I was
surprised to discover that in the last decade economics has become
increasingly interesting to me as a social change agent.
My
surprise is not so much that economics should have a seat at the table
when discussing the elements of sustainable culture—that made eminent
sense to me right away. The shock is that I might be sitting at
the table, helping to articulate the economic elements of the better
world we're all aspiring to manifest. I never saw it coming.
Today's
offering is a collection of 10 interestingly-shaped pieces of the
economic puzzle. While I cannot promise that they can be assembled into a
compete picture they suggest a different relationship to economics. See
what you think.
1. The Big Canvas
For
more than half my life I've identified cooperative culture as my lode
star. As someone who wants to make a positive difference in the world, I
screen all of my work through the fundamental question, Is this in service to building a more cooperative world? Mostly I've devoted myself to pursuing this through promoting and understanding community, and how individuals relate to it.
That's
a plenty large enough field to play in, and there's no danger of
running out of meaningful work. For decades it was compelling to focus
strictly on how people functioned in a community context. Where did they
fall into the ditch, what skills were essential to getting out of the
ditch, how to work conflict constructively, how to balance "I" and "we,"
how to work non-rationally—stuff like that was my milieu and the bulk
of my consulting work has fallen within those lines of inquiry. I've
even been around long enough to help shape what the questions are.
Gradually,
however, I became aware of larger questions. In particular, what is
right relationship between social interactions (the heart of community)
and resource consumption (ecology) and how we make a living (economics)?
What does an integrated package of sustainability look like?
As
I became aware of the three-legged stool of sustainability—ecological
social, and economic—it was immediately apparent that all three legs
were not equally robust. The ecological thrust has been most prominent
(the first Earth Day was 46 years ago, and I can even recall a
conversation with my high school science teacher in the late '60s about
the pros and cons of a new text book that approached biology through an
ecological overview—a radical concept at the time). For many today,
sustainability is tantamount to ecology. The first and only images they
hold are of solar panels, spotted owls, and recycling barrels.
In
recent decades though, there has been quite a bit of progress made in
bringing into wider awareness my leg of the stool: social
sustainability. I've invested heavily in understanding the nuts and
bolts of cooperation. I've learned how it breaks down and how it can be
salvaged or repaired. I've traveled all across the continent offering
everything from workshops in cooperative theory to mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation. Satisfyingly, over the span of my professional lifetime
I've witnessed a decided uptick in awareness of social sustainability.
That
brings us to the poor stepchild that is the third leg: economics. It's
the one that's least written about and least well understood. In
contemplating this, I believe a huge factor is that the progressive
elements most inspired by a sustainable future have a marked tendency to
suffer from arrested development. In particular, they have not gotten
past the biblical admonition that "money is the root of all evil."
Sustainable
economics necessarily requires one to get comfortable with the concept
of fair exchange, but it's damn hard to navigate that territory if you
find money—the primary medium of exchange—to be inherently grubby and
soul crushing. To be clear, I'm not offering paeans to money; I'm saying
it is what we make of it, and it's not going to work if all economic
exchange is smeared with the oleaginous face cream of prostitution and
exploitation.
2. The Big Canvass
Terry O'Keefe and I are going to be delivering a workshop at next May's National Cohousing Conference
(May 19-21 in Nashville TN) entitled "Community as Economic Engine." In
preparation for it we're working with the Coho Association of the US on
an economic survey.
We'll
be finding out how many communities currently partner with their
members to enhance their economic situation. Overwhelmingly,
non-income-sharing groups (about 90% of the total) wash their hands when
it comes to helping members meet their economic nut. Terry and I think
they can—and should—do better. In addition to banging the drum, we'll
roll up our sleeves and suggest ways to do it.
3. Carrier as Belwether
Last
week President-elect Trump did some serious jawboning with Carrier, the
huge HVAC company in Indiana. They were poised to close down gas
furnace manufacturing operations in Indianapolis and move nearly 1000
jobs to Monterrey, Mexico, where Carrier could pay workers $3/hour
instead of $25/hour—realizing a neat $65 million in annual savings. It
would have been a no brainer except for the fact that Trump had made a
big deal out how he was going to put a stop to this very
thing—outsourcing US jobs to foreign countries.
Given
that Indiana is a very red state (and the home of Vice President-elect
Pence), Carrier's proposed move would have left a very red
President-elect (take your pick between embarrassed or angry, though the
latter seems easier to access from what I've seen).
In
the end, Trump succeeded in getting Carrier to rescind their move. But
what really happened? No new jobs were created; rather, Indiana Governor
Pence saved jobs (in his state) by offering Carrier unspecified "major
concessions" that compensated them enough to forego their putative labor
savings. And it does not take an MBA from Wharton to connect the dots
between this deal and the sensitivity of United Technologies (Carrier's
parent company) to retaining its favorable position at the trough
regarding lucrative contracts for jet engines and other defense-related
equipment.
Because
Carrier has annual gross profits of $4 billion, the Mexico move only
represented a gain of 1.6%, which they were willing to put on the table
in exchange for concessions and public relations credit (it's
interesting to speculate on what value Carrier assigns to not being in Trump's cross hairs).
When
the smoke clears what have we got? We can be sure that Carrier
protected its primary mission: making money for its shareholders. And
Trump came through on a campaign promise to stop outsourcing. But what
does protectivism have to do with "making America great again"? Are
manufacturing start-ups now more likely to site plants in Indiana than
Mexico? I don't think so. How long will it be before another major
company gets the bright idea to announce plans to move operations out of
country, trolling for another round of "major concessions" because
Trump needs to avoid the embarrassment of failing to keep an uneconomic
campaign promise?
Trump
held up the hands of time for 1000 jobs in America's heartland, but it
is hardly a blueprint for a robust economy. Progressives need to stop
ceding economic territory to an energetic vampire like Trump.
4. Intersection of Economic and Social
In
our efforts to articulate a better world (not just complain about the
injustices of the one we've got) little attention has been focused on
how the social and economic can, and should, be allies. Fortunately,
there is considerable overlap between the two. The skills needed to
resolve differences creatively in consensus are essentially the same
ones needed to sort out thorny issues in economic diversity.
We
need to be doing a better job of integrating the various parts of our
lives into a cohesive whole, not straining the seams. Suppose you have a
dream job in the city that pays top dollar, coupled with an idyllic
house in the burbs with a great school for your kids—but there's just
one problem: these two gems are interconnected by a brutal,
bumper-to-bumper 90-minute commute twice a day, five days a week. How
integrated is that (and how's your blood pressure these days)?
5. Intersection of Work and Value
When people complain about their struggles to find work, I've learned that what they really mean is their struggles to find good
work. And "good," I've learned, distills down to values match. Though
salary, flex-time, security, benefits, and a boss who respects you all
come into the conversation, the bottom line is whether the inherent
nature of the work—the actual good or service produced—is consonant with
what you value in life.
Thus,
the fundamental economic challenge can be boiled down to this: how can I
be paid a decent wage for doing work that I believe in? Once you
understand this, life becomes simpler. Yes, it's more difficult if you
are risk averse and non-entrepreneurial (because it can be too scary to
try living on less income in order to have a better values match, and
there are fewer options if you have to depend on others to create a job
that will work for you) but everyone has choices.
We
are not raised to think this way. For that matter, we are not raised to
contemplate what are values are, much less how to assess job
opportunities for a match with them. Instead, we are taught to
prioritize income and marketable skills, and then use the money to buy
what we want. The model we are offered is that if each person maximizes
their potential (makes as much money as possible) all boats will rise on
the flood. But that's way too simplistic. Income in a vacuum is too
often vacuous (read spirit killing, which can be very expensive).
To
be fair, jobs are available in a spectrum; not just sorted into
categories of good and evil. And there can be a world of difference
between jobs that are value-neutral (perhaps domestic cleaning) and
those that are value-negative (say, marketing inferior products). The
power in this analysis is appreciating the full value of a good
match—where work is life affirming, rather than a necessary evil that
allows you to pay the rent and buy groceries. Once you taste work that
is value-aligned it spoils you for settling again for something less.
When your heart is in it, it doesn't feel like "work." Your battery
doesn't drain as fast. You recover more quickly and you're a joy to be
around. It's addictive (in a good way).
6. Disassociation of Money from Security
One
of the biggest lessons I learned from community living was how to get a
better handle on the concept of security. As a young adult I didn't
think much about it. I focused more on opportunity and how to be a
positive influence in the world. In an effort to recapitulate the
combination of stimulation and support that I experienced in dormitory
living as an undergraduate (at Carleton College, 1967-71), I stumbled
onto community living at age 24 and never looked back.
When,
through a combination of intimate misadventures, I would up leaving
intentional community 40 years later, I looked up and discovered that a
lifetime of being economically generative had left me with very little
money in the bank. I had been living in income-sharing situations since
1974 and had not been accumulating anything in my name. While I was
safely under the economic umbrella of partnerships (first my intentional
community, Sandhill Farm, and later my marriage) I lost that protection when those associations ended.
My
initial response was to simply go out and make more money. While that
started off well, my vulnerability caught up with me when I got sick
last winter and discovered I had cancer. While my bank account was
starting to swell, I hadn't gotten very far before work was derailed and
I was facing horrific medical bills—a complete financial reversal.
Fortunately I was already on Medicare and had purchased a strong
supplemental policy that provided a substantial cushion.
For
all of that however, I was still financially exposed and completely
without the protection of my prior partnerships. As someone who had been
active in the Communities Movement, I had been writing and presenting
for years about the advantages of group living, especially if you
redefined security in terms of relationships rather than bank accounts.
Well, my cancer inadvertently afforded me the occasion to field test
that theory.
Perhaps
the most humbling experience of my life was the unabashed outpouring of
love and support I received once word got out about my battle with
cancer. I was completely bathed in caring energy—even from people I
didn't know but whose lives had been touched by a workshop I once gave. This,
I came to appreciate at a visceral level, was what it meant to redefine
security in terms of relationships. No amount of money in the bank
could substitute for what that meant to me, or the role it played in my
being able to push the cancer into remission. It has been a team effort.
The
cherry on top was that when I put out a discrete call for help with
medical bills (through this blog last July), 30 friends responded and
the gap was closed. Yes, money made a difference. But that was the
medium; friends and relationships were the foundation.
If
you are able to make this transition, it is incredibly freeing when it
comes to how you budget. You need less income when you are not salting
it away against a rainy day. If you can afford to work for less it
widens the horizon in your search for work with an excellent values
match. Depending on your circumstances you can even consider volunteer
work. This is a quality of life issue, where bedrock is happiness.
7. Marriage of Entrepreneur and Non-entrepreneur
Although
it took me about three decades to see this, it's useful to absorb the
following reality about a typical cooperative group: in almost all cases
there will be a significant minority of members who identify as
entrepreneurial, and a clear majority who identify as not. This is an
important insight because the profiles of these two groups don't align
easily.
Entrepreneurs
are risk tolerant and tend to not depend on the approbation of others
to feel good about themselves. They are comfortable in their own company
and tend to prefer low structure (read minimal red tape).
The
majority are the reverse, and one of the main challenges achieving
group health is figuring out how these two disparate groups can play
well with one another. It can be a bitch.
To
add to the joy, community founders, almost by definition, tend to be
entrepreneurial as pioneers. It takes a certain kind of craziness and
audacity to envision a successful intentional community—much less
attempt one—and no small amount of chutzpah to pull it off. That said,
once a community is established it depends on a steady diet of settlers
joining the experiment in order to sustain it, and settler qualities
tend to be non-entrepreneurial. Talk about fun. (Did anyone promise that
community was easy?)
Why
hasn't more attention been given to this? Both are always going to
exist and we need models for how they can be allies instead of
irritants.
8. Integration of Entrepreneur and Community
Another
angle on this same dynamic has to do with how the group relates to its
risk-takers. Ironically, even though intentional communities are radical
social experiments, they tend to be obsessed with their own stability,
which leads to the development of a generally conservative
atmosphere—not so much regarding politics as internal experimentation.
The
upshot of this is that groups tend to view their entrepreneurs with a
jaundiced eye (while we love them as our very own, we wish they wouldn't
come up with so many boat-rocking ideas). Precious few communities have
directly addressed this issue—perhaps because they don't understand
that it's happening; perhaps because they're afraid it will lead to a
witch hunt.
As
we know, however, that we resist persists. By failing to tackle the
issue of risk management head on, the result is that it's decided in the
trenches. Entrepreneurs adapt by either conducting end runs (under the
theory that it's easier to get forgiven than to get permission) or by
taking their energy elsewhere.
9. Difference Between a Good Idea and a Good Business
A
lot of folks fail to understand that having good product sense is not
the same as having good business sense. While having a superior product
or service is a definite advantage, it doesn't guarantee black ink at
the end of the year. The business world is full of cautionary tales
about how the better product lost because it was outmarketed (think Beta
versus VHS; or FireWire versus USB).
To
what extent are cooperative groups helping their members with business
advice? Answer: not nearly enough. This problem needs to be worked from
both ends. Entrepreneurs need to swallow their pride and ask for help
(what do you mean it doesn't count if you get assistance?); cooperative
groups need to get over thinking that helping to develop values-based
business plans as contamination with filthy lucre (who, after all, is
pure in this vale of tears?). The point of this is to help everyone.
Not only will the entrepreneurs be rewarded, but as their businesses
succeed they'll be better able to employ non-entrepreneurs, who want
good jobs.
10. Local Answers not Federal
Circling
back to my third point about Carrier, I believe that economics—just
like politics—start at home; not with government subsidies. While
markets can be as wide as make sense (and with today's information-based
products that can be as far as broadband ethernet can reach, which is
just about everywhere), the foundation of right exchange is local.
Instead of doing everything myself (or doing without), I trade to you
what I'm good at or have in surplus and get in exchange something that
you're better at than I or can afford to share. If we both give good
value we're in integrity and both of our lives have been enhanced.
Everyone sleeps well at night. It's that simple.
Small
towns die when they lose their economic base. When local stores are
franchises and not locally owned (think Walmart), profits are siphoned
off to out-of-town shareholders and wages drop to legal minimums. People
are no longer working for Uncle Fred, Grandma Gutierrez, or Ole
Johansson—all of whom care about whether your daughter is sick or your
dog just had triplets; they're working for Lord Farquaad or his moral
equivalent. The good news is that this trend can be reversed. Buy
locally. Give a damn.
If
the viability of our businesses was rooted in our home
communities—instead of leveraged off of investment tax credits and
accelerated depreciation allowances—we'd be inflation proof and wouldn't
give a hoot what the wage rate was in Guadalajara.
It's something to think about.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Musings About Economics
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Crisis in Cooperative Leadership
In the past year I had the opportunity to attend an intentional community retreat where the group started off with half a day of check-ins, going slowly around the circle giving everyone four minutes to share how the last year had been for them. As the group had a population north of 50 (in quantity, not age), there was a lot to absorb.
When listening to close friends, I pretty much already knew what they were going to say, but there was a lot of filling in the blanks when the speaker was someone whose life was not so familiar to me. As an emotional snapshot of the community it provided a valuable once-a-year glimpse of the whole. As might be expected, the gamut was large—everything from outright misery to bubbling over with joy.
But the thing that stood out most for me, as an experienced observer of cooperative group dynamics, was that the people filling leadership roles were overwhelmingly reporting overwhelm. Uh oh.
While this manifested differently for different leaders, there were themes:
—Feeling inadequate in the role
A number of people agreed to take on a leadership position as part of a team and then felt swamped by the volume and intensity of the workload. Recognizing that they weren't pulling their weight, they felt guilt and shame. There was also some deer-in-the-headlights dynamics where the people in over their heads reported a tendency to go stupid in team meetings (which didn't encourage them to do it more).
—Trying to keep too many balls in the air
Some leaders seemed fine with individual roles; there were just too many of them and they were falling behind. While the people in this category mostly knew that they were overfilling their plate at the time they said "yes," they did it anyway because they were asked and felt a strong sense of civic duty. This phenomenon is not so much about a person feeling that they alone can fill a role well, as that someone needs to step forward and their agreeing to it eases pressure on others. (The poignancy in this is that it's an example of caring for the group in a way that undercuts self care—read not sustainable.)
—Accepting roles that are needed but not enjoyable because no one else will do them
While similar to the previous point, in this dynamic the person knows going in that the work will be a slog—not because of an oversubscribed dance card, but because the work itself isn't that appealing. This is taking a hit for the team, generally to avoid: a) hiring outside (both to save money and because of the perception that an inside person will better understand group culture, group politics, and interpersonal nuance); b) asking someone else (who is either less willing or less able) to do it instead; or c) doing without.
While playing the Little Dutch Boy can be a form of heroism, it can also lead to martyrdom (not to mention dyspepsia).
—Reporting tension because of a personal investment in the way things are done
One of the things that upped the ante in this particular group was the fact that it had been working hard in recent years to figure out a better way to make decisions and had invested a lot of time in a new organizational structure. Not surprisingly, everything didn't run like a gazelle right out of the gate and the architects of the new system reported anxiety about shortcomings after all that investment. Kind of like watching your teenage prodigy double fault on her opening serve at Wimbledon after all those years of tennis lessons.
—Anguishing over the schizophrenia of being in authority over peers
Even when the group is crystal clear that it wants to delegate responsibility to individuals to manage certain functions in service to the group—to the point of hiring them to do the job—that doesn't mean that everyone will relate to this role in the same way. The ambiguity is not so much about unclear job descriptions as it is about some people resisting being overseen (I don't need you looking over my shoulder or asking a bunch of nuisance questions) while others were embracing it fully (Just tell me what to do). In addition to the trickiness of navigating such mixed signals, some managers were additionally reporting that other members were simply not responding to their inquiries—all of which added up to managers feeling exposed and unsupported. Oy vey.
The good news is that it's consistently in our sights. The bad news is that it's not yet consistently in our homes.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Unsettled Forecast: The Cohousing Movement in a Soft Housing Market
I'm just done with four days at the national Cohousing Conference in Waltham MA, and it seems appropriate to reflect on what's happening with that dynamic segment of the Communities Movement.
While the number of attendees at the conference was about 2/3rds of the what the organizers were hoping for (280 instead of 400+), the energy was excellent and the venue (Bentley College) worked pretty well. Although Coho/US has never before held national conferences in successive years, next year they'll test the waters: June 25-28, 2009 on the campus of the University of Washington in Seattle.
Here are three miscellaneous reflections on trends:
Changing of the Guard
I noticed that a lot of familiar cohousing faces were not in Boston. In no particular order, all of the following were not with us: Kathryn Lorenz, James Hamilton, Nick Meima, Michael McIntyre, Barbara Lynch, David Ergo, Rob Sandelin, Sherri Rosenthal, Tom & Carol Braford, Annie Russell, David Wann, Shari Leach, Neshama Abraham, Tree Bressen. (What's more, I'm sure I'm forgetting others who deserve mention; these are just the ones I can name in one sitting.)
While nothing lasts forever, and a certain amount of turnover is healthy, the above list represents an enormous amount of cohousing experience that was doing something else last weekend. I used to know everyone on the Board of Coho/US and now I don't. We'll see where it leads.
Uncertain Future
Over the course of the weekend I had the chance to ask several heavy hitters their sense of the cohousing market. The answers varied widely. One reported that his company had gotten no cohousing business at all the last two years and was in the process of reinventing itself focusing on New Urbanism and Green Neighborhoods. Another reported that he had more business than he could get to. A third said she was getting steady calls, yet mostly it was for offers to develop projects in locations too far away for them to be interested in traveling to.
Overall, I got the sense that there was still significant business out there (a continuing flow of new starts and forming groups), yet the rate of growth was slowing and there were definitely some parts of the country badly affected by the slumping housing market.
Many developers and other cohousing professionals offer an overlapping array of services. Because few can offer a group everything, there is a compelling need for professionals to collaborate in meeting client needs. All the more so in that the core of what they're all selling is community and that's based on a root commitment to cooperation. However, not everyone is equally good at everything they do (it's hard to recommend someone if you're not confident they'll be able to deliver to the standard of quality you set for yourself) and it can be hard to keep up with what everyone is offering. In consequence, there is not the easy flow among professionals as might be hoped for, and in a soft market there can be increasing tensions around everyone getting all the work they'd like.
It's my sense that there is still plenty of work for those with the most established reputations, yet it may be a difficult time for new people to break into the field. We'll see.
Greener and Bigger
The largest buzz at the conference was around sustainability and an intelligent response to the challenge of upward spiraling gas prices. Chris ScottHanson was especially excited about how Jamaica Plain Cohousing (completed in 2005) has been able to reduce its total car ownership by 2/3rds (less than one per unit) by the sharing achievable with community living, and by building on a site that's within easy walking distance of the subway line. They have empty parking spaces which they're now thinking of tearing up and converting to garden and food production.
Chris, Jim Leach, and Zev Paiss were all talking about ratcheting up their businesses to aim at sustainable neighborhood development—especially in urban areas—and not just cohousing projects. There are several pieces to this puzzle. In addition to carbon-neutral construction, they're thinking about what can be done to create vibrant urban lifestyles that are not car dependent. It's exciting stuff. Next year, I'll get to check in on how all this is unfolding.
Labels: cohousing, Communities Movement, JP Cohousing, sustainability
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Outbound
Tomorrow I head out on the start of a road trip that will last 5+ weeks. I am now "x-departure," which means I'm within 24 hours of leaving and fully focused on prepping for the trip and wrapping up as many loosed ends as possible. I'm trying to squeeze the last bit of advantage out of my resources at home (like access to files and a printer) that I'm about to do without.
I'm on the road half the time, which means I get a lot of practice at prepping for trips. Over the years I've developed routines to help make sure the right things get in the car. I have a particular location in my bedroom where I store items that need to go on the next trip (and a place where I put notes to myself about what to bring, which I review assiduously once I'm x-departure).
I love traveling. I almost always go by train (when Amtrak will get me reasonably close to my destination) or car (when Amtrak can't get the job done or I have a lot to schlepp), and that means I get to see the country, which varies incredibly by region and season. It also protects time for reflection (which I otherwise tend to give away in my busy life), allowing me to let go of what I was just doing and get ready psychically for what's coming up next.
I also love what I do when I travel. Excepting a normal amount of vacation time, most of my trips are for FIC business or process consulting (or both), with the occasional visits with friends and relatives who live near where I have business. While a 5-week trip is on the long side of normal, my itinerary this time is a fairly typical choreography, with a little of everything:
o Jan 16—make sorghum deliveries in St Louis & visit Ella Peregrine in Louisville
o Jan 17-20—process consulting with Shannon Farm in Afton VA
o Jan 21-24—visit ex-Sandhill member Ann Shrader, and Velma Kahn in Floyd County VA
o Jan 25-27—process consulting in Asheville NC
o Jan 28-30—visit with my daughter Jo, Susan Patrice, Terry O'Keefe, and Jess Mund
o Jan 31—present at East Lake Commons Cohousing in Atlanta
o Feb 1—meet with Phil & Doug at Village Media in Summertown TN
o Feb 2-3—FIC Oversight Cmtee meetings at Dunmire Hollow
o Feb 4—turn in my car at home and board the Southwest Chief for Albuquerque
o Feb 5—arrive in Albuquerque
o Feb 6—celebrate with my wife—Ma'ikwe—her 38th birthday
o Feb 7-17—prep for and deliver instruction as part of the faculty for the economic segment of the Ecovillage Design Education course
o Feb 18—date with Marjorie Wholey & Steve Polson
o Feb 19-21—visit my son Ceilee and his gravid wife Tosca (my first grandchild!) in Las Vegas
o Feb 22—take the choo-choo home
What's not to like?
The down side of this lifestyle is that I'm away from home too much. While I love what I do when I travel and understand why it's important that I do it, I miss the connections of home (both people and place) and suffer from the arrhythmia associated with having one's heart beating in so many disconnected places.
There is irony about being devoted to community, yet spending so much time with others talking about it, rather than at home living it. Still, I think the Communities Movement is better served by having administrators who live the life they promote, rather than relying on full-time professionals who used to live in community, or worse, have only visited or read about them. It needs to be alive in your belly. Community as a practice, not just a story.
So, for the next five weeks, I'll be composing posts about what duplicate bridge columnist Zeke Jabbour styles "Tales of the Trail." Stay tuned.
