A New Beach

In her book, Leadership and the New Science, Margaret Wheatley recalls listening to a radio interview one evening when a massive hurricane was pounding the eastern coast of the United States. She makes reference to a geologist being interviewed who had been studying the area for years, speaking with fondness and affection about the region’s unique geology. 

She writes, “He was waiting for the storm to abate so he could get out and take a look at the hurricane's impact. The interviewer asked: “What do you expect to find when you go out there? Like the interviewer, I assumed he would present a litany of disasters –demolished homes, felled trees, eroded shoreline. But he surprised me. 

“I expect,” he said calmly, “to find a new beach.”

We are living in the midst of many storms. 

The WHO announced last week that the COVID19 pandemic has taken nearly 15M lives. This storm has revealed the vulnerability of healthcare systems around the world, as well as the lack of equitable access to treatment and vaccines. This is true in our cities and across national borders, where greatest access to care and protection correlate to levels of wealth and socioeconomic status, and racialized peoples have unjustly been “more exposed and less protected”.   Healthcare workers are exhausted, underpaid, and many are quitting their jobs – though essential, we’ve undervalued and under-resourced these critical roles and critical human beings.

Our economic environment presents a host of other viruses. The OECD reports income inequality is the highest it has been for the past half century – and the pandemic has only exacerbated this. The wealth of the 10 richest men in the world has doubled during the pandemic, increasing by $3.9 trillion, in contrast to the combined earnings of global workers falling by $3.7 trillion due to job loss in the same time period. Mounting affordability crises, 30-year record high inflation rates, and rising food and energy prices are adding pressure to an already fragile situation that is affecting everyday people in significant ways.

War is creating havoc and devastation for the people of Ukraine (and many others worldwide) – and, for our broader ideals of the liberal world order. How naive I have felt these last few months, watching this notion of a long-peace in Europe secured by globalization, joint economic interests and shared ideals, erode. The lost ground of progress. And much much more devastatingly, the lost lives, lost homes, and lost opportunity for millions of Ukrainians who continue to weather this storm with resilience, unbelievable courage, and an insistence on hope. 

All of this, alongside physical storms and a tightening window to respond. The climate crisis is shifting weather patterns and causing catastrophic floods, hurricanes, heatwaves, and wildfires – impacting natural environments, economies, and the livelihoods and wellbeing of everyone on this planet. With many admirable efforts to respond and act, we don’t seem to be able to find the political will or adequate means for intervention to stop us from driving over the edge.

These are serious storms. 

They are connected and mutually reinforcing.

And they are, in fact, bringing a litany of disasters.

And yet, I have clung to this story from Margaret Wheatley.

I keep returning to it.

I keep returning to the hope that on the other side of these crumbling systems, we might find a new beach.

This hope is reinforced by the people I engage with on a daily basis, by those working tirelessly on the frontlines of change. Those who impart their belief that if we consciously engage in the decline of these frail and failing paradigms, if we assume responsibility and act with both care and urgency, if we democratize power and decision-making, perhaps we can be part of drawing new lines where the water meets the edge.

I’ve noticed in recent conversations, a shift in the language among colleagues and collaborators working at the frontier of systems change. Few are talking about trying to prevent systems from collapsing altogether.

Instead, conversations have shifted to ask how we act as stewards to navigate collapse wisely and grow the capacity to build something new.

Some systems should die. They are harmful and destructive. The work before us is to navigate their decline well, while simultaneously designing systems that are regenerative, inclusive, and just. And importantly, to ensure that those who depend on current systems for their well-being and livelihoods are part of creating new models, practices, economies, and societal infrastructures that care for people and the planet holistically. 

I’m curious,

In the turbulence of our current storms, where are you seeing the emergence of new beaches?