Category: Book

  • Integrating the Transition

    Integrating the Transition

    How do we get from the world we have today to a world where everyone has access to what they need, where humanity lives in harmony with nature, and where money, debt, and ownership no longer determine the possibilities of human life?

    This may be the most important question of all.

    It is one thing to imagine a world without money, poverty, involuntary unemployment, economic exploitation, or the constant struggle to make ends meet. It is quite another to understand how humanity might actually get there.

    For years, I have envisioned a resource-based civilization in which humanity manages Earth’s resources through cooperation, stewardship, and what I call the Natural Exchange System (NES).

    In my novel Waking Up, I describe what such a civilization might look and feel like about a century from now. It is told as a story about a contemporary man who wakes up in that world and we experience the world through his eyes.

    But a vision of the destination is not the same as a road to get there.

    And perhaps the road is not nearly as complicated as it first appears.

    Perhaps humanity does not have to abandon the existing system before beginning to build something better.

    Perhaps the new civilization can gradually grow within the old one, until the old system simply becomes unnecessary.

    Integrating the Future into the Present

    One of the greatest obstacles to fundamental social change is that people are accustomed to the systems in which they live.

    Money, employment, private ownership, markets, and competition are so deeply embedded in everyday life that imagining anything else can feel almost impossible.

    Even someone who intellectually understands the possibilities of a resource-based economy may struggle to imagine actually living in one.

    How would people contribute? How would resources be distributed? Who would maintain the infrastructure? What would happen to their homes? And how could anyone trust a system without financial obligations?

    These are reasonable questions.

    And perhaps the best way to answer them is not through arguments alone, but through experience.

    This is where I find Peter Joseph’s Integral initiative particularly interesting.

    Integral explores ways of organizing practical cooperation and access to resources within the monetary world that already exists. Contribution-based arrangements, including time-credit approaches, offer one possible bridge between familiar exchange and a different way of living.

    Instead of exchanging labor exclusively for money, people can begin contributing their time and abilities to a cooperative network and receiving access to resources and services in return.

    It is still a form of exchange. Contributions are recognized, and some form of accounting may remain.

    But the important change has already begun.

    People are learning that cooperation does not have to be organized around profit.

    They are experiencing the benefits of sharing productive resources rather than each person having to purchase everything individually.

    And, perhaps most importantly, they are beginning to experience a different relationship with one another.

    Integral invites people to begin experiencing the future today. Waking Up invites people to imagine what that future could ultimately become. Both are equally important. 

    One helps humanity practice a different way of living.

    The other helps humanity imagine where that practice could lead.

    From Money Exchange to Natural Exchange

    The Natural Exchange System I envision goes a step further.

    NES is not another currency, credit system, or alternative method of payment.

    It is the gradual abandonment of the idea that every contribution must be balanced by an individual return.

    People contribute what they can, because their abilities are useful to others. They receive what they need, because their needs are recognized as part of a shared human reality.

    No personal account needs to be settled.

    No debt needs to be created.

    No one has to earn the right to exist.

    Nature offers an interesting analogy.

    A tree does not invoice the fungi that help supply its roots with nutrients. Pollinators do not send bills to flowers. Living systems are connected through countless relationships involving exchange, dependence, feedback, and mutual benefit.

    Of course, nature also contains competition, predation, and scarcity. Humanity cannot simply assume that everything will work harmoniously without thoughtful coordination.

    But nature demonstrates that complex systems can function without money or personal financial accounting.

    Human beings have the additional ability to understand these relationships and consciously design systems that protect both human well-being and the ecosystems upon which all life depends.

    NES would require coordination, information, planning, and responsible use of resources. It would not require every human interaction to become a transaction.

    Time credits and similar arrangements might therefore serve as useful training wheels.

    They allow people accustomed to earning and spending to begin cooperating outside conventional monetary exchange.

    And as trust, access, and shared responsibility develop, those credits might gradually become unnecessary.

    We begin by learning to exchange without money. We end by learning to live without keeping score.

    Ownership and Stewardship

    But there is another obstacle that may be even more fundamental than money.

    Ownership.

    The monetary system depends upon the ability to own, buy, sell, accumulate, and transfer claims over resources.

    Land becomes property. Housing becomes an investment. Machinery becomes capital. Even the necessities of life become commodities.

    And because access to these resources depends largely on purchasing power, people must continually earn money to secure their existence.

    In the world I envision, ownership would eventually be replaced by stewardship.

    But what does that actually mean?

    Stewardship means caring for and responsibly managing resources for their intended use and for the benefit of life, rather than treating them primarily as assets from which to extract financial wealth.

    It does not mean that everybody must share everything all the time.

    A person should still be able to enjoy a private home, personal belongings, and the freedom to live without unwanted interference.

    The distinction is between secure use and tradable ownership.

    You could live in the same home for the rest of your life without needing to own its financial value. And also not need to worry about the cost of maintenance which will be taken care of through the resource based system.

    You could use a workshop, a vehicle, or a piece of land without needing to purchase it.

    And you could enjoy the security of knowing that access to life’s necessities does not depend on your bank balance. Because there is none.

    But until recently, I saw a serious problem with this transition.

    How could humanity gradually abolish ownership while the surrounding world continued to operate through private property?

    If a piece of land suddenly became ownerless, what would prevent someone from claiming it?

    Wouldn’t the transition have to occur simultaneously throughout the world?

    Perhaps not.

    Because there is a crucial distinction between legally owning something and behaving as its steward.

    Stewardship Can Begin Before Ownership Ends

    Imagine a community workshop.

    The building, machinery, and tools are legally owned by a cooperative organization.

    But instead of operating primarily to generate profit, the workshop exists to serve the community.

    People contribute their abilities voluntarily. They repair equipment, manufacture useful products, teach skills, and maintain the facilities.

    Whatever the workshop can provide to others, it shares.

    The organization may still need money to purchase materials, pay taxes, and meet obligations outside its network.

    But within the organization, a different economic reality is already emerging.

    The same principle could apply to community gardens, food production, renewable energy installations, transportation, housing, and eventually entire industries.

    These organizations would still exist within the legal framework of ownership.

    Yet they would already be practicing stewardship.

    And this is not entirely hypothetical.

    Community land trusts, tool libraries, cooperatives, charitable organizations, and various forms of shared infrastructure already demonstrate aspects of this principle.

    They are not necessarily resource-based economies, and their structures differ considerably. But they show that resources can be legally owned by an organization while being managed primarily for shared benefit rather than private accumulation.

    Now imagine more and more organizations adopting similar principles.

    One produces food.

    Another manufactures equipment.

    Another provides transportation.

    Another develops housing.

    Another produces renewable energy.

    They begin sharing resources, knowledge, and services with one another.

    Some arrangements may initially use money. Others may use contribution credits. Still others may operate through direct, non-reciprocal sharing.

    As the network grows, its dependence on the surrounding monetary economy gradually decreases.

    And something remarkable begins to happen.

    Ownership starts losing its practical purpose, even while it continues to exist legally.

    From Ownership to Access

    Consider the development of self-driving vehicles.

    The technology began developing and entering limited practical use before every relevant law had been rewritten. Regulations have been evolving alongside real-world experience.

    Perhaps stewardship could follow a similar pattern.

    Practical reality develops first, while laws and institutions gradually adapt to it.

    Imagine a community where people have reliable access to shared vehicles whenever they need transportation.

    Why would everyone need to own a car?

    Imagine a network of workshops where people can access any tool or machine they need.

    Why would every household need to purchase its own equipment?

    Now imagine that this principle expands to food, clothing, education, healthcare, communication, energy, and housing.

    The need to purchase and own resources would gradually diminish as reliable access expanded.

    And housing is particularly important.

    Suppose a nonprofit stewardship organization manages hundreds of dwellings.

    Residents receive secure, long-term rights to their homes, including privacy and the freedom to make the place their own.

    They are not tenants in the conventional commercial sense, constantly paying for the privilege of having somewhere to live.

    Nor are they required to purchase the financial value of the building.

    They simply have a home.

    The organization coordinates maintenance, construction, and the responsible use of housing resources.

    Initially, the organization might still own the properties legally. It would also need sufficient resources to maintain them, including money wherever the surrounding economy still required payment.

    But as the stewardship network expands, more of those needs could be met through cooperation.

    Eventually, a person might have secure access to everything necessary for a fulfilling life without owning significant financial assets.

    And that changes the entire meaning of ownership.

    If everyone has secure access to everything they need, why would anyone need to own the resources that provide it?

    Ownership would no longer be necessary to guarantee security.

    Accumulation would no longer be necessary to prepare for the future.

    And inheritance would no longer be necessary to protect the next generation from poverty.

    The transition would not begin by demanding that people surrender their security.

    It would begin by creating a form of security that no longer depends upon ownership.

     Homes and Inheritance

    This distinction is essential.

    People are understandably attached to their homes.

    A home is not merely a building. It contains memories, relationships, personal history, and a sense of belonging.

    Moving from ownership to stewardship should not mean that anyone can simply enter your home or that you must surrender it to someone else.

    A stewardship society could provide secure, enforceable rights of residence, potentially for an entire lifetime.

    And what about inheritance?

    Imagine parents who have lived in a home for decades. When they die, their children may wish to continue living there.

    Why shouldn’t they?

    If the children genuinely want to use the home, they could take over its stewardship, subject to fair arrangements protecting the rights of others.

    But if they already have homes elsewhere and have no intention of living there, the dwelling could become available to someone who needs it.

    The home would no longer be treated as a financial prize to be sold, rented out, or accumulated.

    And the children would not be deprived of economic security, because their own access to housing and other necessities would already be guaranteed.

    The real inheritance is a world in which nobody needs to inherit property to be secure.

    This would not require everyone to abandon their homes or possessions overnight.

    It could begin with voluntary participation, gradually expanding as people experience the advantages of secure access without financial ownership.

    A Transition That Spreads 

    And here is where the possibilities become even more interesting.

    Perhaps the transition does not even need to happen simultaneously throughout a country, let alone the entire planet.

    Imagine a community where practically all the resources necessary for everyday life are managed through stewardship.

    The land, buildings, workshops, food production, and infrastructure are protected by shared agreements.

    People understand that these resources exist for common benefit.

    Nobody feels compelled to claim every available resource as private property.

    Think of a community garden.

    People do not necessarily rush to claim ownership of every shovel, watering can, or wheelbarrow.

    They understand that the tools are there to be used, maintained, and shared.

    Now extend that understanding to an entire neighborhood.

    Then a town.

    Then a region.

    Then a continent.

    The the Earth.

    The more people become accustomed to stewardship, the less they may feel the need to acquire exclusive financial ownership.

    Eventually, some communities might develop genuinely non-proprietary forms of stewardship, while neighboring communities continue operating through conventional ownership.

    Of course, there is an important legal distinction between resources held in common and resources that are simply abandoned.

    Under today’s property laws, declaring land or infrastructure ownerless would not necessarily protect it against appropriation.

    Communities would therefore need recognized legal arrangements, enforceable use rights, and safeguards against individuals or corporations converting shared resources back into private assets.

    But those arrangements could evolve gradually.

    The transition would no longer require the entire world to change at once.

    It could spread from community to community, as people observe, experience, and voluntarily adopt a different way of living.

    We do not have to wait for the whole world to understand stewardship before anyone can fully practice it. Understanding and stewardship can spread together.

    When an Entire Country Becomes a Stewardship Society

    Now imagine that this development eventually encompasses an entire country.

    Virtually all its land, housing, infrastructure, and productive resources are managed through stewardship.

    Money has become largely unnecessary within its communities.

    People contribute according to their abilities and receive according to their needs.

    And the country has developed sufficient coordination, production, and ecological responsibility to sustain this arrangement.

    What happens to its borders?

    A national border has historically served many purposes, including defining political jurisdiction, controlling movement, providing security, and protecting territorial sovereignty.

    But one important function of territorial control has been to determine who may exploit and benefit economically from the resources within a particular area.

    What happens when the people living there no longer regard those resources as possessions to be bought, sold, or accumulated?

    The border might still exist politically, but its economic significance could begin to diminish.

    Now imagine a neighboring country gradually adopting the same stewardship principles.

    The two populations begin coordinating their resources, infrastructure, transportation, and ecological management.

    People move and cooperate freely across the border.

    Eventually, the boundary might remain primarily as a cultural or administrative distinction.

    And as more countries join, those distinctions could become increasingly flexible.

    In Waking Up, I envision a world of what I call cultries—communities of cultural identity that are no longer dependent upon the traditional concept of territorial nation-states.

    People can preserve their languages, customs, traditions, and cultural identities without requiring exclusive ownership of particular territories.

    Perhaps the gradual spread of stewardship could provide a practical pathway toward such a world.

    Not by abolishing national borders right away, but through a global decree, but by gradually making their economic function less important.

    However, there is one enormous challenge that cannot be ignored.

    Despots and Aggression

    Imagine a peaceful stewardship society existing next door to a country ruled by an authoritarian leader who wants to conquer its territory.

    The stewardship society may have abandoned the idea of owning land.

    But its neighbor may still want to control that land—and the people living upon it.

    This exposes an essential distinction.

    Eliminating the desire to own does not automatically eliminate the desire to dominate.

    The Culture

    A peaceful society cannot simply assume that every other society has become peaceful.

    It must be capable of protecting its inhabitants, their freedoms, and the living systems upon which they depend.

    Stewardship is not merely about sharing.

    It is also about caring for and protecting what has been entrusted to our responsibility.

    This reminds me of Iain M. Banks’s Culture novels.

    The Culture is an extraordinarily advanced, largely post-scarcity civilization where money and conventional ownership have little relevance.

    Yet it is not defenseless.

    It possesses tremendous technological capabilities, and Banks explores the difficult moral questions surrounding its interactions with less cooperative civilizations.

    His fictional civilization raises an important issue: how can a society devoted to peace and freedom protect itself without becoming an oppressive power in its own right?

    For a gradually emerging stewardship civilization, this would be a practical challenge.

    During the transition, participating communities and countries might need defensive capabilities, mutual protection agreements, conflict-resolution institutions, and safeguards against the concentration of power.

    They would also need ways to distinguish legitimate protection from intervention imposed upon others.

    And there is another possibility.

    As stewardship societies become more successful, people living beyond their borders may become increasingly interested in their way of life.

    They may visit, communicate, collaborate, and participate in cooperative networks that extend across national boundaries.

    The principles of stewardship could spread through human relationships even where governments remain committed to conventional political and economic structures.

    That would not guarantee peaceful change. Some governments might resist such developments, and military aggression could remain a real danger.

    But it would allow the transition to proceed without requiring every political leader to agree in advance.

    A stewardship civilization could gradually develop the means to protect itself while continuing to offer peaceful cooperation to everyone willing to participate.

    There is an enormous difference between defending land because we believe we own it and defending the people and living systems that depend upon it.

    The first is about possession.

    The second is about protection.

    The Human Transition

    Of course, none of this can be reduced to organizations, laws, or infrastructure.

    The most important transformation must take place in human understanding.

    For generations, people have been taught to regard ownership as security, money as freedom, and competition as the natural foundation of economic life.

    These ideas are deeply embedded in habits, institutions, and expectations.

    They will not disappear merely because someone presents a different economic model.

    But experience can change what people consider normal.

    When people discover that shared tools are more convenient than purchasing their own, their relationship with those tools changes.

    When they experience cooperative food production, their relationship with food changes.

    When they discover that a secure home does not require a mortgage or a landlord, their relationship with housing changes.

    And when they experience a community in which their contribution is valued without being measured against their personal financial worth, their relationship with work may change as well.

    The more reliable access becomes, the less necessary accumulation may feel.

    And the less people feel compelled to accumulate, the easier it becomes to share.

    These two developments reinforce each other.

    The external transformation from ownership to stewardship supports the internal transformation from transactional thinking to cooperation.

    And the internal transformation makes further stewardship possible.

    This is why I believe the transition must be integrated.

    Not merely implemented through new legislation.

    Not merely explained through books or lectures.

    But integrated into our minds, hearts, habits, relationships, and everyday experiences.

    The Role of Integral and Waking Up

    This brings me back to the relationship between Peter Joseph’s Integral initiative and the vision I describe in Waking Up – A journey towards a new dawn for humanity.

    I see them as complementary contributions to the same broader possibility.

    Integral offers a way to begin developing practical cooperative systems within the world as it exists today.

    It can help people experience sharing, contribution, and access through structures that remain compatible with existing economic and legal arrangements.

    My novel Waking Up offers an imaginative vision through story of what might become possible if humanity continues along such a path.

    A world where money is no longer necessary.

    Where ownership has given way to stewardship.

    Where people enjoy secure access to the necessities and possibilities of life.

    Where human creativity is directed toward improving life rather than generating financial returns.

    And where humanity has learned to manage its relationship with the planet as a responsible participant in nature rather than its proprietor.

    Between these two perspectives lies the process of integration.

    People begin by experimenting with cooperation.

    They create organizations that share resources.

    Those organizations connect and expand.

    More needs are met without conventional monetary transactions.

    Ownership becomes less important because access becomes more reliable.

    Contribution accounting gradually becomes less necessary as Natural Exchange develops.

    Communities begin functioning through stewardship.

    Regions and countries may eventually follow.

    And legal institutions adapt as the new arrangements become established.

    There need not be a single moment when the entire world abandons ownership.

    There need not be a worldwide declaration that money has ceased to exist.

    Instead, humanity could gradually create a civilization in which neither money nor ownership serves the essential purpose it once did.

    A Peaceful Revolution 

    There is one principle that must remain fundamental throughout this process.

    The transition cannot be imposed.

    It must be inspired.

    A world built upon freedom, cooperation, and mutual respect cannot be created by forcing people to accept a particular ideology.

    People must be free to explore, question, experiment, participate, and decide for themselves.

    Some communities may adopt stewardship quickly.

    Others may take much longer.

    Some may develop arrangements that nobody has yet imagined.

    That diversity of experimentation could be one of the transition’s greatest strengths.

    And as practical examples multiply, the conversation changes.

    Instead of asking people to believe that a different civilization might be possible, it becomes possible to show them functioning examples.

    Instead of demanding that they give up ownership, it becomes possible to offer them something more useful: secure access without the burden of financial possession.

    Instead of asking humanity to make an enormous leap of faith, it becomes possible to invite people to take one practical step at a time.

    Of course, the transition would not be automatic.

    It would require dependable production, ecological limits, fair access to scarce resources, maintenance, accountability, conflict resolution, and protection against exploitation.

    And the expanding stewardship network would need to remain viable while still interacting with the monetary economy.

    But these are problems of practical organization and human cooperation.

    They are problems humanity can investigate, experiment with, and progressively solve.

    The goal is not to create a perfect society overnight.

    It is to begin creating a better one today.

    Integrating the Transition

    Perhaps the greatest mistake is to imagine that humanity must first agree upon an entirely new civilization and then somehow transform the world to match that agreement.

    Perhaps the process can work in the opposite direction.

    People begin living differently.

    They discover practical advantages.

    They develop new habits.

    They create institutions that reflect those habits.

    Those institutions grow, cooperate, and gradually transform the economic reality around them.

    And eventually, laws and political structures adapt to a world that has already changed.

    Ownership may not need to be abolished before stewardship can flourish.

    Money may not need to disappear before Natural Exchange can begin.

    National borders may not need to be removed before people can cooperate across them.

    And humanity may not need to agree upon a single global transition before the new civilization can start taking shape.

    The legal transformation may follow the practical transformation, just as laws have often evolved alongside technological and social developments.

    Perhaps, one day, people will look back at the concept of owning land, accumulating houses, or charging others for access to the necessities of life and wonder why these arrangements were ever considered indispensable.

    Not because someone convinced them that ownership was morally wrong.

    But because they have experienced a world in which it is no longer necessary.

    We do not have to change the laws of ownership before we can change the way we live. We can change the way we live until the laws of ownership no longer reflect the world we have created and are thus no longer needed.

    And perhaps the transition from today’s civilization to the one I envision in Waking Up will not be remembered as a sudden revolution at all.

    Perhaps it will be remembered as a gradual awakening.

    An evolution of understanding, cooperation, and human relationships.

    A process in which the new world grew quietly within the old one, until the old structures had gradually lost their purpose.

    Not a revolution imposed upon humanity.

    Not a transformation postponed until everyone agrees.

    But a new civilization emerging through the voluntary actions of people who have already begun to live in it.

    The transition does not have to begin when humanity abandons the old world.

    It can begin when humanity starts creating the new one.

    Discover the story

  • The Trickle-Up Economy

    The Trickle-Up Economy

    What if everything we have been told about wealth trickling down is upside down?

    For decades, we have been told that when the wealthy become wealthier, everyone eventually benefits.

    Give businesses favorable conditions, reduce taxes on the rich, encourage investment, and the wealth created at the top will gradually trickle down to the rest of society.

    This is the famous concept of trickle-down economics.

    But what if the whole metaphor is upside down?

    What if wealth doesn’t primarily trickle down, but rather trickles up?

    What if the people at the bottom of the economic pyramid are actually producing much of the wealth that accumulates at the top?

    And what if the very structure of our monetary system ensures that those doing some of the hardest work receive the smallest financial rewards?

    To understand this, we need to look at how the monetary system is organized.

    The Monetary Pyramid

    Our global monetary system resembles an enormous pyramid.

    At the top are the people and corporations controlling vast amounts of capital, resources, brands, technology, and access to global markets.

    Further down are suppliers, subcontractors, smaller businesses, and distributors.

    And at the bottom are millions upon millions of workers producing the goods and services that keep the entire system functioning.

    The people at the top depend on those below them. Without the workers, the factories, the farmers, the miners, the builders, and everyone else contributing to production, there would be very little to sell.

    Yet the financial rewards are distributed extraordinarily unequally.

    Why?

    Because the pyramid is not simply a hierarchy of work.

    It is a hierarchy of ownership.

    And ownership determines who controls the productive resources, who makes the decisions, and who receives the financial rewards.

    Every Stitch Tric​kles Up

    Consider the global garment industry.

    In countries such as Myanmar, workers spend long days sewing clothes for international brands. Their wages can be extremely low, and many depend on extensive overtime to make ends meet.

    Myanmar has legally established minimum wages, but a legal minimum wage does not necessarily provide enough income to live decently.

    Imagine a worker sitting at a sewing machine, stitching garments hour after hour, day after day.

    Every stitch contributes to a product that will eventually be sold somewhere in the world.

    The factory must cover its expenses and earn money. Suppliers and intermediaries must cover theirs. Transportation companies, distributors, retailers, and brand owners all have their financial interests.

    And ultimately, the shareholders expect their returns.

    At each stage, money must be allocated to cover costs and provide financial rewards.

    But the people sewing the garments have very little influence over how the final selling price is distributed.

    The global brand may have access to hundreds of millions of potential customers. The worker has access primarily to a local labor market, where thousands of other people may be competing for the same jobs.

    And because factories compete for contracts, the pressure to reduce production costs travels down the supply chain.

    Eventually, that pressure reaches the workers.

    Every hour they work and every stitch they sew contributes to the financial rewards flowing upward. Yet their own wages may barely cover the necessities of life.

    This is trickle-up economics in practice.

    Financial Pressure Travels Down. Financial Relief Travels Up.

    There is a fundamental asymmetry in the monetary pyramid.

    At the top, businesses seek to maximize profits, investors seek higher returns, and owners seek to increase the value of their assets.

    Further down, suppliers compete to offer lower prices.

    And at the bottom, workers are pressured to produce more, work longer, and accept wages that may be barely sufficient for survival.

    Financial pressure travels down, while financial relief travels up.

    The people at the bottom are often the least financially secure, even though their labor is indispensable to the entire production process.

    Meanwhile, those at the top can accumulate enough wealth to live comfortably without ever having to work again.

    And the more wealth they accumulate, the more opportunities they have to acquire additional assets and ownership, generating still more income.

    The pyramid becomes self-reinforcing.

    Those at the bottom work to survive.

    Those at the top may eventually no longer need to work at all.

    And much of the difference comes down to one concept.

    Ownership

    Ownership is the central mechanism behind the concentration of wealth.

    A worker can sell only a limited number of hours each day. No matter how hardworking or skilled that person becomes, there are physical limits to how much labor one individual can provide.

    An owner, however, can receive income from the combined production of thousands or even millions of people.

    Consider someone who owns shares in a multinational corporation.

    That person may never have visited the factories, met the workers, operated the machinery, or participated directly in producing a single item.

    Yet the ownership of those shares entitles that person to a portion of the company’s financial success.

    Of course, building and operating businesses requires investment, organization, innovation, and expertise. These activities contribute real value.

    But the crucial distinction remains:

    Labor is limited by the hours a person can work. Income from ownership can expand with the productive capacity of an entire global enterprise.

    And this is why the people at the top can become extraordinarily wealthy while the people doing the physical production remain poor.

    The monetary system does not necessarily reward people according to how hard they work, how much they contribute to society, or how essential their work is.

    It rewards them according to market conditions, bargaining power, and, crucially, what they own.

    Money Circulates. Ownership Accumulates.

    Now consider what happens to the money that actually reaches the bottom of the pyramid.

    A worker receives a paycheck.

    But that paycheck is not something the worker can simply accumulate.

    It must immediately be used to pay for food, housing, electricity, transportation, clothing, and other necessities.

    And where does that money go?

    Back into the economy.

    To supermarkets, landlords, utility companies, transportation providers, banks, and countless other businesses.

    Those businesses, in turn, pay their suppliers, creditors, employees, and owners.

    And some of that money ultimately contributes to the profits and financial returns received by people who already own substantial assets.

    So even when money does trickle down through wages, much of it quickly begins circulating through the economy again, with much of it flowing upward as profits, interest, and rent.

    Meanwhile, those at the top possess something much more enduring than a paycheck.

    They own the factories, the land, the technology, the brands, the patents, and the distribution networks.

    These assets can continue generating income year after year.

    And that income can be used to acquire even more assets.

    At the bottom, money is spent to survive. At the top, ownership and the revenue from it can be used to accumulate even more ownership.

    The worker must return to work the next morning to earn another paycheck.

    The owner wakes up still owning the assets that generate income.

    Of course, businesses can fail, investments can lose value, and fortunes can disappear. But the structural advantage of owning productive assets remains.

    Money circulates throughout society, but ownership can remain concentrated in relatively few hands, oftentimes for generations.

    And that concentration can grow even while billions of people work continuously just to maintain their standard of living.

    This is one of the most important reasons why simply increasing the amount of money circulating through the economy does not necessarily resolve inequality.

    The money may change hands a thousand times.

    But the ownership structure remains unchanged.

    And Then There Are the Taxes

    There is another fascinating aspect of this system that rarely receives the attention it deserves.

    Consider how businesses and wage earners are taxed.

    A company earns revenue.

    Before corporate income tax is calculated, it can generally deduct legitimate business expenses such as wages, machinery, equipment, transportation, rent, maintenance, and other operating costs.

    The company pays tax on its remaining taxable profit.

    Now consider the wage earner.

    The worker earns a salary, pays applicable income taxes and social contributions, and then uses what remains to pay for food, housing, electricity, transportation, and other necessities.

    There may be personal allowances, deductions, and exemptions, of course. Tax systems vary considerably between countries. Deductions that exist almost as if to not give a too cruel impression of the monetary system itself.

    But the general distinction is remarkable.

    A business can deduct the costs of operating before calculating its taxable profit. A worker generally must cover the costs of living from income that has already been taxed.

    And isn’t that interesting?

    Because a human being has operating costs too!

    A person needs food to function, a place to sleep, clothing, healthcare, electricity, and often transportation to get to work.

    Without these things, the person cannot continue producing anything.

    Yet most ordinary living expenses are treated as personal consumption rather than deductible costs of generating income.

    And when workers spend their remaining wages, they pay additional taxes on the goods and services they purchase.

    So the money they receive is reduced by taxes, reduced again by the necessities of life, and then circulates back into an economy where ownership continues to generate more financial returns for the owners.

    Businesses and their owners pay taxes too, and taxation provides essential public services. This is not to suggest that every owner pays less tax than every worker.

    But the underlying distinction raises an important question.

    Why does the economic system recognize the necessity of maintaining a business as a cost of production, while treating the necessity of maintaining a human life so differently?

    And perhaps an even more important question:

    Is the purpose of the economy to maintain profitable businesses, or to maintain thriving human beings?

    Try Working at the Bottom

    Imagine taking a billionaire shareholder or a highly paid corporate executive and placing that person in a garment factory in Myanmar.

    Let them work the same hours, under the same conditions, for exactly the same wages as the workers beside them.

    No special privileges. No accumulated wealth to fall back on. No comfortable home waiting at the end of the day.

    Just the sewing machine, the production targets, the long hours, and the struggle to make ends meet.

    How long would they last?

    Would they even know how to operate the machinery or maintain the speed and precision required of an experienced garment worker?

    Perhaps some would learn. But the point is not whether wealthy people are capable of hard work.

    The point is that the people receiving the smallest financial rewards may be performing work that those receiving the largest rewards would find extremely difficult to endure.

    And yet society frequently treats the people at the top as the great wealth creators, while those at the bottom are regarded as inexpensive, replaceable labor.

    Something is profoundly wrong with that picture.

    The Illusion of Trickle-Down

    Now return to the promise of trickle-down economics.

    The argument is that allowing wealthy individuals and businesses to retain more money will stimulate investment, create jobs, and eventually improve living standards for everyone.

    Investment can certainly create jobs, and successful businesses can benefit entire communities.

    But the broader claim that concentrating more wealth at the top reliably produces greater prosperity for everyone is much more questionable.

    A study examining major tax reductions for the rich in 18 OECD countries over several decades found that such policies increased income inequality without producing significant improvements in economic growth or unemployment.

    And there is an even more fundamental question.

    Why should the people producing the wealth have to wait for it to trickle back down to them?

    The garment workers are already producing something valuable.

    The farmers are already growing food.

    The builders are already constructing homes.

    The nurses are already caring for patients.

    The engineers are already developing technology.

    The wealth of society does not magically originate in the bank accounts of billionaires.

    It emerges from a vast network of human effort, knowledge, natural resources, infrastructure, and technology.

    Yet the ownership structure allows a disproportionate share of the financial rewards to accumulate in relatively few hands.

    The promise is that wealth will trickle down.

    But most of the economic machinery is organized to channel profits upward.

    Those Who Control Access

    One of the most important advantages enjoyed by large corporations is access to the global market.

    A garment worker in Myanmar may produce clothes worn by people in Europe, America, Asia, and elsewhere.

    But the worker does not have direct access to all those customers.

    The international brand does.

    The brand controls the marketing, the distribution, the customer relationships, and often the intellectual property associated with the products.

    And this control gives it enormous bargaining power.

    Suppliers compete to gain access to the brand’s market. Factories compete to win contracts. Workers compete to obtain jobs in those factories.

    At every level, competition can increase the pressure on those below.

    The result is a system in which the global market generates extraordinary opportunities for some, while others struggle to earn enough to survive despite contributing directly to the products being sold.

    Those at the top compete to accumulate wealth. Those at the bottom compete for the opportunity to survive.

    And the people at the top may have almost no personal contact with those whose labor sustains their businesses.

    They see financial reports, production costs, profit margins, and shareholder returns.

    But behind those numbers are human beings with families, hopes, dreams, and lives of their own.

    And Then Come the Robots

    Now imagine what happens as artificial intelligence and robotics increasingly take over production.

    Factories become more automated. Transportation becomes autonomous. Agriculture becomes increasingly robotic. Even intellectual and administrative work can be performed by AI.

    The productive capacity of humanity could increase enormously while the amount of human labor required declines.

    This should be wonderful news.

    After all, humanity has spent thousands of years developing tools and technology to reduce the effort required to survive.

    But within an ownership-based monetary system, automation raises a crucial question:

    Who owns the machines?

    If a corporation replaces thousands of workers with robots, the corporation may reduce its production costs dramatically.

    But what happens to the workers?

    They may lose their incomes, while the owners of the automated production systems enjoy even greater profits.

    Technology that could liberate humanity from compulsory labor instead risks concentrating even more wealth among those who own it.

    And the more production becomes automated, the more decisive ownership may become in determining who benefits.

    The pyramid could become even steeper.

    Unless humanity changes the system itself.

    A Revolution of Understanding

    Now, I realize that reading about these inequalities can provoke strong feelings.

    Anger. Frustration. Resentment. Perhaps even outrage.

    Especially when considering the lives of people who work extraordinarily hard, yet struggle to provide even the most basic necessities for themselves and their families.

    But I want to make something absolutely clear.

    I am not advocating a violent revolution. I am advocating a revolution of understanding.

    I am not suggesting that humanity should rise up against the wealthy, overthrow governments, or replace one ruling elite with another.

    History has seen enough of that.

    And what would it accomplish if the underlying system still remained the same?

    Replace one group of owners with another, and the pyramid still exists.

    Replace one political leadership with another, and the competition for money, power, and resources continues.

    Even if the new leaders begin with the best intentions, they inherit a system that rewards accumulation, competition, and control.

    And sooner or later, the same patterns reappear.

    The problem is not that certain people are inherently bad.

    The problem is that humanity has based civilization on a system in which the pursuit of financial advantage can become more important than the well-being of the people the system is supposed to serve.

    And people throughout the pyramid are participating in it, often because they see no realistic alternative.

    The Right Thing

    Those at the top may genuinely believe they are doing the right thing. They are operating businesses, providing jobs, making investments, and following the rules.

    Those at the bottom are simply trying to survive.

    It is not  the people who need replacing. It is the system that needs to be replaced.

    And that transformation cannot be achieved through hatred.

    It requires understanding.

    Understanding how the monetary system works.

    Understanding how the concept of ownership concentrates access to resources.

    Understanding how financial pressure travels downward while financial rewards accumulate upward.

    And most importantly, understanding that humanity does not have to organize society this way forever.

    The Endless Attempts to Fix Money

    For generations, humanity has tried to make the monetary system more fair.

    Higher minimum wages. Progressive taxation. Wealth taxes. Labor protections. Social security. Welfare programs. Subsidies. Regulations.

    Many of these measures have improved people’s lives enormously, and they remain important for protecting people today.

    But they are still attempts to manage the consequences of a system built around money, ownership, and competition.

    Raise wages, and businesses may struggle and raise prices, reduce costs elsewhere, or seek cheaper production.

    Increase taxes, and capital may seek more favorable jurisdictions.

    Introduce new regulations, and companies may find ways to reorganize their activities around them.

    The struggle continues.

    Not because every reform is useless, but because reforms do not necessarily change the foundation on which the entire system rests.

    And that foundation is the idea that access to Earth’s resources and the products of human cooperation should be determined primarily through ownership and purchasing power.

    Perhaps the time has come to question that foundation itself.

    Perhaps humanity has reached a point where endlessly adjusting the monetary system is no longer enough.

    Instead of trying to make the pyramid a little more comfortable for those at the bottom, why not begin imagining a world without the pyramid at all?

    From Ownership to Stewardship

    What if the purpose of production were not to generate financial profits, but simply to provide what people need and want? While also protecting nature and the Earth making it possible for us to live here at all?

    What if the resources of Earth were regarded not as commodities to be owned and exploited, but as a common inheritance to be responsibly managed?

    What if factories, technology, infrastructure, and automated production systems were organized cooperatively for the benefit of everyone?

    This is the fundamental idea behind a resource-based economy.

    Instead of a monetary pyramid, humanity could develop a global cooperative network based on stewardship, intelligent resource management, and non-reciprocal sharing.

    The purpose of producing a garment would be to provide someone with clothing.

    The purpose of growing food would be to feed people.

    The purpose of building houses would be to provide comfortable places to live.

    And the purpose of developing AI and robotics would be to reduce unnecessary human labor while improving the quality of life for everyone. Not to make the top even richer.

    There would be no need to squeeze wages to increase profits.

    No need for workers to compete for the lowest acceptable pay.

    No need for shareholders to accumulate financial rewards from the labor of people they have never met.

    And no need for wealth to trickle anywhere. Because we would all be wealthy. Not in money, but in time and quality of life.

    Because access to life’s necessities would no longer depend on someone’s position in a financial hierarchy.

    Of course, developing such a society would require enormous cooperation, technological development, careful planning, and a fundamental change in how humanity understands resources and ownership.

    But the productive capacity needed to begin that transformation already exists.

    And AI and robotics may make it increasingly achievable.

    A New Foundation

    The Worth of Life Itself

    But even a resource-based economy cannot be built on technology alone.

    It needs something much more fundamental.

    A new common understanding of human worth and the worth of life itself.

    An understanding that a human being does not become more valuable by owning more land, accumulating more money, or controlling more resources.

    An understanding that a person working in a garment factory in Myanmar is no less worthy of a fulfilling life than a billionaire living in a mansion. In fact, it would be an understanding that all life is valuable and no minimum wage labor in factories are necessary. 

    An understanding that nobody should have to earn the right to exist.

    And an understanding that Earth’s resources are not here merely to enrich those who happen to control them, but to sustain the extraordinary diversity of life on this planet.

    This is the foundation I believe humanity needs to build upon.

    Not a new elite.

    Not a new ideology imposed by force.

    Not another competition for control.

    But a shared recognition that life itself has value, regardless of who you are.

    And from that understanding, an entirely different way of organizing civilization becomes possible.

    One based on cooperation rather than competition for survival.

    Stewardship rather than ownership.

    Access rather than purchasing power.

    And the well-being of all life rather than the accumulation of financial wealth.

    The End of the Pyramid

    Humanity has created an extraordinary global production system.

    Billions of people cooperate across continents to produce food, clothing, housing, medicine, transportation, communication technology, and countless other things.

    In many ways, the world already functions as an enormous cooperative network.

    But that cooperation is organized through a monetary system in which access to resources and the benefits of production depend heavily on ownership and purchasing power.

    And so the pyramid persists.

    Those at the bottom struggle to survive while contributing to the prosperity of those above.

    Those at the top accumulate wealth through a system sustained by the combined efforts of countless people below them.

    And society is told that the solution is to make the wealthy even wealthier, so that some of their prosperity might eventually trickle down.

    But perhaps humanity has been asking the wrong question all along.

    Instead of asking how to make wealth trickle down more effectively, perhaps the question should be:

    Why have a pyramid in the first place?

    Why organize the extraordinary productive capacity of an entire planet around financial accumulation when it could be organized around meeting the needs of everyone?

    Why make people compete for access to the very abundance they collectively produce?

    And why allow ownership to determine who enjoys the greatest benefits of technology that could potentially liberate all humanity?

    The future does not have to be a world where wealth trickles down—or up.

    It could be a world where resources are intelligently managed, production is cooperatively organized, and the benefits are shared by everyone.

    And getting there does not require humanity to fight another revolution against one another.

    It requires humanity to understand something new together.

    Not a revolution of weapons, but a revolution of understanding.

    A revolution that begins when enough people recognize that human worth cannot be measured in money, that the Earth belongs to no one, and that the purpose of civilization should be to allow all life to thrive.

    That is the world I envision in my novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity. 

    A world where humanity has finally moved beyond the monetary pyramid and learned to cooperate for the benefit of all life on Earth. A novel I truly think can make an impact if enough people discover it. 

    A way to create this peaceful revolution of understanding. True change always starts as an idea.

    That is why I again and again ask you to share these articles and the book if you have read and enjoyed it. 

    I thank you.

    Discover the story

  • Do You Really Want to See Change?

    Do You Really Want to See Change?

    I have a confession to make.

    I want millions of people to read my novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity. I want it to reach mainstream media, become the subject of discussions and debates around the world, and hopefully even become a major motion picture with the message eventually  reaching hundreds of millions of people.

    That might sound like hubris. Or perhaps you think I simply want to sell a lot of books.

    Probably a little bit of both.

    Yes, I would love to sell a lot of books. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.

    But there is something far more important behind my ambition.

    I genuinely, honestly, and deeply want to see change in this world.

    Not just another political reform. Not another government promising to fix what the previous government failed to fix. Not just another redistribution of wealth that leaves the detrimental structures of civilization untouched.

    I want humanity to begin questioning the very foundations upon which our civilization has been built.

    Because I truly believe that many of our greatest problems have a common denominator: 

    a system based on money, trading, and ownership of the resources upon which everyone depends.

    And I believe there is another way.

    What If We Could Actually Do This?

    Imagine a world where nobody has to worry about having enough money to survive. Where food, housing, healthcare, education, transportation, and everything else people need are available through cooperation and intelligent resource management assisted by AI.

    Imagine a world where ownership has been replaced by stewardship. Where the resources of our planet are no longer treated primarily as commodities to be bought, sold, accumulated, and exploited, but as a shared inheritance to be cared for and managed for the benefit of everyone.

    Imagine a civilization where advanced technology, artificial intelligence, robotics, and automation are used to liberate humanity from unnecessary labor rather than simply to increase profits for those who own the technology.

    A world where people are free to contribute according to their interests, talents, and passions, rather than being forced to sell their time simply to have a life.

    A world where humanity cooperates to create abundance, restore nature, eliminate poverty, and make life on Earth as wonderful as possible for everyone.

    Does that sound impossible?

    Perhaps it does.

    But what if it isn’t?

    the greatest obstacle

    What if the greatest obstacle isn’t a lack of resources, technology, or intelligence, but our inability to imagine organizing civilization differently?

    What if money, trading, and ownership are the very culprits of our problems and not indispensable foundations of civilization, but rather human inventions that have served their purposes and are now increasingly standing in the way of what humanity could become?

    What if we could actually create a world that works for everyone?

    A Novel, Not a Manifesto

    This is why I wrote Waking Up.

    Not as a political manifesto. Not as an economic textbook. And certainly not as a detailed blueprint for a new civilization.

    It’s a novel.

    A story about the bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels, a contemporary man who wakes up a hundred years into the future and discovers that humanity has created a civilization completely beyond his imagination.

    Money has disappeared. Trading has become obsolete. Ownership has been replaced by stewardship. Humanity has learned to organize its resources cooperatively, guided by advanced artificial intelligence and a fundamentally different understanding of what civilization is supposed to accomplish.

    Through Benjamin’s eyes, readers discover this world gradually, along with its history, its technologies, its relationships, its challenges, and its extraordinary possibilities.

    And, of course, not everyone is happy with the new world. There  is an antagonist who would prefer to return to the old system.

    Because Waking Up is, first and foremost, a story.

    But behind that story is an invitation.

    An invitation to imagine something different.

    I don’t expect readers to agree with everything in the book. I don’t expect them to believe that every technological or social development I describe will become reality.

    What I hope is that, somewhere along the journey, readers might begin to think:

    Wait a minute. This could actually work.

    And perhaps, by the time they finish the book, they might find themselves thinking:

    This is the world I want to live in. This is the future I want for my children.

    That is the seed I want to plant.

    When an Idea Takes Root

    I believe true and lasting change begins with an idea.

    And mind you, this is not my idea. I didn’t wake up one morning with a sudden eureka moment, realizing that money, trading, and ownership were at the root of so many of humanity’s problems. No, throughout my life, I had a growing feeling that something was fundamentally wrong with the way our civilization was organized. I felt that humanity could do so much better, but I couldn’t quite see how. That changed in 2008, when I discovered The Venus Project and its vision of a global resource-based economy. Suddenly, so many things fell into place. It gave shape to something I had felt for years but hadn’t been able to articulate. That discovery eventually inspired me to write Waking Up, a novel that I now genuinely believe could help change the world if enough people read it. Not because I have invented some revolutionary new idea, but because I hope to help an existing idea take root in the minds and hearts of humanity.

    Not just any idea, but an idea that makes sense to people. An idea that offers a genuinely desirable alternative to something they previously considered impossible.

    At first, a world without money, trading, and ownership probably seem absurd.

    People might laugh at the suggestion.

    They might say that human nature makes it impossible. That people are too selfish. That nobody would contribute without financial incentives. That civilization would collapse without prices, wages, profits, and ownership.

    But then perhaps they read a story that makes them reconsider.

    Perhaps they begin to see how such a civilization might function.

    And suddenly, the impossible becomes a question.

    Could this actually work?

    That question is enormously important.

    Because once people begin asking whether something is possible, they can start exploring how to make it possible.

    And when enough people begin to believe that a different civilization is not only possible but desirable, something extraordinary can happen.

    The idea Takes root

    After all, new ideas often seem to pass through three stages, as described in a famous saying commonly attributed to the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer:

    1. First, they are ridiculed as absurd or impossible.
    2. Then, as they gain traction and begin challenging established beliefs, they face fierce opposition from those defending the status quo.
    3. Finally, they become accepted as self-evident, as though everyone had known the truth all along. The attribution to Schopenhauer is disputed, but the observation is compelling. And perhaps the idea of a world without money, trading, and ownership is following a similar path.

    It spreads from person to person. From conversations between friends to discussions in families, schools, universities, workplaces, and communities.

    Scientists begin considering the technological possibilities. Engineers begin exploring practical solutions.

    Economists question old assumptions. Communities experiment with new forms of cooperation. Artificial intelligence helps people develop and evaluate ideas that might previously have been beyond their reach.

    And eventually, the conversation changes.

    Instead of asking why a different world cannot work, people begin asking:

    How can we get from here to there?

    That is when real change begins.

    Revolution by Force

    There is, however, something absolutely fundamental about how this transformation must happen.

    It cannot be imposed from above.

    Humanity has already experienced revolutions in which one ruling elite was overthrown, only to be replaced by another.

    Consider the Russian Revolution more than a hundred years ago.

    It emerged from profound dissatisfaction with inequality, exploitation, and the concentration of power. Many of those who supported it genuinely believed they were helping create a fairer society.

    But the Soviet system that followed eventually developed its own powerful ruling elite, with enormous authority concentrated in the hands of relatively few people.

    Whatever the original intentions, the promised liberation did not unfold as many had hoped.

    I don’t want humanity to repeat that mistake.

    I don’t want a new revolutionary leadership taking power and deciding how everyone else should live.

    I don’t want another ideology imposed through coercion, fear, or violence.

    And I certainly don’t want a new elite claiming ownership of a world that is supposed to be based on sharing and stewardship.

    That would defeat the entire purpose.

    We cannot force humanity into a better world. We must inspire humanity to want to create one together.

    And that is precisely why the idea must spread as far and wide as possible.

    It must take deep roots in the minds and hearts of humanity, not merely among a handful of intellectuals, politicians, or visionaries.

    It must become something people understand, believe in, and genuinely want.

    Not because somebody has told them what to think, but because they have considered the possibilities for themselves.

    Only then can a transformation of this magnitude become something fundamentally different from the revolutions of the past.

    Not a struggle for control of a new system.

    But a collective decision to create something better.

    A Transformation of Human Understanding

    Ultimately, what I envision is not merely an economic transformation.

    It is a transformation of human understanding itself.

    For thousands of years, humanity has organized much of its civilization around competition for resources, territorial control, ownership, trading, and the accumulation of wealth.

    These arrangements have become so deeply embedded in our thinking that many people regard them as natural and unavoidable.

    But they are not laws of nature.

    They are human arrangements based on ideas.

    Unfortunately these ideas has led to a lot of suffering.

    But human arrangements can change based on new ideas.

    What if people began to understand that the purpose of civilization is not to generate profits, accumulate wealth, or maintain economic growth for its own sake?

    What if the purpose of civilization were simply to make life as good as possible for everyone, while caring for the planet that makes life possible?

    That would change the questions humanity asks.

    Instead of asking whether there is enough money to feed everyone, we would ask whether there is enough food, land, water, technology, and productive capacity.

    Instead of asking whether healthcare is profitable, we would ask how to make the best possible healthcare available to everyone.

    Instead of asking how many jobs automation might eliminate, we would ask how much unnecessary labor it could relieve humanity of.

    Instead of asking who can afford a home, we would ask how to provide good homes for everyone who needs one.

    And instead of asking how to compete more effectively against other nations, we could begin asking how to cooperate more effectively across the entire planet.

    The possibilities are enormous.

    But to recognize them, we first have to change how we think.

    The Intelligence Within 

    I don’t claim to have all the answers.

    Far from it.

    I believe the answers are already embedded in humanity itself.

    In billions of minds. In our accumulated knowledge, our scientific discoveries, our creativity, our compassion, our curiosity, and our extraordinary ability to solve problems together.

    No single person could possibly design an entirely new civilization.

    Nor should anyone attempt to dictate one.

    What I envision would have to emerge through collaboration, communication, experimentation, and the collective intelligence of humanity.

    And I believe this requires something more than the short-sighted intelligence of the ego.

    The ego tends to ask: What’s in it for me? How can I win? How can I gain more power, wealth, or control?

    That way of thinking has influenced human civilization for a very long time.

    Another Kind of Intelligence

    But there is another kind of intelligence available to us.

    An intelligence rooted in love, understanding, empathy, curiosity, and the recognition that the well-being of others matters just as much as our own.

    An intelligence that asks:

    What can we create together?

    How can we make life better for everyone?

    How can we care for this extraordinary planet and all the beings living upon it?

    I believe this deeper intelligence exists within every human being.

    And perhaps the greatest challenge facing humanity is not developing more powerful technology, but learning to use our intelligence and technology together, guided by wisdom rather than fear, competition, and the desire for control.

    That is how I envision real and lasting change.

    Not through domination.

    Not through violence.

    But through love, understanding, curiosity, and cooperation.

    All the Answers

    I Don’t Have All the Answers. Humanity Does.

    This is also why I don’t consider Waking Up a finished proposal for how civilization should function.

    It’s a starting point. An inspiration. 

    A glimpse of a possible future

    I have spent many years thinking about these ideas, and I have tried to imagine what that civilization based on sharing, stewardship, and intelligent resource management might look like.

    But I am only one person.

    There are countless questions I haven’t answered. Countless challenges I haven’t considered. Countless solutions that other people might discover.

    And that’s exactly the point.

    The purpose of the book is not to provide every answer.

    It is to inspire people to start asking different questions.

    Because once enough people genuinely want to create a world that works for everyone, humanity can begin directing its collective intelligence toward that goal.

    Not following one person’s blueprint.

    Not obeying a new political elite.

    But collaborating to discover the best ways forward.

    Different communities might experiment with different approaches. Some ideas would work. Others would fail and need to be reconsidered. New technologies would open new possibilities. New insights would emerge.

    And gradually, through learning and cooperation, something extraordinary might take shape.

    What humanity needs is an idea powerful enough to inspire people to start finding those answers together.

    Why I’m Asking You to Share This

    So now, perhaps you understand why I want my book to reach as many people as possible.

    Why I hope it will attract the attention of mainstream media.

    Why I would love to see it become a major motion picture, reaching audiences around the world.

    And why I keep asking people to share my articles and recommend Waking Up to their friends.

    Yes, I want to sell books.

    Of course I do.

    But if selling books were my primary motivation, I should probably have written something entirely different.

    I wrote Waking Up because I genuinely believe humanity can create a much better world than the one we have today.

    A world without poverty, without economic exploitation, without the constant struggle for money, and without the enormous waste of human potential and resources that our current arrangements produce.

    A world where people are free to live meaningful lives, contribute according to their interests and abilities, and enjoy the extraordinary possibilities that science, technology, and human cooperation can offer.

    Our Shared Home

    A world where humanity finally begins treating planet Earth as a shared home rather than a collection of territories and resources to be owned, exploited, and fought over.

    And I believe the first step toward such a world is for enough people to begin imagining it.

    To genuinely want it.

    To believe that it might be possible.

    Because when an idea takes root deeply enough in humanity, it can become much more powerful than any individual who first expressed it.

    Think of ideas like democracy, the abolition of slavery, women’s rights, and universal human rights. All challenged deeply rooted beliefs about how society should function. They spread, inspired people, and gradually transformed the world. What once seemed impossible eventually became something billions of people considered self-evident.

    It can become a shared vision.

    And a shared vision will inspire collective action.

    That is why I am asking you to help spread the word.

    Not because I want everyone to agree with me.

    Not because I want people to follow me.

    But because I want the idea to grow beyond me, beyond my book, and beyond anything I could possibly accomplish on my own.

    I want people to question it, challenge it, improve it, and make it their own.

    I want it to take root so deeply and spread so widely that no individual, organization, government, or elite can ever claim ownership of it.

    Because the future of humanity should belong to humanity.

    Do You Really Want to See Change?

    If so, imagine a fundamental transformation of civilization itself.

    Imagine humanity finally realizing that it doesn’t have to continue organizing life around competition, trading, ownership, and  money for survival.

    Imagine billions of people beginning to ask how to create a world that truly works for everyone.

    And imagine what might happen when they start collaborating to make it real.

    I don’t know exactly how that future will unfold.

    Nobody does.

    But I believe it can begin with something remarkably simple.

    An idea.

    An idea that inspires people.

    An idea that people believe in.

    An idea that takes root.

    An idea who’s time has come.

    Benjamin Michaels wakes up to a new world. I want humanity to wake up to the possibility of creating one.

    That is why I wrote Waking Up.

    And that is why, if you’ve read the book and enjoyed it, I hope you’ll recommend it to others. And if this article resonates with you, I hope you will share it too.

    I thank you from the depth of my heart.

    Not merely to help me sell more books.

    But to help an idea take root in the world.

    Discover the story

  • Universal High Income – And Why It Will Not Work

    Universal High Income – And Why It Will Not Work

    You cannot create abundance by creating and distributing  more money. You can only create abundance by producing more of what people actually need. And distribute that.

    Elon Musk has repeatedly predicted a future in which artificial intelligence, robotics, and automation will make human labor largely unnecessary. He has even suggested that money itself may eventually become irrelevant.

    At the same time, he has introduced the idea of Universal High Income (UHI), which is a high basic income where everyone receives enough money to enjoy a high standard of living, regardless of whether they work on not.

    It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?

    Machines do all the work, everyone receives a generous income, and humanity is finally liberated from the necessity of working for a living.

    But there is a fundamental problem with this vision.

    Universal High Income attempts to create universal abundance through a monetary system that cannot guarantee it.

    And the reasons are surprisingly simple.

    1. Resources – Money Does Not Create Resources

    Imagine that tomorrow morning, everyone on Earth wakes up to discover that one million euros has been deposited into their bank account.

    Wonderful! Everyone is suddenly a millionaire!

    But what has actually changed?

    Has a single additional house been built? Has one extra tomato been grown? Has another hospital opened? Has more electricity been generated? Are there suddenly more resources available to humanity?

    No.

    The world contains exactly the same physical resources and productive capacity as it did yesterday.

    The only difference is that everyone now has much more money with which to compete for those resources.

    Money is not food. Money is not housing. Money is not energy. Money is simply a means of gaining access to these things within the monetary system.

    Of course, additional purchasing power can stimulate production where unused capacity exists. But production still requires actual resources, energy, infrastructure, and technology.

    And if those resources are already being used to their limits, distributing more money will not magically create more of them.

    You cannot print abundance. You have to produce it.

    This is the first and most fundamental problem with Universal High Income.

    2. Prices – Supply and Demand Will Absorb the Money

    The second problem is built into the monetary system itself.

    Supply and demand.

    When more people have more money to spend, demand increases. And when demand increases faster than supply, prices tend to rise.

    Imagine a city with 10,000 available apartments and 100,000 people who would like to live in them.

    Now imagine everyone suddenly receives €10,000 per month through Universal High Income.

    Does that create another 90,000 apartments?

    Of course not.

    Instead, many more people can now afford to compete for the same limited number of apartments.

    Landlords and property owners discover that tenants can pay considerably more. Rents rise. Property prices rise.

    An apartment that previously rented for €1,000 per month might eventually cost €5,000 or more.

    And suddenly, that wonderful €10,000 monthly income doesn’t seem quite so wonderful anymore. Because prices have not only gone up on rent, but everything. When everyone suddenly have more money prices will automatically go up. That’s how our monetary system works. 

    The same principle applies to food, energy, water, land, and other necessities whenever supply cannot keep up with demand.

    Even if automation makes televisions, computers, clothing, and countless manufactured products cheaper, it does not automatically make desirable land, housing, or every essential resource equally abundant.

    And what happens when governments increase UHI to compensate for rising prices?

    More purchasing power enters the market, potentially driving prices even higher.

    Higher incomes. Higher demand. Higher prices. Another increase in income.

    Standard of Living

    The cycle can continue without necessarily improving people’s actual standard of living.

    And there is another important consideration. What constitutes a high standard of living is highly subjective.

    Some people may feel they need a luxurious mansion, several expensive cars, and countless possessions to be satisfied with their lives, while others may be perfectly happy living in a modest three-bedroom apartment with everything they need.

    There is no universal definition of how much is enough.

    And perhaps this points to something even more fundamental. Maybe humanity needs to reconsider not only its economic system, but also what it values, what it considers prosperity, and what actually makes people happy.

    Because creating a world of abundance should not mean encouraging everyone to consume as much as possible. It should mean creating a world where everyone has the opportunity to live a fulfilling life according to their own needs, interests, and preferences, while respecting the needs of others and the limits of our planet.

    Of course, prices will not rise equally everywhere. Where production can expand rapidly enough, additional supply can satisfy increased demand without major price increases.

    But this only reinforces the central point.

    It is the availability of actual goods and resources, not the amount of money people receive, that ultimately determines their material standard of living.

    Universal High Income does not guarantee universal high purchasing power.

    And a world full of millionaires is not necessarily a world full of abundance.

    3. Eroded taxes – Who Will Pay for the Universal High Income?

    There is another problem that becomes particularly interesting when considering the future Musk describes.

    Where will the money come from?

    Today, governments collect taxes from employment income, business profits, consumption, property, and other economic activities.

    But what happens when AI and robotics replace an enormous proportion of human employment?

    If millions or billions of people no longer receive wages, governments will lose a substantial part of their traditional income-tax and payroll-tax revenues.

    At the very moment when they would need enormous amounts of money to finance Universal High Income, one of their major sources of revenue could be disappearing.

    Of course, governments could tax the corporations that own the robots and automated factories instead.

    But consider what that means.

    The corporations produce the goods and services. People receive money from the government to purchase those same goods and services. The corporations receive that money, and the government then taxes the corporations to finance the next round of payments.

    Money circulates from governments to consumers, from consumers to corporations, and from corporations back to governments.

    Such a system is not mathematically impossible. Governments already redistribute money through taxation and public spending.

    But why preserve this elaborate financial arrangement if the machines are already capable of producing what everyone needs?

    Why not concentrate on making the actual goods and services available instead?

    And there is another important question.

    Who owns those machines?

    4. The Owners Will Still Own Everything

    Universal High Income does not fundamentally change the ownership structure of the monetary system.

    Far from it. If anything, it reenforces it.

    Land still belongs to landowners. Factories still belong to corporations. Automated production systems still belong to whoever owns them.

    And everyone else still needs money to access what those owners control.

    As long as there are still owners there will be rich and poor.

    Imagine a future in which millions of humanoid robots produce food, construct buildings, manufacture products, and provide services.

    Human labor has become largely unnecessary.

    But if the robots, factories, land, and resources remain concentrated in relatively few hands, everyone else remains dependent on purchasing access to their output.

    Universal High Income could then become a mechanism for distributing purchasing power to the population while preserving the existing concentration of productive ownership.

    The owners receive money from consumers, while consumers depend on governments to provide that money.

    Even if everyone receives a generous income, the underlying relationship remains.

    Some own the productive resources. Others pay to access them.

    The technology has changed, but the economic structure has not.

    Why would we want such a world?

    Where a tiny elite owns most everything while the rest are dependent on government payouts?

    And this brings us to an interesting contradiction in Musk’s vision.

    5. Elon Musk’s Contradiction

    Elon Musk is working tirelessly to develop technologies that could eventually eliminate the necessity for much of human labor.

    Through artificial intelligence, robotics, and automation, he is helping create the technological foundation for a world in which machines could perform an extraordinary proportion of the tasks necessary to sustain human civilization.

    He has also suggested that money may eventually become irrelevant.

    Yet he continues to describe the future in terms of Universal High Income.

    But why?

    If AI and robotics can produce practically everything humanity needs, why should everyone need a high income to purchase those things?

    If money is becoming irrelevant, why introduce another mechanism that makes everyone dependent on receiving it?

    Why keep money at all??

    And perhaps most importantly, why is the discussion so focused on how much money people might receive rather than who will own and control the automated production systems?

    As long as there are owners of the world’s resources and productive systems there will always be an imbalance in our world. An imbalance that historically has led to countless conflicts and wars.

    Sensational Predictions

    I sometimes wonder whether all these sensational predictions about Universal High Income, the end of work, and the disappearance of money are mostly meant to distract from the much more fundamental questions:

    Who will own the robots and factories? Who will control the resources? Who will decide what gets produced? And who will benefit from the extraordinary abundance these technologies could make possible?

    I cannot know Musk’s true intentions. But I would certainly like to hear him address these questions more directly.

    Because the future of humanity is not fundamentally about how much money everyone will receive.

    It is about what humanity can produce sustainably, how those resources are managed, and whether everyone can benefit.

    6. The Real Opportunity of AI and Robotics

    Here is where the discussion becomes truly exciting.

    For most of human history, producing the necessities of life has required enormous amounts of human labor.

    People had to cultivate fields, build houses, manufacture products, transport goods, and perform countless other tasks.

    The monetary system developed around this world of human labor, exchange, ownership, and scarcity.

    But what happens when technology changes the fundamental conditions?

    What happens when automated systems can grow food, construct buildings, manufacture goods, transport resources, maintain infrastructure, and perform most of the work necessary to sustain civilization?

    For the first time in history, humanity may be approaching the technological capacity to provide an abundant standard of living for everyone without requiring everyone to work for it.

    That is an extraordinary opportunity.

    But instead of asking how to distribute enough money for everyone to purchase this abundance, shouldn’t the question be how to organize the production and distribution of the abundance itself?

    We have established that more money does not lead to more resources.

    The Real Questions

    These are the real questions we must ask:

    What resources are available?

    How can we optimize them?

    What does everyone need?

    How much can be produced sustainably?

    How can technology coordinate production and distribution so that everyone’s needs can be met while preserving the planet’s ecosystems?

    These are questions AI could help humanity answer.

    And they lead directly toward a resource-based economy.

    7. From Universal High Income to Universal High Living Standards

    Imagine a world where housing, food, energy, transportation, healthcare, education, and communication are available to everyone without monetary transactions.

    Not because everything is infinitely abundant, but because humanity has organized its resources and productive capacity around meeting people’s needs rather than generating financial returns.

    In such a world, AI and robotics would continuously monitor available resources, production capacity, environmental conditions, and actual demand.

    Production could be adjusted according to what people need and what the planet can sustainably provide.

    Resources that remain scarce would still require responsible allocation. Technology cannot create unlimited land, water, or raw materials. But it can help optimize and maximize what we have.

    But scarcity would no longer automatically mean that those with the most money receive the most.

    Instead of ownership, humanity could develop a system of stewardship, where the Earth’s resources are managed for the benefit of everyone. 

    We would be stewards of Earth instead of owners.

    And instead of measuring prosperity through income, it could be measured through actual living standards, access to necessities, personal freedom, health, well-being, and environmental sustainability.

    Nobody would need to become a millionaire to live an abundant life.

    Nobody would need to receive Universal High Income to access the products of automated production.

    The objective would no longer be universal financial wealth.

    It would be universal real wealth.

    8. Why Preserve the Bottleneck?

    Money is an intermediary bottleneck between human needs and the resources required to satisfy them.

    Today, someone can be hungry while food is available, homeless while houses stand empty, or unable to obtain medical treatment even though the necessary technology and expertise exist.

    Not necessarily because the resources are unavailable, but because access to them depends on money.

    Universal High Income attempts to address this problem by giving everyone more money.

    But it leaves the bottleneck in place.

    It leaves prices in place.

    It leaves competition for purchasing power in place.

    And it leaves the concentration of ownership completely untouched.

    If AI and robotics eventually provide humanity with the productive capacity to satisfy everyone’s needs, why should access to that production continue to depend on a financial mechanism?

    Why should people need money to obtain what society is technologically capable of providing?

    The question is no longer simply how to make everyone rich.

    It is how to create a world in which everyone can live richly, regardless of money.

    Conclusion: 

    Abundance Is Not a Number in a Bank Account

    Universal High Income is an understandable response to a future in which AI and robotics may eliminate enormous amounts of human employment.

    And as a transitional measure, income guarantees could help protect people from poverty and economic disruption in the transition to a world of real wealth.

    You cannot print money and think it is abundance.

    You have to produce it. And once you can produce it for everyone, why should anyone need money to access it?

    This is the future I explore in the novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, where a the bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels  awakens a century from now to discover that humanity has moved beyond money, trade, and ownership toward a cooperative, resource-based civilization.

    Discover the story

  • The Hunger of Humanity

    The Hunger of Humanity

    Why are people dying from hunger in a world capable of feeding everyone?

    The Starvation Death

    Starvation is not a quick death. It is a slow process in which the body gradually consumes itself in a desperate attempt to survive.

    At first, hunger can be overwhelming. The stomach aches, the mind becomes obsessed with food, and weakness begins to set in. But as starvation continues, something strange happens. The sensation of hunger may actually diminish, even as the body deteriorates.

    Muscles waste away. The immune system weakens. Walking becomes difficult, then impossible. Eventually, vital organs begin to fail. You may become confused, apathetic, and increasingly unconscious until death finally arrives.

    Imagine experiencing this yourself. 

    Or worse, watching your own child slowly starve, knowing there is nothing you can do.

    And now consider the most horrifying part:

    This is actually happening in a world that already produces more than enough food to feed everyone.

    People are not necessarily starving because there is no food. They are starving because they cannot access it.

    What kind of civilization allows human beings to die from hunger when we have an abundance of food?

    Too Much Food 

    Every year, approximately 2 billion tonnes of food are lost or wasted globally. This includes food deliberately destroyed, left unharvested, or withheld from sale for economic reasons, including market mechanisms that make surplus production unprofitable. We simply have too much food. According to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), approximately 1.05 billion tonnes are wasted annually by households, restaurants, and retailers alone, while another 931 million tonnes are lost earlier in the supply chain. Together, that’s more than 5 million tonnes of food every single day. In a world where people are dying from hunger, we are not only producing enough food to feed everyone, but losing and throwing away staggering amounts of it because of how our money based food system operates.

    5 million tonnes of food.

    Every single day.

    Wasted.

    The Food  We Actually Produce

    Humanity produces an extraordinary amount of food every year, whereof much is wasted as we see.

    According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), global agricultural production amounts to approximately 10 billion tonnes of crops annually, in addition to hundreds of millions of tonnes of meat, milk, eggs, and seafood.

    Divided among the world’s roughly 8.3 billion people, the crop production alone represents approximately 3.3 kilograms per person every single day, or around 1,200 kilograms per person annually.

    Of course, not all these crops are destined for human consumption. Some are used as animal feed, biofuels, and industrial materials. But even after accounting for these uses, FAO’s latest comprehensive food-balance statistics show that the global food supply provides more than 3,000 calories per person per day.

    We Have Enough

    In other words, we already produce more than enough dietary energy to nourish every human being on Earth, if everyone had adequate access to the food we actually produce.

    We are producing food on an enormous scale, yet we have created a system in which millions of people cannot obtain enough to survive.

    Surely, humanity can do better than that.

    As I was reading the book Why Money is killing us and what we can do about it by Richard Arthur I came across this number:

    9 million people die every year because of hunger. I had to check this and Google confirmed it:

    An estimated nearly 25,000 people die from hunger and malnutrition-related causes each day globally. This calculation is based on mainstream humanitarian figures—such as those from Concern Worldwide and international food monitors—stating that approximately 9 million people lose their lives to hunger-related complications every year. [1, 2]

    Read that again. 

    On average almost 25000 people. 25000. Die. Every day. From hunger. In 2026.

    I felt  physically ill reading these numbers. Honestly, I didn’t know it was that bad.

    That’s approximately 1,000 people every hour.

    About 17 people every minute.

    One human being every four seconds.

    And among them are children. 

    Children who will never grow up, never discover their potential, never experience all the wonderful things life could have offered them.

    Every single day.

    Not because humanity has forgotten how to grow food.

    Not because we lack the technology to transport it.

    Not because we lack the knowledge to nourish every human being on Earth.

    But because we have created a civilization in which access to the necessities of life depends on money.

    And if you don’t have money, you might die.

    The World We Have Learned to Ignore

    The precise number is uncertain, and it isn’t a verified annual death count, but the scale of the tragedy is horrifying no matter what.

    Here I am, sitting comfortably in my home, with a roof over my head and enough nutritious food to eat until I am satisfied.

    I can choose what I want for dinner. I can prepare a delicious dinner with fresh vegetables, herbs, and a variety of ingredients. I can enjoy my meals without worrying about whether I will have anything to eat tomorrow.

    And millions upon millions of people enjoy the same security.

    Meanwhile, elsewhere on this very same planet, people are struggling to find enough food to survive.

    Children are going to bed hungry. Parents are watching their children become weaker, knowing they cannot provide what they desperately need.

    And some of them will die.

    Not because they have done anything wrong.

    Not because they are less deserving of life.

    But because they were born into circumstances that deny them access to the necessities of survival.

    Perhaps the most disturbing thing is that we have learned to live with knowing this.

    Disaster Headlines

    When a disaster kills a thousand people, the world is shocked. Headlines appear everywhere. Governments respond. Aid organizations mobilize.

    But the ongoing tragedy of hunger has become part of the background noise of civilization.

    We cannot bear to think about it for too long.

    So we push it out of our minds.

    And life goes on.

     Abundance with (Artificial) Scarcity

    What makes this tragedy so extraordinary is that humanity already possesses enormous capabilities to produce, preserve, and distribute food.

    We have sophisticated agricultural technology, global transportation networks, refrigeration, automated production, and an extraordinary understanding of nutrition.

    Yet hundreds of millions of people still experience hunger.

    According to the United Nations, approximately 673 million people experienced hunger in 2024.

    How can this be?

    The answer is not simply that humanity lacks food. We don’t.

    Hunger results from poverty, conflict, displacement, failing infrastructure, environmental disasters, and unequal access to resources.

    But there is a fundamental contradiction at the heart of our civilization.

    We have made access to the necessities of life dependent on purchasing power.

    A supermarket can be filled with nutritious food while someone right outside is starving.

    The food exists.

    The hungry person exists.

    The need is undeniable.

    But the person has not enough  money.

    And therefore, the food remains inaccessible.

    We have somehow come to accept financial scarcity as though it were the same thing as physical scarcity.

    It isn’t.

    A lack of money does not necessarily mean a lack of resources.

    It means a lack of permission, within our economic arrangements, to access those resources.

    And when that distinction determines whether someone eats or starves, surely something is fundamentally wrong.

    The Other Hunger

    But humanity also suffers from another kind of hunger.

    A hunger for money. For property. For power. For more more more.

    And unlike the hunger for food, this hunger often seems impossible to satisfy.

    A hungry person needs enough nutritious food to live a healthy life.

    But how much money does a billionaire need?

    How many houses? How much land? How much power?

    There seems to be no natural point at which the hunger for accumulation is satisfied.

    And while some people accumulate far more than they could ever personally use, others struggle to obtain the most basic necessities of life.

    One kind of hunger can be satisfied with a good meal. The other can consume an entire planet without ever being satisfied.

    Human Conscience

    Of course, humanity does have a conscience.

    We send emergency food supplies to famine-stricken regions. Governments contribute aid. Charitable organizations raise funds. Volunteers dedicate their lives to helping those in need.

    And thank goodness they do.

    These efforts save lives.

    But consider what we are actually doing.

    We send bags of fortified flour, emergency porridge, and therapeutic food to people who are starving.

    And while such food can be essential for survival, why should survival be the limit of our ambitions?

    Why should some human beings enjoy fresh, varied, delicious meals every day, while others must depend on emergency rations?

    Why shouldn’t everyone have access to nutritious food that is also enjoyable?

    Food is not merely fuel.

    It is pleasure. Culture. Community. Celebration. Life.

    There are wonderful initiatives, including those led by chefs who prepare freshly cooked meals for people in crisis.

    But even these initiatives face the same fundamental obstacle.

    They need money.

    Money to purchase ingredients. Money to pay for transportation. Money to operate kitchens. Money to maintain their organizations.

    And when the funding runs out, their ability to help is threatened.

    Think about the absurdity.

    We have created a civilization in which people must beg for money to feed the hungry.

    Not necessarily beg for food.

    Beg for money.

    The fertile land is there.

    The farmers may be ready to grow it. The chefs may be ready to prepare it. The volunteers may be willing to help. The trucks may be available to transport it.

    But somewhere between the food and the hungry person stands an invisible barrier.

    A price tag.

    And until someone pays it, the hungry person may remain hungry.

    Conditional Compassion

    I don’t believe that most human beings are indifferent to the suffering of others.

    Quite the opposite.

    Whenever a catastrophe occurs, people demonstrate extraordinary generosity. They donate money, volunteer their time, open their homes, and share what they have.

    Humanity is capable of tremendous compassion.

    But we have organized our civilization around an economic system in which survival, security, and prosperity are tied to financial resources.

    Businesses must remain profitable.

    Governments must balance competing financial demands.

    Organizations must secure funding.

    Individuals must earn enough money to survive.

    And those who accumulate wealth gain greater control over resources and opportunities.

    Even people who desperately want to help others must operate within these financial constraints.

    This is what I have repeatedly described as the invisible logic of the monetary system.

    It doesn’t require everyone to be selfish.

    It simply makes financial considerations central to almost everything we do.

    And oftentimes, those considerations stand directly between a human being and the necessities of life.

    What If We Changed the Question?

    Imagine, for a moment, that humanity decided to organize civilization around a completely different principle.

    Need. 

    Instead of money.

    Instead of asking:

    Can people afford the food they need?

    We ask:

    Do we have the resources and capabilities to feed everyone?

    And if the answer is yes, we organize those resources accordingly.

    No prices. No purchasing power requirements. 

    No need to earn the right to eat.

    Food would be produced, transported, and distributed according to human needs and ecological possibilities.

    Of course, we would still need farmers, scientists, engineers, transportation networks, distribution systems, and people willing to contribute.

    We would still need to deal with droughts, crop failures, damaged infrastructure, and other genuine physical challenges.

    But these would be problems of resources, organization, and technology.

    Not problems of money.

    Imagine what humanity could accomplish if the goal of our food system were simply to provide the best possible nutrition and food experiences for everyone, while protecting the ecosystems that sustain us.

    Not maximizing profit.

    Not increasing market share.

    Not generating financial returns.

    Feeding Humanity

    Surely that should be the primary purpose of a food system.

    Survival Is Not Enough

    And I want to emphasize something important.

    The goal should not merely be to eliminate starvation.

    That is the absolute minimum.

    We should aim much higher.

    Every human being should have the opportunity to enjoy healthy, delicious, varied food.

    Every child should have the nourishment needed to develop fully.

    Every family should be able to sit down together and enjoy a meal without worrying about how to pay for the next one.

    Nobody should have to choose between food, housing, medicine, or other necessities.

    We should not be trying merely to keep people alive.

    We should be creating the conditions for everyone to enjoy being alive.

    That is what true prosperity means.

    Not the accumulation of money and property.

    But the abundance of life itself.

    A Different Future Is Possible

    The novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity  describes a future civilization that has managed to create a world where everyone are fed and live healthy happy lives.

    It is not a manifesto. Nor is it a detailed blueprint explaining every step of how to get there or precisely how everything would work.

    It is a story meant to inspire humanity to imagine something fundamentally different.

    People no longer have to purchase the right to survive.

    They are free to contribute according to their abilities, interests, and willingness, while advanced technology helps provide the necessities of life.

    It is a vision of a world where nobody needs to be poor for somebody else to be rich.

    Where prosperity is measured by well-being rather than monetary wealth.

    And where sharing is not considered charity, but a natural part of belonging to one human family.

    I am not suggesting that such a transformation would be effortless.

    But I believe it is something humanity can choose to work toward.

    Because the obstacles are not merely technological.

    They are also embedded in how we think about resources, property, entitlement, and our responsibilities toward one another.

    And those are things we can change.

    The Hunger of Humanity

    We are more than eight billion human beings sharing one extraordinary planet.

    We have developed technologies that would have seemed miraculous only a century ago.

    We can communicate instantly across continents. We can explore other planets. We can automate increasingly complex tasks.

    Yet we have still not ensured that every human being has enough nutritious food to eat.

    What does that say about our priorities?

    Perhaps the greatest tragedy isn’t only that people are dying from hunger.

    It’s that the rest of us have learned to live with knowing it.

    But we don’t have to accept this as inevitable.

    We can imagine a different civilization.

    We can begin to build it.

    And we can recognize that nobody should have to earn the right to eat, drink clean water, or have a safe place to sleep.

    These should be unconditional foundations of human life.

    Because ultimately, the purpose of civilization should not be to maximize financial wealth.

    It should be to maximize life.

    A world without money that is not only possible to live in, but genuinely wonderful to live in. A world we might discover is the one we have wanted all along.

    And I don’t mean a moneyless society for a privileged few, while the rest of humanity continues struggling with poverty and financial insecurity.

    I mean a world without money for absolutely everyone.

    Because if we create abundance for some while leaving others behind, we have merely recreated the inequality we were trying to escape.

    The goal is not to build a paradise for a few.

    It is to make the whole Earth a paradise for everyone.

    Discover the story

  • We Have Finally Agreed

    We Have Finally Agreed

    For thousands of years, humanity fought over the planet we inhabit.

    Kings, emperors, dictators, despots and governments tried to conquer as much territory as possible. Nations formed alliances, broke alliances, invaded their neighbors, defended their borders, and sacrificed millions of lives in the pursuit of power, territory, resources, and security.

    And what did we achieve?

    War after war after war. Death after death. Destruction after destruction.

    We built civilizations, destroyed them, and built them again. We conquered territories, lost them, and fought to regain them. We drew borders across the planet, moved them through violence, and defended them with ever more sophisticated weapons.

    And for a very long time, we believed this was simply the way the world had to be.

    Until, at long last, we agreed.

    Enough was enough.

    The Fatigue of War

    Looking back at the early twenty-first century, the pattern was painfully familiar.

    Russia and Ukraine. Israel and Palestine. And countless other conflicts, large and small, across the planet.

    People killing people. Homes destroyed. Families torn apart. Children growing up without parents. Parents burying their children. Millions displaced, injured, traumatized, or permanently disabled.

    And for what?

    Territory? Resources? Political power? National pride? Security?

    War had become so familiar that many people regarded it as an inevitable part of human civilization.

    Every generation inherited the fears, resentments, territorial claims, and unfinished conflicts of previous generations.

    When one war ended, another seemed to begin. Sometimes the same conflict erupted again decades later, with new weapons, new leaders, and new generations of young people sent to fight.

    And when the fighting stopped, we rebuilt what we had destroyed.

    We buried our dead, cared for the wounded, negotiated new agreements, and prepared ourselves for the possibility of doing it all again.

    What an astonishing waste of human life, intelligence, energy, and resources.

    But perhaps the greatest tragedy was that we rarely questioned the foundation upon which this endless cycle rested.

    We argued about who was right and who was wrong, who had the legitimate claim, who had attacked first, and who had the right to defend themselves.

    And while these questions certainly mattered to those involved, they seldom brought us any closer to eliminating the underlying problem.

    The Illusion of Security

    For millennia, humanity pursued security through control.

    A ruler conquered territory to secure resources for his people. A nation expanded its borders to protect itself from potential enemies. Governments built armies, fortifications, and increasingly powerful weapons to defend what they considered theirs.

    But there was a fundamental contradiction in this approach.

    Whatever we conquered, we had to defend. And whatever we defended, someone else might eventually try to conquer.

    The more territory and resources we controlled, the more we had to protect.

    And when our neighbors saw us strengthening our defenses, they often perceived us as a threat. So they strengthened theirs.

    We responded by strengthening ours even further.

    And the cycle continued.

    This was known as the security dilemma.

    One nation’s attempt to increase its security could make another nation feel less secure, creating an escalating cycle of fear, competition, and military preparation.

    The tragedy was that both sides could genuinely believe they were acting defensively.

    Yet their combined actions made everyone less secure.

    We had mistaken control for security.

    And for thousands of years, we tried to solve the insecurity created by this arrangement through even greater control.

    We invented increasingly sophisticated weapons, established military alliances, built enormous defense industries, and devoted extraordinary amounts of human ingenuity to preparing for conflicts we hoped would never happen.

    But the underlying problem remained.

    We had divided the planet into possessions, and every possession represented something that might be taken away.

    Who Owned the Earth?

    There was a question we should have asked ourselves much earlier.

    Who actually owned the Earth?

    Who created the continents, the oceans, the mountains, the forests, the rivers, and the fertile soil?

    Certainly not the kings, emperors, governments, corporations, or individuals who claimed ownership of them throughout history.

    The Earth had existed for billions of years before humanity appeared.

    Yet we divided it into territories and declared that this piece belonged to one nation, that piece belonged to another, and countless smaller pieces belonged to individuals, corporations, and institutions.

    We turned the surface of our common home into a gigantic collection of possessions.

    And then we spent thousands of years fighting over those possessions.

    We even developed elaborate legal systems to determine who owned which pieces of land, who could extract which resources, and who had the right to exclude everyone else.

    A person could be born on Earth and still have no right to occupy a tiny piece of it without paying someone else.

    An entire nation could lack access to resources that existed abundantly elsewhere on the same planet.

    And people could become extraordinarily wealthy simply by controlling access to things that nature had provided.

    All because we had accepted the idea that the Earth could be owned.

    But was that ever anything more than a human agreement?

    And if we had agreed to divide the planet into possessions, couldn’t we simply agree to stop?

    We Finally Grew Up

    So, this was how we lived for millennia.

    We conquered, defended, competed, accumulated, threatened, negotiated, and fought.

    We called it civilization.

    We called it national security.

    We called it the natural order of things.

    But eventually, something changed.

    We began to recognize that our extraordinary technological development had not been accompanied by an equally extraordinary development in how we organized our lives together.

    We could explore other planets, manipulate matter at microscopic scales, develop artificial intelligence, and automate increasingly complex tasks.

    Yet we continued fighting over ownership of the planet on which we were born.

    And finally, humanity had enough.

    We grew up.

    Not because everyone suddenly became wise as God, infinitely generous, or free from disagreement.

    But because we finally recognized that we could not continue trying to solve the same fundamental problem with the same fundamental thinking.

    We needed to change the foundation itself.

    And so we did.

    We drew a line through history.

    Not to erase what had happened, or forget those who had suffered, but to declare that the old claims of ownership would no longer determine humanity’s future.

    We nullified the ancient assumption that land and natural resources could belong exclusively to nations, corporations, or individuals.

    We started again.

    As adults.

    We finally agreed.

    The Declaration of Earth

    The declaration was remarkably simple.

    Planet Earth, including all its land, waters, atmosphere, and natural resources, was declared unowned and recognized as the common heritage of all humanity.

    No nation could claim exclusive ownership of a territory.

    No corporation could claim ownership of the planet’s natural resources.

    No individual could claim a piece of Earth as private property to be sold  and traded. Instead, we agreed on becoming stewards of Earth, caring for the land we live on.

    We had already established a similar principle for the Moon decades earlier, when humanity agreed that no nation could appropriate it through claims of sovereignty.

    Now we extended that principle to our own planet.

    Earth was not something to be possessed owned.

    It was our common home.

    And with that declaration came a new responsibility.

    We were no longer competing owners of separate pieces of a planet.

    We became its collective stewards.

    Of course, the declaration did not instantly transform every aspect of civilization. There were enormous practical questions to resolve, existing systems to reorganize, and centuries of habits and assumptions to overcome.

    But the fundamental decision had been made.

    We were no longer working toward a world in which everyone could never own enough.

    We were creating a world in which nobody needed to own anything in order to live well.

    And that changed everything.

    From Ownership to Stewardship

    One of the first things we changed was our relationship with the natural world.

    Forests were no longer regarded as somebody’s property from which financial profit could be extracted. They were recognized as living ecosystems providing countless benefits to the planet.

    Agricultural land was cultivated to provide nutritious food while maintaining the health of the soil.

    Homes were provided for people to live in, rather than treated as financial assets to be accumulated.

    Minerals, energy, water, and other resources were managed intelligently, sustainably, and cooperatively.

    We no longer asked how much money could be made from a particular resource. Money ceased to exist.

    We asked what it could contribute to the well-being of life on Earth.

    And because ownership had been replaced by stewardship, the responsibility for managing resources was based on knowledge, competence, ecological understanding, and the needs of the communities they served.

    We developed cooperative councils at different levels, from local communities to global coordination, helping ensure that decisions reflected both local circumstances and the needs of the planet as a whole.

    No single person, government, corporation, or artificial intelligence was granted ownership or absolute authority over Earth’s resources.

    We had learned enough from our history to understand the dangers of concentrating power.

    The End of the Monetary System

    Once we had abandoned ownership, another ancient institution lost its purpose.

    Money.

    For thousands of years, money had been the principal mechanism through which we distributed access to resources.

    Those with the greatest purchasing power could obtain the most, while those with little or no money often struggled to acquire even the necessities of life.

    This had produced a civilization in which enormous quantities of useful resources remained inaccessible to people who needed them, simply because they could not afford to pay.

    But now we had changed the underlying principle.

    Resources were no longer commodities to be owned and traded.

    They were part of our common inheritance, managed for the benefit of everyone.

    So we reorganized production and distribution around actual needs, available resources, ecological limits, and human preferences.

    Advanced artificial intelligence helped us understand resource availability, forecast demand, coordinate production, and minimize waste.

    Robotics and automation took over much of the repetitive, dangerous, and physically demanding work that humans had previously performed.

    And instead of competing to sell more and more products, we cooperated to produce what people actually needed and wanted, as sustainably and efficiently as possible.

    We no longer had to ask whether providing something was financially profitable.

    We asked whether it was useful, desirable, and physically possible.

    And as our productive capabilities expanded, we were able to provide increasingly abundant access to housing, nutritious food, clean water, energy, healthcare, education, transportation, communication, and countless other goods and services.

    Money and trading gradually became obsolete.

    Not because we had outlawed generosity or exchange between people, but because we had developed a far more direct way of sharing the abundance of our planet.

    What Happened to Security?

    Perhaps the most extraordinary transformation was in our understanding of security.

    Remember the security dilemma?

    For thousands of years, nations had tried to protect themselves by accumulating military power and controlling territory.

    But now the foundation of that dilemma had changed.

    Why would one community invade another to secure resources when those resources were already part of a globally coordinated system serving everyone?

    Why fight to control fertile land when food production was optimized and organized cooperatively?

    Why conquer territory when everyone had access to housing, healthcare, education, energy, and the necessities of life, regardless of where they were born?

    Human Disagreements

    The old incentives for territorial conquest had largely disappeared.

    Of course, human disagreements did not vanish.

    We still had different opinions, personalities, desires, traditions, and ways of life.

    And we still needed ways to resolve conflicts, protect people from harm, and address destructive behavior.

    But we no longer organized entire societies around the expectation that other societies might try to seize their possessions.

    The enormous military establishments of the past gave way to cooperative systems of protection, emergency response, disaster prevention, and peaceful conflict resolution.

    The human ingenuity once devoted to developing increasingly destructive weapons was redirected toward preserving and improving life.

    And we discovered something remarkable.

    Security no longer depended on how much of the Earth we could control. It depended on how well we could care for one another.

    Instead of securing the Earth against one another, we secured the Earth for one another.

    What Did We Achieve?

    Peace.

    Not the fragile peace that had once depended on military deterrence, political alliances, and the constant threat of retaliation or invasion.

    But a far more durable peace built upon shared access, cooperation, and the removal of many of the incentives that had driven humanity into conflict.

    Global Prosperity

    Not the prosperity of a wealthy minority surrounded by people struggling to survive, but a civilization in which everyone could benefit from global resources, humanity’s collective knowledge, technology, and productive capacity.

    Freedom

    Not merely the freedom to compete for money and possessions, but the freedom to live without the constant fear of poverty, unemployment, homelessness, or financial ruin.

    And perhaps most importantly, we gained something that had been extraordinarily difficult to achieve in the old world.

    A Common Purpose

    Instead of competing to maximize the wealth and power of separate nations, corporations, and individuals, we worked together to improve the conditions for life on Earth.

    We restored damaged ecosystems, regenerated forests, cleaned polluted rivers and oceans, and developed more sustainable ways of producing everything we needed.

    We designed cities around the well-being of their inhabitants rather than the profitability of real estate.

    We created communities where people could contribute according to their abilities, interests, and passions, without having to sell their labor merely to survive.

    And we began to measure our progress not by financial growth, but by the actual quality of life we were creating.

    How healthy were our ecosystems?

    How well were people living?

    How much freedom did they have to pursue their interests?

    How effectively were we using our resources?

    How much suffering could we prevent?

    How much beauty, knowledge, creativity, and joy could we bring into the world?

    These became the questions that guided our civilization.

    And the answers continued to improve.

    Welcome to the New World

    Looking back now, it seems almost incredible that it took humanity so long to arrive at such a simple realization.

    We did not need to own the Earth in order to enjoy everything it had to offer.

    We did not need to compete for its resources when we could cooperate in managing them.

    And we did not need to fight over the planet when we could share it.

    We had spent thousands of years trying to conquer the world.

    But our greatest achievement came when we finally stopped trying.

    We did not unite Earth under a single ruler or empire.

    We simply recognized that it was our common home, and that everyone deserved to benefit from it.

    It took us a few thousand years to grow up. 

    But we finally did.

    Our New Friend

    And now, we have a rather unusual new friend among us.

    Mr. Benjamin Michaels.

    Our bewildered billionaire, who recently woke up after spending a hundred years in cryonic preservation!

    As you can imagine, it has been quite a shock for him.

    In his former world, ownership was everything. The more you owned, the more powerful and secure you were considered to be.

    Benjamin was very good at that game. In fact, he was one of the richest people on the planet.

    And now?

    Well, now he has awakened in a world where nobody owns anything!

    No money. No buying or selling. No financial empires to build or protect.

    Everything is shared, and everyone has access to what they need.

    You can probably imagine his confusion.

    For him, it is almost as though the entire world has gone mad.

    For us, of course, it is simply normal life.

    But we understand him.

    After all, he spent his entire previous life learning how to succeed in a system that no longer exists.

    It takes time to adjust to something like that.

    Fortunately, he has me.

    Aweena.

    His personal guide, showing him all the ins and outs of this new world.

    And believe me, there is quite a lot to show him!

    He has been here for a while now, and I think he is finally beginning to adjust.

    We are all cheering for him, doing whatever we can to help.

    After all, imagine falling asleep as a billionaire and waking up in a world where nobody owns anything!

    Welcome to the New World, Benjamin!

    Oh, and one more thing.

    If you like, I can give you a guided tour as well.

    Just read Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, a book written about our world a hundred years ago.

    You can find it HERE.

    I’ll be waiting for you!

    — Aweena, 2115

  • The Master of Disguise

    The Master of Disguise

    Politics here. Climate change there. Poverty, inequality, corruption, unemployment, immigration, taxation, and war. Everywhere we look, people are arguing about the problems of our world. And almost everywhere, money is involved.

    Money here. Money there. Taxes. Not enough money. Too much money. Money in the wrong hands. Money that must be raised, borrowed, invested, redistributed, or saved.

    For thousands of years, humanity has become so accustomed to money that we barely notice its presence anymore.

    But what if we have been looking at our problems from the wrong perspective all along?

    What if the greatest problem is something so familiar that we have become almost incapable of recognizing it?

    The Surface

    Every day, millions of people discuss the problems of our civilization. On television, in newspapers, on social media, and around dinner tables, we argue about what is wrong with the world and who is responsible.

    And there is certainly no shortage of people to blame.

    Politicians. Billionaires. Corporations. Governments. Immigrants. Environmentalists. Capitalists. Socialists. The rich. The poor.

    Everyone seems to have an explanation, and many explanations are remarkably simple.

    The politicians are corrupt. The billionaires are greedy. Climate change is a hoax designed to collect more taxes. Immigrants are taking our jobs. The poor are lazy. The rich are exploiting everyone else.

    Simple explanations for enormously complicated problems.

    And people love them.

    Why? Because they are easy to understand. They require very little investigation, and they often confirm something we already believe.

    We read a headline, recognize something that fits our worldview, and conclude that we have understood the issue.

    Why bother digging any deeper?

    The Simplification

    Recently, I came across a discussion on social media about climate change. The original newspaper article was considerably more nuanced than the dramatic headline being shared.

    THE CLIMATE FIGHT IS DEAD

    But the headline was enough.

    People immediately began arguing about taxation, political agendas, and whether climate change was even real.

    The complexity of the original article had largely disappeared. What remained was a collection of simplified arguments, many of which seemed to have little to do with the actual condition of our planet.

    And this is hardly unique to climate change.

    We see it everywhere.

    Complicated economic and social problems are reduced to slogans, accusations, and convenient explanations. The easier an argument is to understand, the easier it becomes to repeat.

    And repetition can make an argument feel true, even when the evidence is weak.

    This doesn’t necessarily mean people are unintelligent. Sometimes they simply don’t want to spend the time and effort required to investigate something more deeply.

    After all, if an explanation already seems convincing, why question it?

    But perhaps we should.

    Digging Deeper

    Fortunately, some people do investigate.

    Journalists, researchers, whistleblowers, and ordinary citizens sometimes refuse to accept the explanations presented to them.

    They dig.

    And occasionally, they uncover something spectacular.

    Corruption. Fraud. Bribery. Embezzlement. Tax evasion. Secret financial arrangements. Politicians accepting money in exchange for favors. Corporations deliberately deceiving the public to protect their profits.

    And people love these revelations!

    Another scandal! Another corrupt politician exposed! Another billionaire caught cheating! Another corporation forced to pay an enormous fine!

    The newspapers have a field day. Social media explodes with outrage. People demand justice.

    And sometimes justice is served.

    The guilty are punished, new regulations are introduced, and everyone congratulates themselves on having uncovered yet another rotten part of society.

    But have we really reached the bottom?

    Or have we merely discovered another layer?

    The Wrongdoing

    Notice something interesting about most financial scandals.

    The outrage is generally directed at people who have used money in the wrong way.

    They have broken the rules of the monetary system.

    They have stolen money, hidden money, manipulated money, or used money to gain influence they were not supposed to have.

    And naturally, we want them stopped and punished.

    But what happens next?

    We introduce new laws, stricter regulations, greater transparency, and stronger enforcement.

    In other words, we try to prevent people from misusing money so that the monetary system can continue functioning as intended.

    We investigate the people who break the rules of the system, but rarely question the system itself.

    And even when nobody breaks the law, the system can still reward activities that damage the environment, encourage  overconsumption, or place financial interests ahead of human needs.

    Perfectly Legal

    An activity can be perfectly legal, highly profitable, and socially and environmentally destructive at the same time.

    This is where the investigation becomes particularly interesting.

    Because perhaps the greatest problem isn’t how certain people misuse money.

    Perhaps it is what money makes us do even when we use it exactly as intended.

    The Political Circus

    And then, of course, we have the politicians.

    The stars of the greatest show on Earth.

    Every day, they provide us with something new to discuss. Another outrageous statement. Another political scandal. Another broken promise. Another election. Another politician who supposedly knows how to fix everything.

    And the audience is captivated.

    We cheer for our favorites, ridicule their opponents, argue with friends and strangers, and convince ourselves that everything will be better once the right people are in charge.

    But in charge of what, exactly?

    The monetary system.

    Regardless of which political party wins an election, the fundamental structure generally remains the same. Governments must balance budgets, stimulate economic growth, attract investments, create jobs, collect taxes, and manage public debt.

    Some politicians want higher taxes. Others want lower taxes. Some want more government spending. Others want less. Some want to redistribute wealth, while others want to encourage its accumulation.

    And these differences can have very real consequences for people’s lives.

    But notice what they have in common.

    They are all arguing about how to operate the same underlying system.

    Almost nobody is questioning whether we need that system in the first place. And whether it is actually serving humanity and Earth towards the best possible civilization we can have.

    And this is where the political circus becomes such a convenient distraction.

    While millions of people argue about the performers on the stage, the machinery behind the stage continues operating.

    The audience becomes so preoccupied with deciding which politician is the hero and which is the villain that it rarely questions the theater itself.

    And perhaps that is the greatest irony of modern politics.

    We believe we are deciding the future of civilization by choosing who should manage the monetary system, while the possibility of replacing that system remains almost entirely outside the discussion.

    The politicians don’t even need to be consciously distracting us.

    The spectacle does that perfectly well on its own.

    The Demon

    And somewhere beneath the stage, our little demon is smiling.

    “Wonderful! Keep watching the clowns. Don’t look behind the curtain.”

    The Invisible Master

    Imagine a master of disguise who has been living among us for thousands of years.

    He has become so familiar that nobody suspects him anymore.

    He is everywhere.

    In our homes, our workplaces, our minds, our governments, our schools, our hospitals, and our relationships.

    He influences what we produce, what we consume, where we live, what we do for a living, and what opportunities we have.

    He determines which projects are considered viable and which are abandoned.

    He can make destroying a forest seem perfectly sane in the light of profit while protecting it is considered too expensive.

    He can make food inaccessible to hungry people, even when an abundance of food exists.

    He can leave houses empty while people sleep on the streets.

    And he can make technological advancements that should liberate humanity appear threatening because they might eliminate people’s jobs and incomes.

    Yet almost nobody recognizes him as the underlying problem.

    Because he has disguised himself as something indispensable.

    Something natural.

    Something civilization supposedly cannot function without.

    His name?

    The Monetary System.

    The Perfect Disguise

    The monetary system has accomplished something extraordinary.

    It has convinced us that we need money to solve problems that was created by money in the first place.

    We need money to fight poverty.

    We need money to protect the environment.

    We need money to feed the hungry.

    We need money to provide housing.

    We need money to develop technology that could make all these things easier.

    And when there isn’t enough money, we conclude that these things simply cannot be done.

    But consider what this actually means.

    We live on a planet with an abundance of physical resources, knowledge, technology, and billions of capable human beings.

    The planet doesn’t demand payment for any of its resources. Nature doesn’t issue invoices.

    We have created the prices, the financial obligations, the ownership structures, and the rules governing access.

    And then we have become so accustomed to those arrangements that we confuse them with reality itself.

    A shortage of money is not necessarily a shortage of resources.

    A lack of profitability is not necessarily a lack of usefulness.

    And something that cannot be afforded is not necessarily something that cannot be accomplished.

    These are fundamentally different things.

    Yet we routinely treat them as though they were the same.

    That is the disguise.

    The Smiling Demon

    Now imagine our master of disguise as a little demon sitting far beneath the surface of civilization.

    Above him, humanity is arguing furiously.

    Politicians are blaming other politicians. Billionaires are blaming governments. Governments are blaming economic circumstances. Citizens are blaming corporations. Corporations are blaming regulations.

    Investigators are digging everywhere, exposing corruption and wrongdoing.

    And every time someone uncovers another scandal, the demon smiles.

    “Excellent! They’ve found another villain.”

    The public becomes outraged. The guilty are condemned. New laws are passed.

    And the demon smiles again.

    “Wonderful! They’re fixing my rules.”

    Then everyone returns to arguing about taxes, budgets, prices, profits, and economic growth.

    And the demon laughs.

    “They’ll never think to question me.”

    Of course, there is no actual demon.

    The monetary system has no consciousness, no evil intentions, and no secret plan.

    It is a human invention.

    And that is precisely what makes the disguise so remarkable.

    We have created a system that now appears to govern its creators.

    The Real Question

    What would happen if we continued digging?

    Not merely into the corruption, the greed, the inequality, or the environmental destruction, but into the economic structure that influences so much of human behavior?

    What if we stopped asking only how money should be distributed and started asking why we need money to distribute resources at all?

    What if we stopped asking how to create enough jobs and started asking how technology could free us from the necessity of working for survival?

    What if we stopped asking how to make environmental protection profitable and started organizing production and consumption according to ecological reality?

    What if we stopped treating the Earth as property to be bought and sold, and started treating it as a shared home to be cared for?

    These questions lead somewhere very different from the usual political arguments.

    They lead toward a resource-based civilization organized around collaboration, sharing, and stewardship rather than money, trading, and ownership.

    A civilization in which access to goods and services is based on needs and available resources rather than purchasing power.

    A civilization in which artificial intelligence and automation help humanity manage resources intelligently, reduce waste, and provide a high standard of living for everyone.

    Not a world without challenges, disagreements, or difficult decisions.

    But a world in which we no longer have to make everything financially profitable before we consider it worth doing.

    The Unmasking

    For thousands of years, humanity has lived with monetary systems in one form or another.

    We have changed currencies, governments, laws, institutions, and economic policies.

    We have overthrown rulers, fought revolutions, exposed corruption, and demanded fairer distributions of wealth.

    Yet the fundamental assumption has largely survived.

    That money is necessary.

    That trading is necessary.

    That ownership of the Earth’s resources is necessary.

    But what if these are not eternal truths?

    What if they are merely conventions that humanity has become accustomed to?

    And what if our rapidly advancing technology is finally making it possible to organize civilization in an entirely different way?

    Perhaps the master of disguise is not quite as invisible as he once was.

    Perhaps some people have begun to recognize him.

    Perhaps they have started asking questions that go deeper than the familiar arguments about who should have more money, who should pay more taxes, and who should control the economy.

    And perhaps, for the first time in human history, we are approaching a point where we have the technological capacity to seriously consider leaving the monetary system behind.

    Deeply Embedded

    The greatest disguise is not one that makes something disappear.

    It is one that makes something so familiar that nobody thinks to question its existence.

    Money has become so deeply embedded in our understanding of civilization that we struggle to imagine civilization without it.

    We see the corruption. We see the inequality. We see the environmental destruction. We see the poverty, the competition, and the conflicts.

    And we keep trying to solve these problems within the very structure that helps perpetuate them.

    But perhaps the time has come to look beneath the surface.

    To question not merely the people who operate the system, but the system itself.

    Because the monetary system is not a law of nature.

    We invented it.

    And we can choose to replace it.

    The master of disguise has been hiding in plain sight all along.

    But a disguise only works as long as nobody recognizes it.

    ⸻

    What might happen when humanity finally begins to see beyond money?

    The novel, Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, explores precisely that possibility through the story of Benjamin Michaels, a bewildered billionaire who awakens after a hundred years to discover a civilization that has abandoned money, trading, and ownership in favor of collaboration, sharing, and stewardship.

    Discover the story

  • The Starting Point

    The Starting Point

    What is the price of a sunrise?

    With the rapid development of AI, robotics and automation, we may be approaching a transition to a moneyless, resource-based world much faster than we think. 

    That makes it increasingly important to understand how we would relate to value without money and prices. Because if we are to embrace such a future, we must first question some of the assumptions we have grown up with.

    So.

    How do we teach children the real value of things without money?

    An old friend asked me this recently.

    He is genuinely interested in the kind of moneyless, resource-based world I describe in Waking Up, but this question bothered him.

    Without money, how will children understand what things are really worth?

    It sounds like an obvious problem.

    Until we go back to the starting point.

    Before Price

    Long before there were humans, there was Earth.

    There were forests, rivers, oceans, fertile soil, minerals, animals, plants, sunlight and rain.

    Were they valuable?

    Of course.

    But none of them had a price.

    There was no price attached to a river. No monetary value printed on an apple. No deed declaring who owned a mountain. No border drawn across the landscape. No currency with which one animal could purchase access to water from another.

    The world had value before it had prices.

    Value Precedes Price

    Then humans arrived.

    Over thousands of years, we developed increasingly sophisticated systems of territory, ownership, trade, accounting and money. We measured the land, divided it into pieces, established ownership claims and eventually attached monetary values to almost everything that could be bought and sold.

    And because every one of us is now born into that world, it feels like the natural starting point.

    But it isn’t.

    It is the starting point we inherited.

    The Child

    Now consider another starting point.

    A child is born.

    What does that child know about money?

    Nothing.

    What does it know about price?

    Nothing.

    What does it know about ownership, wages, markets, profit, debt or trade?

    Nothing.

    And yet almost immediately the child experiences value.

    The child becomes hungry.

    Mother’s milk has value.

    The child becomes cold.

    Warmth has value.

    The child becomes frightened.

    The embrace of a parent has value.

    Attention has value. Sleep has value. Safety has value.

    Later, play has value. Friendship has value. Exploration has value. Particular foods have value. Particular people have value.

    None of this has to be measured.

    The child experiences it.

    Perhaps this is what value fundamentally is at the human level:

    appreciation.

    The Kitten

    We can see something similar throughout nature.

    A kitten doesn’t know the price of its mother’s milk.

    It doesn’t need to.

    It becomes hungry, suckles, and its hunger is satisfied.

    Later its mother may take it into the world where it gradually learns how to hunt, where to find safety, what represents danger and what satisfies its needs.

    A mouse has value to the cat.

    Water has value.

    Shelter has value.

    The mother’s presence has value.

    But the cat doesn’t need to decide that one mouse is worth ten dollars while a rat is worth twenty.

    Its world contains value without monetary valuation. Just like with a human child.

    Humans have an extraordinary capacity that the cat does not possess to anything like the same degree. We can abstract, count, categorize and measure the world around us.

    That ability is enormously useful.

    But somewhere along the way, measurement became intertwined with ownership, exchange and money.

    We began confusing the measurement with the value itself.

    Appreciation

    Imagine that you love strawberries but haven’t tasted one for six months.

    Someone offers you one.

    You smell it. You bite into it. It is perfectly ripe and tastes absolutely wonderful.

    You appreciate that strawberry enormously.

    How much?

    Five euros?

    Fifty?

    Five hundred?

    The question quickly becomes absurd.

    The strawberry might have a market price, but the price cannot measure your appreciation of eating it. Value is not price.

    And if somebody gave you the strawberry for free, its price to you was zero.

    Was its value therefore zero?

    Obviously not.

    Now imagine that you are completely stuffed after a huge meal and someone offers you another strawberry.

    You might not want it at all.

    Same strawberry.

    Same market price.

    Completely different value to you.

    Or imagine that strawberries and pears are both freely available.

    You love strawberries and hate pears.

    Both have a price of zero.

    Are they therefore equally valuable to you?

    Of course not.

    You walk past the pears and take the strawberries.

    Value is still there.

    No price is required.

    Our appreciation depends upon our needs, preferences, circumstances and experiences. It cannot be adequately expressed by attaching a monetary number to the object.

    The Rag Doll

    Perhaps children demonstrate this better than anyone.

    Imagine a child has an old rag doll.

    It is faded and worn. One eye is missing. It has been repaired several times. Nobody would pay much for it. If anything.

    But the child has slept with that doll every night for five years.

    It has been there when the child was frightened. It came along on holidays. It has a name. Memories are attached to it.

    To the market, the doll may be almost worthless.

    To the child, it may be irreplaceable. If lost it may be a crisis for the child.

    Then an adult says:

    “Why are you so upset? It’s only a cheap old doll. We’ll buy you a new one.”

    Only a Cheap Toy

    Think about what we have just done.

    We have taken the child’s immense experienced appreciation and placed our monetary measurement above it.

    The new doll might cost €20.

    The old one might be worth €1 on a market.

    But which one has greater value to the child?

    The child already knows.

    We are the ones confusing the issue. Not the child. 

    Learning Price

    Children don’t have to be taught value.

    They have to be taught price.

    And why do we teach them price?

    Because we have created a monetary society in which they need to understand it.

    They have to learn that €100 provides more purchasing power than €10. They have to learn that their parents cannot necessarily afford something. Eventually they have to understand wages, bills, rent, bank accounts, debt and all the other rules required to function within the system they were born into.

    Price is therefore useful information inside a monetary system.

    But that doesn’t make price the same thing as value.

    When we tell a child:

    “Be careful with that. It was expensive.”

    we are teaching something subtly different from:

    “Be careful with that. Appreciate it and take care of it.”

    And when we say:

    “It’s only a cheap toy.”

    we may be teaching something worse:

    that low price means low value.

    But the child with the rag doll knows that isn’t true.

    Real Value

    Many of the greatest values in a child’s life are already priceless.

    The attention of a parent.

    Friendship.

    Feeling safe.

    Being loved.

    Playing.

    Learning.

    Belonging.

    Nature.

    A favorite toy.

    A bedtime story.

    We don’t need to tell a child the monetary price of a parent’s attention for the child to appreciate it.

    There isn’t one.

    We even say that we pay attention, but no money changes hands.

    The experience itself has value.

    So perhaps the question is not:

    “How will we teach children value without money?”

    Perhaps it is:

    Why did we begin teaching children that price tells them value?

    Maybe we should rather ask:

    Why did we invent money at all and then tell our children money is value?

    What We Measure

    A resource-based economy would not mean that humanity suddenly stopped measuring things.

    Quite the opposite.

    We would still use calculation in kind.

    We would measure how much water we have.

    How much grain.

    How much electricity.

    How many homes.

    How much steel.

    How many strawberries.

    We could measure soil health, ecological regeneration, production capacity, consumption and demand with extraordinary precision.

    Suppose we have 100 strawberries and 100 people would like strawberries.

    That is useful information.

    There is temporary scarcity, and we may have to share them fairly.

    But why must we conclude that scarcity means the strawberries now have to cost €10 each?

    We don’t need a price to understand the physical situation.

    We need to know:

    How many strawberries do we have?

    How many people want them?

    Can we sustainably grow more?

    If demand is consistently greater than supply, we can increase production where resources and ecological conditions allow.

    If there is a temporary shortage, we can share what is available fairly.

    Scarcity requires intelligent allocation.

    It does not require a price.

    Shared Access

    This is where the starting point matters again.

    Today, the strawberry field probably belongs to somebody.

    The land belongs to somebody.

    The equipment belongs to somebody.

    The harvest belongs to somebody.

    Other people gain access through money.

    Now imagine starting somewhere else.

    Ownership has been transformed into stewardship.

    The resources of Earth are regarded as our common inheritance rather than enormous unequal pieces belonging exclusively to different individuals and institutions.

    We still measure everything necessary to manage those resources intelligently.

    But we begin with a different question.

    Not:

    Who owns the strawberries and what can they be sold for?

    But:

    How many strawberries do we have, how many do people want, and how can we sustainably provide enough?

    If there is abundance, take what you need and want.

    If there is scarcity, share fairly while addressing the physical reason for the shortage.

    The objective is not to produce the maximum possible amount of everything regardless of how much we destroy in the process.

    It is to produce enough to satisfy human needs and reasonable wants, maintain appropriate reserves, minimize waste and remain within ecological limits.

    Enough For All

    Imagine again those 100 strawberries and 100 people.

    If everyone wants one, everyone can have one.

    If twenty people don’t like strawberries, there may be more for those who do.

    If demand rises dramatically, the system detects it and, where sustainable, grows more. After all, we don’t absolutely need strawberries to survive. 

    We should be able to adapt and share what we have until more strawberries are ripe.

    Nobody gains a greater right to the strawberries merely because they have more money.

    Nobody owns the field and can withhold its harvest simply because it is their property.

    Everyone begins with an equal right of access, while actual distribution responds intelligently to need, preference and availability.

    That requires measurement.

    But it doesn’t require monetary valuation.

    Measure the resource, not the appreciation.

    We can measure that you ate 300 grams of strawberries.

    We cannot meaningfully measure how wonderful they tasted to you.

    We can measure how much food a child needs.

    We cannot put a price on the satisfaction of hunger.

    We can measure the materials in a rag doll.

    We cannot measure the child’s love for it.

    Two Worlds

    And so we arrive at two starting points.

    The first is the planet itself.

    Earth existed before ownership, money and prices.

    Its resources already had value because they supported life.

    Then humans created an abstract layer of ownership, trade and monetary valuation and eventually began treating that layer as though it were reality itself.

    The second starting point is every child.

    A child enters the world without understanding money or price.

    But the child already experiences value.

    Then we teach the child our abstract layer.

    And eventually the child may begin to see the world through the same monetary lens that we do.

    Starting Again

    What if we didn’t?

    What if we taught children appreciation instead of price?

    Where does your food come from?

    What did nature require to produce it?

    How much of it do we have?

    Does somebody else need some too?

    Can it be repaired rather than thrown away?

    Can somebody else use it when you no longer need it?

    What happens to the environment when we produce it?

    How can we care for it?

    These are lessons about value.

    A child doesn’t need to hear:

    “Don’t waste those strawberries. They were expensive.”

    The child can learn:

    “Don’t waste those strawberries. They required soil, water, sunlight, nutrients, pollination and care to grow. Other people would like some too. Take what you want, enjoy them, and don’t take more than you’ll use.”

    That is not a world without value.

    It may be a world with a much deeper understanding of it.

    The Starting Point

    My friend’s question was:

    How do we teach children the real value of things without money?

    Perhaps the answer is that we don’t need money to do it at all.

    Children experience value before they understand price.

    Human beings experienced value before we invented money.

    And we still do. There are many things we value because they are priceless. A sunrise. A sunset. The beauty of nature. The love of our children. 

    Life itself experienced value, in the form of needs, preferences and survival, long before humans existed.

    The world was valuable before we priced it.

    And a child knows that a beloved rag doll is valuable before an adult tells them it is cheap.

    Maybe we have had the question backwards.

    Perhaps our task is not to teach children value.

    Perhaps our task is to avoid teaching them not to confuse value with price.

    We still need measurement.

    We still need calculation.

    We still need to know what resources exist, where they are, how quickly they regenerate, how much people need and want, and how we can distribute them sustainably and fairly.

    But none of that requires us to put a monetary price on the experience of being alive.

    Value precedes price.

    It always did.

    And perhaps if we want to build a world based on stewardship, abundance, sharing and intelligent resource management, that is where we should start again.

    At the starting point. 

    A Unique Opportunity

    The bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels is given a unique opportunity to experience this value when he wakes up again after 100 years of cryonic sleep trying to escape his cancer in the novel 

    Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, whichis a novel that explores a future in which trade and ownership have given way to stewardship, shared abundance and intelligent resource management. And where value is no longer quantified in the form of money. He hoped to wake up again to expand his empire, but instead he have to learn the real value of the world…

    Discover the story

  • The Constitutional Contradiction

    The Constitutional Contradiction

    The monetary system may be digging its own grave.

    Recently, Elon Musk responded to a post about wealth creation(eat the rich) with a simple warning:

    “The problem is that after they ‘eat the rich’, they will starve.”

    Someone responded by turning his argument around: the rich do not feed society. Workers do. If the rich vanished, work would continue. But without workers, what exactly would the rich have left to profit from?

    There is an extraordinary irony here.

    Elon Musk is building the technology that may actually make the workers vanish.

    Not the people themselves.

    But the need for their labor.

    The Workers

    For centuries, workers have been at the center of the monetary economy.

    They work.

    They receive wages.

    They spend those wages.

    Companies receive that money as revenue.

    Governments tax wages, employment and consumption and use that revenue to finance society.

    Then the cycle begins again.

    Workers are therefore not merely a cost to businesses. They are also the customers who buy what businesses produce and an important part of the tax base supporting governments.

    The OECD describes labor taxes—including income taxes, social-security contributions and payroll taxes—as a significant source of government revenue across its member countries. It also explicitly recognizes automation and AI as structural changes that may affect those tax bases. The system rewards efficiency. 

    Now introduce the robot.

    The Robot

    The robot doesn’t need a salary.

    It doesn’t pay personal income tax.

    It doesn’t need a pension.

    It doesn’t go shopping after work.

    It doesn’t take its family to a restaurant.

    It doesn’t buy a Tesla.

    Yet the company replacing the worker with that robot has a perfectly rational reason for doing so.

    The robot can potentially work longer, produce more, make fewer mistakes and become cheaper over time.

    From the perspective of an individual company, this can make perfect economic sense:

    Reduce labor. Reduce costs. Increase productivity. Increase profit.

    But what happens when everybody does it?

    Suddenly we encounter something much bigger than unemployment.

    We encounter a contradiction within the structure of the monetary system itself.

    The Contradiction

    The system itself rewards companies for eliminating human labor while simultaneously depending heavily on income generated through human labor to maintain purchasing power in order to keep the system running.

    That is the constitutional contradiction.

    Not constitutional in the political sense, but in the deeper meaning of the word: a contradiction in how the system itself is constituted.

    Every individual company has an incentive to be more efficient: to automate.

    But if automation eventually succeeds beyond our wildest dreams, who buys everything?

    The machines can produce a million cars.

    Wonderful.

    Who buys them?

    The machines can build houses.

    Fantastic.

    Who pays for them?

    The machines can grow food, manufacture clothes, transport products, construct infrastructure and provide services.

    Amazing.

    But robots don’t receive wages.

    And robots don’t go shopping.

    The Taxes

    Then there is another problem.

    Governments are deeply connected to the same employment structure.

    Workers pay income taxes and social-security contributions. Employers make employment-related contributions. Workers then spend their remaining income, generating VAT and other consumption taxes.

    Remove enough paid human labor and governments may have to rethink where a substantial part of their revenue comes from.

    Government Revenues

    This isn’t merely speculation about an obscure tax problem. The OECD has specifically warned that automation could affect government revenues if labor-tax bases erode, particularly because many countries rely heavily on taxes connected to labor.

    Of course governments can respond.

    Tax corporations more.

    Tax capital.

    Tax automated production.

    Create new forms of taxation.

    Redistribute the proceeds.

    Perhaps use some of that revenue to finance Universal Basic Income, which ironically is used to pay for products produced by the machines that made them unemployed in the first place.

    Or, as Elon Musk prefers to call his envisioned future, Universal High Income. Musk has repeatedly argued that AI and robotics could eventually create enormous abundance while making conventional work optional.

    But this raises another problem.

    If human employment keeps disappearing, governments lose much of the very tax revenues upon which redistribution currently depends. Taxes would increasingly have to be shifted toward the companies, capital and automated productive systems where the remaining monetary income accumulates.

    We would then be taxing the automated economy in order to give people money so that they could buy what the automated economy produced without them. Money itself becomes eroded and more and more pointless.

    At some point we might reasonably ask:

    Why are we keeping the money in the middle at all?

    The Grave

    This is what makes the present moment in human history so fascinating.

    The monetary system is not necessarily being destroyed by revolutionaries standing outside the gates.

    It may be undermining  its own foundation by following its internal logic:

    • Competition demands greater efficiency
    • Greater efficiency demands automation
    • Automation reduces the need for labor
    • Reduced labor can reduce wage income
    • Reduced wage income can reduce purchasing power

    And reduced employment can weaken traditional tax bases.

    The system is, in a sense, digging its own grave.

    Not because somebody planned it.

    Because everybody is doing exactly what the system tells them to do. 

    Increase efficiency.

    The Fear

    And yet, for many people, this doesn’t feel like liberation. 

    It feels terrifying.

    If AI and robots takes our jobs, we may lose our income, our security and the system we have depended upon all our lives. Money has become so deeply connected to our existence that imagining a world without it can feel like imagining a world without security itself.

    But does money actually secure our existence?

    Money doesn’t feed us. Food does. Money doesn’t shelter us. Homes do. Money doesn’t produce the things we need. Resources, knowledge, technology and human ingenuity do.

    Money is the system we currently use to gain access to them.

    Perhaps the fear is understandable precisely because we have confused the two for so long. Resources and money. They are not the same.

    And perhaps it is finally time to wean ourselves from that misconception.

    Liberation

    We’ve seen technological revolutions before.

    Again and again, machines have replaced human labor.

    And every time, we have celebrated increased productivity.

    We call machines labor-saving devices.

    But there has always been something strange about that expression.

    Whose labor did they save?

    If a machine eliminated your exhausting repetitive job but your survival depended upon the wage from that job, the machine didn’t necessarily make you feel liberated.

    You lost your income.

    You had to find another job.

    Technology liberated humanity from one form of work while the economic system continued requiring us to work with something else.

    Perhaps AI and robotics are finally bringing that contradiction to its conclusion.

    Perhaps the ultimate purpose of labor-saving technology is not simply to save labor.

    Perhaps it is to save all humans from compulsory labor.

    True Freedom

    Imagine that machines really can do most of the work we don’t want to do.

    They grow the food.

    Build the houses.

    Manufacture the products.

    Maintain infrastructure.

    Transport resources.

    Recycle materials.

    AI helps coordinate production and distribution according to real human needs and real available resources.

    What exactly have we lost?

    Jobs?

    Or have we gained something extraordinary?

    Freedom.

    Not the freedom to choose which employer we sell our time to.

    Not the freedom to compete for enough money to survive.

    Not the freedom to spend our lives earning access to the products our machines can already produce.

    Something much more fundamental.

    The freedom to live.

    The freedom to create.

    The freedom to learn.

    The freedom to care for others.

    The freedom to explore.

    The freedom to contribute because we want to contribute.

    The freedom to ask, perhaps for the first time:

    What would I actually like to do with my life?

    The Choice

    And that brings us back to Elon Musk.

    He warns that if we “eat the rich,” we may eventually starve.

    But perhaps that is asking the wrong question.

    What happens when nobody needs to eat anybody?

    What happens when machines can produce enough food for everyone?

    When robots can build enough homes?

    When automated systems can manufacture what we need?

    When AI can help us manage resources intelligently?

    What happens when human labor is no longer the foundation upon which material abundance depends?

    Humanity hasn’t suddenly become poor.

    Quite the opposite.

    We may have become richer than at any point in history.

    Yet if access to that abundance still depends upon obtaining money through work that society no longer needs us to perform, we will have created one of the strangest situations imaginable.

    We will have developed the technology to liberate humanity while maintaining an economic structure that prevents us from experiencing the liberation.

    Maybe AI and robotics aren’t merely threatening the monetary system.

    Maybe they are revealing that we are beginning to outgrow it.

    Earth Constitution

    But technology will not make the final decision for us.

    However far AI and robotics advance, humanity will still have to decide what kind of civilization we want to create with them.

    Perhaps nations could eventually come together and create a new Constitution of Earth, based upon global cooperation, stewardship of our common resources and freedom from economic coercion.

    Not freedom to consume infinitely. We still live on a finite planet.

    Not freedom to do anything regardless of its consequences for others.

    But freedom from having to sell our labor simply to earn the right to live.

    A world in which technology finally fulfills its greatest promise: not merely producing more for us, but setting us free.

    Waking Up

    How exactly do we get from here to there?

    I don’t pretend to have a blueprint.

    Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity is not a manifesto detailing every step of the transition or every mechanism of a future civilization.

    It is something much simpler.

    A glimpse of what might be possible.

    The story begins in 2015 with Benjamin Michaels, a billionaire facing terminal cancer. Desperate to escape death, he chooses cryonic preservation, hoping that future medicine will eventually cure him so he can wake up and continue expanding his empire.

    He gets his wish.

    Benjamin wakes up a century later.

    His cancer is cured.

    There is only one small problem.

    His empire no longer exists.

    Neither does his money.

    Neither does anyone else’s.

    The concepts upon which his entire life was built—money, trade and ownership—have disappeared.

    Benjamin expected to wake up in the future and reclaim his wealth.

    Instead, he wakes up in a civilization where wealth itself has been redefined.

    Not a Blueprint

    People no longer spend their lives earning the right to live. Technology handles much of the work once performed out of necessity. Resources are shared and managed intelligently. People are free to create, explore, learn, contribute and simply live.

    Benjamin has awakened in the world this article has been imagining.

    Not a perfect world.

    Not a blueprint.

    Not a prediction.

    A possibility.

    And perhaps that is where every transformation begins.

    Before we can create a different world, we first have to be able to imagine one.

    Discover the story

  • The Real Purpose of AI

    The Real Purpose of AI

    We are racing to create an intelligence greater than our own.

    Companies are investing hundreds of billions. Nations are competing. Artificial intelligence is becoming more capable at extraordinary speed, and somewhere ahead lies the possibility of AGI — Artificial General Intelligence — and perhaps eventually something even more capable than that.

    There is enormous discussion about whether AI will be safe.

    There is enormous discussion about whether AI will take our jobs. It will.

    There is enormous discussion about who will develop the most powerful AI first.

    But there is a much simpler question that seems strangely absent.

    What is the real purpose of AI?

    The Race

    At the moment, there doesn’t seem to be one answer.

    Every company has its own purpose. Develop better products. Increase productivity. Reduce costs. Gain market share. Make money.

    Governments have other purposes. Increase national competitiveness. Improve administration. Strengthen national security.

    And inevitably, militaries are interested too.

    Meanwhile, humanity watches the race and wonders where it is taking us.

    Perhaps AI will cure diseases.

    Perhaps it will accelerate scientific discoveries.

    Perhaps it will solve problems we haven’t been able to solve ourselves.

    Perhaps it will replace enormous numbers of jobs.

    Perhaps it will create abundance beyond anything humanity has previously experienced.

    Perhaps it will become dangerous, break free and turn on us.

    Nobody really knows.

    And that is precisely the point.

    We are developing perhaps the most powerful technology humanity has ever created without first agreeing on what we ultimately want to accomplish with it.

    More and More

    The underlying purpose of automation has always seemed fairly obvious.

    Do more with less effort.

    The plough and bull replaced some human muscle. The tractor replaced much more. Industrial machinery transformed manufacturing. Computers automated calculations and administration. Robots entered factories.

    Each step allowed us to produce more, faster and with less human labor.

    AI continues that story, but with one enormous difference.

    We are no longer merely automating muscle.

    We are beginning to automate intelligence.

    Writing. Programming. Designing. Diagnosing. Planning. Researching. Organizing. Analyzing.

    And when artificial intelligence is combined with increasingly capable robotics, we could be approaching something humanity has never experienced before:

    an extreme abundance of labor.

    For almost all of human history, labor has been scarce.

    Now it may cease to be.

    Abundance

    Some technology leaders believe AI and robotics could eventually produce extraordinary material abundance.

    Perhaps they are right.

    But abundance alone doesn’t answer the important question.

    Who is the abundance for?

    If a company owns the AI, owns the robots, owns the factories and sells what those machines produce, we haven’t fundamentally changed the underlying system.

    We have simply created vastly more productive means within it.

    And that produces a peculiar contradiction.

    Suppose AI and robotics can produce more goods and services while requiring fewer human workers.

    That sounds like progress.

    But in our current monetary system, most people still need money to access those goods and services, and most people obtain that money through work.

    So the machines produce more.

    Humans need to work less.

    People lose jobs.

    People lose income.

    And suddenly they struggle to afford the extraordinary abundance the machines are producing. Unless the products cost less and less, which might be the result of this extreme productive abundance. But when the prices reach zero or close to zero, what is the point of money at all? And if money has no point, what about ownership and trading itself? To sell something requires that someone owns it first. Maybe it’s time we look closer on the whole ownership-trading-money paradigm…?

    Succeeding with AGI without addressing this question means we would have succeeded technologically while failing logically.

    Jobs

    This is why so much of the discussion about AI and employment sounds strangely confused.

    What are people going to do when AI takes their jobs?

    But perhaps we’re asking the question backwards.

    For thousands of years, we have invented machines precisely because we wanted to reduce human labor.

    Nobody invented the washing machine because washing clothes by hand was such a wonderful human experience that we wanted to preserve it.

    We automate work because automation can free human beings from having to do it.

    And now, having potentially created the ultimate automation technology, we are frightened that it might actually succeed.

    Why?

    Because we have connected two things that don’t necessarily have to remain connected:

    1. the production of what we need and 
    2. our right to access it.

    If you need a job to earn money, and you need money to live, then losing your job is terrifying.

    But that isn’t a problem created by abundance.

    It is a problem created by the system through which we distribute that abundance.

    The Question

    So perhaps the purpose of AI should not simply be:

    How can we produce more?

    How can we make companies more profitable?

    How can we increase sales?

    How can we make our nation more competitive?

    And certainly not:

    How can we build more powerful weapons?

    Perhaps we should ask something much bigger.

    How can this extraordinary intelligence help create the best possible life for humanity on the planet we share?

    That is a very different assignment.

    Imagine using AI to understand the Earth as one interconnected system.

    What resources do we have?

    What do people actually need and want?

    Where are the shortages?

    Where are the surpluses?

    What are we wasting?

    What can be reused?

    What can be recycled?

    How much food should we produce?

    Where should it go?

    How can housing, transportation, energy and infrastructure be provided using the least resources and causing the least ecological damage?

    Where are we exceeding planetary limits?

    How can we restore what we have damaged?

    Instead of asking AI to optimize sales, we could ask it to help us optimize life.

    Economy

    And perhaps something else happens here.

    We rediscover the true meaning of an old word.

    Economy.

    The word comes from the Greek oikonomia: the management of a household.

    That is a profoundly different idea from what we commonly mean today when we speak about “the economy.”

    Today we largely mean finance, markets, prices, employment, investment, debt, growth and monetary transactions.

    But none of those things are the household itself.

    The household is here.

    Earth.

    Its soil.

    Its oceans.

    Its forests.

    Its atmosphere.

    Its minerals.

    Its energy.

    Its ecosystems.

    And us.

    Economy=ecology.

    Perhaps AI could help us practice economy in its most fundamental sense for the first time on a planetary scale:

    the intelligent management of our shared home.

    Not to maximize financial return.

    Not to maximize consumption.

    But to meet human needs while maintaining the ecological foundations upon which every human life depends.

    Perhaps AI will not bring about the end of economy.

    Perhaps it will finally allow us to create one. A real one.

    Human purpose

    But then something fascinating happens.

    The question turns around.

    If AI can increasingly perform our labor, we don’t only have to ask:

    What is the purpose of AI?

    We suddenly have the freedom to ask:

    What is the purpose of humans?

    For centuries, much of human life has revolved around making ourselves useful to the monetary system.

    We educate ourselves so we can get jobs.

    We get jobs so we can earn money.

    We earn money so we can pay for somewhere to live, food to eat and everything else we need.

    “What do you do?” has become synonymous with:

    “What do you do for money?”

    But is that really the purpose of a human being?

    To spend decades toiling and working in order to obtain permission to live?

    Perhaps AI and robotics will finally allow us to separate work from purpose.

    That doesn’t mean humans stop doing things.

    Quite the opposite.

    We can create.

    Learn.

    Explore.

    Invent.

    Love.

    Raise children.

    Care for one another.

    Grow food.

    Make music.

    Dance.

    Play.

    Study the universe.

    Build communities.

    Restore forests.

    Explore and clean up oceans.

    Travel beyond Earth.

    And continue doing all kinds of work simply because we find that work meaningful.

    The difference is profound.

    We no longer have to justify our existence through our financial usefulness.

    Stewards

    Perhaps our role on Earth was never supposed to be that of workers serving a financial machine.

    Perhaps it is something much greater.

    Being stewards.

    We arrived on an extraordinary bountyful living planet that provides everything required for our existence.

    Air.

    Water.

    Food.

    Materials.

    Energy.

    Life itself.

    Perhaps our purpose is not to own as much of it as possible, extract as much value from it as possible and compete over the proceeds.

    Perhaps our purpose is to understand it, care for it and ensure that the extraordinary abundance it provides can sustain life far into the future. For generations to come.

    Artificial intelligence could help us do that.

    Not as our ruler or our master.

    But as perhaps the most extraordinary tool humanity has ever created.

    A tool capable of helping us understand enormously complex systems, coordinate resources, eliminate waste, automate unnecessary labor and manage our planetary household with an intelligence we have never possessed before.

    The Purpose

    We are understandably spending enormous effort asking how to make AI safe.

    We are asking what happens when AI takes our jobs.

    We are asking which company will win the race.

    We are asking which country will lead.

    But perhaps before racing much further, maybe we should have a much bigger conversation.

    Where are we racing to?

    We don’t have to know exactly what the future will look like.

    Nobody does.

    But we can decide what kind of future we would like to create.

    Perhaps the greatest question about artificial intelligence is not how intelligent it will become.

    It is what we will ask it to do.

    And perhaps the answer begins with another question entirely.

    If machines can eventually free us from spending our lives serving the system we created…

    what would we like to spend our lives serving instead?

    Perhaps the answer has been beneath our feet all along.

    Earth.

    Life.

    Each other.

    Imagine It

    What would such a world actually look like?

    A world where AI and automation no longer threaten our livelihoods, but liberate us from the need to work simply to survive. Where technology serves humanity, humanity becomes the steward of Earth, and abundance is shared rather than sold.

    That is the world explored in Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity.

    Because before we can create a different future, we first have to imagine one.

    Discover the story