Last month, Jack Gray gave a presentation on happiness.
The upshot is that happiness increases with income, but more or less plateaus beyond an annual income of about $20,000. That is, once you've got your basic needs met (food, shelter etc) it makes very little difference to your happiness whether you make $30,000 or $3 million. It's a robust and reliable finding.
It's an interesting public policy thought-starter - what's the point in tax breaks at the top end when the best we could do for the nation is ensure everyone had their basic needs met?
Another interesting nugget was a finding that happiness levels are largely stable throughout one's life. Regardless of whether you win the lottery, become a quadriplegic, or keep ambling along at a steady state, you can expect that you'll revert to your own approximate happiness level. The two exceptions to this are unemployment and mental illness. Again - very interesting for public policy decisions. We're right to be focussed on keeping unemployment down. We're wrong to be lax in how we measure it (if it's a security thing, then a casualised labour force is not a good thing). And we're absolutely wrong to be limiting mental health services at the expense of other things.
In fact key factors in happiness were meaning in life (spiritual, vocational or otherwise) ; doing something (being busy: absorbed) - interesting for increasingly passive leisure time; human / social contacts (at a time when work-life balance is famously impossible to achieve) and keeping up with the Joneses.
This last was a sorry finding. But the speaker made the useful point that keeping up with the Joneses doesn't have to mean a wider plasma screen TV. He called it "non-rival goods" but I didn't like the idea that it had to be goods at all. In a different time, place, context, status was how many grandkids you had, how often you did the flowers for the church, or how good your marrows were. There are many aspects of this status at play in knowledge-based contexts (how up to date you are on Australian Idol; how credible your thoughts on the Bennelong electorate; how convincing your parenting philosophy) but even here many of these follow a path laid down for us by commercial interests (Idol advertisers, opinion leaders, parenting publications).
I can see the utility in replacing non-rival for rival goods. If human nature is competitive, much better for sustainability to compete towards a low-consumption rather than a high-consumption goal. But I also would like to interrogate this feeling I have that the competition itself is somehow less than constructive. That feeling proud we didn't heat the house this winter; or smug that our children eat their crusts is a less than productive use of psychic energy. Maybe one of the reasons is that pride keeps me from communicating it fully (don't wanna brag), and limits my ability to set a different agenda (as a "Jones" that others think of keeping up with). When in reality communicating this stuff could be sharing rather than bragging.
I spoke to an old friend today; he mentioned another friend had been down to visit him, and wanted to go op-shopping because he was compacting, thanks to me. I did a bit of a double take. I know this guy, but mostly at a distance; we've met no more than a handful of times, and yet he has been quietly compacting, thanks to my conversations with his partner many months ago.
At the end of a long, hard, head-aching, mental mettle-breaking week, score one to me.
Friday, 14 September 2007
Thursday, 13 September 2007
germination
THe combination of my urban professional self (financial complexities, lots of paperwork) and my private commitment to reduced domestic footprint (labour intensive, low on escapism like entertainment, TV and retail therapy) make for perhaps the worst of both worlds. I'm far from unique in this, and suspect many working parents (in particular) find themselves in similar binds - working a 10 -12 hour day at the office + commute + coming home and wanting to feed their kids organic homemade food and not plonk them in front of the TV while preparing it.
It's self-imposed and I know many many people do it far tougher, and with less choice. But cracks are showing. I got a bollocking from a friend with triplets the other day for not being \a good friend lately (not calling, inviting etc) and it was absolutely deserved, but I can't fix it. THe reality of my three days at home (three including Saturday and Sunday that is) is all the washing, the shopping, the gardening, the cleaning, the client meetings (J's) the cooking proper meals so we can freeze some for later, the spontaneous crises (my family) the washing up by hand, the household admin (enrol in closer kindys, take E to the doctor, register car) and the pre-planned social commitments, (everyone's, including, increasingly, the kids').
Every time I think it's the last straw and I'm going to lie down and cry, another thing somewhere goes wrong. I thought it couldn't get worse when the power went out and then, R came out in mouth ulcers and spots. We rode bikes up to the pharmacy to get him checked out, and somehow I lost my (work-owned) mobile phone.
So my experiences of hanging at home (especially on my own with the kids) aren't all that relaxing, and I wasn't looking forward to this ten day period when the extended family is away and I took leave to do just that. Tuesday was a novelty. Wednesday was exhausting (as usual ) but today we had a breakthrough that has reinvigorated my sense of my role as a parent.
During dinner after E joked that the food was "disgusterous" (they're having a BFG phase) I told him we don't talk like that about food, and it prompted the hackneyed (but engaging) conversation about children starving in Africa. For the first time, E made the connection that a child we sponsor lived in Africa, and understood that there isn't enough food to go around. He spontaneously decided that he had lots of t-shirts that were too big for him, just right for H and we should send them there. Later, reading "Flat Stanley in Space" aloud to them the same theme came up, with the tiny Tyrrans having run out of food because of an industrial accident, and the Lambchop family discussing the fact that there was enough food for millions of people on earth. R chimed in saying that wasn't true, because H (our sponsored child) lived somewhere there wasn't enough food. They're intelligent kids, but it really awed me to be able to discuss some of these very adult concerns (and things that preoccupy me) with them. And they actually got it, and integrated it, and made sense of what it meant for how they should behave.
I have always known (perhaps because my fmaily was from India) that the root environmental problem is overpopulation. Accidentally conceived twins meant I never fully engaged with the idea that having children is a moral issue until the question (conveniently) became academic (and I became unqualified to take a position). But my post-hoc justification is a hope that raising my children right will mean they contribute to solutions rather than problems. Reducing their footprint as well as my own is a critical start, but not enough. While I think of my kids mostly as a random gift (and know the limitations of parental influence) I hope to lay foundations for the people we'll need tomorrow. So what does this mean in practice? What do I do with my overburdened three-year-olds?
We have rules:
- We don't waste food (a colleague recently pointed out it was just as wasted in your tummy - I can't bring myself to see it that way) and we eat all the skins and crusts and everything and the rest goes to the worms.
- We don't waste stuff - we take care of things so that they'll last longer and / or be able to be passed on to another family.
- We don't buy things just because we want them. To brag a little here, our kids are so good at this one, that we took can take them on a surprise shopping trip to get bikes at Toys R Us and they never, ever even ask for anything during the entire 45 minute visit to the store. At checkout, R's lip trembled a bit as he handed over his green dragon money box to the cashier, but he did it.
Note to parents - don't buy Toys R Us bikes. In our case they weigh more than the kids do. Which makes it hard to ride. Go to a bike shop instead. (Ironic, I know, to give purchase advice in the context of a not-buying rule, but we avoided a car trip because we had bikes today, which is the point)
We have habits of thinking and talking:
- We remind ourselves how lucky we are and recognise that brings a bigger responsibility to others (like giving away extra toys and clothes.)
- We try to yield to the underdog. Smaller kids, sicker brother, someone who hasn't got a bike at home and wants to play on yours at the park.
- We recognise the self-interest in doing "good things" as I think it prompts bigger-picture thinking (though it can be a bit Machiavellian). If you always share your toys, other people will be more likely to share with you. If you get dressed as soon as I ask you to, we might find we have enough time for an extra story at the end of the day.
And we have priorities in terms of what matters to their development:
- Lots of space, room for physical play and exploring.
- Taking responsibility early (though I do feel bad about the moneybox-for-bike-thing, above)
- Exposure to people with similar values (because I know the power of the peer group even at age 3)
All of this of course is in the context of cuddles and tickles and fairy dancing and silly singing and play dough pounding and all kinds of babyhood things. Sometimes though, I really do think I'm way too hard on them. I can fully envisage the adult therapy they'll undergo for utter deprivation by the standards of our time, place and means. But I hope that I'm
giving them a sounder, more authentic, more useful foundation than more Fisher Price and Wiggles ever could.
And let's put this in context. Between them, they have forty-four t-shirts (albeit some, as E pointed out, that are a little too big).
It's self-imposed and I know many many people do it far tougher, and with less choice. But cracks are showing. I got a bollocking from a friend with triplets the other day for not being \a good friend lately (not calling, inviting etc) and it was absolutely deserved, but I can't fix it. THe reality of my three days at home (three including Saturday and Sunday that is) is all the washing, the shopping, the gardening, the cleaning, the client meetings (J's) the cooking proper meals so we can freeze some for later, the spontaneous crises (my family) the washing up by hand, the household admin (enrol in closer kindys, take E to the doctor, register car) and the pre-planned social commitments, (everyone's, including, increasingly, the kids').
Every time I think it's the last straw and I'm going to lie down and cry, another thing somewhere goes wrong. I thought it couldn't get worse when the power went out and then, R came out in mouth ulcers and spots. We rode bikes up to the pharmacy to get him checked out, and somehow I lost my (work-owned) mobile phone.
So my experiences of hanging at home (especially on my own with the kids) aren't all that relaxing, and I wasn't looking forward to this ten day period when the extended family is away and I took leave to do just that. Tuesday was a novelty. Wednesday was exhausting (as usual ) but today we had a breakthrough that has reinvigorated my sense of my role as a parent.
During dinner after E joked that the food was "disgusterous" (they're having a BFG phase) I told him we don't talk like that about food, and it prompted the hackneyed (but engaging) conversation about children starving in Africa. For the first time, E made the connection that a child we sponsor lived in Africa, and understood that there isn't enough food to go around. He spontaneously decided that he had lots of t-shirts that were too big for him, just right for H and we should send them there. Later, reading "Flat Stanley in Space" aloud to them the same theme came up, with the tiny Tyrrans having run out of food because of an industrial accident, and the Lambchop family discussing the fact that there was enough food for millions of people on earth. R chimed in saying that wasn't true, because H (our sponsored child) lived somewhere there wasn't enough food. They're intelligent kids, but it really awed me to be able to discuss some of these very adult concerns (and things that preoccupy me) with them. And they actually got it, and integrated it, and made sense of what it meant for how they should behave.
I have always known (perhaps because my fmaily was from India) that the root environmental problem is overpopulation. Accidentally conceived twins meant I never fully engaged with the idea that having children is a moral issue until the question (conveniently) became academic (and I became unqualified to take a position). But my post-hoc justification is a hope that raising my children right will mean they contribute to solutions rather than problems. Reducing their footprint as well as my own is a critical start, but not enough. While I think of my kids mostly as a random gift (and know the limitations of parental influence) I hope to lay foundations for the people we'll need tomorrow. So what does this mean in practice? What do I do with my overburdened three-year-olds?
We have rules:
- We don't waste food (a colleague recently pointed out it was just as wasted in your tummy - I can't bring myself to see it that way) and we eat all the skins and crusts and everything and the rest goes to the worms.
- We don't waste stuff - we take care of things so that they'll last longer and / or be able to be passed on to another family.
- We don't buy things just because we want them. To brag a little here, our kids are so good at this one, that we took can take them on a surprise shopping trip to get bikes at Toys R Us and they never, ever even ask for anything during the entire 45 minute visit to the store. At checkout, R's lip trembled a bit as he handed over his green dragon money box to the cashier, but he did it.
Note to parents - don't buy Toys R Us bikes. In our case they weigh more than the kids do. Which makes it hard to ride. Go to a bike shop instead. (Ironic, I know, to give purchase advice in the context of a not-buying rule, but we avoided a car trip because we had bikes today, which is the point)
We have habits of thinking and talking:
- We remind ourselves how lucky we are and recognise that brings a bigger responsibility to others (like giving away extra toys and clothes.)
- We try to yield to the underdog. Smaller kids, sicker brother, someone who hasn't got a bike at home and wants to play on yours at the park.
- We recognise the self-interest in doing "good things" as I think it prompts bigger-picture thinking (though it can be a bit Machiavellian). If you always share your toys, other people will be more likely to share with you. If you get dressed as soon as I ask you to, we might find we have enough time for an extra story at the end of the day.
And we have priorities in terms of what matters to their development:
- Lots of space, room for physical play and exploring.
- Taking responsibility early (though I do feel bad about the moneybox-for-bike-thing, above)
- Exposure to people with similar values (because I know the power of the peer group even at age 3)
All of this of course is in the context of cuddles and tickles and fairy dancing and silly singing and play dough pounding and all kinds of babyhood things. Sometimes though, I really do think I'm way too hard on them. I can fully envisage the adult therapy they'll undergo for utter deprivation by the standards of our time, place and means. But I hope that I'm
giving them a sounder, more authentic, more useful foundation than more Fisher Price and Wiggles ever could.
And let's put this in context. Between them, they have forty-four t-shirts (albeit some, as E pointed out, that are a little too big).
Wednesday, 29 August 2007
Companies need consumption
I gave a presentation today about companies increasingly being recognised for their sustainability initiatives. One of the (MBA) students in the audience - which included execs from companies - asked how we get around the fundamental problem that companies need to you to consume and consumption underlies all our problems.
Growth capitalism in my view, is indeed a problematic paradigm. But let's go with a thought experiment - what does it mean not to have growth? In the property or equity markets, it means your house or your superannuation is worth the same today as it is next year or the year after - or (and we're not talking about collapses here) maybe less, cos the paint starts peeling and the kitchen is a year older and more battered. As investments, these things would need to rely on the income they generate (rent or dividends) making them far less subject to speculation.
It also means that savings (eg super savings) wouldn't grow over time, except through the compounding
of interest and other income. You'd retire with much less, and wouldn't have as much to spend through your walking on a beach or red sports car driving twillight years. But then, you might not need as much, because I don't think inflation would eat up part of what you had each year.
We couldn't expect - as a whole - expect to have a bettter standard of living in the future than we do today, although individuals or families or groups may do better or worse relative to others over time.
Inflation is the only reason I can think of that economic gfrowth serves any useful purpose in an already - affluent society and inflation is caused by demand exceeding supply. Demand only exceeds supply because a) we insist on overpopulation in order to prop up growth (witness the "need" for immigration and fertility rhetoric of the current Federal government and b) because it is the target of the whole marketing, advertising and sales industries.
In fact (and I'm not an economist) I'm not really sure why the goal for an affluent country is economic growth at all.
Leaving growth aside, let's return to the question of companies and what they need. They don't need us to buy goods, they just need us to give them our money. My first answer to this is that a large proportion of companies in our economy are service companies. They don't sell us widgets, but banking services, telephone services or insurance.
My second point was that even among the companies where you hand over some money and walk away with a physical good, it is rarely (for the company) the good that is the point. They derive their value from being able to meet a need - and if they were smart about it, they could use fewer resources to meet the same need. To use an old chestnut, I've never desired to own a fridge or a hot water tank - I just want cold milk and hot showers. I don't want a car - I just want something on call that gets me, the kids and the shopping from A to B (carshare anyone?). And I don't want cardboard boxes (let alone plastic packaging) - I just want robust items that won't break easily.
I'm far from the first person to note this, but a radical rethinking of what a company delivers can really shape a successful future. Old ways of thinking, inherited from when resources were plentiful, cash was hard to come by and transaction costs were high (info was scarce, comparisons difficult, etc) are no longer appropriate. I don't want a new damn mobile phone. I want someone else to take my clients' calls after hours. I don't want to own lightbulbs, stereos, whitegoods, computers or anything else really. I'm certainly not paying for the resource consumed when I have to buy any of this stuff - I'm paying for a sound reputation for reliability, a decent warranty and maybe some service guarantees (like a helpline). If a company can figure out how to meet my need while using less of the resources to do it - I'm all for it.
I don't have many readers here, in fact I think I pretty much know you all by (user) name but I know you guys are pretty smart with this stuff. What don't you want that you currently have no option but to buy
Growth capitalism in my view, is indeed a problematic paradigm. But let's go with a thought experiment - what does it mean not to have growth? In the property or equity markets, it means your house or your superannuation is worth the same today as it is next year or the year after - or (and we're not talking about collapses here) maybe less, cos the paint starts peeling and the kitchen is a year older and more battered. As investments, these things would need to rely on the income they generate (rent or dividends) making them far less subject to speculation.
It also means that savings (eg super savings) wouldn't grow over time, except through the compounding
of interest and other income. You'd retire with much less, and wouldn't have as much to spend through your walking on a beach or red sports car driving twillight years. But then, you might not need as much, because I don't think inflation would eat up part of what you had each year.
We couldn't expect - as a whole - expect to have a bettter standard of living in the future than we do today, although individuals or families or groups may do better or worse relative to others over time.
Inflation is the only reason I can think of that economic gfrowth serves any useful purpose in an already - affluent society and inflation is caused by demand exceeding supply. Demand only exceeds supply because a) we insist on overpopulation in order to prop up growth (witness the "need" for immigration and fertility rhetoric of the current Federal government and b) because it is the target of the whole marketing, advertising and sales industries.
In fact (and I'm not an economist) I'm not really sure why the goal for an affluent country is economic growth at all.
Leaving growth aside, let's return to the question of companies and what they need. They don't need us to buy goods, they just need us to give them our money. My first answer to this is that a large proportion of companies in our economy are service companies. They don't sell us widgets, but banking services, telephone services or insurance.
My second point was that even among the companies where you hand over some money and walk away with a physical good, it is rarely (for the company) the good that is the point. They derive their value from being able to meet a need - and if they were smart about it, they could use fewer resources to meet the same need. To use an old chestnut, I've never desired to own a fridge or a hot water tank - I just want cold milk and hot showers. I don't want a car - I just want something on call that gets me, the kids and the shopping from A to B (carshare anyone?). And I don't want cardboard boxes (let alone plastic packaging) - I just want robust items that won't break easily.
I'm far from the first person to note this, but a radical rethinking of what a company delivers can really shape a successful future. Old ways of thinking, inherited from when resources were plentiful, cash was hard to come by and transaction costs were high (info was scarce, comparisons difficult, etc) are no longer appropriate. I don't want a new damn mobile phone. I want someone else to take my clients' calls after hours. I don't want to own lightbulbs, stereos, whitegoods, computers or anything else really. I'm certainly not paying for the resource consumed when I have to buy any of this stuff - I'm paying for a sound reputation for reliability, a decent warranty and maybe some service guarantees (like a helpline). If a company can figure out how to meet my need while using less of the resources to do it - I'm all for it.
I don't have many readers here, in fact I think I pretty much know you all by (user) name but I know you guys are pretty smart with this stuff. What don't you want that you currently have no option but to buy
reader invitation required
Hmmm. More than a month since my last post. What's been going on?
I've been working hard at work and harder at home with all the usual attempts to replace energy (fossil fuelled) with labour (mine). Whinge moan.
I've bought a bike - actually four bikes though none of them second hand. I really need to lose a car now to make up for that.
I've got a whole lot of seeds, and some big pots and soil, and will spend Friday afternoon planting with the kids. We're having roaring success with the rocket and the sprouts but possum-trouble with the silverbeet (at least I think it's a possum. Any tips out there on possums? would a scarecrow work?).
We're through the winter and have not heated the house (hooray for summer!) I've knitted a scarf and am learning to crochet (surprisingly therapeutic). I've met and befriended further neighbours and got my in-laws to worm farm. I've preserved some lemons and made bread and yoghurt. It's certainly a capacity building exercise at the moment. We had someone come and replace all our bulbs with compact fluoros.
Perhaps the success I feel proudest of is increasingly integrating my values into my social world. I feel more an integrated whole. For a long time, there was an emperors new clothes sort of feeling about my work and my values - where there was no common ground. Then I got a job in the field and there was an emperors new clothes feeling about my work and values on one hand; and my social world on the other. I'm managing to bring the two together.
But I have not been blogging the experience (though that was never the point) and while I continue to enjoy my favourite bloggers, I'm not sure I'm really cut out for it.
I think it shows a distinct lack of capability or commitment or something for instance to go more than a month without a post.
So here's the thing. I think maybe there's enough of a groundswell that I could join in a shared blog community. Will anyone have me as a guest? or join me in a new collaborative effort?
I've been working hard at work and harder at home with all the usual attempts to replace energy (fossil fuelled) with labour (mine). Whinge moan.
I've bought a bike - actually four bikes though none of them second hand. I really need to lose a car now to make up for that.
I've got a whole lot of seeds, and some big pots and soil, and will spend Friday afternoon planting with the kids. We're having roaring success with the rocket and the sprouts but possum-trouble with the silverbeet (at least I think it's a possum. Any tips out there on possums? would a scarecrow work?).
We're through the winter and have not heated the house (hooray for summer!) I've knitted a scarf and am learning to crochet (surprisingly therapeutic). I've met and befriended further neighbours and got my in-laws to worm farm. I've preserved some lemons and made bread and yoghurt. It's certainly a capacity building exercise at the moment. We had someone come and replace all our bulbs with compact fluoros.
Perhaps the success I feel proudest of is increasingly integrating my values into my social world. I feel more an integrated whole. For a long time, there was an emperors new clothes sort of feeling about my work and my values - where there was no common ground. Then I got a job in the field and there was an emperors new clothes feeling about my work and values on one hand; and my social world on the other. I'm managing to bring the two together.
But I have not been blogging the experience (though that was never the point) and while I continue to enjoy my favourite bloggers, I'm not sure I'm really cut out for it.
I think it shows a distinct lack of capability or commitment or something for instance to go more than a month without a post.
So here's the thing. I think maybe there's enough of a groundswell that I could join in a shared blog community. Will anyone have me as a guest? or join me in a new collaborative effort?
Tuesday, 24 July 2007
Clear-eyed stock-take
The lovely Bryan wondered whether my silverbeet was dying. It isn't. And though my last post (gee, it's getting a long time between posts) was despairing, it wasn't to do with failing on my small domestic front.
The pep talk to self:
We've still not bought a heater, and I've not turned on the one we've got - including last week when temperatures dropped to an icy 3 degrees Celsius in Sydney.
I've still not had a backlash on compacting, and in fact I think I may have a few new subscribers to the experiment after some friendly campaigning at a kid's party recently.
I've targeted my two converts and have made serious inroads into their consumption and footprint patterns, though they're not yet ready to commit to anything.
I knitted a scarf, planted seeds, made stock, (all largely symbolic rather than meaningful).
But really it's the bigger picture that occupies my imaginings. And reading Capitalism 3.0 gave me some very good ideas abouts what wrong with the world and how we might go about fixing it (a recommended read! ) http://onthecommons.org/node/680
The pep talk to self:
We've still not bought a heater, and I've not turned on the one we've got - including last week when temperatures dropped to an icy 3 degrees Celsius in Sydney.
I've still not had a backlash on compacting, and in fact I think I may have a few new subscribers to the experiment after some friendly campaigning at a kid's party recently.
I've targeted my two converts and have made serious inroads into their consumption and footprint patterns, though they're not yet ready to commit to anything.
I knitted a scarf, planted seeds, made stock, (all largely symbolic rather than meaningful).
But really it's the bigger picture that occupies my imaginings. And reading Capitalism 3.0 gave me some very good ideas abouts what wrong with the world and how we might go about fixing it (a recommended read! ) http://onthecommons.org/node/680
Tuesday, 17 July 2007
Be the change / be the clock
My partner, trying to teach the tots about clockwise and anticlockwise, gets annoyed with me when, trying to join in, I get confused about whether I'm supposed to "be the clock" or "mirror the clock".
Being the change I want to see in the world (and I'm not, by a long way) has had me wrapped up for a long time, but I'm getting confused as to whether that's really where I should be.
I want to know my kids, and the whole of humanity, have a future and my motives range from the personal and selfish to the intellectual and abstract.
On the intellectual front, I want to know that our great achievements were not for nothing. That our music and art and philosophical breakthroughs and great novels will be there and will be enjoyed by someone like me in the very distant future. My babies are my proxy for all that, I think of them sometimes as the first chain in a link to a distant time.
On the personal front though, I am starting to think of them and even myself as victims of our time. The ones who inherited a world that was too late to save. And this makes me really scared.
And a victim mentality isn't good.
It doesn't make me want to be the change or save the world. It makes me want to protect myself and my kids from it with all the might of a last ditch overweight footprint. Buy and hoard stuff we might need in difficult years. Avoid sharing the message so I don't create competing demand for stuff I might need to keep us on top of things. Quit my save the world job and go back to work in my higher-paying former career so that I can cushion us all against the inevitable future financial downturn.
It's a panicked, knee-jerk, out-of-control sort of feeling. And I wonder how much of the consumption culture we see is other people - not disengaged from the bigger picture of a devastated biosphere and a decimated social fabric, but rather attempting to fiddle while they know Rome burns. If the glaciers are going anyway, let there at least be some singing and shopping.
I'm trying to keep a lid on this feeling, but it's really an effort of will at the moment - which may signal impending madness - which is a very real possibility given my genes. But I think too exploring the idea offers a useful insight into the link between disempowerment and selfishness / self-preservation and credit being the opiate of the masses and a window into how to galvanise wider change.
Or something.
Being the change I want to see in the world (and I'm not, by a long way) has had me wrapped up for a long time, but I'm getting confused as to whether that's really where I should be.
I want to know my kids, and the whole of humanity, have a future and my motives range from the personal and selfish to the intellectual and abstract.
On the intellectual front, I want to know that our great achievements were not for nothing. That our music and art and philosophical breakthroughs and great novels will be there and will be enjoyed by someone like me in the very distant future. My babies are my proxy for all that, I think of them sometimes as the first chain in a link to a distant time.
On the personal front though, I am starting to think of them and even myself as victims of our time. The ones who inherited a world that was too late to save. And this makes me really scared.
And a victim mentality isn't good.
It doesn't make me want to be the change or save the world. It makes me want to protect myself and my kids from it with all the might of a last ditch overweight footprint. Buy and hoard stuff we might need in difficult years. Avoid sharing the message so I don't create competing demand for stuff I might need to keep us on top of things. Quit my save the world job and go back to work in my higher-paying former career so that I can cushion us all against the inevitable future financial downturn.
It's a panicked, knee-jerk, out-of-control sort of feeling. And I wonder how much of the consumption culture we see is other people - not disengaged from the bigger picture of a devastated biosphere and a decimated social fabric, but rather attempting to fiddle while they know Rome burns. If the glaciers are going anyway, let there at least be some singing and shopping.
I'm trying to keep a lid on this feeling, but it's really an effort of will at the moment - which may signal impending madness - which is a very real possibility given my genes. But I think too exploring the idea offers a useful insight into the link between disempowerment and selfishness / self-preservation and credit being the opiate of the masses and a window into how to galvanise wider change.
Or something.
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