Alternative Editorial: What Are We Afraid Of?
What is a life-changing moment, or event? It could be a sudden insight: maybe that time when you caught your parents lying for the first time and you realised that no-one - no-one! - is completely trustworthy. That kind of realisation can change the way you move through the world; just a little less - or more - confident than before, reliant on your own capacity for bouncing back. Depending on how big the lie was, and how it impacted you, it could cause you to distribute your relationships differently, make your friendship circles stronger. You invest your time and attention differently.
Alternatively, it could be an event that was too far out of your control to generate a thoughtful response for quite some time. 9/11 was such an experience for untold numbers of people. Due to the slow unfolding of events, anyone with access to a TV could watch in real time the spectacle of two passenger planes, holding hundreds of innocent travellers, flying into the iconic World Trade Centre in New York, where thousands of people were working. On the same day another plane crashed into the Pentagon, DC and a fourth, heading for Capitol Hill was heroically diverted by passengers and crashed to the ground.
It's an event that has had innumerable consequences, starting with a catastrophic shift in international relations that led America to war in Afghanistan and Iraq. Fear of terrorism brought in significant changes of behaviour throughout the world - not only in security measures getting on and off planes, but in how people looked at each other in public spaces. Muslim men, in particular, suffered a loss of freedom of movement, unable to gather even in small groups without being regarded a threat.
But the changes were not limited to changes in discourse and behaviour, but in investment - meaning the way people related to America and its future. It's no exaggeration to say that 9/11 signalled the end of 'The American Dream' both for its customers - all those who desired a relationship with the US - and its own citizens. Despite the subsequent election of a black President for the first time in US history, America's soft power has been in steady decline ever since. That may yet be seen as a good thing for the wider world; the shift into multi-polar agency may achieve more than the dominance of a single super-power.
How Covid opened triggered system change
Another game changer will have been the global pandemic from the Covid virus - although we are still wrapped up in the ramifications of that, and history will tell a fuller story in the future. Suffice to say, Covid may prove to be the first time the global population experienced a shared phenomenon in real time. New technologies - from virtual Zoom rooms to neighbourhood mutual aid groups springing up everywhere and sharing tools - helped people across borders to co-create a story of commonality - masks, vaccines, lock-down - but also share their existential shock.
At the same time people could globally compare government responses and theories of agency, while commonly facing something no-one really understood. In some ways, this liberated many to develop theories of their own about the origins of the bug and the power issues at stake - both mythological and academic. Some took on the responsibility, personally and locally, to generate better wellbeing and protection for themselves and others. Some jumped into conspiracy theories that invited them to grapple with socio-economic-political power structures for the first time - like waking up to a living nightmare. Others started to build connections between people everywhere - locally but also globally - to develop resilience for the future.
Some of the evolutions on the ground are already evident, with major developments in working patterns, living choices and levels of self-organisation for the future. In many ways our power structures have also changed - something we narrated throughout the period we called The Shift. On the ground, there was more distrust of authority, and a greater culture of autonomy - especially within localities. Globally, there was a pivoting away from US and European leadership: in Southeast Asia, for example, a broad agreement settled that Western societies did not get the global pandemic response right.
A change of perspective shifts the future
Both these kinds of shifts in our daily reality - the extremely personal and the collective-global - reveal the interconnectivity between our perspectives, our way of being and behaving and the way the future looks to us. When one changes, the others change - try it for yourself, recalling a moment of development in your own life when maybe, a penny dropping in your thinking, changed everything.
Although we've only referred to shocking shifts and a collapse of expectations that cause a shift in our perception of reality, this can happen less convulsively, by means of positive breakthroughs. Some of us can remember a day when our teacher saw our potential for the first time and how, instantly, a good life opened up in front of us. Or that moment of falling in love, when suddenly the single self is put into freefall, and a life as a union with another presents itself as new ground to walk on. More than a different view on life, this is new territory – fresh land to invest in and build on.
But what if we can't see that future we're yearning for, no matter how hard we try? We're quite sure, maybe, of what we don't want - but we otherwise feel trapped in a daily life of little meaning or purpose and only experience a growing hopelessness? In some ways, the interconnectivity between perspective, behaviour and possible futures shows up even more strongly in this scenario. Within a discourse of powerlessness, and a daily life lacking freedom, the future is bleak. But shift any one of those factors and you begin to shift the others.
Perhaps the most common 'state of being' we come across in the world of 'change makers' is one of 'trying to make a difference'. It's a brave and generous world of experimentation, working with others at all levels of the socio-economic-political-ecosystem to see what can develop, then sharing findings. There are multiple theories of change rubbing up alongside each other, overlapping and sometimes competing. Observing this work over five years is what enables us to say, categorically, that a new system is possible.
Stuck in the comfort zone
Even so, there are many within this arena who cannot look at the future with clarity or confidence: they describe themselves as stuck between worlds or working against the odds. On interrogation, we find they are broadly occupying the discourse of the mainstream system. They echo what can't be done: our relative powerlessness, the dominance of the establishment, the evidence of failure throughout history.
This discourse doesn't allow that we've been in a revolution of agency since the 90s with the birth of the internet. Or acknowledge the great change occurring in the public space because of women entering it with all the tools of the private space. Many would look at woke activism - post-colonising, stretching beyond gender binaries, multi-cultural - as difficult to manage, rather than as evidence of people waking up on a massive scale.
This is not a judgement, it's an observation they themselves would not object to: it's their reality. If anything, those that see these disruptions differently - more positively - are likely to be judged as not realistic. Interestingly, when it comes to funding the intiatives arising from the 'unsure and trying' groups - they are more successful, because they still have clear links to the mainstream economy where the resources still mainly lie.
Another feature of this 'liminal' perspective is a common reluctance to change daily behaviour in line with that future - the one that is imaginable but hard to believe can be reached. Small examples might be continuing to fly unnecessarily, eat as much meat as ever before, drink water out of plastic bottles and so on.
On another level it would be constantly taking an active part in social media, not acknowledging that this conversation is polarised by the interests of the growth economy. Or lining ourselves up with an international stance shaped by our military industrial complex. Or maybe taking part in manels, never noticing ongoing colonising behaviour in events that give no voice to people of colour.
Liminal space is not neutral space
Giving any one of these behaviours up deliberately would have the effect of shifting our relationship to what is real-and-possible, internally. This is what David Bollier and the late Silke Helfrich called the onto-shift [see Fair, Free and Alive]: a new way of being - and feeling - in the world. On the other hand, not doing an onto-shift can leave us feeling vulnerable to the future still run by the same people taking us over a cliff.
At a recent gathering of global systems weavers (under Chatham House rules) we asked the question: what are we afraid of and what is the role of courage? There were many answers, but one that kept occurring was the fear of leaving our comfort zone - the familiar conversation that keeps us treading water rather than causing a wave of change, knowing we could fly or drown. Sometimes this challenge looked like taking a risk with a new identity, sometimes with moving home or changing lifestyle.
Amidst all this was the recurring theme of the community - the importance of our connections and the belonging it generates. However, the stronger the ties, the greater the fear of saying or doing anything that might cause disconnect. Not just the danger of leaving the 'in-group' but of having to build a new self, capable of standing alone--the prospect is daunting. On examination, staying with the group at this point, can mean a significant dimming of what makes us uniquely ourselves - a vital element of diversity - in favour of agreement, which brings security.
No one likes that feeling that something is not quite right with the settled reality of a shared space...especially if you are the only one saying it. There is a feeling of betrayal, and the (self) accusation that you might be indulging your ego - drawing attention to yourself, being thoughtlessly critical. At the same time, a healthy community might be seen as one that can hold multiple perspectives without alienating anyone. Indeed, the first to speak often takes others with them closely after: like that first grain of popcorn popping, soon it’s a cacophony.
Agreement is not always the courageous path
Courage is owning up to our own discomfort and assessing what is wrong within our community - be it family, colleagues, neighbourhood or beyond. We must try to articulate that what we’ve been doing cannot align with the future we want. Then, whether others follow us or not, we should make the moves that bring us back in alignment with that insight and the future we can commit to. At first sight, this may seem a lonely prospect: but we may be surprised at how our courage triggers others to follow suit. The reward is that our own courage gives rise to a future we can now confidently commit to and invest in.
While none of this adds up to a 9/11 shock-shift, or a COVID period of surprising transition, it can have the same impact upon your life. As our colleagues at Perspectiva might describe it, taking a stand is a moment of getting real, being real, and making real.