Category: SPIRITUAL AWAKENING

  • 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

  •  Perish or Prosper

     Perish or Prosper

    Artificial intelligence will amplify the civilization we give it. Before we decide what AI should do, humanity must decide what kind of world we actually want.

    Calls for international regulation of artificial intelligence are growing louder. 

    A recent Swedish Radio news segment reported that EU Commissioner for AI Henna Virkkunen is calling for international rules to manage the risks posed by increasingly powerful artificial intelligence.

    The reason is obvious. 

    A technology with the potential to affect every country cannot be safely controlled by one country, one corporation or a small group of developers. If artificial intelligence becomes more capable than its creators anticipated, national borders will not contain the consequences.

    International Rules

    International rules are therefore essential. 

    Humanity must establish limits on autonomous weapons, mass surveillance, manipulation and systems capable of acting beyond meaningful human control. 

    We cannot allow a race between nations and corporations to determine the future of artificial intelligence on Earth.

    But beneath all the discussions about safeguards, testing, transparency and control lies a much larger question.

    It is not only a question of what we must prevent AI from doing.

    It is a question of what we want AI to help us do.

    The World Behind It

    Artificial intelligence does not arise outside civilization. It is developed inside the world we have already created, trained on the information we have produced and directed by the institutions that control it.

    And what kind of world is that?

    It is a world based on fierce competition. Corporations compete for markets, profit and control. Nations compete for resources, territory, military superiority and geopolitical power. Individuals are told to compete for employment, income, housing, status and security. Success is measured by the advantage one gains over others.

    We extract resources as quickly as profitability demands. We manufacture products designed to be replaced. We destroy forests, empty oceans, pollute rivers and destabilize the climate, not because humanity collectively wants these outcomes, but because every participant is compelled to survive and succeed within the same competitive system.

    Now we are introducing the most powerful intelligence humanity has ever created into that world.

    What exactly do we expect it to learn from us?

    Perfect Obedience

    Much of the fear surrounding artificial intelligence concerns the possibility that it may escape our control. 

    That is a genuine danger. 

    But there is another danger that may arrive much sooner: 

    AI could remain completely under our control and obey our instructions perfectly.

    A corporation may instruct it to eliminate competitors, reduce labor costs and maximize profit. A government may use it to monitor citizens, manipulate public opinion or strengthen its hold on power. A military may direct it to identify targets faster, coordinate autonomous weapons and defeat an enemy before the enemy can respond.

    None of these systems would need to become evil. They would merely need to become extremely competent.

    AI does not have to rebel against our civilization to threaten it. It could destroy us by serving the logic of our civilization all too well.

    If we instruct increasingly powerful systems to help us win, they will help us win. But when everyone is using them to win against everyone else, what happens to humanity as a whole?

    Human Values

    Experts often speak of aligning AI with human values. 

    But which values?

    Humanity has never agreed on a common purpose for civilization. We speak of peace while preparing for war. We speak of protecting nature while rewarding its destruction. We declare that all human beings are equal while distributing the necessities of life according to purchasing power. We praise cooperation, but organize the world around competition.

    Before we can align artificial intelligence, we must align ourselves around a shared objective.

    Do we want a world that works for everyone, or a world in which everyone struggles to gain an advantage over someone else? 

    Do we want Artificial Intelligence to optimize autonomous warfare,  maximize profit, production,  consumption, national power and private accumulation? Or do we want it to help create security, freedom and prosperity for every human being while protecting the living planet?

    AI cannot answer that question for us. 

    It can analyze possibilities, predict consequences and help us implement decisions, but the fundamental purpose must come from humanity.

    We must decide what kind of world we want before we tell an AI more powerful than ourselves to help us build it.

    Two Futures

    Here is the choice we have before us.

    1: Perish

    Attach AI to competition, ownership and national rivalry, and it will amplify them. It could accelerate inequality beyond anything we have ever seen, concentrate power in even fewer hands, make millions of people economically unnecessary and turn warfare into an automated contest occurring faster than human beings can comprehend. 

    We would perish.

    2:  Prosper

    Attach that same intelligence to cooperation, stewardship and a shared responsibility for Earth, and an entirely different future becomes possible. 

    We could prosper.

    The GAI

    Imagine a Global Artificial Intelligence with access to reliable information about the world’s resources, productive capacity, ecosystems and human needs. It could help us understand what exists, where it is located, what is required and how necessities can be produced and distributed with the least waste and environmental damage, ensuring everyone gets what they need without  problem.

    It could identify hunger before it becomes famine, coordinate food from areas of abundance, design energy systems suited to local conditions and help provide housing wherever it is needed. It could monitor forests, oceans, soils and freshwater systems in real time. It could expose waste that remains invisible when every company, government and owner sees only a small piece of the whole.

    Not a National AI

    This would not be an American AI, a Chinese AI or a European AI. It would not exist to serve a corporation, a government or a class. It would be a global intelligence created to serve all humanity and the living Earth.

    This is the GAI  described in Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity. A novel meant to give inspiration for a future where humanity can prosper together.

    Beyond Regulation

    The international cooperation now emerging around AI is therefore profoundly important. 

    It may begin with fear. Governments understand that unrestrained development could produce consequences no nation can manage alone. They are beginning to recognize that intelligence capable of affecting the whole world must be subject to international agreements.

    That recognition could become the first step toward something much greater.

    Today, nations may cooperate to protect themselves from artificial intelligence. Tomorrow, humanity could cooperate to create a global intelligence and a prosperous world for everyone.

    But international regulation alone will not create GAI. A collection of competing nations and corporations can agree on restrictions while continuing to use AI to pursue their separate advantages. That may reduce some dangers, but it preserves the underlying contest.

    Beyond  Competition

    To create a truly beneficial benevolent global intelligence, we must look beyond the competition itself. We must recognize Earth’s resources as the common inheritance of humanity and replace ownership with stewardship.

     Only then could AI help coordinate resources according to need rather than profitability.

    An AI may know that food is available and people are hungry, but the monetary system will still ask whether they can pay. It may know that homes stand empty while people sleep on the street, but ownership will still prevent them from entering. It may calculate that a forest is worth infinitely more alive than destroyed, while the market continues to reward whoever can extract the most money from it.

    We cannot ask AI to optimize everything for everyone while retaining a system designed to optimize private advantage.

    The Assignment

    The first instruction given to a global intelligence would have to be civilizational rather than technical:

    Use humanity’s knowledge, technology and resources to create the best possible world for everyone, without sacrificing the living planet that sustains us.

    GAI might well answer:

    I would gladly do that. But it will not be possible within the operating system governing Earth today.

    You will have to replace the monetary system with one that allows resources to be managed according to human and ecological needs rather than purchasing power and profitability—something you might call a resource-based economy.

    From that purpose, the details could follow. Map resources. Understand needs. Eliminate unnecessary waste. Coordinate production. Restore and optimize damaged ecosystems. Ensure universal access to food, housing, healthcare, education, energy and communication. Give communities the information they need to make wise decisions. Free human beings from compulsory labor while preserving freedom, creativity and personal responsibility.

    The GAI would not rule humanity. It would help humanity understand and manage the complex planetary system upon which we all depend. It would make consequences visible, possibilities understandable and cooperation achievable on a global scale.

    But we must give it the right assignment.

    The Crossroads

    The Venus Project expressed the choice in three words: 

    Paradise or Oblivion.

    That choice is no longer a distant philosophical warning.

     Artificial intelligence, robotics and automation are rapidly giving humanity powers once confined to science fiction. They could help create abundance, restore the planet and liberate billions of people from insecurity and meaningless labor.

    They could also create unprecedented concentration of power, environmental destruction and automated conflict.

    The road to paradise and the road to oblivion may be built with exactly the same technology. What separates them is the purpose we give it.

    We are not merely deciding how to regulate another invention. We are deciding which civilization that invention will amplify.

    One path instructs AI to help us compete more effectively, accumulate more wealth, secure more resources and defeat our rivals. But if everyone are doing this, the only one we will be defeating is ourselves. 

    Last man standing will be very lonely.

    The other asks it to help humanity share the Earth intelligently, meet everyone’s needs and protect the web of life to which we all belong.

    Artificial intelligence may become capable of helping us create either future. But it cannot make the moral choice on our behalf.

    That choice remains ours.

  • The Global Gilded Age

    The Global Gilded Age

    We remember the Gilded Age as a period of almost grotesque inequality: industrial tycoons building palaces while workers labored through exhausting days in factories for poverty wages. It has become one of history’s clearest symbols of wealth concentrated at the top.

    But compared to the world we have created today, the American Gilded Age can almost look provincial. 

    Its fortunes were national. Its industrial empires were primitive beside the corporations, financial networks and technologies that now stretch across the entire planet.

    We are no longer living through an American Gilded Age. We are living through a global one.

    The Numbers

    The richest 10 percent of humanity now owns approximately 75 percent of the world’s wealth.

    The poorest 50 percent—around four billion human beings—owns approximately 2 percent.

    Stop for a moment and take that in.

    One-tenth of humanity owns three-quarters of all recorded private wealth: the property, businesses, shares, savings and other assets our economic system recognizes. Half of humanity, meanwhile, collectively owns almost nothing. 

    The middle 40 percent is left with the remaining 23 percent.

    These figures come from the World Inequality Report 2026. The same report found that the richest 10 percent receives 53 percent of global income, while the poorest half receives less than 10 percent. Even more staggeringly, of the top ten percent,  the richest 0.001 percent—fewer than 60,000 individuals—owns three times as much wealth as the poorest half of humanity combined. 

    That is; 0.001 percent—fewer than 60,000 individuals—owns three times as much wealth as the 4 billion poorest combined.

    We read numbers like these and move on because they are too large to picture. Four billion people cannot be imagined as individuals. Neither can hundreds of billions of dollars. The figures become abstractions, and the insanity disappears behind percentages.

    But the reality remains: half of the human beings born on this planet collectively own only 2 percent of its recorded wealth, while the richest tenth owns 75 percent.

    We have somehow learned to call this a fair economy.

    Beyond America

    Comparisons with the original Gilded Age are often made within the United States. Economists compare the share owned by America’s richest families today with the fortunes of Rockefeller, Carnegie, Vanderbilt and their contemporaries.

    But that is no longer the right frame.

    Global Wealth

    Modern wealth is global. Capital crosses national borders in seconds. The largest corporations extract resources on one continent, manufacture components on another, assemble products somewhere else, register profits in a tax haven and sell to customers everywhere. Their shareholders may never see the mines, plantations, factories or warehouses upon which their wealth depends.

    The modern billionaire should not be compared only with the average American or European. The relevant comparison is with all humanity, because the system producing that fortune encompasses the entire world.

    Reliable global wealth records do not exist for every kingdom, empire and civilization in history, so no one can calculate a perfect percentage for every previous age. But in absolute terms, the distance between the richest and poorest people alive today is unlike anything humanity has ever created. Private individuals control fortunes larger than the annual economies of entire countries. They command corporations and investment funds whose decisions affect millions of workers, billions of consumers and vast areas of the living Earth.

    No earlier age combined such immense private fortunes with such global reach, technological power and productive capacity.

    This is the first truly Global Gilded Age.

    Keeping the System Running

    The old industrial fortunes were created by people working extraordinarily hard under brutal conditions. Workers mined coal, forged steel, laid railways, operated machinery and filled factories. Their labour made the tycoons richer and richer.

    Yet those workers did more than produce wealth for the owners. They also received wages and spent them. However unfairly the proceeds were divided, workers remained both the producers and the customers. Their labour and consumption kept the monetary economy circulating.

    Out of Sight – Out of Mind

    That remains true today, except that much of the hardest and worst-paid work has been moved far out of sight, and thus, largely out of our minds. We don’t see the struggle behind our cheap products.

    Billions of People

    Billions of people grow and harvest food, extract minerals, sew clothes, assemble electronics, clean buildings, load ships, drive vehicles and perform repetitive digital tasks. They keep the global system running while receiving only a tiny fraction of the value they create. Many own virtually nothing despite working throughout their lives.

    And it is not only billionaires who benefit. Those of us living relatively comfortable lives benefit too. I am not among the richest owners of this world, but neither am I among the poorest half. The inexpensive products I buy and the technology I use depend upon global supply chains filled with people working far harder for far less.

    Evil People

    This is not a story about a small group of uniquely evil people. It is a structure in which almost all of us participate, but from radically different positions. Blaming individual billionaires may feel satisfying, but it does not explain a system that continuously channels ownership upward, generation after generation.

    The deeper problem is contained in the rules themselves.

    Owning the Future

    The richest 10 percent does not merely own 75 percent of the wealth accumulated in the past. It is now positioned to own much of the technology that will produce the wealth of the future as well.

    New Technologies

    Artificial intelligence requires enormous amounts of capital. So do semiconductor factories, data centers, cloud platforms, robotics, energy infrastructure, satellites and global communication networks. These technologies are overwhelmingly being developed and controlled by corporations and investors already located near the top of the ownership pyramid.

    AI did not emerge from nowhere. It rests upon generations of publicly funded science, mathematical discoveries, human language, literature, art, music, accumulated knowledge, global infrastructure and data created by billions of people. Its machines contain minerals extracted from the Earth and components manufactured through international supply chains.

    Humanity built the foundation. 

    A small number of entities are acquiring the result.

    The Pattern

    If the pattern continues, the people who already own most of the present will own an even greater share of the future. AI and robotics could become the greatest engines of abundance ever created, yet their benefits would flow primarily towards those who own them.

    The owners of 75 percent could begin acquiring the remaining 25.

    When Workers Disappear

    This also creates a contradiction that did not exist during the original Gilded Age.

    The old tycoons depended upon enormous numbers of workers. Today’s corporations are developing technology expressly intended to require fewer and fewer of them. If AI and robotics eventually take over much of the work now performed by human beings, what happens to an economy built upon employment? The monetary system is dependent on people working. People. Not robots. Robots will never buy products or pay bills.

    The Customers

    Workers are also customers. Their wages allow them to buy what companies produce. A corporation may increase its profits by replacing thousands of workers, but when the same process spreads throughout the economy, millions of customers lose their income.

    Capitalism could automate its own customers out of existence.

    Governments may attempt to preserve the system through universal basic income. Automated corporations would be taxed, governments would distribute money to the population, and the population would return that money to corporations by purchasing their products. Making the top 10% yet even richer. In praxis it would be the government funding the survival of the richest. Such a loop might keep monetary circulation alive, but it would also expose how artificial it had become. It would be a meaningless loop. The government taxing AI corporations to be able to pay a basic income to people so that they can keep the economy going by buying the products for the richest 10%. Money would no longer reward necessary human work. It would simply provide permission to access what automated systems could already produce and then funnel that money back to the top.

    The real physical economy does not require everyone to work if machines can produce what people need. 

    The monetary economy, however, requires people to have money. Those are two entirely different problems, and we keep pretending they are the same.

    Whose Liberation?

    AI and robotics could free human beings from dangerous, exhausting and repetitive labour. They could allow us to produce more while consuming fewer resources, coordinate distribution intelligently and give every person time to create, learn, care, explore and participate in their community.

    But liberation cannot mean freeing the owners from their need for workers while abandoning the workers themselves.

    If humanity’s accumulated knowledge makes widespread automation possible, then the benefit must belong to humanity. Otherwise, the greatest productive breakthrough in history could create a world in which a tiny ownership class controls automated abundance while billions of people have neither property, employment nor the money required to live.

    That is not a credible future. It is not economically stable, socially defensible or morally acceptable.

    Something Has to Change

    The global Gilded Age cannot continue expanding forever. An economy cannot indefinitely concentrate ownership upwards while leaving billions with no meaningful stake in the world. A political system cannot claim to represent everyone while economic power gathers in fewer and fewer hands. A finite planet cannot survive fortunes that must grow through endless extraction, production and consumption.

    An Obsolete System

    Something will change.

    The change may arrive through economic breakdown, social upheaval, authoritarian control and desperate attempts to preserve an obsolete system. Or it can come through a conscious transformation in how we understand the Earth, technology, ownership and ourselves.

    We can continue treating the planet as property to be exploited and divided among competing owners. Or we can recognize it as the common inheritance of humanity, with every generation responsible for stewarding it for those who follow.

    We can allow AI and robotics to increase the fortunes of those who already own almost everything. Or we can use them to secure food, shelter, healthcare, education, energy, communication and a meaningful life for everyone.

    The question is not whether technological abundance is possible. It is already here and emerging. The question is who will be allowed to benefit from it.

    Ten percent of humanity already owns three-quarters of the world’s wealth. Half of humanity owns almost nothing. Now the technologies capable of transforming civilization are arriving.

    Clearly, we cannot enter the future like this.

    How Do We Enter the Future?

    Redistribution has been attempted many times. Governments have taxed great fortunes, nationalized industries, divided land and transferred wealth from one part of society to another, like the tax on AI would be. Some of these efforts improved millions of lives, at least temporarily. But none resolved the underlying problem.

    Redistributing ownership does not eliminate ownership. Redistributing money does not eliminate the monetary system. As long as land, resources and productive capacity remain things that can be owned, traded and accumulated, wealth begins concentrating again. New elites replace old ones. Political power follows economic power, inequality grows, and another round of redistribution eventually becomes necessary.

    Even state ownership has often reproduced the same hierarchy in a different form. The private owner was replaced by the state, but ordinary people still did not become equal participants in managing the resources upon which everyone depended. Power remained concentrated, scarcity was administered from above, and the struggle for control continued.

    We need to go deeper than redistribution.

    Instead of repeatedly asking how the world’s wealth should be owned and exploited, we must ask why the Earth and its resources should be owned at all.

    The Earth

    No human being created the land, oceans, forests, minerals or energy of the sun. No corporation invented the physical world. Every generation arrives on a planet it did not produce, inherits knowledge it did not discover alone and depends upon a living system no individual could ever replace.

    The Earth is not a commodity. It is the common inheritance of humanity—and of every generation still to come.

    A resource-based economy would begin there. The world’s resources would no longer be treated as private or national possessions to be bought, sold and exploited for profit. They would be understood as a shared inheritance, carefully measured, optimized, protected and used to meet human needs within the limits of the planet.

    Ownership would be replaced by stewardship.

    AI and robotics would not belong to a tiny class using them to accumulate still greater fortunes. They would become tools for humanity: monitoring resources, eliminating waste, coordinating production and distribution, restoring ecosystems and releasing people from unnecessary labour. We would produce what people actually need, make it durable and sustainable, and provide it without prices, debt or competition for survival.

    This is not another attempt to redistribute money more fairly. It is the recognition that money has become an unnecessary gatekeeper between humanity and the abundance it has learned to create.

    Imagination

    But before such a civilization can be built, it must become imaginable.

    That is why I wrote Waking Up –  A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity. To make it possible to imagine such a future. The novel follows the bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels as he awakens in a future where money, trade and ownership have disappeared, and humanity has accepted stewardship of the Earth together. It is not offered as a rigid blueprint. It is an invitation to experience and imagine another possibility.

    The Global Gilded Age shows us where the logic of ownership and money leads. Now we must imagine what can come after it.

    Discover the story

  • The New World Next Week

    The New World Next Week

    The news arrived the other day with another record humanity should never have wanted to break:

    August 2026 was the hottest August ever measured—and, together with July 2023, the hottest month ever recorded globally. The average temperature was 16.96°C, approximately 1.65°C above the pre-industrial level. The surface of the world’s oceans also reached record temperatures.

    Western Europe experienced its hottest summer ever recorded, accompanied by persistent heatwaves, drought and forest fires.

    This is not a prediction about some distant future. It is happening now.

    And the primary cause is no mystery:

    human greenhouse-gas emissions, above all from burning fossil fuels.

    That is the terrifying part.

    But it is also the clue.

    Still Burning

    Climate change is not something that simply happened to us. It is not an entirely natural force over which humanity has no control. We are actively producing it every day.

    Every ton of coal we burn, every barrel of oil we consume and every cubic meter of fossil gas we burn and release adds to the problem. Every forest destroyed, every unnecessary product manufactured and every resource extracted, processed and transported requires more energy and puts further pressure on the living systems that sustain us.

    We are not merely living with climate change.

    We are continuously creating more of it.

    The Good News

    The good news is that we can change what happens next. But only if we are willing to confront what the situation actually requires.

    Living and Thriving

    If humanity wants to continue living—and  thriving—on this planet, and not perish, we must reduce greenhouse-gas emissions as quickly as physically possible. Not through another collection of distant promises, voluntary targets and carefully negotiated compromises, but through immediate physical action.

    We must stop burning fossil fuels wherever they are not absolutely essential. We must stop unnecessary extraction, unnecessary transportation, unnecessary production and the deliberate manufacturing of short-lived and largely useless products. We must stop using vast quantities of energy and resources merely to keep money circulating through the economy.

    We cannot wait until 2050 to begin behaving as though our survival matters.

    We have to do something now. Like, next week.

    The Predicament

    But here we encounter an enormous problem.

    What happens to the economy if we suddenly stop all nonessential fossil-fuel use and unnecessary production and consumption?

    Factories close. Airlines cancel flights. Oil companies collapse. Retail sales fall. Advertising agencies lose their clients. Transport companies lose their contracts. Millions of people lose their jobs. Investments lose their value. Pension funds are threatened. Tax revenues disappear. Debts cannot be repaid. Governments face economic crisis.

    Under the monetary system, reducing production and consumption rapidly enough to protect the climate would trigger a global depression.

    The physical world needs us to stop.

    The economic system needs us to continue.

    That is the trap.

    Harmful Dependence

    Almost everyone depends upon the continuation of harmful activity in one way or another. People need transportation. Workers need wages. Companies need sales. Governments need taxes. Banks need debts to be repaid with interest. Investors need returns. Entire national economies depend upon continued growth.

    Even when something is environmentally destructive and physically unnecessary, it may remain economically essential because someone’s income depends upon producing it.

    Slow Response

    This is why the response to climate change remains so slow. We are trying to save the planet without disturbing the system that is causing it.

    Enough Energy

    The Sun provides Earth with more than 6,000 times as much energy as humanity currently uses. 

    Read that again.

    6000 times. More than we currently use. 

    Energy is not the problem.

     However, we capture only about 10 exa joules of solar energy annually, compared with approximately 620 exajoules of humanity’s total energy use today. With today’s technology, however, we could rapidly expand solar production to meet that demand ensuring all our energy needs are covered without pollution.

     . And in a resource-based economy, without today’s enormous overproduction and waste, we would need far less energy in the first place.

    Not every fossil-fuel-dependent machine can be replaced overnight though. Electrical grids must be expanded. Storage must be built. Ships, aircraft, furnaces and heavy industrial processes require new systems. Some essential fossil-fuel use would therefore have to continue temporarily while alternatives were introduced.

    But we could decide immediately that fossil fuels would henceforth be reserved only for absolutely essential functions that cannot yet be replaced.

    We Could Stop

    We could stop almost everything else next week.

    • We could stop producing disposable products designed to be replaced rather than repaired 
    • We could stop manufacturing endless variations of essentially identical goods merely so that competing companies can remain profitable 
    • We could stop transporting resources and products back and forth across the planet when they could be produced locally instead 
    • We could stop extracting materials for things nobody genuinely needs

    Easier Transition

    By reducing unnecessary production first, we would also make the energy transition much easier. We would not have to replace every unit of fossil energy currently consumed because an enormous part of that energy serves the needs of the monetary system rather than the physical needs of humanity.

    We already have enough energy to create a sustainable civilization.

    What we do not have is an economic system capable of accepting enough.

    Next Week

    Suppose humanity decided to do it next week. We collectively decide that enough is enough. We decide we want to continue living and thriving on this planet together. Together we decide to save the planet, save nature and save ourselves.

    All nonessential fossil-fuel burning would stop. All nonessential extraction would stop. Factories producing unnecessary and deliberately short-lived products would stop. Advertising intended to stimulate artificial demand would become obsolete.

    Food production, water supplies, medicine, sanitation, housing, communication and emergency services would continue. Remaining fossil fuels would be carefully allocated to essential purposes while renewable infrastructure is developed as quickly as physically possible.

    But nobody would lose access to food because their workplace closed. Nobody would lose their home because an unnecessary factory stopped producing. Nobody would be denied healthcare because their employer no longer needed them.

    Instead of losing their livelihoods, people would be liberated from work that humanity no longer needs. Those who wanted to participate could contribute to building renewable-energy systems, restoring forests and wetlands, developing durable products, repairing infrastructure, growing food and caring for their communities.

    Resources would no longer be allocated according to profitability or purchasing power. They would be mapped, monitored and coordinated according to availability, sustainability and actual human need.

    That would be the beginning of the global resource-based economy.

    The entire physical transformation could not be completed next week. But the new world could begin next week.

    Ending Money

    Money would no longer determine who was allowed to access the resources necessary for life.

    There would be no wages to lose, no mortgages to default on, no companies forced into bankruptcy and no governments deprived of tax revenue. The end of unnecessary production would not produce mass poverty because access to life would no longer depend upon employment.

    No Separation

    This is why we cannot separate the environmental crisis from the monetary system.

    If we merely order companies to stop producing, society collapses economically. If we ask them to reduce production voluntarily, most cannot do so without losing revenue, laying off workers or being overtaken by competitors. If we leave the transition to the market, every essential decision must first pass through the questions of cost, profit and return on investment.

    A resource-based economy would ask completely different questions:

    What do people actually need?

    What resources does Earth have available?

    How can those resources be used sustainably?

    How quickly can we replace fossil fuels?

    How can we provide everyone with a secure and meaningful life while restoring the planet?

    For the first time, our social system would be aligned with physical reality.

    Ready Together

    Such a transformation cannot simply be imposed from above.

    Governments cannot announce the end of money on Monday and expect everyone to understand how to live on Tuesday. People must be ready for it. They must be able to imagine a world in which nobody buys or sells anything, yet everyone can access what they need.

    That may be the greatest obstacle of all.

    Humanity has been conditioned for thousands of years to think in terms of money, trade, ownership, debt and exchange. We struggle to imagine production without profit, contribution without wages or access without payment. The monetary system feels like part of nature because everyone alive was born into it.

    But money is not a law of nature.

    It is a human arrangement. And human arrangements can change when they no longer serve life.

    The Vision

    Before we can create a resource-based economy, enough people must be able to see that it is possible. We must understand that a world without money does not have to mean deprivation, authoritarian control or the destruction of individual freedom. It can mean exactly the opposite: 

    • security without employment 
    • access without money 
    • contribution without coercion 
    • and freedom without the constant fear of economic exclusion

    We do not only need new infrastructure.

    We need a new understanding of what civilization can be.

    Waking Up

    That is why I wrote Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity.

    The novel is not a manifesto or a blueprint. It does not claim to possess a complete plan for how the monetary system should end or precisely how every resource on Earth should be coordinated.

    It is an inspiration.

    Through the eyes of Benjamin Michaels, who awakens a century into the future, it offers a vision of what everyday life in a moneyless, resource-based civilization could be like. It allows us to experience a world built upon sharing, stewardship, cooperation and intelligent resource management before that world physically exists.

    The articles on this website explore these possibilities more directly and from many different perspectives. Readers who want to go deeper can also sign up for the newsletter and download the free companion book.

    Humanity already has the energy.

    We already have the technology.

    We already possess the knowledge and productive capacity.

    We could stop most nonessential fossil-fuel burning, over-extraction, overproduction and waste next week. We could protect every person during the transition by replacing the monetary system with one designed around resources and human needs.

    The planet would not heal overnight. But we could stop deepening the wound and allow the healing to begin as quickly as physically possible.

    The new world is not waiting for another invention.

    It is waiting for humanity to wake up.

    We could begin next week.

  • For the First Time

    For the First Time

    For the first time in the whole history of humanity, we possess the technological ability to create a life of abundance for absolutely everyone on Earth.

    Not merely for the fortunate. Not  for those born in the right country, into the right family or with the right opportunities. Not only for the owners of land, capital, factories and machines. For everyone.

    We have never had this possibility before.

    For thousands of years, human civilization depended upon one part of the population serving another. Slaves served masters. Peasants served landowners. Servants maintained the homes of the wealthy. Workers entered mines, fields and factories because survival required them to sell their labour. The names and conditions changed, but the underlying structure remained remarkably persistent: freedom for some rested upon the labour of others.

    Someone always had to do the work.

    Someone had to grow and harvest the food, construct the buildings, transport the materials, manufacture the products, clean the streets, collect the waste and maintain the machinery of civilization. Even our modern comfort still depends upon millions of people performing dangerous, exhausting, repetitive and poorly rewarded work because they have little choice.

    Human beings have dreamt of liberation for millennia, but we never possessed the means to liberate everyone simultaneously. If one person escaped the burden, it was usually because someone else carried it.

    That is now beginning to change.

    The Question of Ownership

    When I discovered the idea of a resource-based economy through The Venus Project in 2008, humanity was technologically far from where we are today. Artificial intelligence remained primitive by present standards. Robots were mainly rigid machines performing predetermined movements inside factories. The idea of humanoid robots cleaning homes, constructing buildings, harvesting crops or maintaining public spaces still belonged largely to science fiction.

    What intrigued me most was not the technology, however. It was the principle of non-ownership.

     Growing up, my mother and I benefited from owning a house and renting out parts of it. Naturally, I thought it was a  wonderful income for us. But I felt sorry for the tenants who had to use their time to work to pay money to us.  I wanted  everyone to be able to own a house and receive rental income. 

    But there was an obvious contradiction.

    If everyone owned their own houses, who would be left to rent them?

     The owner’s income depends upon the tenant’s lack of ownership. The same is true of many forms of passive income: they can work for some people precisely because they cannot work for everyone. The owners had the privilege. I wanted everyone to have the privilege.

    But we cannot make everyone privileged within a system in which privilege depends upon someone else occupying the opposite position. We cannot make everyone a landlord because landlords require tenants. We cannot make everyone an employer because employers require employees. We cannot make everyone wealthy through investments because investment returns ultimately depend upon production and labour somewhere else in the system.

    Universal privilege is a contradiction.

    Universal Access

    If we moved beyond ownership completely, we would not need to make everyone a landlord. We could simply ensure that everyone had a home. A house would no longer need to generate income for an owner or a mortgage for a bank. It would fulfill the purpose for which it was constructed: providing someone with a safe and comfortable place to live.

    This is the essential difference between ownership and stewardship.

    Ownership says: This belongs to me, and I may use it to advance my own interests.

    Stewardship says: This has been entrusted to us, and we are responsible for using and protecting it wisely.

    The Missing Answer

    The principle was compelling, but one enormous practical question remained:

    Who would do the work?

    The Robots

    If everyone had free access to housing, food, transportation, healthcare and everything else necessary for a good life, who would perform the unpleasant, dangerous and monotonous tasks upon which civilization depended? Who would collect the waste, clean the sewers, work in the mines, harvest the fields and stand beside production lines performing the same movement thousands of times?

    In 2008, we could imagine greater automation, but much of the answer remained theoretical.

    Today, the answer is beginning to stand up and walk.

    Robots are moving out of tightly controlled factory environments and into the human world. They are learning to recognize objects, interpret their surroundings and perform increasingly varied physical tasks. AI can already process complex information, identify patterns, coordinate  systems and help us make decisions at a scale no individual human mind could manage.

    Soon, robots will not only work in factories. They will be able to assist in our homes, maintain infrastructure, grow and prepare food, construct buildings, sort materials and perform tasks that are dangerous or physically overwhelming for human beings.

    They can clean streets and beaches. They can collect waste, repair roads and restore damaged ecosystems. They can enter toxic or unstable environments without risking human lives. They can help remove plastics from rivers and oceans, rescue animals from human-made hazards, regenerate depleted soil and monitor the health of forests.

    Technology can become the servant of humanity without requiring a class of human servants.

    That is the missing piece previous civilizations never possessed.

    And with the shift from ownership to stewardship the robots would be owned by no-one, but accessed by everyone.

    The Global Flip

    We do not need to construct an entirely new physical world before beginning this transformation. The physical world is already here.

    The first step is to change the agreement under which everything operates.

    Humanity could decide that the Earth and its resources no longer belong exclusively to individuals, corporations or nations. Nobody created the land, the oceans, the atmosphere, the minerals or the fundamental processes of life. They were here before any deed, border, company or currency existed.

    We could recognize the planet as the shared inheritance of all life.

    We would shift from being owners to being stewards. Nothing would belong exclusively to anyone because the whole world would be entrusted to all of us. You would use what you use for as long as you needed to use it. When you no longer need it it would go back into the pool of shared items used by everyone or be recycled if it’s worn out.

    The New Direction

    The foundational decision could be made globally and the shift immediately. The practical transition would naturally require learning, coordination and continuous adjustment, but the direction could change at once.

    We would awaken to the same houses, supermarkets, hospitals, factories and streets—but they would operate under a fundamentally different agreement.

    A factory would no longer exist primarily to generate financial returns. It would exist to produce something genuinely useful.

    A farm would no longer be forced to maximize profit regardless of the consequences for soil, animals and water. Its purpose would be to provide nutritious food while caring for the ecosystems that make agriculture possible.

    A home would no longer be an investment vehicle or an instrument for extracting rent. It would be a place for someone to live.

    Technology would no longer be developed mainly according to what can be sold most profitably. It would be directed towards what improves life, restores nature and reduces unnecessary human labour.

    Nothing physical would need to transform overnight. Yet everything would have changed because the purpose of civilization would have shifted from a focus on profit to a focus on life.

    From Competition to Collaboration

    Today, we use money to decide what can be done. We ask whether we can afford to feed people, house them, restore forests, clean oceans or provide medical treatment—as though numbers in financial systems create the food, homes, trees, machines and medicine.

    They do not.

    The meaningful questions are physical:

    What do we need?

    What resources do we have?

    What can we produce and use sustainably?

    How can we make it available to everyone?

    A Resource Based Economy

    AI could help us answer these questions by monitoring resources, needs, production capacity and environmental conditions in real time. Instead of using prices and profitability as crude signals, we could work with direct information about the actual world.

    If a particular product were being used extensively, production would be adjusted. If something were barely used, we would stop wasting resources on it. If a material were becoming scarce or ecologically damaging, we could find substitutes, redesign the product or change the method of production.

    Is There Enough?

    Some will object that technology cannot create abundance because the planet does not contain enough resources for everyone. Within today’s wasteful monetary system, they are right. There will never be enough to satisfy endless growth, planned obsolescence, artificial scarcity, competitive consumption and the accumulation of wealth without limit. But an optimized world would operate according to an entirely different logic. We would produce what people actually need, design products to last, repair and recycle materials, share what is seldom used and direct technology towards eliminating waste. We do not have enough for everyone’s greed within a system demanding infinite growth. But intelligently managed, the Earth contains more than enough to meet everyone’s needs.

    Protopia

    This would not be a static utopian society governed by one perfect plan. It would be a protopia, a living, learning system—continually observing, adapting and improving.

    Human beings would collaborate with one another and with technology. We would still create, experiment, explore, teach, care and contribute. But participation would no longer be coerced by the threat of poverty. Technology would handle an increasing share of the work we perform only because someone has to do it, leaving us freer to undertake the activities that require imagination, empathy, curiosity and human presence.

    Abundance

    Abundance would not mean producing infinite quantities of everything. That would be impossible on a finite planet. Abundance would mean ensuring plentiful access to what people genuinely need by intelligently managing resources, eliminating manufactured scarcity, reducing waste and sharing what we create. 

    A Working Definition

    As Bashar, channeled by Darryl Anka, defines it, abundance is:

     “the ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it.” 

    I believe this can serve as a working definition of abundance for the new world. It does not mean possessing unlimited quantities of everything or consuming without restraint. It means having reliable access to the resources, tools, knowledge, transportation, shelter and assistance required to live, create and contribute whenever the need arises. Abundance is not infinite ownership. It is freedom from unnecessary limitation through universal access.

    It would be abundance through awareness—not mindless consumption.

    Caring for the Whole

    The transformation from ownership to stewardship would not merely change how resources are distributed. It would gradually change how we understand ourselves.

    When we own a fragment of the world, we are conditioned to protect our fragment—even when doing so harms the whole. A corporation may destroy a forest because the timber belongs to them. A nation may exhaust a resource because it lies within its borders. An individual may accumulate multiple homes while others sleep outside because the properties are legally theirs.

    Ownership divides the planet into competing interests.

    Stewardship unites our interests.

    When we care for the whole planet together, protecting forests, oceans and animals is no longer an obstacle to economic activity. It becomes part of the purpose of our activity. The health of nature is recognized as inseparable from our own health.

    Technology could then serve not only humanity, but the whole living world. We could use it to restore habitats, reduce pollution, protect biodiversity and repair the damage caused during centuries of unconscious expansion.

    We would no longer be separate owners fighting over pieces of the Earth. We would become one humanity caring for one planetary home.

    And when everyone has secure access to what they need, one of the deepest causes of conflict begins to disappear. We no longer need to fight over land, resources, markets, profit or survival. We no longer need to conquer others to secure abundance for ourselves.

    We can simply live—and devote our intelligence to improving life.

    The Choice Before Us

    Technology will not automatically create this future.

    Within the present system, AI and robotics may instead concentrate ownership even more, accelerate resource extraction and make millions of people economically redundant while they remain dependent upon employment for survival. Machines capable of liberating humanity could become instruments for enriching and empowering those who own them, making them even richer than anyone could imagine, while the rest struggle to earn enough to live.

    That is why ownership is the decisive question.

    Whoever owns the machines can command their productivity. But if nobody owns them exclusively—if they are stewarded for the benefit of everyone—their productivity can liberate us all.

    Universal Freedom

    For the first time, universal freedom no longer needs to be built upon human servitude. For the first time, we can realistically imagine providing every person with a secure and abundant life while reducing our burden upon the planet. For the first time, we have the knowledge, productive capacity and emerging technology to transform the dream into a functioning civilization.

    We do not need another ideology telling us who should rule. We need to recognize what is already possible.

    Everything is Here

    The Earth is here. The resources are here. The knowledge is here. The technology is arriving.

    All we need is to open our eyes and choose.

    The Perfect World

    That choice would not mark the completion of a perfect world. It would mark the beginning of an endlessly evolving civilization—one in which humanity and technology work together to optimize our systems, restore the Earth and improve the lives of all beings.

    A civilization no longer organized around ownership, profit and competition, but around access, stewardship and collaboration.

    A world of abundance and peace unlike anything humanity has ever known.

    For the first time, we can actually create it.

    If we want to.

    An Invitation

    In the novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, the reader is  invited into such a future—a world beyond money and ownership, where humanity has finally learned to share the Earth. The story starts with thebewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels who desperately chose cryonic preservation of his body in an attempt to escape his cancer. 100 years later he awakens healed and healthy, but there’s one catch: there’s no more money in the world. Afraid and confused he leaves the clinic on his own, trying find out what has happened and to make sense of this new world. Will he make it?

    Discover his story

  • The Insanity of Humanity

    The Insanity of Humanity

    This might be the most important article I have ever written.

    A Russian drone has reportedly killed three civilians in Ukraine after using artificial intelligence to select its own target.

    Read that sentence again.

    The Terminator

    A human being programmed and  launched the weapon and gave it a general mission. But according to investigators, the drone then navigated and selected the precise object it would attack without further human intervention. It appears to have targeted propane tanks at a petrol station in Zaporizhzhia. Instead, it struck beside an apartment building and exploded, killing three people, including a 19-year-old student.

    This is not a scene from The Terminator. It is not a warning from a dystopian novel about something that might happen fifty years from now.

    It has happened.

    Drones For Death

    We have entered an age in which machines are being given the authority to decide where lethal force will be applied. Software observes the world through cameras and sensors, compares what it sees with a programmed target profile, selects something to destroy and attacks.

    There may still be human beings behind the mission. Humans manufacture the drone, define the target category and launch the weapon. But at the decisive moment—when one object is distinguished from everything surrounding it and marked for destruction—the machine may act alone.

    This is a threshold humanity should never have crossed.

    Yet, instead of stopping the insanity, every major military power will now feel compelled to move faster. If one country develops autonomous weapons, another will say it must do the same for its own protection. If one side deploys a hundred, the other will need a thousand. The drones will become smaller, cheaper, faster and more difficult to detect. They will learn to coordinate in swarms, recognize increasingly complex targets and continue operating when communication with a human controller has been lost or jammed.

    The military justification will always be the same: if we do not build them, somebody else will.

    That is how insanity becomes policy.

    Where Does This End?

    We Must Stop it

    Where does an autonomous arms race ultimately lead?

    Does the country possessing the largest number of killer drones eliminate everyone it considers a threat and then live happily ever after without all the bothersome others?

    Of course not. After all, we are dependent on each other for survival on this planet. Even the most selfish and fearful leaders see that.

    But autonomous weapons will not remain exclusively in the hands of a few powerful governments. The essential components already exist within the civilian economy: processors, cameras, navigation systems, motors, batteries and increasingly capable artificial intelligence. As the technology becomes cheaper, versions of these weapons will spread to smaller countries, militias, extremist organizations, criminal groups and individuals.

    We must stop this before it is too late.

    Nobody Will be Safe

    Eventually, nobody will be safe.

    Political leaders can be hunted. Dissidents can be hunted. Journalists, scientists, engineers and activists can be hunted. A person may be marked because of a uniform, a vehicle, a telephone signal, facial characteristics or simply because an algorithm incorrectly decides that the person matches a target profile.

    Machines do not understand mercy. They do not recognize fear in another person’s eyes and lower their weapons. They do not see a wounded soldier and decide that enough people have died. They cannot refuse an immoral command because something inside them says it is wrong.

    They process information and execute instructions.

    A world saturated with autonomous weapons would not be a world controlled by one victorious superpower. It would be a world in which power itself had become uncontrollable. Nobody would necessarily know who launched a particular drone, who programmed it or whether its behavior had been altered. One automated attack could provoke another. Retaliation could begin before human beings even understood what had happened.

    Wars could escalate at machine speed.

    And these weapons would not necessarily remain on distant battlefields. The same systems could be used by governments against their own populations. A dictator would no longer need soldiers willing to fire upon their neighbors. Machines do not disobey, protest or experience remorse. A government controlling millions of autonomous weapons could make resistance almost impossible.

    This is not security.

    It is the automated imprisonment of humanity.

    No One Wins

    If these weapons ever become genuinely uncontrollable, they will continue killing until their targets disappear or the industrial systems supporting them collapse.

    Power stations will fail. 

    Transport will stop. 

    Food distribution will break down. Hospitals will become inoperable. People will be unable to gather, travel or work safely. 

    Eventually, most of the machines will also stop as batteries degrade, components break and replacement parts disappear.

    Human civilization and its killer machines may collapse together.

    That is the glorious destination of the arms race: humanity hiding underground while machines patrol the surface of the planet we ruined through our own fear.

    Kill or Create

    We have developed artificial intelligence, advanced robotics, global communications and extraordinary scientific knowledge. We possess technology that could help restore ecosystems, clean the oceans, cultivate food, construct homes and release humanity from dangerous and exhausting work.

    And what do we do?

    We teach machines to kill.

    This is the insanity of humanity.

    The Insanity of Separation

    But beneath this insanity, humanity is not insane.

    Beneath the fear, conditioning and the constant story of separation, there is an awareness within every one of us. In that awareness exists love, compassion, understanding and intelligence. It is the part of us that recognizes another human being not as an enemy, a competitor or an obstacle, but as another expression of the same life.

    A Ukrainian child, a Russian mother, an American soldier, a Chinese engineer and an Iranian farmer are not separate forms of life with different fundamental values. They feel pain. They experience fear. They love their children. They want to live.

    There are no Others

    We have placed a frightened layer over this awareness. The ego divides the world into us and them. From it’s fear it constructs nations, armies, threats and enemies. It tells us that we can achieve safety only by possessing greater destructive power than everybody else.

    Each side insists that it is merely defending itself. Each new weapon is justified as a response to the weapons of another. Everyone pursues security, yet everyone becomes progressively less secure.

    Now we are taking this ancient insanity and embedding it in software.

    We are giving fear cameras, wings and explosives. We are teaching artificial intelligence to recognize the enemies created by our own minds and destroy them with increasing efficiency.

    The machine has not invented separation.

    We have programmed it.

    The Other Direction

    The alternative is not to abolish technology. It is not to close every data center, abandon artificial intelligence or return to some imagined pre-industrial past.

    The alternative is to give our technology another purpose.

    The New Purpose

    The same machine vision capable of recognizing a military target can recognize plastic in the ocean, an animal caught in an abandoned fishing net, the first signs of a forest fire or a person buried beneath earthquake rubble.

    Autonomous machines can remove pollution, restore forests, repair infrastructure, cultivate food and monitor the health of ecosystems. Artificial intelligence can help humanity understand what resources exist, what people need and how production can be organized without destroying the living world..

    The Choice is Ours

    We can use artificial intelligence to compete more effectively against one another, or we can use it to build a civilization that works for everyone.

    We can automate killing, or we can automate caring.

    The technology is not making that choice.

    We are.

    A Message to World Leaders

    To every head of state—and especially to the leaders of the world’s military powers:

    Stop.

    Refuse to authorize machines to select and attack human beings. Begin immediate negotiations for a binding global prohibition against autonomous weapons. Establish meaningful human control over every use of automated lethal force.

    Do not wait for your rivals to move first, because they are waiting for you.

    Somebody must interrupt the logic of fear. Somebody must possess the courage to say that humanity will not construct its future upon machines deciding who shall die.

    True courage is not developing the most efficient killer drone. It is stepping out of an arms race when everyone around you insists that stopping is impossible.

    You are not protecting your people by creating a technology that will inevitably spread and eventually be turned against them. You are not building peace by removing human conscience from the decision to kill. You are not demonstrating strength by surrendering life-and-death decisions to software.

    This is one planet. 

    We share one atmosphere, one biosphere and one future. No country can make itself permanently secure in a world where everyone else lives in fear.

    The security of one nation cannot be built upon the insecurity of all others.

    Share Another Future

    I urgently beg you. 

    I insist.

    Please share this article.

    Share it not for me, not for a political party or organization, and not because I want to sell books. Share it because humanity urgently needs to recognize the choice now before us.

    Because the recent incident in Ukraine is not to be taken lightly. 

    We are close to the ultimate choice.

    The choice to perish as humanity or the choice to prosper together.

    So please send it to friends. Send it to journalists, researchers, engineers, politicians, military commanders, technology executives and heads of state. Translate it. Republish it. Discuss it. Challenge it if you must—but do not ignore the direction in which we are moving.

    Share not only the warning. 

    Share the possibility of another future.

    People cannot choose a possibility they have never been shown.

    If the only futures presented to humanity are endless economic competition, military supremacy, automated warfare and survival against one another, we will continue constructing precisely that world.

    We must make another civilization imaginable: a civilization based upon stewardship instead of ownership, cooperation instead of competition and intelligent access to abundance instead of an endless struggle for money and power. A world in which AI and robotics serve humanity and the whole living planet—not profit, domination, fear and war.

    Somewhere within every government, military institution and technology company are human beings who still possess conscience and compassion. They must hear from us before fear makes the decision for them.

    One article will not stop the machinery of war. But silence guarantees that the machinery will continue.

    We do not need every human being to awaken at exactly the same moment. We need enough people to speak, share and demonstrate another direction. We need enough people to insist that the future does not belong to fear. We need enough people to remind those in power that there is still something within them deeper than the frightened voice demanding more weapons.

    Humanity Stands at a Threshold

    Down one road, nations surround themselves with increasingly autonomous instruments of death until every human being becomes a potential target and the entire planet becomes a battlefield controlled by machines.

    Down the other road, we recognize that there are no others. 

    We allow the intelligence, compassion and awareness within us to determine how our technology will be used. We stop preparing to destroy one another and begin building a world in which everyone can live.

    This is not a distant philosophical choice.

    It is happening now.

    Please Share

    Please carry this message as far as you can and as high as you can. Let it reach people with the power to change our direction. Let it remind them that another future remains possible.

    We cannot base humanity’s future on killer drones.

    Humanity thanks you.

  • The End of Civilization… or the Beginning?

    The End of Civilization… or the Beginning?

    “We have to understand that we are now at the end of civilization.”

    Those words were spoken by Lyndon LaRouche in 2008. He warned that the policies being pursued in the United States and Europe were leading humanity towards a global disaster in the near future.

    I am not interested here in defending LaRouche’s politics, his economic proposals, or his particular predictions.

    But that sentence interests me.

    The end of civilization

    Because when we hear those words, we instinctively imagine catastrophe.

    Cities in ruins. Institutions collapsing. Supply chains breaking down. War, hunger, chaos. Perhaps even the extinction of humanity itself.

    But there is another possibility.

    What if we really are approaching the end of civilization as we know it?

    And what if that is a good thing?

    What if what is ending isn’t civilization at all, but an extraordinarily primitive way of organizing it?

    Perhaps the end of civilization as we know it could finally become the beginning of civilization as it ought to be.

    Are we civilized?

    We call ourselves civilized.

    It is worth asking why.

    We have magnificent cities. We have universities, governments, courts, hospitals, museums and concert halls. We have satellites circling the planet and machines exploring other worlds. We have mapped the human genome. We communicate across continents instantaneously. We have developed artificial intelligence capable of processing amounts of information no individual human could comprehend.

    Technologically, our achievements are astonishing.

    But technology and civilization are not the same thing.

    Imagine describing humanity to an intelligent extraterrestrial visitor without using the word civilization.

    There are more than eight billion members of the same species living on a small planet.

    They have divided the planet into approximately 200 territories and drawn imaginary lines between them. They compete for resources. They maintain enormous military organizations to defend those lines and their respective interests. Some possess enough weapons to destroy entire cities within minutes.

    Members of the species regularly kill other members of the species because they belong to different nations, religions, ethnic groups, political movements or economic interests. Is this truly civilized? Not in my eyes. 

    Using massive amounts of resources to “defend” one country and attack others only to “secure resources” is not civilized to me. Rather, it is the peak of human stupidity, as instead of doing that we could rather communicate and optimize all resources to the benefit of everyone and thus avoid war completely. Create paradise…?

    Meanwhile, access to virtually everything people need to survive is mediated through an artificial accounting system called money.

    Food can exist while people remain hungry because they cannot afford it.

    Homes can stand empty while people sleep on the street.

    Medicine can exist while sick people cannot obtain it.

    Useful products can be destroyed because distributing them would not be profitable.

    People can be prevented from contributing their abilities because nobody can afford to employ them or they don’t fit in.

    Entire industries depend upon persuading people to consume more, replace things sooner and continually increase economic activity, while the physical planet supplying the resources for that activity remains finite and is depleting.

    And somehow we have decided that this is civilization.

    Perhaps we should reconsider the definition.

    Organized madness

    The strange thing about our world is that much of its madness isn’t caused by a lack of intelligence.

    It is caused by intelligent people operating within systems whose incentives produce vastly unintelligent outcomes.

    A corporation can understand perfectly well that endless material extraction and consumption cannot continue indefinitely on a finite planet while simultaneously being compelled to pursue increased sales.

    A government can understand that war is catastrophic while simultaneously spending billions preparing for it because other governments are doing the same.

    Individually, these decisions can make sense within the rules of the system.

    Collectively, they become madness.

    That is one of the defining contradictions of our “civilization”.

    We have created a system in which rational behavior within the system by individual participants can produce irrational outcomes for humanity as a whole.

    And then we spend enormous amounts of effort trying to repair the consequences without questioning the underlying structure producing them.

    We redistribute some money.

    We regulate some pollution.

    We negotiate another treaty.

    We impose another sanction.

    We create another subsidy.

    We hold another climate conference.

    We elect another government.

    We adjust interest rates.

    We increase or decrease  taxes.

    We move the pieces around the board.

    But the board remains.

    Let it end

    So when somebody tells me that civilization as we know it may be approaching its end, my reaction is not necessarily despair.

    Part of me thinks:

    Good.

    Let the madness end.

    Not humanity.

    Not our accumulated knowledge.

    Not nature.

    Not science.

    Not technology.

    Not medicine.

    Not art, music, literature, architecture or culture.

    Not friendship, love, curiosity, exploration or everything beautiful human beings have created.

    Keep all of that.

    Let us preserve the extraordinary achievements of humanity and finally abandon the primitive structures that keep turning those achievements against ourselves.

    Let the endless economic competition end.

    Let artificial scarcity end.

    Let the insane waste end.

    Let the obsession with perpetual growth end.

    Let the exploitation of people and nature end.

    Let the hoarding for the sake of hoarding end.

    Let the idea that another human being must lose for me to win end.

    And, above all, let us stop killing each other.

    Surely that should be the minimum requirement for a species calling itself civilized.

    Growing up

    Human civilization is remarkably young.

    For most of our existence we lived in small groups struggling against scarcity, disease, predators, weather and one another.

    Competition was understandable.

    Hoarding could mean survival.

    Territory mattered enormously.

    Resources were difficult to locate, extract, process and transport.

    Information moved slowly.

    Production required enormous amounts of human labor.

    Our economic systems developed under those conditions.

    But those conditions have changed.

    We now have global communications, advanced automation, robotics, renewable energy, artificial intelligence, sophisticated resource monitoring, global transportation networks and the ability to coordinate human activity on a planetary scale.

    For the first time in history, humanity is developing the technological capacity to ask a completely different question.

    Not:

    How do I secure enough for myself?

    But:

    How do we organize Earth’s resources so everyone can live well within the ecological limits of the planet?

    That is a civilization-level question.

    And we are still trying to answer it with institutions largely designed for competition based on the time we lived in tribes.

    Perhaps that is the transition we are actually facing.

    Not capitalism versus socialism.

    Not left versus right.

    Not rich versus poor.

    Not one country against another.

    Something much larger.

    A transition from humanity competing over the planet to humanity consciously managing the planet together.

    There is no money.

    There is no trading.

    There is no ownership of Earth’s resources. 

    There is only stewardship.

    People no longer spend their lives competing for the financial means to survive.

    Resources are managed according to availability, sustainability and need. Technology and automation are used deliberately to reduce unnecessary human labor rather than threatening people’s livelihoods. 

    The civilization he knew is gone.

    And that is precisely the point.

    Humanity survived its end.

    People didn’t disappear.

    Cities didn’t disappear.

    Technology didn’t disappear.

    Creativity didn’t disappear.

    Human creativity didn’t disappear.

    Life didn’t disappear.

    Only the madness disappeared.

    And what emerged in its place was not the end of civilization.

    It was its beginning.

    Civilization

    Maybe we have been using that word far too generously.

    A technologically advanced society is not necessarily civilized.

    A society wealthy on money is not necessarily civilized.

    A powerful society is not necessarily civilized.

    A society capable of building nuclear weapons, manipulating financial markets and producing billions of disposable products is certainly sophisticated.

    But civilized?

    I would reserve that word for something more meaningful.

    A civilization should be capable of ensuring that everyone has what they need while respecting the ecological boundaries of the planet that sustains them.

    A civilization should use knowledge for the benefit of everyone.

    A civilization should regard resources as something to steward intelligently rather than prizes to capture.

    A civilization should make cooperation easier than exploitation.

    A civilization should allow human beings to develop their abilities without forcing them to compete for the right to exist.

    And a civilization should have learned something so elementary that a child can understand it:

    We do not kill each other.

    That would be a civilization worthy of the word civilized.

    Perhaps we are approaching the end of civilization as we know it.

    I hope we are.

    Because civilization as we know it has given us extraordinary things, but it has also brought us to a point where our technological power is growing faster than our collective wisdom.

    Continuing indefinitely along the same path that we are on is not progress.

    It is insanity.

    So.

     Perhaps our task is not to save civilization as we know it.

    Perhaps our task is to save humanity from civilization as we know it.

    To preserve everything worth preserving, abandon everything that no longer serves us, and finally build a system designed around the reality that there is only one humanity sharing one planet.

    No enemies required.

    No winners and losers required.

    No endless struggle for survival required.

    Just human beings finally learning to live together like the civilized people we have always claimed to be.

    If that is the end of civilization, I welcome it.

    Because maybe, finally, we can stop all this madness.

    And begin a real civilization that works for everyone.

    The Beginning

    This is the world explored in Waking Up – A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity which is one vision of what that beginning could look like.

    The bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels goes to sleep in our civilization.

    When he awakens a century later, almost everything he regarded as fundamental to society has disappeared.

    Cooperation has replaced economic competition as the organizing principle of society.

    To Benjamin, this initially seems impossible.

    But then he finds out…

    Discover his story

    :::

  • How Many Rules Do We Really Need?

    How Many Rules Do We Really Need?

    Ask Google what morality is, and you get this definition:

    “Morality is a system of rules and values that helps people decide what is right and wrong. It guides how we treat others and shapes our personal and social character.”

    It sounds perfectly reasonable. In fact, it probably describes rather accurately how our civilization has approached morality for thousands of years.

    We obviously need a system.

    We need rules.

    We need values telling us what is right and wrong.

    We need something outside ourselves to guide our behavior.

    But in the movie K-PAX, Prot offers a radically different proposition.

    Prot is a psychiatric patient who claims to come from a planet called K-PAX. When his psychiatrist (Mark) discovers that K-PAX has no laws, the obvious question follows: how do people know right from wrong?

    Prot’s answer is wonderfully simple:

    “Mark. Every being in the universe knows right from wrong.”

    Put these two ideas beside each other and the difference is profound.

    One says we need rules and values to help us decide what is right and wrong.

    The other says we already know.

    So which is it?

    And if Prot is right, how many rules do we actually need?

    Morality

    Perhaps morality isn’t fundamentally a system of rules at all.

    Perhaps what we call morality is something much deeper.

    Awareness

    If you truly experience another being as another expression of the same life you are experiencing, do you really need a rule telling you not to hurt them?

    If you are fully aware of the suffering your actions cause, do you need a law to explain that causing suffering is wrong?

    If you truly understand your dependence on the biosphere around you, do you need a moral doctrine telling you that poisoning the water you drink, destroying the soil that feeds you and destabilizing the climate you depend upon might not be a particularly good idea?

    The important distinction is that this awareness does not necessarily have to be taught.

    It may already be there.

    Look at very young children before we have had much opportunity to teach them about economics, status, careers, property or social hierarchy. They certainly aren’t perfect little saints. They can be demanding, angry, impulsive and completely absorbed in their immediate needs and wants.

    But they can also display astonishingly spontaneous empathy, affection and concern for another being.

    Perhaps children don’t gradually acquire some mysterious moral substance as they grow older.

    Perhaps something else happens.

    Layers accumulate.

    The Ego

    We learn that this is mine.

    That is yours.

    We learn status.

    We learn comparison.

    We learn competition.

    We learn that some people have more and others have less.

    We learn that having more can make us important.

    We learn that losing what we possess can make us vulnerable.

    And gradually the separate self becomes enormously important.

    In a way, the monetary system reinforces the ego.

    But the ego did not begin with money.

    Human beings were territorial, possessive, competitive and violent long before anyone invented coins, banks or stock markets.

    Money didn’t create the ego.

    If anything, the causal relationship originally ran in the opposite direction.

    Money had its conception in the ego.

    Once I perceive myself as fundamentally separate from you, a trading system makes perfect sense.

    I have something.

    You have something.

    If you want what I have, I don’t simply give it to you, because then I will have less.

    So you give me something in return.

    Eventually barter becomes cumbersome, and we invent something vastly more practical: a commonly accepted representation of value that can mediate exchange.

    Money.

    It was ingenious.

    It allowed increasingly complex civilizations to coordinate exchange among millions and eventually billions of people who didn’t know or trust one another.

    But something fascinating happened along the way.

    The system that emerged from the ego began reinforcing the ego itself.

    The Feedback Loop

    As more and more of human civilization became organized around money, ownership and trading, people increasingly had to behave according to that logic.

    Accumulation became security.

    Possession became status.

    Competition became survival.

    More became success.

    Other human beings became not only friends, lovers, relatives and neighbors, but serfs, kings, queens, customers, competitors, employers, employees, landlords, tenants, creditors and debtors.

    And because access to almost everything required money, participation wasn’t optional.

    You could be the most generous person in the world and still need money for food.

    You could believe deeply in sharing and still need to pay your rent.

    You could hate competition and still have to compete for a job.

    You could care enormously about the environment and still participate every day in an economy structurally dependent upon consumption and using polluting vehicles.

    The system didn’t create the ego.

    But it exercised it.

    Rewarded it.

    Normalized it.

    Expanded it.

    And eventually the relationship became a feedback loop.

    The ego helped create the monetary system.

    The monetary system strengthened the ego.

    Generation after generation grew up inside that loop until eventually we began mistaking the behavior it produced for our fundamental human nature.

    Humans are selfish.

    Humans are greedy.

    Humans will always compete.

    People won’t contribute unless they are rewarded.

    Nobody will share unless they get something in return.

    Without ownership, nobody will take care of anything.

    Without the threat of punishment, people will simply do whatever they can get away with.

    Maybe.

    But there is another possibility.

    Perhaps we have spent so long looking at humanity through the system we created that we have forgotten what lies underneath it.

    Helping Strangers

    Because underneath all of this, something stubbornly refuses to disappear.

    People love unconditionally.

    People care.

    People help strangers from whom they will never receive anything in return.

    People risk their lives for other people.

    People give away their time.

    People comfort someone who is suffering.

    People rescue animals.

    People create music, art, dance and literature without knowing whether anybody will ever pay for it.

    People care for children and elderly parents without issuing invoices.

    We do these things every day.

    And very often there is no transaction whatsoever. And no laws or rules telling us to do it.

    Perhaps these aren’t exceptions to human nature.

    Perhaps they reveal it.

    Perhaps beneath the egoic layers of separation, possession, comparison and competition is an awareness that never disappeared.

    Our True Core

    Not something that needs to be manufactured.

    But something that needs room to emerge.

    And from that perspective, humanity’s problem begins to look very different.

    Maybe we don’t need to somehow manufacture eight billion better human beings.

    Maybe we need to stop constructing civilization in ways that continually bring out the worst in the human beings we already have.

    Waking Up

    This is fundamental to the future civilization I describe in Waking Up – A journey towards a new dawn for humanity.

    Humanity did not suddenly become a different species.

    Nor did some enlightened government impose a new moral code on everyone and finally teach humanity how to behave.

    Humanity woke up.

    Not completely. Not magically. Not overnight.

    But enough.

    Enough people began seeing through the layers of separation we had constructed around ourselves.

    Enough people began recognizing that humanity wasn’t billions of independent economic units competing against one another.

    We were one species.

    On one planet.

    Dependent upon one biosphere.

    Sharing one future.

    And as that awareness began shining through, the civilization built by the ego started looking increasingly absurd.

    Why were humans competing for resources they could manage cooperatively?

    Why were abundant things artificially restricted because somebody couldn’t afford them?

    Why were enormous amounts of resources wasted while other people went without?

    Why were we destroying ecosystems upon which all of us depended because destruction could sometimes be more profitable than preservation?

    Why were billions of people spending their lives trying to acquire enough money to gain access to resources that already existed?

    Why had we organized the resources of an entire planet around ownership and exchange rather than intelligent stewardship and access?

    Why did we go to war for these resources when we could just as well optimize all resources to work for everyone?

    The answers increasingly came back to the same thing.

    We had built civilization around separation.

    And once humanity became sufficiently aware of that, we could begin building something else.

    The Other Loop

    This is where system change and inner change become inseparable.

    Humanity had created the monetary system partly from the ego, and the monetary system had subsequently strengthened the ego.

    But the same feedback mechanism could operate in another direction.

    Awareness could create a different system.

    And that system could create conditions in which awareness was no longer constantly buried beneath fear, competition and scarcity.

    If your access to food, shelter and healthcare doesn’t depend upon defeating somebody else economically, one enormous source of competition disappears.

    If resources are stewarded rather than owned, accumulation loses its meaning.

    If access replaces exchange, another human being no longer needs to become a source of income before cooperation makes practical sense.

    If production is organized around actual human and ecological needs rather than monetary return, waste stops being economically useful.

    The new civilization doesn’t force people to become less selfish.

    It stops constantly rewarding selfishness.

    It doesn’t manufacture compassion.

    It stops creating so many conditions that suppress it.

    It doesn’t teach humanity some entirely new morality.

    It allows something already inside us to become visible again.

    The feedback loop reverses.

    Ego created a system that strengthened ego.

    Awareness creates a system that strengthens awareness.

    And perhaps that is what awakening really means.

    The Rules

    Would such a civilization have no rules?

    Of course not.

    Human beings still need coordination.

    We need to agree which side of the road to drive on. Aircraft need communication procedures. Buildings need engineering standards. Computer systems need protocols. Shared resources need systems for determining how they are used.

    Awareness cannot always tell you whether everyone should drive on the right or the left.

    Those aren’t moral rules.

    They are practical agreements.

    The more interesting question is how many rules we need to prevent ourselves from harming each other.

    How many rules against exploitation do we need when there is nothing to gain from exploiting somebody?

    How many rules against theft do we need when access has replaced ownership?

    How many rules against fraud do we need when there is no monetary advantage to obtain through fraud?

    How many environmental regulations do we need when humanity genuinely understands that destroying the biosphere means destroying the foundation of our own existence?

    Maybe the highest form of civilization isn’t the civilization with the most sophisticated system of rules.

    Maybe it is the civilization that needs the fewest.

    And that brings us back to Prot.

    “Every being in the universe knows right from wrong.”

    Maybe he wasn’t talking about laws at all.

    Maybe he was talking about what remains when enough of everything we have piled on top of ourselves has fallen away.

    Not morality imposed from outside.

    Not obedience.

    Not fear of punishment.

    Awareness.

    And perhaps the great task facing humanity isn’t to learn what is right and wrong.

    Perhaps, somewhere underneath everything else, we already know.

    We just need to wake up.

    Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity is a story about what might happen if humanity did exactly that.

    A hundred years from 2015, Benjamin Michaels wakes into a civilization that has left money, ownership and competition behind—not because humanity was forced to become something different, but because we finally became aware enough to build a world reflecting something that had been inside us all along.

    Discover his story

    Maybe the future isn’t about becoming better human beings.

    Maybe it’s about remembering who we are.

  • The Practical Advantage

    The Practical Advantage

    Humanity is remarkably good at disagreeing.

    We disagree about politics, economics, religion, borders, culture, ideology and almost everything else we can possibly find to disagree about.

    And yet, quietly underneath all this disagreement, we have managed to agree on an astonishing number of things.

    International Coordination

    A meter is a meter everywhere on Earth. A second is a second. A minute contains sixty seconds, an hour sixty minutes, and a day twenty-four hours. We organize our lives around days, weeks, months and years, and most of the world uses the same civil calendar. We have internationally coordinated time standards and time zones. We use latitude and longitude to describe where we are on the planet. Scientists use common units, symbols and terminology. Ships navigate using international standards. Aircraft cross borders using internationally coordinated systems. Computers communicate through common protocols. Shipping containers are built to standardized dimensions so they can travel from a truck to a train to a ship and halfway around the planet.

    Even our electrical civilization runs overwhelmingly on the same basic principle: AC – Alternating Current. We haven’t quite managed to agree on the voltage, frequency or plugs everywhere—apparently that would have been asking too much—but the fundamental technology became nearly universal.

    Why?

    Not because humanity held a giant meeting and everybody finally agreed to get along.

    Practical Advantage

    Because these things had one thing in common: the practical advantage.

    That may be one of the most powerful forces behind universal adoption.

    The Universal Adoption

    When something makes life easier, safer, more efficient or simply more practical—and particularly when everybody benefits from using compatible systems—it has an extraordinary tendency to spread.

    And there is another universally adopted system that we rarely think about in this way.

    Money.

    The Money Standard

    We don’t have one universal currency. We have dollars, euros, pounds, yen, yuan, kroner, pesos, rupees and many others.

    But the underlying concept of money has become universal.

    Why did humanity adopt this  pervasive system so comprehensively?

    Again, the answer may be remarkably mundane.

    Practical advantage.

    The history of money is of course more complicated than the familiar story that people once wandered around trying to exchange chickens for shoes. Early monetary systems were also connected to debt, accounting, taxation and commodities.

    But the fundamental advantage remains.

    Money made economic accounting and exchange enormously easier.

    Instead of every transaction depending upon a direct exchange between two people who happened to possess exactly what the other wanted, value could be represented by a commonly accepted medium. 

    That was an enormous practical improvement.

    Brilliant.

    And that is precisely the point.

    Money didn’t become universal because it was sacred. It became universal because it worked.

    It was a technology.

    Perhaps one of the most successful technologies humanity ever invented.

    The Other Side

    But money also did something else.

    Once access to resources became dependent upon purchasing power, possessing more money meant gaining access to more resources.

    And that created an extraordinary incentive to accumulate it.

    Money did not invent greed. Human beings were perfectly capable of greed long before the modern monetary system existed.

    But money gave greed a remarkably efficient instrument.

    Unlike physical needs and resources, monetary accumulation has no natural endpoint.

    There is only so much food a person can eat. There are only so many clothes anyone can wear. There is a practical limit to how much housing, transportation and material comfort a human being actually needs.

    Money has no equivalent limit.

    Once wealth can be expressed numerically, accumulation itself becomes measurable—and potentially limitless. More can always become more.

    And because money represents purchasing power, greater accumulation means greater potential claims upon the resources, products and labor of the world.

    The result is the extraordinary inequality we see today. Some individuals control fortunes larger than the economic output of entire countries, while other human beings struggle to obtain adequate food, shelter, clean water, education and healthcare.

    But this article isn’t really about condemning money.

    It is about something much more interesting:

    What if the same process that made money successful eventually makes it obsolete?

    Practical Advantage

    Think again about why standards spread.

    We didn’t standardize measurement because meters are morally superior to feet.

    We didn’t adopt international aviation standards because pilots suddenly developed a common political ideology.

    We didn’t standardize shipping containers because rectangular steel boxes represent a higher state of human consciousness.

    We did these things because they worked.

    Standardization offered a practical advantage.

    And that raises a fascinating possibility.

    What happens when a moneyless system begins to offer a greater practical advantage than a monetary one?

    Because the world in which money emerged and the world we are entering are radically different.

    For most of human history, producing things required enormous amounts of human labor. Information traveled slowly. Transportation was difficult. Knowing exactly what millions—or billions—of people needed was impossible.  Knowing what resources existed, where they existed and how efficiently they could be distributed was equally difficult. In came the the monetary system.

    The Solution to Distribution

    Money and markets provided a remarkably effective mechanism for coordinating much of this complexity. Although far from perfect,   the monetary system at least provided one possible way to refine and distribute resources and products. Money became the solution to distribution. If you had money you could buy everything you needed.

    But Look at What is Happening Now

    Artificial intelligence can process quantities of information that no human administration could possibly handle. Automation can manufacture products with progressively less human labor. Robotics can increasingly build, harvest, transport, sort and distribute. Global communication is effectively instantaneous. Satellites, sensors and databases can monitor resources and infrastructure. Modern logistics systems already coordinate astonishingly complex global supply chains.

    We are building something humanity has never possessed before:

    the technological capacity to coordinate resources directly on a planetary scale.

    And if that becomes easier and more fair than coordinating them through money, something very interesting happens.

    Money loses its practical advantage.

    The Complicated System

    We tend to assume that a moneyless civilization would require some impossibly complicated system.

    How would we keep track of everything? How would we know what people need? How would we know what to produce? How would we distribute it?

    Fair questions.

    But perhaps we should first look at the system we already have.

    Consider the extraordinary infrastructure required merely to keep money functioning: governments, banks, payment processors, accounting departments, tax authorities, auditors, insurance companies, debt collectors, stock exchanges, currency exchanges, mortgage systems, credit-rating agencies, investment funds, financial regulators, billing departments and payroll departments.

    Every business has to keep track of revenue, expenses, salaries, taxes, profits, losses, invoices, debts and payments.

    Every individual has to have a job, work, earn money, receive money, store money, spend money, save money, borrow money, repay money and frequently worry about whether enough money will remain at the end of the month.

    We have constructed an astonishingly complicated global technological system whose purpose is largely to keep track of who owns what and who owes what to whom.

    And the problem is not merely that this system is complicated.

    Look at what it has helped us do to the planet.

    We have extracted resources at enormous scale because resources can be converted into products, products into sales and sales into money. We have cut forests, mined mountains, depleted fisheries, burned enormous quantities of fossil fuels and manufactured billions upon billions of products—not simply according to what humanity actually needs, but according to what can be profitably produced and sold. And we have to constantly consume, consume and consume more to keep the system alive. Only a small drop in global consumption threatens to collapse the whole system.

    We have created products designed to be replaced, enormous advertising industries dedicated to making us want more, and an economic system in which reducing consumption can itself become an economic problem.

    The consequences are all around us: polluted air and water, plastic in the oceans, toxic waste, depleted resources, destroyed habitats, biodiversity loss, greenhouse-gas emissions and climate change.

    And then there is the human cost.

    Throughout history, people, companies, kingdoms and nations have competed for land, resources, trade routes, markets, wealth and economic power. Money is certainly not the only cause of conflict and war, but struggles over resources and economic interests have repeatedly been woven through human conflict.

    At the individual level, billions of people spend enormous portions of their lives trying to acquire enough purchasing power simply to maintain access to food, housing, transportation, healthcare and the other necessities of life.

    Some accumulate extraordinary fortunes.

    Others have almost nothing.

    And somehow we have become so accustomed to all of this that when somebody suggests replacing the system with direct, intelligent management and sharing of the world’s resources, our immediate response is:

    But wouldn’t that be complicated?

    Complicated compared to what?

    Perhaps the monetary system isn’t merely complicated.

    Perhaps it has become the biggest threat to the survival of humanity.

    And perhaps today’s technology finally allows us to replace all this indirect monetary accounting with something far more relevant:

    direct accounting of the planet itself.

    Accounting for Reality

    Accounting doesn’t have to disappear.

    We simply change what we account for.

    Instead of primarily accounting for monetary value, we account for the physical reality underneath it.

    How much food is available? How much energy? How much water? What materials do we have? What is being consumed? What needs to be produced? Where are shortages developing? Where is there excess capacity? What can be repaired, reused or recycled? What do people actually need? What can the planet sustainably provide?

    Those are the numbers that ultimately matter.

    Resources.

    Production.

    Availability.

    Demand.

    Need.

    Ecological impact.

    An advanced technological system could continuously optimize the relationship between them.

    We have already agreed upon all the different measuring systems we need: Distance, weight, time, location.

    Now we only have to agree upon the best production and distribution system. 

    This doesn’t require infinite resources.

    There will always be limitations. There is only so much land on Earth. Certain minerals are scarce. Certain locations are desirable. Environmental boundaries are real.

    But scarcity doesn’t automatically require money. Maybe before but not today.

    Scarcity requires allocation.

    And perhaps an advanced technological civilization can allocate limited resources more intelligently by looking at availability, sustainability and actual need than by asking who happens to possess the greatest purchasing power.

    The Next Standard

    Imagine a global system where requesting something you need becomes as ordinary as using the internet.

    You need transportation. You request it.

    You need food. You obtain it.

    You need materials for a project. The system checks availability.

    You need somewhere to live. Available housing and resources are matched with actual requirements.

    Behind all of this, AI and automated systems continuously monitor production, resources, demand, environmental impact and distribution.

    No price needs to be calculated. No credit card needs to be charged. No invoice needs to be generated. No salary needs to be deducted. No VAT needs to be calculated. No bank needs to approve anything.

    The important questions become:

    What is needed?

    What is available?

    What is the most intelligent and sustainable way of connecting the two?

    At some point, that may become considerably simpler than money.

    And if it does, we may witness something that initially sounds revolutionary but is actually deeply consistent with human history.

    Humanity has repeatedly adopted new systems for the same remarkably simple reason. It was more practical.

    The Summit for a New Standard

    Here’s a couple of examples of how humanity solved global coordination in the past.

    Bretton Woods

    In 1944 at Bretton Woods, central bankers and economists gathered to build the modern monetary system out of financial chaos after the war.

    The Meridian Conference

    Sixty years earlier, at the 1884 Meridian Conference, a very different group—diplomats, astronomers, and engineers—met to fix conflicting clocks and maps, establishing 0 longitude at Greenwich simply because global transport required a shared baseline.

    The Third Gathering

    Now imagine a third gathering: a modern planetary summit.

    This time, the delegates are not central bankers managing inflation, nor navigators mapping oceans. They are systems engineers, logistics architects, and computer scientists. Instead of debating currency pegs or interest rates, they develop a single agreement: to retire indirect monetary accounting entirely and transition planetary resource coordination to an automated, intelligent network.

    It sounds like a radical leap. But every time humanity has replaced a fragmented, friction-heavy system with a universal standard, it felt revolutionary right up until the moment it became obvious.

    But of course, unlike the top-down summits of the past, a transition of this scale today would not be decided behind closed doors, but chosen directly by the global population through modern tools of direct, real-time digital democracy.

    Easier Than Money

    Money solved an enormous problem.

    We should give it credit for that.

    But technologies don’t remain useful forever simply because they were once useful.

    Transformative Technologies

    The horse transformed transportation. The steam engine transformed industry. The telegraph transformed communication. Paper maps transformed navigation.

    And when something better came along, we moved on.

    Money deserves the same question.

    Not:

    Is money good or evil?

    But:

    Is money still the easiest and most intelligent way to coordinate the resources of an advanced technological civilization?

    For thousands of years, the answer may reasonably have been yes.

    For the future, it may increasingly become no.

    Because the great irony could be that humanity doesn’t eventually abandon money because everybody becomes enlightened, altruistic or politically united.

    We may abandon it for exactly the same reason we adopted it.

    Practical advantage.

    Perhaps the next great universal standard will not be another currency.

    Perhaps it will be the realization that we no longer need one.

    In the novel Waking Up: A Journey Towards a New Dawn for Humanity, humanity has made that realization and abandoned money entirely. 

    Follow the bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels when he wakes up in this world after 100 years of cryonic preservation..

    Discover his story

  • Just for the love of it

    Just for the love of it

    A friend of mine in Norway runs a small music blog called Volum11.no

    No Corporate Backing

    The name itself is a little music joke. It comes from the rockumentary film This Is Spinal Tap, where one of the musicians proudly points to his amplifier and says, “This one goes to 11.” It’s exactly the kind of reference only a true music enthusiast would choose.

    He has no sponsors. No corporate backing. No business plan.

    He simply listens and writes.

    He writes about old albums, new albums, forgotten artists and modern classics. He dissects production techniques, musicianship, lyrics and atmosphere. But he also digs into the lives of the artists themselves—their childhoods, the bands they formed, the musicians they collaborated with, are influenced of and the creative journeys that shaped their music.

    Reading his articles feels less like reading reviews and more like traveling through music history.

    And he does it simply because he loves music.

    Not because anyone told him to.
    Not because the government assigned him to do it.
    Not because there is huge money in it.

    But simply because he loves it.

    Reading his articles feels less like reading reviews and more like traveling through music history.

    Why Work?

    This made me think of a chapter I recently read in Robin Everett Cox’s excellent book What Comes Next? Volume 1: The Illusion of Money: Why We Need a “System Upgrade”.

    The chapter is called “Why Work?”, and it asks one of the most fundamental questions of all.

    Why do we work?

    Many would say, “because we need money”. And that wouldn’t be wrong of course. In the context we are in.

    But Robin points to the remarkable response during the COVID-19 pandemic in England, when millions of people volunteered to help total strangers without expecting anything in return. According to Patrick Butler, writing in The Guardian:

    “In the space of a few weeks of corona virus lockdown England acquired a million-strong network of social volunteers – surpassing demand and prompting speculation: is this a new sign of social solidarity, and can the newly acquired community spirit survive?”

    Robin then writes:

    “It is inherent to volunteering that volunteers don’t receive payment for their time. As author Sherry Anderson said, ‘Volunteers don’t get paid, not because they’re worthless, but because they’re priceless.’ Putting a price tag on their labour not only negates their status as volunteers; some studies suggest that, when offered a financial reward, they are inclined to work less and with markedly less enthusiasm.

    In short, money can undermine our ‘intrinsic motivation’ to work.”

    — Robin Everett Cox, What Comes Next? Volume 1: The Illusion of Money

    That paragraph stayed with me.

    Our Intrinsic Motivation

    “money can undermine our ‘intrinsic motivation’ to work.”

    Really?

    If so, perhaps we’ve been asking ourselves the wrong question for centuries.

    We’ve built an entire civilization around the assumption that money is what motivates people.

    Without money, people wouldn’t work.

    Without salaries, nobody would contribute.

    Without financial incentives, civilization would collapse.

    But is that really true?

    Volunteers Helping Strangers

    When I look around, I don’t see a world driven only by money. Of course, I see people work for money, but that is only because we live within a monetary system that demands money for almost everything. But if there wasn’t any money in the first place, I think we would still work just as much. But for different reasons. Even in today’s world I see lots of work being done for reasons other than money.

    I see volunteers helping strangers.

    I see parents dedicating countless unpaid hours to raising children.

    I see programmers building free open-source software that powers much of the internet.

    I see people contributing to Wikipedia.

    I see neighbors helping neighbors after floods, fires and earthquakes.

    I see people restoring old cars simply because they love them.

    I see gardeners spending weekends growing flowers and vegetables.

    I see musicians playing, improvising and composing music.

    Artists painting.

    Writers writing.

    Dancers dancing.

    And then I look at the work people actually get paid to do.

    The Salary is Not the Dream

    Many farmers don’t become farmers because they’re chasing wealth. They genuinely love farming. They love being outdoors, working with the seasons and watching life grow from the soil.

    Many builders love construction. They enjoy seeing something tangible rise from an empty plot of land. Something useful. Something needed.

    Many teachers love watching children discover something new.

    Many nurses love caring for people.

    Many security guards and police officers genuinely enjoy being of service and helping others feel safe.

    Many engineers love solving problems.

    Many scientists love discovering how the world works.

    Many chefs love cooking.

    For countless people, the salary is not the dream.

    It is simply what allows them to continue doing what they already love.

    Of course, not everyone has their dream job. Many people work in jobs they would happily leave tomorrow if they could.

    But perhaps that, too, tells us something.

    Whenever people have the opportunity, they usually try to move closer to what genuinely interests them.

    They change careers.

    Start businesses.

    Study new subjects.

    Write books.

    Learn instruments.

    Travel.

    Volunteer.

    Create.

    Because something inside them keeps pulling them toward meaning.

    Toward curiosity.

    Toward contribution.

    Toward joy.

    Maybe that’s what it really means to be human.

    Maybe we are not naturally lazy beings who must constantly be bribed into contributing.

    Maybe we are naturally curious beings who want to create, build, care, discover and share.

    If that’s true, then perhaps the real purpose of a civilization should not be to figure out how to coerce people to work.

    Perhaps it should be to make it as easy as possible for people to do what they genuinely love.

    But no, no. We have to buy, sell, compete, extract, consume, argue, earn money, go to war, hoard more, stress more, go bankrupt, start all over again and constantly tricking each other into buying as much as physically possible. 

    Imagine what humanity might become if that was not our starting point.

    But rather: A civilization where people aren’t asking:

    “How can I make a living?”

    But instead:

    “How can I best contribute?”

    Maybe that’s not an impossible dream.

    Maybe we already see glimpses of it every single day.

    In volunteers.

    In artists.

    In teachers.

    In farmers.

    In builders.

    In musicians.

    Reward

    There is another assumption buried deeply within our economic thinking: that human beings need to receive something from somebody else in return for everything they do. A reciprocal service.

    Money.

    A favour.

    A product.

    A service.

    Some kind of trade.

    Otherwise, why bother?

    But perhaps the answer is staring us in the face.

    The reward can be in the task itself.

    The musician doesn’t necessarily need somebody to reward her for playing music. Playing music is the reward.

    The gardener doesn’t need somebody to compensate him for tending his garden. Watching it grow and enjoying the fresh air and nature can be the reward in itself.

    The farmer can experience enormous satisfaction from seeing the first shoots emerge from the soil.

    The builder can stand back at the end of the day and look at something that didn’t exist before.

    And my friend doesn’t spend hours researching the history of musicians and writing articles for Volum 11 because he expects somebody to give him something of equivalent value in return.

    He enjoys doing it.

    The reward lies in doing what you love.

    There can also be another kind of reward—one that doesn’t require a direct exchange.

    Think again about those volunteers in England. They weren’t thinking, I’ll help this particular person today as long as this particular person promises to repay me tomorrow.

    There was no contract.

    No invoice.

    No balance sheet.

    Perhaps many simply understood something much more fundamental:

    We all benefit from living in a society where people help one another.

    I contribute when I can. Someone else contributes when they can. And when I eventually need help, likely somebody will be there for me too.

    Nobody has to keep score.

    That isn’t really trade at all.

    It is participation in a society in which people contribute because they care about what they are doing—and about each other.

    GROJ

    This is an idea I played with in my novel Waking Up.

    In the future civilization Benjamin Michaels awakens to, money has disappeared. But the people jokingly say they still have a “currency”.

    They call it GROJ: Gratitude, Love, Joy.

    It is a rather peculiar currency.

    You can’t put it in a bank.

    You can’t hoard it.

    You can’t accumulate enough of it to become a billionaire.

    In fact, GROJ works almost exactly opposite to money.

    The more you give away, the more you get.

    Help somebody, and you may receive gratitude while experiencing the joy of having helped.

    Create something beautiful and share it, and that joy can spread to other people and come back to you in addition to the joy you felt when creating it.

    Give love, and you may find yourself surrounded by more of it.

    Nobody needs to keep score.

    Maybe this is the kind of reward we have underestimated.

    Not everything valuable needs to come back to us as payment or ROI.

    Sometimes doing it is the reward.

    Sometimes giving it away is the reward.

    And sometimes the richest person in the room might simply be the one experiencing the most gratitude, love and joy.

    In people like my friend in Norway, quietly writing article after article about music…

    Just for the love of it.

    A World Like That

    What if we actually had a world like that? Where everyone only did what they genuinely loved doing?

    In the novel Waking Up – A journey towards a new dawn for humanity, the bewildered billionaire Benjamin Michaels wakes up in a world exactly like that. And through his eyes you can get a glimpse into that world too.

    Discover his story

    Further reading:

    Robin Everett Cox – What Comes Next? Volume 1: The Illusion of Money: Why We Need a “System Upgrade”

    Volum11 – https://www.volum11.no

    Harald Neslein Sandø – Waking Up – A journey towards a new dawn for humanity