Giving back: revisited

Back in November, outfitted in my semantic warrior armor I went into battle with the evils underlying the expression--give back.

I hit the nail on the head several times and yet I left so much unsettled. In my fervor to expunge the demon behind the words I did not go nearly far enough. Here is the rest of it:

For some time now I've been searching for some universal principle for how humans might better process their understanding of how to live well in this world. There are many a man-made mechanism to choose from as the founding causal agent of so much grief. The whole idea of worthiness and legal tender gets awfully murky and no more so than the words we use to deflect these entanglements.

So I kept moving these words over in my mind like a worry stone. Take from/give back, take from/give back, take from/give back.

What got me started down a satisfying, civilized path was a quip I made on Facebook last year. It was an observation I made about how differently a person is viewed in that time between birth and death. At birth we are welcomed into the world as a bundle of joy. It is expected that for our growth and development we must take nourishment from those who brought us here. Already the fluid line between giving and taking begins to define itself. Rather than continuing to work from inside this originating mentality of love and acceptance, it is made clear that at some point as one comes of age a break must occur and your taking from is now considered an evil dependence. A rite of passage celebrates the time when you will start learning all the many ways in which you must give back, because surely you will want to show how grateful you are for all the blessings bestowed upon you from birth.

So, dear human, you have just officially been outed. There is, in fact, nothing that you will give without incurring debt, not even life itself. Thus begins the cascade of corrective measures we spend a lifetime perfecting. If we're doing it right, we make our own way in the world. If we are careful we can even save for the future and willingly incur debt without fear. If, on the other hand, we are dealt a setback of immediate consequences we may need to accept charity, a word so heavily burdened with reluctant significance that even the depression era bum angrily spouts: "I don't accept charity."

I remember an old roommate once proudly claiming: "I've never been so poor that I couldn't leave town."

Everyone, it seems, has a story about their pride in surviving, winning, thriving, and doing it on as little as possible. I don't mind the applause. I love a great story. But avoiding material poverty isn't an honest method for inducing pride.

What would it be like if we could flip this coin? 

What if the bundle of joy attitude could last your whole life? I'm convinced that we fail to question ourselves about these ideas because we can't admit to our own self-hatred. There seems to be an inherent impulse toward self-loathing and distrust. Do we really believe that without a governance based on the fear of punishment that all humanity would simply run amok? And yet what is the belief in original sin but precisely that? 

If the life-long messages a person was bathed in were ones of love and acceptance even in the face of mistake or wrong doing, how different would the world be? How would this be tied to exchange and legal tender? Instead of every man for himself amid a hierarchy of social classes, what if groups tried to outdo each other in competitions of generosity? It does sound like I'm veering off into la-la land.

In order to make this fundamental change we couldn't even take our cues from the world around us. This is because from the animals we get the pack, the herd mentality and the pecking order--all hierarchies. Humans have never evolved a more effective social structure than what animal nature provides. We accepted it by default. Most of the greatest advice from one human to another is all about overcoming or coping with what is rather than creating what should be. Thus we perpetuate a learned helplessness about our own nature. Such is the burden of intellect and wisdom when confronting base animal instincts. We can describe and prescribe what should be done, but the realization of our emotional ideals remains ever illusive. 

How do we stay in the lofty spaces of our higher selves? Even if we can agree on what they are, protection and self-defense are powerful forces always ready to create a buffer for us. 

Only two choices

I've always been fascinated with the claim that ultimately there are only two emotions: fear and love. You'd have to admit that humanity has never managed to evolve away from fear and move closer to love. 

But this IS the era of the twenty-first century citizen, is it not? If not now, when? 

'Tis the season after all, the one time of the year when we are enticed to believe that another world is possible, but only temporarily, perhaps as a way to allow us safe passage into the new year. 

And with that, dear reader, this citizen is signing off for the year and wishing you a winter full of love. 

'til next year...

Ciao bella,

Marcella

The fragility of complex systems

(I hope you didn't drown in my stream of consciousness during the last post. Now on to those signs of intelligent life.) 

If you've ever wanted an intelligent analysis of the probability of  some key future trends, look no further than the recent Seattle Times column by Jon Talton. He highlights the findings of a report by the McKinsey Global Institute.

Many of the trends in the lengthy bullet list are already happening or are well on their way to becoming reality. Regardless of how business leaders and policymakers react to the disruptions that come from these future events, very few "...account for the fragility of complex systems."

Talton cites several economists who see either a prolonged stagnation or an eventual recovery. For what it is worth he doesn't necessarily side with one or the other in this long-running debate, but one statement that remains questionable is:

"Policymakers must ensure that retraining is ramped up to maintain advanced workforce skills."

So we know that everyone must "...maximize their opportunities while dealing with the challenges." But hasn't the get-more-education-and-you-will-prevail sentiment long since been dismantled by so many who have already tried? The point is, if the predicted changes are happening at such an accelerated speed, how can any class of working individuals maintain their workforce skills?  Talton says business will need to be an early adopter. I agree, and yet business is not very supportive of expenditure on worker retraining. That is left to the public sphere that grows more circumspect about where to place its monetary emphasis.

Who can blame them? We are obviously in a bind between what is already happening, especially in terms of automated knowledge work, and the future displacement of people who have already trained well for a future that will now nullify the validity of their training. This is a cruel trap played out over and over again.

As I was discussing this topic with my husband I couldn't help but state the obvious:

"Bill Joy was right! The future doesn't need to accommodate as many people as will populate it and then what?"

Try as I might not to turn into a 21st century version of Chicken Little, I couldn't think my way out of this conclusion. Mr. Joy had it all pegged back in April 2000.

Do you trust the so-called business leaders? Policymakers? Hmmm, should I learn how to make a drone so I can help Amazon conquer the world in record time? Right to your door in 30 minutes! If speed of delivery by drone deposit is the best innovation our business leaders have to offer, we've got a lot more to worry about than being obsolete.

Survivor's guilt or please don't kick my puppy

It's not that I'm too shy, or don't have anything to say. It is, when you get right down to it, a nagging feeling that I'm just not supposed to be here. I survived the holidays, got back home from a lovely trip out of town, and now it is Monday and I've got survivor's guilt. 

This thing called guilt comes in many different flavors, but they all amount to the same thing. What am I doing here, and why? It is as if my very existence has not been summoned, is not really needed, and by the way, we're not even going to bother asking you to do anything. 

It's sinking in now. This is how the unemployed feel. This is how returning veterans feel. I understand it. I get it. There is only so much self-creation one can do on a daily basis. That is why I steer clear of using catchall phrases like "I'm reinventing myself." Uh, no I'm not, not really. I think I'm OK the way I am. Everything else is simply accommodating what I imagine some social force in the world expects of me. 

I'm losing interest with these imagined forces. The problem is imagination sometimes comes true. You will meet that person who has the audacity to ask: So what do you do all day? I wish I had the balls on the spot to make something up, something exaggerated and ridiculous like I clean cages at the zoo, or I track the accuracy of metro bus schedules within a two block radius of my home, or I provide an ear candling service for pregnant teenagers. Huh? 

The fact is the guilt is there; I see it, but I don't think it is really mine. I'm merely holding onto it on behalf of the people who really deserve to be feeling it and doing something to relieve it. That is how I came to hear words thrown out of my mouth over dinner a couple nights ago. I was making reference to a publication that had as its subtitle Redefining Prosperity. I found myself emphatically saying "I don't think we need to redefine prosperity. We need to redefine CRIME!" 

What I wanted to go on expounding was how corrosive the effect has been of not punishing the institutions and  people therein who created the financial collapse of 2008. That wasn't merely the downfall of companies, stock valuations, careers and livelihoods; it was much more insidious than that. When there are no corrective measures taken, no truth telling, then collectively we forfeit our most important values. 

It is difficult to imagine that a deep sense of right and wrong isn't somehow ingrained in every human being. How many people can watch another person kick a puppy without cringing in horror, quickly followed by sorrow and rage?

Every time I see that smirking grin on Lou Blankfein's face I think: That's who. That's who could kick a puppy. 

The point is there is an unimaginable amount of disconnect between what any one individual holds true as the core of his identity in human society and the actions that are allowed to be taken by these collective assemblages some people belong to called corporations. As if that weren't bad enough, there is another assemblage called the Supreme Court of the United States that has deemed it necessary to give corporations the same rights as individuals. 

I might be considered a conspiracy theorist if this wasn't actually true. I'm absolutely sure I could not make this up all by myself. I'm a clever girl, but there are lines even I could not conceive of, let alone cross. 

And so my sorrow lurks more deeply. I am the guilty party for being a part of this country, for having put my hand across my heart as a child to recite the pledge of allegiance, for wanting to believe there is such a thing as justice, social contracts, fairness. I may still hold out hope for certain individuals, but collectively as an entity called society? Nope. Sorry, that puppy got his ass kicked. 

Why we need to stop giving back

A few years ago I was watching Oprah talk with John Travolta. I wasn't really paying attention to the television screen until I heard one of them say: "Doesn't it feel good to give back?" The other one heartily agreed. I remember that moment as the time I started paying attention to that expression and how often it is used.

The more I heard it the less I liked it. The essential idea behind using the term give back seems well-intentioned, but unpack that semantic baggage and you've got some seriously dirty laundry. Every single time I hear it I can't help but complete the sentiment in my head. It goes like this:

I'd really like to give back to my community because let's face it, I took too much the first time!

Hidden in plain sight is the notion that with abundance comes obligation and a requisite amount of guilt. The quest for wealth is made less problematic because one can so easily get rid of this guilt by giving back. Thus you can be admired for your accumulation without incurring any righteous disdain because you've done your part to relieve the burden the rest of us must feel for not being you.

Thus begins the push-me-pull-you schizophrenia of the desires we are conditioned to possess and the unrelenting terror of having no upper limit so that we may know exactly when it is time for us to give back. Tell me John, was it before or after you bought that first jet? I'm thinking--after.

If you have any doubt about whether this whole do-I-have-enough-money business is a creepy, ew-inducing insanity, all you need do is discover the etymology of the word tithe on Wikipedia.


Believe it or not I was raised a good Christian so I had a little background with this concept:

...the New Testament scriptures are seen as teaching the concept of "free will offerings" as a means of supporting the church...

That should read supporting the work of the church which presumably is caring for the less fortunate. And what about free will?

I must have tuned into this philosophical conundrum early on because I can remember after church one Sunday when I was a kid one of my parents grousing at how little some of the other parishioners put in the basket. What made it so easy to feel superior?

Not for me thanks. But not so fast. The sad fact in understanding conditioned responses is knowing that you, too, have never escaped them.

How we use language is a hugely conditioned response. Its power to perpetuate stupidity continues unquestioned unless we simply start making better choices with how we describe important concepts.

I want to encourage people to make free will offerings anytime they feel so moved, but if you didn't take too much in the first place, what the hell do you think you are giving back? No one wants your guilt, everyone needs your love.

This post is dedicated to my kindred spirit Noam Chomsky.

P.S. If you would like to read more on a related topic I highly recommend this excellent article by Ian Svenonius.

Surviving Progress

A great documentary can make you feel as compelled to watch it as it does squeamish about what it reveals. Surviving Progress is one such film. In the course of reviewing the history of debt, Michael Hudson, a former Wall Street economist, renders a characterization of oligarchy in such a stark manner that I was taken aback when he said:

“ 'You will never get back what we have taken from you.' That’s what brought on the dark ages. If you let the concentration of wealth accumulate in the hands of a financial class, this class isn’t going to be any more intelligent in the long term in disposing of the wealth than their predecessors were in other countries.”

He proposes a solution of annulling the debt to the top 10% --the oligarchs, and readily admits it is highly unlikely to happen.

“They would rather annul the 90% right to live than annul the money due to them. They would rather strip the planet, shrink the population and be paid, rather than give up their claims. That’s the political fight of the 21^st century.”

I admit I imagined the belief of the financial class was this bad, but never have I heard anyone put it in such shocking sincerity as this before. At last, it seems all is revealed.

Social change: How we got here, how we get there

    Today I'm presenting two extraordinary lectures with overlapping themes. Both involve theories of co-evolution specifically in development of our social relations, our technological advances, and our place in the natural world . The first is a 25-minute commentary by David Harvey. The second, much longer one is from Jeremy Rifkin filmed at the Ross Institute.

"We have masses of capital and masses of labor, unemployed, side by side in a world full of social need. How stupid is that?"

    
    In this film Mr. Harvey comments on the importance of bringing together a mental conception of the world that includes understanding our relations to each other, the technology we use and the natural world order. He suggests we consider how these correlate and form an evolutionary theory of social change. Mr. Harvey, a scholar of economic history, notes that Marx understood these connections, and if we want to imagine a way out of the current crisis we need to investigate this "dialectical configuration".

    Don't be put off by his academic rhetoric. You'll hear some very important concepts brilliantly woven together.

"Nature changes in its own way. We have to cope with that, even as we see that the natural things that seem to be occurring are partly a consequence of what we do."
 

     For a much more granular look at human history and the progression of consciousness and social organization, listen to Rifkin's lecture. He lays out this chronology in terms of how humanity has evolved socially in ever increasing levels of awareness. For example, during the time of foragers, hunters, and centralized agriculture, theologic consciousness formed the bonds of family through religious affiliation. When a greater convergence of communication came about through the invention of the printing press, an idealogical consciousness emerged. This in turn brought about a fictional domain known as the nation state. Presumably, the connection with a larger social identity known as my country, my nation, is more powerful than the limits of family. However, the key ingredient to Rifkin's talk is empathy and he asks if we are capable of evolving to a level of biosphere consciousness within the next 25 years. In other words, can we care about ourselves and each other enough to extend that empathy to the earth.

"When energy and communication revolutions come together they change consciousness, they change temporal/spatial orientation, they change dwelling habitats."

    

I occasionally find Mr. Rifkin hyperbolic, or over extended in his reasoning, but I cannot argue with how he characterizes how we got here and the ways in which it may still be possible to get "there".

Evolution of the world of work

Last week the New York Times published an article by Ross Douthat entitled "The world of work". It is an interesting thesis, but what I found more compeling was a comment following the article that was brilliant in its simplicity. Posted by Douglas from Minneapolis it reads:

We have reached the point at which what most people do for a living is not truly necessary anymore. We've managed to continue by means of heavily marketing all of those unecessary goods and services to convince people to spend their excess purchasing power on them. When times are good that keeps purchasing power circulating. When times are bad though, the only things people truly need to buy are made and distributed by a tiny fraction of the workforce. The circulation becomes limited to those sectors of the economy.

A society that doesn't need workers requires an entirely new economic system - one for which there is no model in existence.
 

In six simple sentences this comment sums up a self-evident force of our economy that few often speak about, but it will remain an unavoidable truth until such time as we create new models on which to base our economy.

Pursuit of the common good

(See the previous post for the cliffhanger.)

        Indeed, on the very last page, in the last two sentences in the second to the last paragraph, the Skidelskys write:

Could a society entirely devoid of the religious impulse stir itself to pursuit of the common good? We doubt it.
 

        Excuse me!? Are Robert and Edward suggesting what I think they mean? Let's see. So without a god consciousness the whole of humanity cannot summon the will to solve its problems with, for example, capitalism as the overriding force controlling our mental framework. As much as I concede it will be difficult, I can't bear to give in to this level of cynicism just yet. Besides, the so-called religious impulse they're referring to is hardly a universal human trait, whereas the fact that we live in a capitalist state is incontrovertible. I find this level of doubt about the base impulses of humanity a sad commentary even if it appears to be true.
        A month ago when I first read that page I jotted down my initial reaction—People are at war with each other because ultimately they are at war with their own human nature and what it means to come to terms with that.
        This is the heart of what is so difficult to understand, describe, and parse into meaning so that people would feel compelled to take action. How many people have to be at exactly what level of despair in order to start living differently? And don't think that despair is the sole motivator. Anyone can come to this on their own from many levels of consciousness.
        If you want to describe that as coming from god, fine, but I think you'll find that it originates equally from self-interest, survival, and simply wanting to be at peace with the world, rather than struggling with the false dichotomy that capitalism forces on us. Money = self-worth, no money = no worth.
        But don't take my word for it. If you've read TwentyFirstCenturyCitizen before, you know I've mentioned the many people who study human behavior for a living. There are so many souls out there trying to get us to believe in the depth of our better nature, our higher selves.
        I hope it's not too late, but unlike the Skidelskys, I can't bring myself to say:

I doubt it.

 



On how we get to enough

        Rather than give you a complete summary of How much is enough?, Robert and Edward Skidelsky's new book, I'd like to zero in on a few of their more salient points. In chapter seven, "Exits from the rat race", they suggest adjustments in social policy and start with a short list: 1) basic income 2) reducing the pressure to consume, and 3) reducing advertising.
        Ideas of basic income have been around for a long time, sometimes called guaranteed income, sometimes called negative income tax, as promoted by Milton Friedman. Whatever the source, bringing this to reality seems unrealistic. In fact, in 1966 Robert Theobald wrote extensively about it in Guaranteed income: freedom or chaos? He characterized the difficulty of bringing it to fruition by going to the root of our ingrained thinking.

The shift from a psychology of scarcity to that of abundance is one of the most important steps in human development. A psychology of scarcity produces anxiety, envy, egotism (to be seen most drastically in peasant cultures all over the world). A psychology of abundance produces initiative, faith in life, solidarity. The fact is that most men are still geared psychologically to the economic facts of scarcity, when the industrial world is in the process of entering a new era of economic abundance. But because of this psychological "lag" many people cannot even understand new ideas as presented in the concept of a guaranteed income, because traditional  ideas are usually determined by feelings that originated in previous forms of social existence.
 

The last sentence of this quote reminds me of Einstein's: We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.         And so, while I love this idea, I think I am not willing to wait for this "lag" as Theobald calls it, to catch up to us in this highly productive era we live in, especially given that those who have created all this incredible productivity are not the ones taking advantage of it. I don't expect the owners of empire to be loosening their grip on capital any time soon.

        The next one, however, has fascinating historical roots. Ever heard of sumptuary laws? As a way to curtail the pressure to consume, there were once laws that restricted extravagance. Can you believe luxury was a moral evil, because it implied that economic resources were being diverted from productive uses? When these laws were abolished spending on luxuries previously confined to the rich soon became a feature of everyone's desired way of expenditure. Unfortunately, prohibition and taxation of particular goods is ineffectual. Skidelsky suggests a general consumption tax as a way to reinstate the use and value of sumptuary laws.  
        The third one on the list, reduce advertising, seems like a no brainer. It would introduce tax reform so that businesses could no longer write off advertising costs as an expense. Ten percent or more of the price of goods represents the cost of advertising them. If this cost had to be absorbed by  business rather than consumers, we'd experience quite a distinguishing shift between necessities and luxury goods. Presumably those products with the weakest link to needs would have reduced sales, and the cost of essential products which need little or no advertising would stabilize and potentially decrease. Again, this idea has been in circulation for a long time. In 1997, Cecile Andrews mentioned it in her work The circle of simplicity.
        Outside of economic reform suggestions, the Skidelskys' book accurately describes the inadequate ways we've defined the good life. Chapter four even addresses the problems inherent in measuring happiness in connection to levels of material well-being. As much as I appreciated this book, it felt like territory that has been covered before in similar ways. However, just as it was about to end, in fact, on the very last page....

stay tuned

A book for the inquisitive soul

             There have been times when I have fantasized about having a life still of this world, but resolutely beyond the rat race. I live on a farm, play with animals, weave baskets, and the crops never fail. It is a world devoid of customers, bosses and the general public. It is populated only by friends who bring tureens full of soup and loaves of warm bread wrapped in linen kitchen towels. I saw this world briefly in the heartland of Minnesota when I was four years old. It was probably Lake Wobegon.
             It is this fantasy that has made me curious about people who are trying to live it. So as I study the social and economic upheavals of our time, I also look for those few courageous souls who find a way to break from the conventional path of life in the U.S.

             Nowhere is this attempt to live a singularly defined life more thoughtfully rendered than in Mark Sundeen’s book, The Man Who Quit Money. It is the story of his friend, Daniel Suelo, who throughout his adulthood seeks to reconcile his spiritual beliefs with the outward expression of his life within human society.
             Sundeen carefully, methodically builds our understanding of Daniel’s journey through his religious upbringing, college years, social maturation and his many attempts to find meaningful work. Through the use of letters, diary entries, and the recollection of friends, this man emerges complete as we see his faith transformed. He makes several attempts over many years but eventually realizes he has in many ways already come to terms with how to live without money.
             This is an intelligent work, a story that could have easily made its subject appear little more than a tragic fool, but Sundeen neatly avoids that by crafting his narrative based on Daniel’s search for meaning. I was unexpectedly moved even while I didn’t relate to every confrontation or emotional upheaval. A universal struggle threads continuously throughout the story, and Sundeen's observations bring to light a compassionate hindsight making sense of each conundrum.
             The Man Who Quit Money reveals how Daniel’s insight and intellectual inquiry develops over time. The evolution of his attitude toward poverty and wealth is woven into the context of current events and other writers and spiritual leaders. He concludes:

Money is merely the most convenient means of keeping track of the much deeper, and timeless, human inclination towards credit and debt. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yet we humans have stolen payment and debt from the gods. We cannot freely give or freely receive anything. We live under constant obligation.

            No matter your feelings about this guy, it is difficult to walk away from this book without having at least a few of your ideas about living with and working for money tweaked into a more amorphous shape. This is one of the most thought-provoking books I’ve read in 2012, and the beauty of it is that you don’t have to relate to Daniel’s struggle in order to find what sooner or later nearly everyone questions.

A nod to my inspiration

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the sources from where I've pulled together much of my thinking from the previous post. First up, for a very interesting view of collective evolution and where we ought to be setting our sights please refer to this Jeremy Rifkin book. However, I sometimes think he overreaches in his conclusions with statements that leave me scratching my head, longing for more specificity of vision. Statements like: The informal economy, which includes household production, barter, and at the extreme end, black market and criminal economic activity, is also likely to diminish as traditional economies transition into high-tech societies.

From an environmentalist and consultant point of view, refer to Paul Gilding's book. I find him to be a great pragmatist and he does not mince words about how much need there is for constraints on human behavior in the realm of capitalism and the difficulty in accomplishing policy change within the current political context.

Biosphere consciousness, social capital, and taming the market tiger

Why do I get out of bed in the morning?—to avoid becoming someone I don’t want to be, someone conscious, but not awake, someone who moves about, but isn’t strong, someone who grows distant from other people, but who wants more than anything to remain vitally engaged. So to increase my awake, strong, vitally engaged self I’m jumping back into the blog glögg and going for a swim. As I had hoped my summer hiatus, which turned into summer, fall, and most of winter, proved to be fruitful thanks to relentless cross-pollination of excellent, non-fiction reading.  I can hardly be an expert on everything that interests me. So I am encouraged when there are so many authors who dare to describe and prescribe conditions for our society’s improvement and healing. What follows is a compilation of the key points from these writers.

How will humans evolve when our choices within a market economy are driven by the very forces that serve to destroy us? While we ride the tide of ever escalating and sophisticated technology, how can we manage social changes brought in its wake?

The answer is essentially a recognition that we can no longer maintain the growth of capital at the expense of social capital. Any enterprise in the 21^st century that wants to capture the social conscience will have to do so while grounded in “biosphere consciousness.” As described by Jeremy Rifkin this organizing principle follows the natural rhythms of life, and the laws of energy. It powers every living thing in existence; photosynthesis, solar power, geo-thermal power, etc. Equally as important is the goal of social capital—empathic engagement with one’s fellow human beings. It represents accumulated trust between people and helps create the narratives that bind us together. Slowly we are learning how to treat each other and share what we have so that our culture reflects who we want to be.

Much of what has spurred the development of these ideas is the massive dysfunction of the organizations and systems in which we currently live.

Anticipated re-orgs:

·         A long string of stalemates has eroded trust in our government. People will withdraw their support or force a reorganization.

·         Intelligent technology will substitute for various forms of human labor in the commercial arena, while social capital in the collaborative community will increase.

·         Education reform: In many ways we are teaching ourselves how to live in what Rifkin calls a distributed, collaborative, open-source economy.

Our culture and its leadership have no choice but to drive the changes we seek. Transformation initiated by government can happen, but only under pressure from its citizens.

                How can the system self-correct unless we intervene?

                There is an undeniable need to impose limits on human behavior. Capitalism as we know it will re-align favorably with environmental conservation initiatives when it is proven that they deliver measurable financial reward. The market and its regulatory context must reward businesses for their performance. Rather than making business the demon, it must be reformed from within so that values of its well-being are not at odds with maintaining the health of our physical world. From decades of having witnessed the carnage of oil spills, we have learned that pleas for intelligent environmental protection have fallen on disbelieving ears, and it is insulting to imagine that the cost of repair can ever equal the loss of our one and only world. As Paul Gilding puts it, we must cage the market tiger.  

Please stay tuned for next week’s installment where we find how personal economy gets involved.