My Grandfather passed away last week – 2 weeks shy of his 90th birthday. Since then, the stories that have been shared about him lead me to believe that he would have been an incredibly popular and resourceful person in the Next Economy – just as he was in the current one.
Grandad was, as they say in Northern England where he grew up, a 'dab hand' at pretty much anything he did. He built a caravan by the sea by hand from scratch, replumbed his son's crumbling house, and did everything in a D.I.Y. fashion from auto maintenance to shoe repair.
His skill, however, wasn't all with his hands, but also with people. He started the first Post Office Social club in his area, and led the way to raise enough money for them to build a location where the men and women of BT in Plymouth and their families could gather and socialize, and … you guessed it … build community.
Exactly the type of skills that will be in high demand in the Next Economy.
Currently, when something is broken, we generally throw it out, unless it is something vital, in which case we take it somewhere to get it repaired. There is, however, an undercurrent of D.I.Y. That flows just below this 'throw-away' society.
Consider the recent death of my iPod. I got the 'sad iPod face.', meaning it was almost certainly done for. My sister, however, insisted it was probably just the battery. My Mom went on eBay (she's the ebay queen) and bought an OEM battery, and gave it to my sister to fix. Well, something went wrong, and she accidentally unhooked a vital cable while putting it back together. It ended up coming back to me with a new battery – but a disconnected headphone jack.
I was looking seriously at shelling out $200 or so for a new iPod touch (which frankly, I really want), but then decided to have one last kick at the cat. So I found a youTube video that described really well how to get the iPod open, and with much fiddling, managed to get the cable plugged back in. Voila – fixed iPod. Total cost? About $18 for the battery.
Year ago, in the book Die Broke, Stephen Pollan described taking his old 'breadbox' Macintosh to an Apple store in Manhattan to get fixed (a wire was loose). The clerk looked at him in shock and said “This thing is really obsolete. It's going to cost $100 or so to fix it. You should really just get a new one.”
“Wow!” exclaimed the author, with feigned surprise. “I can get a new Apple for $100?”
“Well, no...” replied the clerk, only just starting to get it.
He fixed the old one.
As the flow of artificially cheap goods from overseas starts to slow in the next 10 to 15 years as the price of bunker fuel starts to climb, it is going to start to make so much more sense to fix what's broken, and buy second hand. To say nothing of the environmental and social degradation that comes from replacing your electronics constantly.
So next time you 'fall out of love' with your cell phone. Think carefully – is it really not doing the things you need it to do any more (enable you to call people, text message, play the odd game)? Or is it just boredom? Or better still, is it just a small, relatively easy fix you could probably do yourself with the help of a good online video?
Who knows, it might be an idea to join the legions of DIY enthusiasts, and get a jump on the Next Economy now.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Next Economy
So I started this blog out referring to Jeff Rubin's amazing book Why Your World is About to Get a Whole Lot Smaller Since then, I have referred a few times to 'the coming changes' without ever outlining what I believe those changes will be. I thought I would rectify that now.
What I am calling the 'Next Economy' is going to be shaped largely by three things: Climate Change, Peak Oil, and less concretely a public backlash against all things cheap and over-manufactured and flavorless.
Climate Change is now so widely accepted that the tables have turned; now people who doubt the effect of global warming are the ones being viewed as the tin-foil-hat wearing lunatics. The changes' most dramatic human impacts of this (for instance, as outlined in Cleo Paskal's book Global Warring) will largely involve the migration of large numbers of people away from areas where water becomes scarce, and where sea levels are rising. As a result, if you live in a desert – now would be a good time to move. And if you live somewhere like Southern Ontario, now would be a good time to invest in Real Estate.
Peak Oil is based on the increasingly accepted view that at least ½ of the oil there ever was has already been pumped out of the ground and burned. What is left, is the hard to get at/hard to refine oil like that which exists in the Tar Sands. That doesn't mean none of us will be able to get any gas in our cars in 5 years time, but it does mean that because the oil left in the ground costs so much more to extract – that the price of that gas is going to steadily climb. This will have predictable effects on our economy, and our way of life – especially considering that the average Caesar Salad travels around 2500 miles from farm to table.
Finally – this will all be shaped by a growing public backlash against the types of behaviors that have caused global warming and accelerated the arrival of peal oil. Wal Mart's 'warehouse on wheels' and it's endless shelves of cheap, disposable garbage that nobody needs. Tomatoes that feel and taste like racquetballs because they were picked under-ripe and chemically 'ripened' in a truck on the way to the store. Big box stores where nobody knows you, understands what you need, or particularly cares. Clothes whose price tag clearly indicate they must have been made in appalling working conditions – with possible child slaves.
This backlash has taken the form of an increased interest in shopping at local boutique stores, in growing vegetable gardens in the back yard, in taking public transit and in 'homesteading crafts' like knitting, sewing and preserving vegetables.
What is the next economy going to look like? Well for one it's going to be much more local than we have been used to. Almost everyone will be on the 100 mile diet, rather than just few hard core enthusiasts. Public Transit will be the preferred method of getting to and from work, and the nature of work will change. As the cost of overseas shipping skyrockets, more and more manufacturing industries are going to come back 'onshore', resulting in entire generations switching their vocations from barista or stock clerk in a big box store to craftsperson or factory worker.
Communities will get a lot more walkable as land uses intensify and diversify. Jeff Rubin says that 10,000,000 cars will come off the road. That means that if you own a home near a grocery store or transit route, your property will be worth a whole lot more than somewhere that can only be reached by car (or pick-up truck!) - unless you are far enough out to participate on the supply end of the aforementioned 100 mile diet.
People won't quibble any more about having a small shopping plaza open next to their suburban cul de sac - at least it will mean they won't have to drive anywhere for their bag of milk or their haircut. People will also have to get used to the meat packing plants and other 'less than pleasant' companies moving back to the city, after having been exiled to the country by a society that wanted less and less to do with where their food actually came from.
Will the future, though, be bleak in a world with paper butcher wrap instead of saran wrap (which is made of petroleum products) and all of us crammed into a limited number of biodiesel buses?
I don't think so, not for a minute. People are incredibly resourceful, and will find all sorts of creative ways of making money with their talents, of sharing their resources, of coming together as communities to help each other out, and of celebrating their collective victories.
The other day I got on an elevator with a well dressed man who was complaining that he had invested thousand of dollars in a snow blower, only to have no snow. “I was hoping to get outside and meet my neighbors for the second time this year as I offer to snow blow their driveways.” he remarked.
In the Next Economy, he will know his neighbors really well – because he will probably be trading that snow blowing service for homemade jam, or hand knitted mitts and a toque.
Greg Brown on his amazing record The Live One describes life in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan as one where “if you see someone stuck at the side of the road, you damn well better stop. People up there need each other,” he explains. “That's how you build community. All of this talk about intentional community is a bunch of baloney, people have to need each other.”
And that, will be the Next Economy in a nutshell.
What I am calling the 'Next Economy' is going to be shaped largely by three things: Climate Change, Peak Oil, and less concretely a public backlash against all things cheap and over-manufactured and flavorless.
Climate Change is now so widely accepted that the tables have turned; now people who doubt the effect of global warming are the ones being viewed as the tin-foil-hat wearing lunatics. The changes' most dramatic human impacts of this (for instance, as outlined in Cleo Paskal's book Global Warring) will largely involve the migration of large numbers of people away from areas where water becomes scarce, and where sea levels are rising. As a result, if you live in a desert – now would be a good time to move. And if you live somewhere like Southern Ontario, now would be a good time to invest in Real Estate.
Peak Oil is based on the increasingly accepted view that at least ½ of the oil there ever was has already been pumped out of the ground and burned. What is left, is the hard to get at/hard to refine oil like that which exists in the Tar Sands. That doesn't mean none of us will be able to get any gas in our cars in 5 years time, but it does mean that because the oil left in the ground costs so much more to extract – that the price of that gas is going to steadily climb. This will have predictable effects on our economy, and our way of life – especially considering that the average Caesar Salad travels around 2500 miles from farm to table.
Finally – this will all be shaped by a growing public backlash against the types of behaviors that have caused global warming and accelerated the arrival of peal oil. Wal Mart's 'warehouse on wheels' and it's endless shelves of cheap, disposable garbage that nobody needs. Tomatoes that feel and taste like racquetballs because they were picked under-ripe and chemically 'ripened' in a truck on the way to the store. Big box stores where nobody knows you, understands what you need, or particularly cares. Clothes whose price tag clearly indicate they must have been made in appalling working conditions – with possible child slaves.
This backlash has taken the form of an increased interest in shopping at local boutique stores, in growing vegetable gardens in the back yard, in taking public transit and in 'homesteading crafts' like knitting, sewing and preserving vegetables.
What is the next economy going to look like? Well for one it's going to be much more local than we have been used to. Almost everyone will be on the 100 mile diet, rather than just few hard core enthusiasts. Public Transit will be the preferred method of getting to and from work, and the nature of work will change. As the cost of overseas shipping skyrockets, more and more manufacturing industries are going to come back 'onshore', resulting in entire generations switching their vocations from barista or stock clerk in a big box store to craftsperson or factory worker.
Communities will get a lot more walkable as land uses intensify and diversify. Jeff Rubin says that 10,000,000 cars will come off the road. That means that if you own a home near a grocery store or transit route, your property will be worth a whole lot more than somewhere that can only be reached by car (or pick-up truck!) - unless you are far enough out to participate on the supply end of the aforementioned 100 mile diet.
People won't quibble any more about having a small shopping plaza open next to their suburban cul de sac - at least it will mean they won't have to drive anywhere for their bag of milk or their haircut. People will also have to get used to the meat packing plants and other 'less than pleasant' companies moving back to the city, after having been exiled to the country by a society that wanted less and less to do with where their food actually came from.
Will the future, though, be bleak in a world with paper butcher wrap instead of saran wrap (which is made of petroleum products) and all of us crammed into a limited number of biodiesel buses?
I don't think so, not for a minute. People are incredibly resourceful, and will find all sorts of creative ways of making money with their talents, of sharing their resources, of coming together as communities to help each other out, and of celebrating their collective victories.
The other day I got on an elevator with a well dressed man who was complaining that he had invested thousand of dollars in a snow blower, only to have no snow. “I was hoping to get outside and meet my neighbors for the second time this year as I offer to snow blow their driveways.” he remarked.
In the Next Economy, he will know his neighbors really well – because he will probably be trading that snow blowing service for homemade jam, or hand knitted mitts and a toque.
Greg Brown on his amazing record The Live One describes life in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan as one where “if you see someone stuck at the side of the road, you damn well better stop. People up there need each other,” he explains. “That's how you build community. All of this talk about intentional community is a bunch of baloney, people have to need each other.”
And that, will be the Next Economy in a nutshell.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
OPG Announces Voluntary Power Rationing
I got a lively, cheerful notice in the mail the other day, along with my garganutan Horizon Utilities bill - that announced that soon I would have one of the much vaunted 'smart meters' installed at my house.
Yes, Horizon is introducing time of use pricing for electricity. Use power during peak periods (which vary by season and day of week) and it'll run you 9.3c/kwh, mid peak - 8 c/kwh, and off peak, a miserly 4.4 c/kwh.
In effect, Ontario Power Generation has admitted that they do not have enough power to feed a potential peak demand (i.e. a province in full economic recovery on a hot summer day) and they are now asking people to reduce their use at certain times of the day, and save their use for other times when there is less demand on the system.
This is called 'voluntary rationing.'
Years ago, I had the immense privelege of going to Nicaragua, where I stayed for two seperate weeks in the capital Managua, and delivered training to two groups of contact centre employees. One morning in class, I asked if everyone had done their homework. Nobody had. When I asked for reasons, someone was kind enough to explain to this utterly ignorant northerner the realities of life in a city with a truly disfunctional grid.
Each section of the city, only had power at certain times of the day - and then for only 4 hour bursts. The people in my class who had not done their homework, only had power between midnight and 4:00 am. Not so helpful. And at 44C in the shade, with about 98% humidity, candles were totally out of the question (near the equator, the sun goes down promptly at 5:30 pm)
Now, Ontario has a looooong way to go before it reaches that point, and probably never will, but the prospect of the power generating authority for the province tacitly admitting there could potentially not be enough to go around, is a little chilling.
They're not the only ones saying that.
The constant theme of this blog is that for most of us in the west, in the face of things to come, life is just going to get less convenient. But doesn't have to get less pleasant, or less enjoyable.
Things can be awfully romantic by candlelight, and if you know how to sing, or play an acoustic instrument, you can be the life of the party even during a brownout.
People can still gather around a board game, and a glass of red wine, and have a real genuine conversation. It's like that ad on TV for Sobeys about when the power goes out, and everyone gets together for a big potluck because the food in their fridge is about to go off.
Maybe when we're not plugged into our iPods, or Netbooks, or...dare I say it (at the time I'm writing this) Canada vs. USA hockey games going on 5000 km away, then maybe we'll take time to connect with real people - people around us that we love, and could grow to love.
Maybe a little power rationing is just what a 'community' needs.
Yes, Horizon is introducing time of use pricing for electricity. Use power during peak periods (which vary by season and day of week) and it'll run you 9.3c/kwh, mid peak - 8 c/kwh, and off peak, a miserly 4.4 c/kwh.
In effect, Ontario Power Generation has admitted that they do not have enough power to feed a potential peak demand (i.e. a province in full economic recovery on a hot summer day) and they are now asking people to reduce their use at certain times of the day, and save their use for other times when there is less demand on the system.
This is called 'voluntary rationing.'
Years ago, I had the immense privelege of going to Nicaragua, where I stayed for two seperate weeks in the capital Managua, and delivered training to two groups of contact centre employees. One morning in class, I asked if everyone had done their homework. Nobody had. When I asked for reasons, someone was kind enough to explain to this utterly ignorant northerner the realities of life in a city with a truly disfunctional grid.
Each section of the city, only had power at certain times of the day - and then for only 4 hour bursts. The people in my class who had not done their homework, only had power between midnight and 4:00 am. Not so helpful. And at 44C in the shade, with about 98% humidity, candles were totally out of the question (near the equator, the sun goes down promptly at 5:30 pm)
Now, Ontario has a looooong way to go before it reaches that point, and probably never will, but the prospect of the power generating authority for the province tacitly admitting there could potentially not be enough to go around, is a little chilling.
They're not the only ones saying that.
The constant theme of this blog is that for most of us in the west, in the face of things to come, life is just going to get less convenient. But doesn't have to get less pleasant, or less enjoyable.
Things can be awfully romantic by candlelight, and if you know how to sing, or play an acoustic instrument, you can be the life of the party even during a brownout.
People can still gather around a board game, and a glass of red wine, and have a real genuine conversation. It's like that ad on TV for Sobeys about when the power goes out, and everyone gets together for a big potluck because the food in their fridge is about to go off.
Maybe when we're not plugged into our iPods, or Netbooks, or...dare I say it (at the time I'm writing this) Canada vs. USA hockey games going on 5000 km away, then maybe we'll take time to connect with real people - people around us that we love, and could grow to love.
Maybe a little power rationing is just what a 'community' needs.
Monday, February 15, 2010
GIve Me Convenience, or Give Me Death
While listening to CBC the other night, a journalist who had just returned from Haiti, asked what I think is an extremely relevant question in light of the coming changes we are likely to see in our planet.
“What would you do if you called 911, and nobody came?” Or if it was really obvious that there was no point in calling 911. Or if the phone system itself had totally shut down, and there was no way to call 911?
It’s a chilling question for those of us who count on what we view as the most basic infrastructure to always be there.
The reality is, though, that the future is certain to hold more dramatic weather events and extreme temperatures, which is certain to result in more frequent failure of our power, communication, and civil infrastructures. Just ask the people in Washington D.C. It might not be this year, or next, or even 10 years from now. But it’s coming.
Cody Lund’s When All Hell Breaks Loose
(not that I am anywhere close to being a Survivalist, but it was an interesting read) describes a study that was done where people who had at least contemplated what they would do in a disaster, were dramatically better able to handle the psychological trauma of such an event than those who had always denied it would happen.
So now’s your time to contemplate. When there’s nobody to answer your 911 call, what will you do?
Or if the power goes off for a week at a stretch – which is not far fetched. During the 2003 blackout, some were without power that long, and during the Montreal ice storm in ’99 some went without power for longer – how are you going to cope?
Is the solution to buy a big generator, and start spewing two stroke exhaust into the air? Or to get a woodburning stove, and start deforesting the urban canopy as soon as the lights go out? Or is it to prepare in a way that means that for a few days or weeks you might be inconvenienced, but will still survive.
Which is the crux of the whole debate going on about climate change in the first place: In order for our civilization to stand any chance of looking remotely like it does now, we are all going to have to get really inconvenienced.
Not walking 5 miles a day to get water inconvenienced, but by our standards, pretty damned awkward.
For instance, to get to my job in Toronto, I have a choice of driving one person to a car – listening to my music, not having to breath other people’s air, and having my own space - or cramming in like a sardine for the hour and a quarter GO bus or GO train trip.
Guess which one is remarkably inconvenient. It’s also the only one that makes sense in the context of contributing in some small way to the solution. Here’s the deal though – when gas reaches $1.40 a litre (my prediction is by Victoria Day) – the $18.50 for a day pass is going to look a whole lot more convenient that cutting back on the grocery bill to pay for gas.
The question is: How to get people to choose inconvenient – but more sensible – solutions before they (in terms of gas prices) or we (in terms of constant, crippling weather events) hit the wall?
Because you know what? Some people are going to just have to suck it up. Which is a skill a whole lot more people are going to have to learn if things are to stand any chance of improving.
“What would you do if you called 911, and nobody came?” Or if it was really obvious that there was no point in calling 911. Or if the phone system itself had totally shut down, and there was no way to call 911?
It’s a chilling question for those of us who count on what we view as the most basic infrastructure to always be there.
The reality is, though, that the future is certain to hold more dramatic weather events and extreme temperatures, which is certain to result in more frequent failure of our power, communication, and civil infrastructures. Just ask the people in Washington D.C. It might not be this year, or next, or even 10 years from now. But it’s coming.
Cody Lund’s When All Hell Breaks Loose
(not that I am anywhere close to being a Survivalist, but it was an interesting read) describes a study that was done where people who had at least contemplated what they would do in a disaster, were dramatically better able to handle the psychological trauma of such an event than those who had always denied it would happen.
So now’s your time to contemplate. When there’s nobody to answer your 911 call, what will you do?
Or if the power goes off for a week at a stretch – which is not far fetched. During the 2003 blackout, some were without power that long, and during the Montreal ice storm in ’99 some went without power for longer – how are you going to cope?
Is the solution to buy a big generator, and start spewing two stroke exhaust into the air? Or to get a woodburning stove, and start deforesting the urban canopy as soon as the lights go out? Or is it to prepare in a way that means that for a few days or weeks you might be inconvenienced, but will still survive.
Which is the crux of the whole debate going on about climate change in the first place: In order for our civilization to stand any chance of looking remotely like it does now, we are all going to have to get really inconvenienced.
Not walking 5 miles a day to get water inconvenienced, but by our standards, pretty damned awkward.
For instance, to get to my job in Toronto, I have a choice of driving one person to a car – listening to my music, not having to breath other people’s air, and having my own space - or cramming in like a sardine for the hour and a quarter GO bus or GO train trip.
Guess which one is remarkably inconvenient. It’s also the only one that makes sense in the context of contributing in some small way to the solution. Here’s the deal though – when gas reaches $1.40 a litre (my prediction is by Victoria Day) – the $18.50 for a day pass is going to look a whole lot more convenient that cutting back on the grocery bill to pay for gas.
The question is: How to get people to choose inconvenient – but more sensible – solutions before they (in terms of gas prices) or we (in terms of constant, crippling weather events) hit the wall?
Because you know what? Some people are going to just have to suck it up. Which is a skill a whole lot more people are going to have to learn if things are to stand any chance of improving.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Farmers and the Environment
I wrote the other day about Farmers, and how they tend to resist change by attempting to eliminate any kind of negative effect that could result from proposed changes.
This leads to me, somewhat obliquely to the hand wringing going on by climate change scientists around the world about how to get people to do something – anything – to address climate change.
By some estimates, the amount of carbon in the air (in parts per million) that we need to be at in order to prevent some really serious consequences is 350 ppm. Not so bad, except that we are currently at 387.27 ppm. So we're pretty much hosed. What these climate change scientists are basically saying is that if we turn all the cars, factories, and fossil fuel burning power plants off today – right now! - then we'll be at a safe level in a couple hundred years after the environment has naturally sequestered the dangerous excess.
This illustrates quite nicely the problem with putting a bunch of Hunters in charge of managing change.
One of my son's favorite books (he's 5 years old) is Dr. Seuss' classic, The Lorax. In it, a small furry creature, the Lorax, encounters an industrious figure known as the Onceler, and entreats him at every opportunity to stop despoiling the environment. Of course his entreaties fall on deaf ears, and the last of the Trufula trees is felled, and the whole system collapses.
The essential message of the Lorax for industry, is: “If you don't change your ways, you will have no more raw materials left to produce with – and we'll all be destroyed.”
Unfortunately, the little understood (and largely unintentional) message to the environmental movement is: Shrill denouncements of industry – telling companies and people that what they are doing is bad-bad-bad-bad and they need to shape up – basically gets you ignored.”
In the end, the coming environmental/geo-political hardships are as much the fault of the Loraxes as they are of the Oncelers.
Farmers (I use the term technically not vocationally), it has been said, fear change of any kind – and the more someone (especially them) is likely to be harmed by the change, the more they resist it. Don't believe me? Open up an Albertan newspaper any time, and you will see a letter to the editor, or God help me an actual editorial – denouncing the 'soft science' of climate change, and refusing to acknowledge the realities that are as plain as the nose on Gaia's face.
Why? Because if we adopt harsh environmental standards, and begin to cut back our consumption levels to the point that the planet can sustain them – people are going to get hurt. Jobs will be lost, families will be uprooted, communities will disappear. It is inevitable. It is also much more immediate, much more 'real' than the oblique threat of the your summertime being two degrees warmer. “Hell, we're in Canada” they say. “We could use a couple extra degrees.”
What's the solution? Conversation, dialogue. Engaging your friends and neighbors one conversation at at a time. In coffee shops, on the GO train, whenever the opportunity presents itself. The Hunters need to engage in rational, one on one dialogue with every Farmer they can find, and the conversation needs to acknowledge that the short term pain will be great, and that the Farmers hate the idea, and it's ok to hate it every step of the way– but that the consequences of inaction are far, far worse.
This leads to me, somewhat obliquely to the hand wringing going on by climate change scientists around the world about how to get people to do something – anything – to address climate change.
By some estimates, the amount of carbon in the air (in parts per million) that we need to be at in order to prevent some really serious consequences is 350 ppm. Not so bad, except that we are currently at 387.27 ppm. So we're pretty much hosed. What these climate change scientists are basically saying is that if we turn all the cars, factories, and fossil fuel burning power plants off today – right now! - then we'll be at a safe level in a couple hundred years after the environment has naturally sequestered the dangerous excess.
This illustrates quite nicely the problem with putting a bunch of Hunters in charge of managing change.
One of my son's favorite books (he's 5 years old) is Dr. Seuss' classic, The Lorax. In it, a small furry creature, the Lorax, encounters an industrious figure known as the Onceler, and entreats him at every opportunity to stop despoiling the environment. Of course his entreaties fall on deaf ears, and the last of the Trufula trees is felled, and the whole system collapses.
The essential message of the Lorax for industry, is: “If you don't change your ways, you will have no more raw materials left to produce with – and we'll all be destroyed.”
Unfortunately, the little understood (and largely unintentional) message to the environmental movement is: Shrill denouncements of industry – telling companies and people that what they are doing is bad-bad-bad-bad and they need to shape up – basically gets you ignored.”
In the end, the coming environmental/geo-political hardships are as much the fault of the Loraxes as they are of the Oncelers.
Farmers (I use the term technically not vocationally), it has been said, fear change of any kind – and the more someone (especially them) is likely to be harmed by the change, the more they resist it. Don't believe me? Open up an Albertan newspaper any time, and you will see a letter to the editor, or God help me an actual editorial – denouncing the 'soft science' of climate change, and refusing to acknowledge the realities that are as plain as the nose on Gaia's face.
Why? Because if we adopt harsh environmental standards, and begin to cut back our consumption levels to the point that the planet can sustain them – people are going to get hurt. Jobs will be lost, families will be uprooted, communities will disappear. It is inevitable. It is also much more immediate, much more 'real' than the oblique threat of the your summertime being two degrees warmer. “Hell, we're in Canada” they say. “We could use a couple extra degrees.”
What's the solution? Conversation, dialogue. Engaging your friends and neighbors one conversation at at a time. In coffee shops, on the GO train, whenever the opportunity presents itself. The Hunters need to engage in rational, one on one dialogue with every Farmer they can find, and the conversation needs to acknowledge that the short term pain will be great, and that the Farmers hate the idea, and it's ok to hate it every step of the way– but that the consequences of inaction are far, far worse.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Change is in the Air
Thanks to Ryan and Raise the Hammer for posting my thoughts on the Lizard Brain and resisting change.
The LRT debate is not the only place that I am encountering this kind of resistance these days – it's everywhere. At work, in our communities, at all levels of Government, at our schools – every day there are people around you who are resisting change that you, and people who see the world the way you do, agree is absolutely necessary. In a lot of cases - this is good. Necessary checks and balances on our system. Reckless, unfettered change is just as bad as stagnation.
The crux of the matter stems from a basic division in world views. It has been said that there are two types of people: Those who feel the need to divide the world into two types, and those who don't. I am definitely in the former camp.
In my world, the most meaningful distinctions is: Hunters and Farmers.
Hunters, are for the most part impulsive, make quick decisions, are very comfortable with risk and change, but have short attention spans, and not a lot of staying power. Traditionally their job was to sit around much of the time, and then when people started to get hungry, go out and get dinner. Often alone, or in small groups, and in a state of hyper-awareness (which we would now call 'easily distracted') they would pounce on any sudden movement and deliver a quick, decisive and lethal blow. Then they would drag the carcass back to camp for someone else to deal with. In a primitive society before farming, everything depended on the Hunter's ability to think quickly, adapt to change, and make instant – good – decisions.
Farmers, are for the most part patient, 'in-it-for-the-long-haul' kind of people. Traditionally their job was to make balanced decisions about seeds, sow them cautiously, and patiently care for the shoots and plants until dutifully harvesting.the crops. This way everyone could be assured food. With the diminished role of hunters in our primitive society – everything hung on the Farmer's ability to be cautious, patient, and do what has worked before.
Seeing the pattern yet?
So with that in mind, I – a bona fide, dyed-in-the-wool Hunter, present the two types of change resistance that you are likely to encounter. Think of it as a public service announcement that applies to everything from recalcitrant set-in-their-ways Primary school Principals, to local NIMBY groups opposing...oh...say...a downtown LRT.
The two ways of resisting change:
When change is proposed, say things like “That would never work in our town/business/school because things are different here. People would never 'use florescent lightbulbs/abandon their cars/donate their time/etc.' It would just never work in our context.” This is the adult equivalent of a kid putting their hands over their ears and loudly saying “la-la-la-la-la” Sometimes this works, but if the change is being mandated from above – it doesn't always work.
The other wasy is to, once the change is inevitable, attempt to gain control over the change itself. To try and micromanage and control every facet of the proposed changes in an effort to minimize any effect. The main tool for doing this is to demand perfection – or absolute fairness – or that nobody be even slightly negatively affected by the changes being suggested.
This is of course impossible. If you understand change, then you understand Robespierre's famous assertion that “If you want to make an Omelette, you've got to break a few eggs.” The reality is, that with any change, there are winners, and losers – that is the nature of change. The question , then, is do the benefits outweigh the costs? Is it enough of an improvement to enough people – and is it a significantly small enough impact to a small enough group of people? More importantly, who decides?
In the end, it's a process that decides. A process of push and pull, of resistors trying to protect those that they feel will be hurt, and the change agents trying to create a benefit for those who would be helped.
Keep in mind, though, that Farmers have the upper hand in resisting change. They are patient, careful, and consistent in everything they do. The change-loving Hunters tend to be impulsive, make inappropriate remarks that derail the process, and give up easily when they don't see quick results.
Keep this in mind if you are advocating change of any kind. The more eager you are for change, the more likely the fight is to take longer than you are initially willing to commit. Choose your battles carefully, 'cause you're in it for the long haul.
The LRT debate is not the only place that I am encountering this kind of resistance these days – it's everywhere. At work, in our communities, at all levels of Government, at our schools – every day there are people around you who are resisting change that you, and people who see the world the way you do, agree is absolutely necessary. In a lot of cases - this is good. Necessary checks and balances on our system. Reckless, unfettered change is just as bad as stagnation.
The crux of the matter stems from a basic division in world views. It has been said that there are two types of people: Those who feel the need to divide the world into two types, and those who don't. I am definitely in the former camp.
In my world, the most meaningful distinctions is: Hunters and Farmers.
Hunters, are for the most part impulsive, make quick decisions, are very comfortable with risk and change, but have short attention spans, and not a lot of staying power. Traditionally their job was to sit around much of the time, and then when people started to get hungry, go out and get dinner. Often alone, or in small groups, and in a state of hyper-awareness (which we would now call 'easily distracted') they would pounce on any sudden movement and deliver a quick, decisive and lethal blow. Then they would drag the carcass back to camp for someone else to deal with. In a primitive society before farming, everything depended on the Hunter's ability to think quickly, adapt to change, and make instant – good – decisions.
Farmers, are for the most part patient, 'in-it-for-the-long-haul' kind of people. Traditionally their job was to make balanced decisions about seeds, sow them cautiously, and patiently care for the shoots and plants until dutifully harvesting.the crops. This way everyone could be assured food. With the diminished role of hunters in our primitive society – everything hung on the Farmer's ability to be cautious, patient, and do what has worked before.
Seeing the pattern yet?
So with that in mind, I – a bona fide, dyed-in-the-wool Hunter, present the two types of change resistance that you are likely to encounter. Think of it as a public service announcement that applies to everything from recalcitrant set-in-their-ways Primary school Principals, to local NIMBY groups opposing...oh...say...a downtown LRT.
The two ways of resisting change:
When change is proposed, say things like “That would never work in our town/business/school because things are different here. People would never 'use florescent lightbulbs/abandon their cars/donate their time/etc.' It would just never work in our context.” This is the adult equivalent of a kid putting their hands over their ears and loudly saying “la-la-la-la-la” Sometimes this works, but if the change is being mandated from above – it doesn't always work.
The other wasy is to, once the change is inevitable, attempt to gain control over the change itself. To try and micromanage and control every facet of the proposed changes in an effort to minimize any effect. The main tool for doing this is to demand perfection – or absolute fairness – or that nobody be even slightly negatively affected by the changes being suggested.
This is of course impossible. If you understand change, then you understand Robespierre's famous assertion that “If you want to make an Omelette, you've got to break a few eggs.” The reality is, that with any change, there are winners, and losers – that is the nature of change. The question , then, is do the benefits outweigh the costs? Is it enough of an improvement to enough people – and is it a significantly small enough impact to a small enough group of people? More importantly, who decides?
In the end, it's a process that decides. A process of push and pull, of resistors trying to protect those that they feel will be hurt, and the change agents trying to create a benefit for those who would be helped.
Keep in mind, though, that Farmers have the upper hand in resisting change. They are patient, careful, and consistent in everything they do. The change-loving Hunters tend to be impulsive, make inappropriate remarks that derail the process, and give up easily when they don't see quick results.
Keep this in mind if you are advocating change of any kind. The more eager you are for change, the more likely the fight is to take longer than you are initially willing to commit. Choose your battles carefully, 'cause you're in it for the long haul.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Lizard Brain and the LRT
So I'm listening to the audiobook of Seth Godin's latest effort, Lynchpin. It has all sorts of interesting things to say about the nature of work and art, but the part that appealed to me the most was his discussion of what he calls 'the resistance'.
The resistance, is basically the part of your brain Dr.s call the Amygdala – or as some call it, the Lizard Brain. The Lizard brain is the second most primitive part of your central nervous system, and it only has a few concerns: Eating, Not being eaten, making more lizards (or whatever species it might be), anger, revenge, lust, things like that. In other words, all of the baser emotions that 'civilized' people know they have, but try and deny.
So when you are in a situation with an otherwise rational person, and suddenly they go Crazy Ivan, chances are that their Lizard Brain feels threatened. You have (however inadvertantly) threatened their ability to eat, reproduce, or avoid becoming prey. The threat itself may have come just from suggesting they do something differently. And such threats make people cranky.
Which brings us to the rather odd debate playing out in the local newspaper about the potential implementation of an LRT line across the centre of the city. The pro-LRT side has lined up on one side of the debate citing grand and glorious future benefits – greater investment in downtown, greater pedestrian activity, a greater sense of community – all good things. But in and of themselves, good things down the road sometime. In some not-too-distant, but totally unquantifiable future, things will be made immeasurably better by the LRT.
So of course, on the other side of the debate, the Lizard Brains of the various opponents are doing their collective nut. Letters and comments in the Spectator recently revealed a terrified, highly vocal group of business owners downtown who thinking with their Amygdalas. And when animals get cornered, they strike.
Simply put, they say the LRT will not work – because it's not what we have now. It's new, it's different, it's *gasp* unproven! The whole concept of an LRT track running through the downtown has made them feel threatened in their ability to eat, or not be eaten (in a figurative, competetive sense) – and they are lashing out.
The reality is, that the PRO-LRT side has done what most groups do when opposing bald faced NIMBYism. They have responded with facts and arguments and reams of data supporting their argument. “Look at Portland! Look at Calgary! Look at all of this data proving how many more people will use it!”
What has not happened, is any head-on effort to address the basic emotion in play here: Naked Fear.
This situation may stem from a common misunderstanding about how people make decisions. Most people think that decisions are reached after a careful analysis of the facts. Nothing could be further from the truth. People decide things based on 'gut reaction', and then spend enormous amounts of time and energy coming up with facts and figures to justify their decision. As a result, they cannot be swayed by facts, not matter how compelling. Don't believe me? Go out right now and try and change someone's mind about abortion or capital punishment. Go on. I'll wait.
There. Futile, wasn't it? You had all the arguments, all the data, all the facts. And they were irrelevant, because they didn't address the emotion.
Well, the first thing they teach you in customer service school about dealing with an angry (or in this case fearful) customer, is acknowledge the emotion head on (if a customer service representative has ever told you "I understand why you are upset...now let me see how I can help you..." then they are doing what they were trained to do). Next, we need to enter into an honest dialogue about what is causing the fear and how to resolve it. That means not devolving into name calling and pointing fingers – even if the other side started it.
That probably means the Chairperson of a Pro-LRT group inviting the Downtown BIA to a meeting to discuss issues and concerns in a respectful, non-confrontational way. If we want LRT to work in thic city, someone is going to have to take the first step to address the fear through meaningful dialogue. Because those of us who want change have the most to lose from things staying the same – and keeping the status quo is much easier to do than making meaningful change. We're the ones with the heavy lifting to do - we need to be the ones who extend the olive branch.
Dialogue is the most basic building block of community. Face to face, real time dialogue. Not through twitter, or emails, or RTH, or the Spec. But real people sitting across the table (preferably with food involved) to discover that in the end they really want mostly the same things - a better city for everyone.
Or maybe I'm just hopelessly naïve.
The resistance, is basically the part of your brain Dr.s call the Amygdala – or as some call it, the Lizard Brain. The Lizard brain is the second most primitive part of your central nervous system, and it only has a few concerns: Eating, Not being eaten, making more lizards (or whatever species it might be), anger, revenge, lust, things like that. In other words, all of the baser emotions that 'civilized' people know they have, but try and deny.
So when you are in a situation with an otherwise rational person, and suddenly they go Crazy Ivan, chances are that their Lizard Brain feels threatened. You have (however inadvertantly) threatened their ability to eat, reproduce, or avoid becoming prey. The threat itself may have come just from suggesting they do something differently. And such threats make people cranky.
Which brings us to the rather odd debate playing out in the local newspaper about the potential implementation of an LRT line across the centre of the city. The pro-LRT side has lined up on one side of the debate citing grand and glorious future benefits – greater investment in downtown, greater pedestrian activity, a greater sense of community – all good things. But in and of themselves, good things down the road sometime. In some not-too-distant, but totally unquantifiable future, things will be made immeasurably better by the LRT.
So of course, on the other side of the debate, the Lizard Brains of the various opponents are doing their collective nut. Letters and comments in the Spectator recently revealed a terrified, highly vocal group of business owners downtown who thinking with their Amygdalas. And when animals get cornered, they strike.
Simply put, they say the LRT will not work – because it's not what we have now. It's new, it's different, it's *gasp* unproven! The whole concept of an LRT track running through the downtown has made them feel threatened in their ability to eat, or not be eaten (in a figurative, competetive sense) – and they are lashing out.
The reality is, that the PRO-LRT side has done what most groups do when opposing bald faced NIMBYism. They have responded with facts and arguments and reams of data supporting their argument. “Look at Portland! Look at Calgary! Look at all of this data proving how many more people will use it!”
What has not happened, is any head-on effort to address the basic emotion in play here: Naked Fear.
This situation may stem from a common misunderstanding about how people make decisions. Most people think that decisions are reached after a careful analysis of the facts. Nothing could be further from the truth. People decide things based on 'gut reaction', and then spend enormous amounts of time and energy coming up with facts and figures to justify their decision. As a result, they cannot be swayed by facts, not matter how compelling. Don't believe me? Go out right now and try and change someone's mind about abortion or capital punishment. Go on. I'll wait.
There. Futile, wasn't it? You had all the arguments, all the data, all the facts. And they were irrelevant, because they didn't address the emotion.
Well, the first thing they teach you in customer service school about dealing with an angry (or in this case fearful) customer, is acknowledge the emotion head on (if a customer service representative has ever told you "I understand why you are upset...now let me see how I can help you..." then they are doing what they were trained to do). Next, we need to enter into an honest dialogue about what is causing the fear and how to resolve it. That means not devolving into name calling and pointing fingers – even if the other side started it.
That probably means the Chairperson of a Pro-LRT group inviting the Downtown BIA to a meeting to discuss issues and concerns in a respectful, non-confrontational way. If we want LRT to work in thic city, someone is going to have to take the first step to address the fear through meaningful dialogue. Because those of us who want change have the most to lose from things staying the same – and keeping the status quo is much easier to do than making meaningful change. We're the ones with the heavy lifting to do - we need to be the ones who extend the olive branch.
Dialogue is the most basic building block of community. Face to face, real time dialogue. Not through twitter, or emails, or RTH, or the Spec. But real people sitting across the table (preferably with food involved) to discover that in the end they really want mostly the same things - a better city for everyone.
Or maybe I'm just hopelessly naïve.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Why Jeff Rubin Makes Me Want to Patch My Jeans
Years ago, when I was a little boy, I had a severe case of what could only be called "Scalpel Knees" I could wear through the knees of a new pair of pants in about 2 1/2 weeks. And when I did, my mom did the only sensible thing she could - she would simply patch it. I hated the big blue patches on the outside of my jeans, and kept trying to convince her to sew the patches on the inside of where the hole was. This would of course be pointless. So the jeans kept getting patched. There was a kind of street cred to being fairly scruffy when you're 5, and the patches made me look far too respectable.
Now I'm "all growed up," and I have a wonderfully comfortable pair of jeans, that I have worn to just the right consistency. Except that there is a HUGE hole in them, just to the right of the fly. They are still comfortable, I still wear them around the house, but can't be seen in public with them.
Normally, I would go out and buy a new pair of jeans – recession notwithstanding, you can usually pick up a pair somewhere for $20 or so – if you have a Costco card, or aren't particularly concerned about being on the cutting edge of fashion.
But Jeff Rubin makes me want to patch them. A while ago I finished Rubin's amazing book Why Your World is About to get a Whole Lot Smaller. In it, he posits that our whole lifestyle is about to change dramatically because there simply isn't enough oil left in the ground any where that it's cost effective to drill it out. He predicts triple digit oil prices are here to stay, and says that as gas goes to $5-7 a gallon in the U.S. in the next year or so – up to 10,000,000 cars might come off the road in the coming decade.
He also says that pretty much everything we enjoy about our standard of living is based on the availability of cheap oil. Everything from the plastic that makes nearly everything we use, to the cheap jeans that have been shipped by container from Bangladesh. Which is to say that as the price of bunker fuel (the cheap, gooey oil that container ships run on) goes through the roof – it's no longer going to make sense to get our clothes from overseas, and we'll start to bring those jobs back home.
That, however, is going to require a shift in thinking by the consuming public.
Years ago I worked in a really nice Men's clothing store in Calgary, and there was a sale table at the front with dress shirts on for about $30. A gentleman came in and began to complain loudly that everything was being made in China, why couldn't he buy a shirt made in Canada. “Of course you can,” explained the owner, Graham. He took the gentleman to the back of the store where the $120 Canadian made Behar Cline shirts were. The man walked out with a $30 Chinese special.
Then Graham went on one of his usual rants about how if people aren't willing to pay the prices required to manufacture items in North America, then they need to shut up about all the jobs going offshore to China. "They're the ones chasing the jobs there by refusing to pay the higher prices!"
So all of this is to say – if the jobs do come back, and pay standard North American wages and benefits - it is soon going to be no longer feasible for most of us to go and buy new clothes every time we get a snag or a rip in our favorite pair of jeans.
In that case, I would like to start the whole “patching your jeans' trend now. Now, I have never exactly been a fashion forward kind of guy – but I”m thinking the appropriately coloured patch tastefully sewn on would fit me in quite nicely into the artistic elite down on James St. North.
That combined with the fact that when neighborhood fixtures Warren and Catherine moved out of here a year ago, they left behind a sewing machine, means I'm rarin' to give it a go.
If it works out, I'll try and post photos.
Now I'm "all growed up," and I have a wonderfully comfortable pair of jeans, that I have worn to just the right consistency. Except that there is a HUGE hole in them, just to the right of the fly. They are still comfortable, I still wear them around the house, but can't be seen in public with them.
Normally, I would go out and buy a new pair of jeans – recession notwithstanding, you can usually pick up a pair somewhere for $20 or so – if you have a Costco card, or aren't particularly concerned about being on the cutting edge of fashion.
But Jeff Rubin makes me want to patch them. A while ago I finished Rubin's amazing book Why Your World is About to get a Whole Lot Smaller. In it, he posits that our whole lifestyle is about to change dramatically because there simply isn't enough oil left in the ground any where that it's cost effective to drill it out. He predicts triple digit oil prices are here to stay, and says that as gas goes to $5-7 a gallon in the U.S. in the next year or so – up to 10,000,000 cars might come off the road in the coming decade.
He also says that pretty much everything we enjoy about our standard of living is based on the availability of cheap oil. Everything from the plastic that makes nearly everything we use, to the cheap jeans that have been shipped by container from Bangladesh. Which is to say that as the price of bunker fuel (the cheap, gooey oil that container ships run on) goes through the roof – it's no longer going to make sense to get our clothes from overseas, and we'll start to bring those jobs back home.
That, however, is going to require a shift in thinking by the consuming public.
Years ago I worked in a really nice Men's clothing store in Calgary, and there was a sale table at the front with dress shirts on for about $30. A gentleman came in and began to complain loudly that everything was being made in China, why couldn't he buy a shirt made in Canada. “Of course you can,” explained the owner, Graham. He took the gentleman to the back of the store where the $120 Canadian made Behar Cline shirts were. The man walked out with a $30 Chinese special.
Then Graham went on one of his usual rants about how if people aren't willing to pay the prices required to manufacture items in North America, then they need to shut up about all the jobs going offshore to China. "They're the ones chasing the jobs there by refusing to pay the higher prices!"
So all of this is to say – if the jobs do come back, and pay standard North American wages and benefits - it is soon going to be no longer feasible for most of us to go and buy new clothes every time we get a snag or a rip in our favorite pair of jeans.
In that case, I would like to start the whole “patching your jeans' trend now. Now, I have never exactly been a fashion forward kind of guy – but I”m thinking the appropriately coloured patch tastefully sewn on would fit me in quite nicely into the artistic elite down on James St. North.
That combined with the fact that when neighborhood fixtures Warren and Catherine moved out of here a year ago, they left behind a sewing machine, means I'm rarin' to give it a go.
If it works out, I'll try and post photos.
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