions about good and evil were challenged, often overthrown, by radically altered circumstances.
In Radical Hope, Lear illustrates the cultural genius with which one tribe, the Crow nation, approached an unknowable but inescapable future. Chief among their resources was the belief that there is a higher order of reality from which guidance may be obtained. Through dreams, the Crow received instructions that helped them to transcend or, more accurately, transmute their traditional stories, evolving narratives more useful in an unrecognizably altered reality.
Analysis, reason, common sense, organization, radical action: these alone will not prepare us for our possible futures. Only the alchemy of imagination—envisioning in new ways—will ultimately suffice.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Hack the publishing system on November 1
I just love this idea---and the book sounds good, too. ;-) Please join me:
Help Us Hack the Publishing System!
Worldchanging Team
http://www.worldchanging.com/archives/005175.html
On November first, at eleven minutes after eleven a.m. (Pacific time), please go to Amazon and buy the book.
Our book is not Big. It is thick; it is packed with solutions; it is, we think, smart and important.
But we don't have the blockbuster machine working for us. We have no marketing budget at all. Our publisher, Abrams, is terrific, but they are not a big company. They have a comparatively tiny promotions budget and don't have the kind of clout with booksellers to manufacture bestsellers.
Here's what we do have: you...
The Amazon list is hugely influential, indeed it's one of the main ways booksellers and media determine what books are "moving" and thus which books they should pay attention to. It's not the New York Times bestseller list, but it's the next best thing.
And Amazon, you see, ranks books based on their sales over the previous 24 hours. This means that it is possible, through coordinated action, to hack the system by getting a large number of people to buy the book at the same time.
Since, most of the time, purchases of books on Amazon are not coordinated (except in the case of right-wing political books, and that's another story), it is possible for a relatively small number of people to time their purchases right and, for a short period of time, drive the book they wish to support up the charts.
Since we're already doing extraordinarily well on Amazon just through word of mouth, we are actually in a position to quite conceivably make Worldchanging the number one book in the nation on the largest online bookseller, if just for one day.
In that one day, however, every other bookseller, reviewer, producer and store manager will hear about Worldchanging, and our odds of getting the traction we need to bring worldchanging ideas into the public debate will dramatically increase.
Here's what we're asking:
On November first, at eleven minutes after eleven a.m. (Pacific time), please go to Amazon and buy the book.
Better still, go to Amazon and buy the book on the first, and in the meantime blog, email, talk up the book and do whatever you can to encourage everyone who you think cares about sustainability, innovation and social change, everyone who wants more solutions in the public debate, to join you on buying the book on 11/1 at 11:11 a.m. Please help spread the word.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Radical Hope: thin and thick concepts
Without explaining in detail, Lear uses the language of “thin” and “thick” concepts in his discussion of deep cultural values. I’ve found this an interesting tangent.
This language, it seems to me, amplifies Donald E. Brown’s list of Human Universals. That is, virtually all human cultures feature prohibition of incest, for example, but what constitutes incest varies from culture to culture. The universal taboo is a “thin” concept; a “thick” and non-transferable concept of incest might be a deep prohibition against relations between first cousins.
Reviews of Radical Hope:
The Globe and Mail
A.M. New York
The great 20th-century philosopher Bernard Williams… argued that there was a deep distinction to be made between what he called "thick" and "thin" concepts of proper behavior in the world.
A thin concept, like "good," could be understood in terms of abstract propositions, but a thick concept, like "courage," was so complexly interwoven into the kind of traditional society likely to recognize it that it became, in Williams's terms, a "piece of knowledge" for that society, a form of understanding, too deep, as Wordsworth said, for tears, that made that society work. But that kind of knowledge, Williams suggested, does not travel well. It cannot easily be lifted from one world and inserted into another. The motives underlying much of the action of Homer's Iliad are not, for instance, easily understood by anyone today.”
---John Clute scifi.com
This language, it seems to me, amplifies Donald E. Brown’s list of Human Universals. That is, virtually all human cultures feature prohibition of incest, for example, but what constitutes incest varies from culture to culture. The universal taboo is a “thin” concept; a “thick” and non-transferable concept of incest might be a deep prohibition against relations between first cousins.
Reviews of Radical Hope:
The Globe and Mail
A.M. New York
Friday, October 20, 2006
Radical Hope
I've mentioned previously the book Radical Hope by Jonathan Lear. I'm currently in the middle of it, finding it very thought-provoking and hoping some of you might be tempted to read and discuss it via blog(s).
It is a small, dense volume, written with the rigor and narrative conventions of philosophical works. Lear takes as his text the historical record regarding the destruction of the Crow nation, particularly the life, acts, and commentary of Plenty Coups, a notable Crow chief of that period. Lear employs these historical circumstances to inquire into what it means for human beings to experience cultural vulnerability and to face cultural devastation, with hope and imagination.
There are no copies in the Clackamas County library system, unfortunately, and only one in the Multnomah County system. People outside the Portland metro area may be more fortunate. (If you decide to buy the book, however, it would be lovely if you bought it from Powell's, our independent bookstore, via this link: Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation by Jonathan Lear)
It is a small, dense volume, written with the rigor and narrative conventions of philosophical works. Lear takes as his text the historical record regarding the destruction of the Crow nation, particularly the life, acts, and commentary of Plenty Coups, a notable Crow chief of that period. Lear employs these historical circumstances to inquire into what it means for human beings to experience cultural vulnerability and to face cultural devastation, with hope and imagination.
There are no copies in the Clackamas County library system, unfortunately, and only one in the Multnomah County system. People outside the Portland metro area may be more fortunate. (If you decide to buy the book, however, it would be lovely if you bought it from Powell's, our independent bookstore, via this link: Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation by Jonathan Lear)
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Where does agriculture begin?
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Brainstorm, please
So, if I were to do something...formal...with my little informal blog-posted drawings, what might that be? A series of prints? A wee art book? A single montage/collage? What additional imagery might be suitable? Off the top of your heads, now...
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Midlife romance
It’s a complicated, er, proposition.
[I]
When you’re young, you tend to move in crowds of the equally young and eligible, at school, nightclubs, sporting events, church youth groups, malls. Nature and society both conspire to find you a partner. You may have to beat volunteers off with a stick.
But once past the age of reproduction, nature and society both lose interest in your love life. Even if you return to school, or keep up your snowboarding skills, most of the folks around you are ineligibly young. Odds have increased astronomically that anyone your age you meet in a bar is a confirmed alcoholic. Church may still provide a meeting place for believers, but there aren’t many organized services for those who list “spiritual not religious” in their online profiles.
Yes, there is always online dating. I know a couple of folks who found life partners that way, a couple who thought they had but were later disillusioned, quite a few who made good friends, and a roughly equal number who simply gave up, discouraged. It’s probably a good option for those who tend to fall in the middle of the bell curve. They will, naturally, have a larger pool of potential partners from which to draw.
The rest of us are left perplexed: how do you find someone whose eccentricities are sufficiently complementary?
[I]
When you’re young, you tend to move in crowds of the equally young and eligible, at school, nightclubs, sporting events, church youth groups, malls. Nature and society both conspire to find you a partner. You may have to beat volunteers off with a stick.
But once past the age of reproduction, nature and society both lose interest in your love life. Even if you return to school, or keep up your snowboarding skills, most of the folks around you are ineligibly young. Odds have increased astronomically that anyone your age you meet in a bar is a confirmed alcoholic. Church may still provide a meeting place for believers, but there aren’t many organized services for those who list “spiritual not religious” in their online profiles.
Yes, there is always online dating. I know a couple of folks who found life partners that way, a couple who thought they had but were later disillusioned, quite a few who made good friends, and a roughly equal number who simply gave up, discouraged. It’s probably a good option for those who tend to fall in the middle of the bell curve. They will, naturally, have a larger pool of potential partners from which to draw.
The rest of us are left perplexed: how do you find someone whose eccentricities are sufficiently complementary?
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Human aggression, or something

No, I don't believe humans are "aggressive by nature" either. More precisely, humans possess impulses which might be considered aggressive, along with a lot of other impulses (which vary from person to person in bell curves like the one doodled for sociability, below). The aggressive impulse has survival value, but so do many impulses, and it makes no more sense—less, in fact—to label the species "aggressive," than to call it "sociable."
Impulses don't play out one at a time, nor do they function in a vacuum. There is a constant interaction, a complex dance, between multiple impulses, persons, social structures, sensory impressions and so on. One little drawing comes nowhere close to describing it fully.
October Villanelle
We dance because we must—
Dance, my friends, or weep:
All dignity is dust.
Past melody, we trust,
There is a beat to keep;
Therefore, dance we must.
Each movement we adjust
First to glide, then to leap,
Though dignity is dust.
We seldom pause for crust
Or cup, and briefly sleep;
Of course we dance because we must.
And always we are left nonplussed:
As pastorales, heedless, sweep
Our dignity to dust.
We are unable to distrust
Such rhythms, buried deep;
We only dance because we must
Know dignity is dust.
--Lisa Wilcox
Dance, my friends, or weep:
All dignity is dust.
Past melody, we trust,
There is a beat to keep;
Therefore, dance we must.
Each movement we adjust
First to glide, then to leap,
Though dignity is dust.
We seldom pause for crust
Or cup, and briefly sleep;
Of course we dance because we must.
And always we are left nonplussed:
As pastorales, heedless, sweep
Our dignity to dust.
We are unable to distrust
Such rhythms, buried deep;
We only dance because we must
Know dignity is dust.
--Lisa Wilcox
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
BIG history
These sound like potentially fascinating books. Have you read any of them? No? Yes? If so, what did you think?
Maps of Time: An Introduction to Big History
by David Christian
Navigating World History: Historians Create a Global Past
by Patrick Manning
The Ends of the Earth: From Togo to Turkmenistan, from Iran to Cambodia--A Journey to the Frontiers of Anarchy
by Robert D. Kaplan
Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature
by William Cronon
Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation
by Jonathan Lear
The first book, Maps of Time, turns out to be the seminal work in a whole school of historical study of which I was completely and inexplicably unaware, called “big history” or “world history.” Not your high school social studies teacher’s world history, either. My sister’s partner is a student of the afore-mentioned David Christian, movement founder. (So that’s—let’s see—three degrees of separation?) Turns out Jared Diamond is arguably the best-known popularizer of the approach, although not, of course, an historian. And it seems to me that The Clock of the Long Now project also fits right in to this very big picture.
I can’t help but feel there is amazing, breathtaking, groundbreaking, though-provoking work going on around the globe. Everywhere.
That’s on my good days—but then, most of them are good.
p.s. Yes, yes, OK, I've ordered the first volume of Endgame by Derrick Jensen. It remains to be seen if I possess the, er, necessary fortitude to actually read it, and not employ it with other very large depressing books (such as anything by Laurie Garrett) as an impromptu flower press/end table/door stop.
Maps of Time: An Introduction to Big History
by David Christian
Navigating World History: Historians Create a Global Past
by Patrick Manning
The Ends of the Earth: From Togo to Turkmenistan, from Iran to Cambodia--A Journey to the Frontiers of Anarchy
by Robert D. Kaplan
Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature
by William Cronon
Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation
by Jonathan Lear
The first book, Maps of Time, turns out to be the seminal work in a whole school of historical study of which I was completely and inexplicably unaware, called “big history” or “world history.” Not your high school social studies teacher’s world history, either. My sister’s partner is a student of the afore-mentioned David Christian, movement founder. (So that’s—let’s see—three degrees of separation?) Turns out Jared Diamond is arguably the best-known popularizer of the approach, although not, of course, an historian. And it seems to me that The Clock of the Long Now project also fits right in to this very big picture.
I can’t help but feel there is amazing, breathtaking, groundbreaking, though-provoking work going on around the globe. Everywhere.
That’s on my good days—but then, most of them are good.
p.s. Yes, yes, OK, I've ordered the first volume of Endgame by Derrick Jensen. It remains to be seen if I possess the, er, necessary fortitude to actually read it, and not employ it with other very large depressing books (such as anything by Laurie Garrett) as an impromptu flower press/end table/door stop.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Raw materials
Some days it seems as if the entire species is one seething mass of unexamined assumptions.
When we aren’t paying attention, we all tend to behave as if it’s possible for human beings to be …something other than human beings. We’d all be happy, healthy and morally upright if gender inequities were eliminated, true democracy instituted, the word of God made law, tribal lifestyles revived, corporations outlawed, breastfeeding banned in public—pick any utopian notion.
But would we? Can elephants be something other than elephants? Lizards, pigeons, luna moths something not envisioned in their respective genetic encoding? Is homo sapiens so different from other members of the Gaian family? What evidence supports this unexamined assumption?
Steven Pinker raises this question in The Blank Slate: the Modern Denial of Human Nature. He insists that there is such a thing as “human nature” and that human behavior tends to fall within certain recognizable parameters. In fact recent decades have seen quite a lot of research and speculation about what these givens might be and how immutable they are.
Our continued existence as a species now depends on our willingness to examine our own determinants, to understand and accept who we are. We must hope that amongst our basic instincts are some which can lead us away from self-destruction.
When we aren’t paying attention, we all tend to behave as if it’s possible for human beings to be …something other than human beings. We’d all be happy, healthy and morally upright if gender inequities were eliminated, true democracy instituted, the word of God made law, tribal lifestyles revived, corporations outlawed, breastfeeding banned in public—pick any utopian notion.
But would we? Can elephants be something other than elephants? Lizards, pigeons, luna moths something not envisioned in their respective genetic encoding? Is homo sapiens so different from other members of the Gaian family? What evidence supports this unexamined assumption?
Steven Pinker raises this question in The Blank Slate: the Modern Denial of Human Nature. He insists that there is such a thing as “human nature” and that human behavior tends to fall within certain recognizable parameters. In fact recent decades have seen quite a lot of research and speculation about what these givens might be and how immutable they are.
Our continued existence as a species now depends on our willingness to examine our own determinants, to understand and accept who we are. We must hope that amongst our basic instincts are some which can lead us away from self-destruction.
Labels:
human behavior,
human nature,
unexamined assumptions
Friday, September 15, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Unreasonable accommodation OR the dilemma of attenuated feedback
My little toes began to hurt. Sharp pains, thickened calluses, and then small wounds the podiatrist called “ulcerations.” He explained that these, the outermost of my toes, tend to rotate so that their sides meet the ground, rather than the padded bottoms.
Huh.
No, there wasn’t really a way to prevent it, but if I wanted to come in whenever it got too uncomfortable, there were some minor outpatient procedures he’d perform to relieve the pain.
OK.
He didn’t know why it was worse for me in the summer. Was I more likely to go barefoot?
Not really.
Then one summer day I looked down at my Birkenstocks. My wonderful old Birkies, famous for molding themselves to the wearer’s feet. As mine had. They’d lovingly embraced my quirky little toes, accommodated dysfunctionality—and amplified it. They actually encouraged my toes to roll out.
Something comfortable which, in time, produced discomfort. All of which might be an argument for spending some time outside your comfort zone.
In fact, it’s a case of long-delayed consequences. It didn’t feel bad when the weather warmed and I first put the sandals on. It felt good. There was absolutely no reason to suppose the shoes would ever cause a problem. The problem only became perceptible months later.
So much is learned from consequences. We connect cause with effect, effect with cause. It’s difficult to do, however, when the consequences of an action are delayed beyond one’s event horizon. All around us we see the disasters, now, of unintended, unanticipated consequences.
How can we improve our ability to anticipate?
Huh.
No, there wasn’t really a way to prevent it, but if I wanted to come in whenever it got too uncomfortable, there were some minor outpatient procedures he’d perform to relieve the pain.
OK.
He didn’t know why it was worse for me in the summer. Was I more likely to go barefoot?
Not really.
Then one summer day I looked down at my Birkenstocks. My wonderful old Birkies, famous for molding themselves to the wearer’s feet. As mine had. They’d lovingly embraced my quirky little toes, accommodated dysfunctionality—and amplified it. They actually encouraged my toes to roll out.
Something comfortable which, in time, produced discomfort. All of which might be an argument for spending some time outside your comfort zone.
In fact, it’s a case of long-delayed consequences. It didn’t feel bad when the weather warmed and I first put the sandals on. It felt good. There was absolutely no reason to suppose the shoes would ever cause a problem. The problem only became perceptible months later.
So much is learned from consequences. We connect cause with effect, effect with cause. It’s difficult to do, however, when the consequences of an action are delayed beyond one’s event horizon. All around us we see the disasters, now, of unintended, unanticipated consequences.
How can we improve our ability to anticipate?
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