The Raw Food for Thought Series transcribes spontaneous confessions and bold conversations on how people relate to our changing world and contribute to creating it everyday. Words from anyone are in the raw, to open new lines of thinking and celebrate all that is.
Loes Damhof, co-UNESCO Chair on Futures Literacy, and Laureline Simon Krichewsky, co-founder of One Resilient Earth, discuss futures literacy and share some behind-the-scene insights and personal stories to introduce a mind shift that could empower you through crises, at all times.
Laureline: So Loes, let’s start by explaining what we are talking about. What does emergence mean to you?
Loes: Before working on emergence and futures literacy, I used to teach the so-called 21st century skills (communication, ethics, critical thinking…) at my university. I remember feeling there was always something missing from these courses. Instead of preparing students for the future, I figured students needed to become more comfortable with the unexpected, the “not knowing”. Or maybe I felt that there was a certain unpredictability that might have been missing in my teaching. I did know that the moments I enjoy teaching the most are when I’m talking to my students and a new insight comes to me, or something emerges from the classroom discussion that I did not prepare for. As in: I don’t know where it’s going, or how it fits in the class but somehow it feels right. Yes, there is confusion, there is complexity, there is not knowing but we are diving into it regardless.
Laureline: And this phenomenon of emergence is addressed by the “futures literacy” approach, right? Can you tell us more about “futures literacy”?
Loes: I got introduced to Futures Literacy by Riel Miller, head of Futures Literacy at UNESCO, who has researched how people use the future for the past 30 years. In a nutshell, Futures Literacy is a capability that allows you to imagine multiple futures, for different purposes and different contexts. We use the future to plan and to prepare, but that does not take the complexity of the universe into account. The future doesn’t exist of course and cannot be foreseen. Our predictions and dreams are always based on assumptions. Becoming aware of those helps us to open up for spontaneity, and… emergence. So if something does emerge through the cracks, it makes you realize, “hey, I did not see this” because I was making assumptions. It is neither good nor bad, just a revelation of things you took for granted. You can practice this capability by imagining futures and identifying your assumptions. But also by slowing down, acknowledging complexity as a given, and having the confidence to sit in it, swim in it, be in it. Being in that liminal space, where there is potential for going somewhere that you hadn’t thought about.
Emergence to me are the phenomena that can fill a void, previously overlooked by my own assumptions. It is the opportunity to notice something unnoticed, to appreciate something unappreciated, and to do something differently than anticipated.
It is why I decided to devote my time to understanding it better and to learning how to facilitate that mind shift for other people. Our team developed courses, labs, research projects all over the globe and ultimately received a UNESCO Chair last year.
Your turn, Laureline, how does that definition of emergence relate to resilience? What’s resilience for you?
Laureline: I first came across the concept and the powerful reality of “resilience” while working in India, 16 years ago. I was doing the evaluation of two post-disaster projects: one was a reconstruction and recovery project in villages destroyed by a devastating earthquake, and the other provided access to microcredit to muslim women who had lost their husbands, brothers and fathers during the communal riots that struck Ahmedabad in 2002. Spending time in mud huts and staying in slums with the young women who benefited from the projects taught me a lot about loss, mourning, and resilience in heartbreaking times and in the most dire conditions.
Loes: You then worked on resilience to climate change?
Laureline: Right. I then worked on resilience to climate change through research, and by supporting the international climate negotiations with the UN. That work was largely about planning. We gathered data and knowledge to determine the likely impacts and risks related to climate change, so as to help design the best possible plans to limit damage on vulnerable population groups. The intention is beautiful. But in practice, we never have adequate data, science is constantly evolving (fortunately), and computer programmes and algorithms rely on human assumptions, which both shape and come from scenarios of the evolution of the entire world over a 10- to 100-year period. There are so many limits to what we are able to anticipate: the impacts of the coronavirus crisis are in none of the scenarios that governments are already using for their climate plans, for instance. And we are currently living off a global economic system that fuels the degeneration of the biosphere…
Besides, I have always wondered what the choices underlying large-scale long-term planning are. Do we all agree we want to strengthen our dependence to data and technology? Is our vision for the future to mobilize significant resources to reduce risks as much as possible in the current global economic system? Whose resources will we mobilize? And whose risks will we reduce? Are we aiming at a shock-free world in the 21st century?
Loes: The future is not shock-free…
Laureline: No, I don’t think it could be, based on the mere observation of tectonic shifts. And even if we could make it shock-free for all human beings through artificial intelligence for instance, what would the costs associated with it be, in terms of dependence to technology and control of our lives, let alone natural resources consumption? The lockdown gives us a feel of how governments, backed by science and digital technology in some countries, can tremendously limit our freedom. Do we want more of such a world? Does it make us feel safe? If it’s the opposite, what level of technology-based planning and control are we comfortable with? Shall we rethink resilience to crises, be they global pandemics or the climate crisis, in different terms?
Shall we get back to the basics of what resilience means and create conditions in which individuals and communities are empowered to best recover from shocks and adapt to change easily?
Loes: That is when the “regenerative resilience” approach comes in?
Laureline: Yes! Establishing the right conditions for resilience is likely to generate not less but more determination to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and care for nature. Yet, this regenerative resilience approach also means acknowledging that shocks will keep on emerging, and that, in response, we need to regain agency at personal level on how we prepare for and react to those shocks everyday. This is likely to imply restoring our support systems at various scales, starting with our communities and natural environments. This could also mean looking into the mental tools we have at our disposal to face the consequences of climate change and environmental degradation.
This is why questioning our reliance on large-scale long-term planning, while welcoming emergence, in the sense of “all that emerges”, feels critical to building resilience today.
Loes: This reminds me of what my friend, writer Bayo Akomolafe points out: that how we respond to a problem is often part of the problem. This fits with what you are saying. So what if we start to focus on how we work, and how we respond and how we relate ourselves to those changes, instead of putting everything on systems that are so heavy on data …. Will this change how we contribute to climate change in itself?
If we change our behaviors and thinking in relation to resilience, will it actually change the course of the climate crisis?
Laureline: Questioning the mindset we had when creating the problem and observing if we’re resorting to mainstream assumptions to solving it, is essential, no doubt. And it’s not easy to accept that we may have had the best intentions but chose to engineer solutions that had massive costs we disregarded, and are now facing. It’s not easy to accept that we may need to radically shift our mindset, which is culturally rooted in separation from nature and others, and that this could take us to unknown territories where we have no guarantee of success by the current standards. However, I believe it is the transformation we need now to respond to our environmental and climate crises.
Loes: Is resilience also acceptance?
Laureline: Totally! I would say, resilience starts with accepting “what is” as of today, and without judgement. Accepting marks a break in the constant state of flux we are in, which usually leads us to judge an uncomfortable situation quickly before reacting to the issue by creating another issue we’ll have to deal with later. Pausing also helps explore why we are so eager to jump into action. Does the current situation have its roots in some dimensions of the human condition we do not accept in the first place? How do we feel now, as we tune into the world within and around us? Such a pause is critical to designing a hopefully wiser response, one that feels right in the moment and all the way.
Loes: But this must be hard for some people to accept. What you are saying really resonates, because our sense of agency today is a lot about doing, about acting, about solving something. But there may be some things that we are overlooking, so the concept of not-doing may be very important and perhaps as effective. Accepting what is, is accepting complexity and not knowing. But that’s hard for us to realize because the world is scrambling, we are in a crisis, we feel we need to act in order to “save the world”. Acceptance then comes across as passive, contradicting our sense of urgency. So how do you approach this? When people say to you: “No, we have to act!”. How do you channel that active energy and at the same time say, “Look, if we go too fast, we might be making the same mistakes we made in the past”?
Laureline: What is striking is that there may be even more agency in not doing than in doing. In our western societies, doing seems to be part habit, part addiction. Choosing to pause and go one’s own way is a powerful statement. And it’s painfully hard — not only money-wise.
It takes massive courage not to act and then to feel terrified when realizing all that we could do or not do as human beings on this planet.
Besides, pausing seems to be the only way to act again from a more grounded place and to the best of our own abilities. Personally, I have been through phases when I was working with absolute frenzy for 20 hours a day because climate change is the crisis of our time and we need to get things going…
Loes: I know I’ve seen you…
Laureline: True, you were in Korea last year… But there were other times when I just took the risk of dropping everything, not knowing where it would take me. Inaction fuels creativity and bolder actions for me. But obviously, everyone is different: not all people need year-long breaks. And when I was still, I always took comfort in the fact that my carbon footprint was going down and that I had more time with those close to me, including in nature. That was concrete.
Loes: Yes, that’s interesting and reminds me of a quote by Riel Miller: “the quality of the compost we become is our only real legacy.” So instead of spending 20 hours a day in the office writing all these papers and proposals, we can ask ourselves: is this meaningful? What am I doing this for? Isn’t it much more impactful if I slow down and realize what it is that I’m doing? Because no matter the decisions we are making now “for the future,” ultimately we have no idea what future generations will choose to care about.
And while being so busy making decisions for the future, we forget to live according to our own principles today.
Yet, this can feel contradictory: in the beginning of the coronavirus outbreak I would see messages of people sending love on social media that would irritate me. As in: here we are, in a struggle, concerned, anxious, we’re fearful and we’re worried for our friends and our loved ones…Refugee camps are in great danger, people are suffering. To me, sending love didn’t seem to be the most productive message at that moment. But I came to realize that it is much more impactful than being anxious and fearful for the fate of the world.
It is about modeling that kind of attitude, saying: “I am in that liminal space and I am ok with it.” Beaming with love in those difficult times because to you that’s the right thing to do: being with your kids, taking care of yourself. It’s hard for people to accept that passive attitude, to have mercy for yourself to accept that love, that you deserve it.
Laureline: I can totally relate. I remember waking up in fear one morning, coming across the piece I had written about going beyond fear and opening up to happiness in the time of coronavirus, and thinking: what the hell have I written? I am just going to come across as having no sensitivity at all, and people are going to say “does she not realize that many of us are struggling out there, and that it is going to get worse for everyone?”. And that’s what we think when we are in that dreadful state of fear, in other words, when we resist what we cannot control within and around us, using everything we have, including projections of what the outside world will think or say.
The idea of going “beyond fear” is to access a space where we can both feel fear and embrace ‘what is’ with joy, while making the most of both, literally.
It’s a place of unconditional love for oneself and the world, as I feel it. And yes, it can be unnerving when someone is in that space shamelessly when heavy emotions overpower us, preventing us from seeing it as a different way to be in the moment, although it is actually accessible to all of us, at all times.
Loes: So do you think we also need to become more resilient towards our own demons, particularly in these times, when it can be a challenge to stay open as well to different opinions and worldviews? To become resilient to our own anxieties, or fear or our own resentment? It’s so easy to misinterpret communication, to respond right away. Instead we could try to slow down, and use these opportunities to reflect: How do I respond to this? Why do I have to get into action mode? The idea of doing versus not doing can be applied on a bigger scale and to interpersonal relationships. We can slow down and ask ourselves, what is it about this that I find so difficult? What is it about this whatsapp message or tweet that triggers me so much? I think it’s also very important in how we respond to this crisis and how we behave ourselves. To constantly find mercy and compassion, that is resilience too, right?
Laureline: Oh definitely. If we don’t have mercy and compassion when we practice acceptance, then we’ll be in judgement very fast, bashing ourselves, politicians, multinational companies, the older generations,… bashing basically everyone, although de facto nobody really knows what they are doing. We are all doing our best from our own perspective, and we always have opportunities to learn together. Mercy and compassion make acceptance livable, and enable us to open spaces for creating new relationships or projects with virtually anyone.
Loes: Right. And that brings us back to emergence as well. If something emerges and it’s an unpleasant surprise, it reveals something about the assumptions that come from very deeply rooted beliefs, stories, myths… There is so much judgement in there too. We are so often assuming that people think in similar ways. We know intellectually that is not true, yet we find it difficult to accept. So we need to see changes as neither good nor bad but just as an emerging phenomenon. The universe is complex, it does different things, why would that be a surprise? Why would things go the way we think or desire?
As you mentioned in your experience with fighting against climate change: we think we can steer the future, mold it, predict it. However,
When disruptive events emerge, it’s really about finding compassion, mercy and acceptance, and ultimately becoming resilient instead of resentful.
And that’s not easy, especially in extremely uncertain times like those we are in now. It is often a struggle, just to stay in the moment and take it as it comes. What I also realized is that I so often mistake anticipatory joy for happiness. I mistake anticipatory anxiety for depression or anticipatory grief for unhappiness and all those times, I’m not actually there in the moment. And this taught me a lot about how I usually go about my life. This remains a challenge though.
Laureline: What strikes me in what you are saying is how little our current world culture prepares us for the hard times in life. I suppose it is the realm of religion for many people still today. Others go to therapy. But if we don’t have either, nothing is taught in school, for instance, about how to go through tough times. The coronavirus crisis is a good example of how our generation seems to approach stress and loss collectively: it’s largely about going through the crisis, keeping it up, continuing to work, entertaining ourselves, and waiting for better times to come. But what if the times at the end of the tunnel are no better than the times we are living in now? What if the decades ahead never compare with the ones we had before in terms of economic opportunities? How will we cope if the progressive narrative no longer holds true?
And if you’re now wondering how that idea could possibly lift anybody up if we are already struggling, here is the catch.
This is the best time ever to start building resilience to WHATEVER emerges, and open to new worlds of opportunities.
As discussed, this first means accepting where we are as individuals, including asking questions such as: how do I react to uncertainty? how do I react to fear? how prepared am I to chaotic times at both emotional and mental levels? The great thing with this crisis is that we have experienced our reactions in our bodies, so we can give honest answers to those questions. We can then open an inner reflection on the weak points identified, which will point to the capabilities or skills that may need to be acquired or strengthened, and the resources that are available today to do so. Building one’s resilience is a highly personal and unpredictable journey, which can include meditation, sports, artistic practices, time in nature, therapy, dialogue groups, (online) training sessions… And if some people finish their introspection thinking, “Actually I feel quite resilient already”, then it’s fabulous: it means lots of knowledge, skills, and good vibes to support others, and to imagine the transformation or regeneration of the world we live in.
Loes: Right. Because we are in crisis mode, we respond to crisis with a crisis approach. So if we’re part of a “crisis team” we might want to give it a different name. Call it a transformation team, or a transition team. Reframe the narrative, because a lot of decisions are being pushed and accepted in the name of crises. People want strong leadership, authoritarian leadership, war time discourses are popular. So do we have the courage to change the narrative? Do we have the courage to look at our language? Do we have the courage not to accept the false choice between public health and the economy?
Do we have the courage to imagine futures that go beyond the scenarios that are given to us?
For example: how could we give shape to a resilient economy? So I would like to invite us and others to be in that space, to find the courage to not do in an alert way, and have the courage to imagine different futures and hence create different narratives.
Laureline: It’s funny because you are talking about a popular desire for “strong leadership” in a time of crisis. But I was thinking: are leaders really being strong when responding to a crisis by ever more control and fear mongering? Usually resorting to force means a loss of power. Strong leaders do not need to resort to force: their words feel so true, clear and compelling that people just have to follow them. And I fully agree with you, if we think about strong leadership and courage today, it is about coming up with new narratives, values, and ways of living and being with one another that would resonate so well that we would not need force to make them happen on a large scale. We would not need control systems as they are in place today.
Loes: This is the key I think. We tend to accept “official” narratives because we are suffering from “the poverty of imagination.” The current narratives are determined by so many factors in society: how we were brought up, where we come from, our bedtime stories and our history books. And the gaps in our imaginations are filled by tech companies and Elon Musk, by sci-fi… By imagining different futures we become less dependent on existing narratives, existing power structures. I personally find it very empowering and believe it can make us resilient.
Laureline: So true. And what I also find very empowering is not to ever settle for one fixed narrative. In the past, I used to be stuck in the dichotomy between “we are going to solve the climate crisis” and “we’re screwed, it’s all going to collapse anyway,” and I used to switch from one view to the other over the years. And it’s a poverty of imagination because I was always in this oscillation till I acknowledged that I have no idea, we have no idea. I had to come to terms with the fact that I cannot know the future, no matter how much I read, so I cannot determine my actions on the basis of whether or not we’re going to make it. I had to find a way to act no matter what. And then it opened up a whole new space for relating to the future and for being so much more creative in the present. It takes some strength just to be open about the fact that we have no idea and that it’s a good thing: it means more freedom to imagine and create. Although it should be so obvious:
Everybody should have the ability to say with full strength and confidence: “Of course we don’t know”. “Did we really think we could know?”
Loes: Oh, but we often think we do or believe there are no other options. For instance, I work at a university and our first response during this crisis was to move all education online so students won’t get behind. Great. Now the question arises: what happens next? Do we bounce back to normal, or do we bounce forward? As if those were the only two options but of course that is not the case. There is a tremendous learning opportunity being in this crisis, for students to reflect on what it means for their values, their future, their identity. There is an opportunity here to learn by not doing, not moving and being in this scenario. To reject the false choice between digital education or not, while there are so many more elements to explore. This is the poverty of imagination. Accepting that those are the options can paralyse us with fear and force us to make poorly informed decisions.
Laureline: You’re right, and as a result we would completely miss the opportunity offered by this crisis to expand our minds and re-think our actions in this natural world we are part of. We could for instance use digital education platforms to shift the way we approach learning by offering tools and methods for self-literacy, eco-literacy and futures literacy — all of which nudge people out of their academic comfort zones and into a continuous questioning, in dialogue with the world. I am glad we will soon be testing this approach to building resilience by welcoming emergence and growing one’s own imagination with a larger group of people through an online course. All the ideas we shared here are likely to remain quite abstract unless they are experienced, don’t you think?
Loes: Yes. I am curious to see what will emerge…