Living through the second Gilded Age
For some time we Americans have been living through the country’s second Gilded Age, one that will not likely end the way the first one did.
For some time we Americans have been living through the country’s second Gilded Age, one that will not likely end the way the first one did.
A new book offers offers a welcome, up-to-date examination of social ecology as a living tradition.
Fear of death pervades our culture: many among us cringe at its mention, and indeed structure whole lives around elaborate stories of denial: we can’t really ever be dead, surely!
Several decades after the Cold War, Russia and the U.S. found themselves on eerily parallel oligarchic paths. In this episode, we trace how the world drifted from dreams of liberation to authoritarian control—and how a new generation began planting the seeds of liberty and equality once again.
By Wednesday, almost two weeks after the July 4 floods that devastated the Central Texas region that hugs the Guadalupe River, the rain had finally subsided long enough for rescue and recovery work to resume in earnest.
We need social resilience, and what greater builder of social resilience can there be than communities coming together to work for a future that gives priority to real people and places and to a life-sustaining planet.
In this article, I’ll make a case for the increasing likelihood of conflict, internationally as well as domestically within the US, and then consider some novel ideas about conflict. As we’ll see, either taking sides in an approaching battle, or refusing to do so, comes with a cost.
An unparalleled eco-philosopher, Buddhist scholar, systems theorist, and activist, Joanna dedicated her life to illuminating the interconnectedness of all life and empowering individuals and groups to confront the ecological and social crises of our time with courage and compassion.
Joanna asked the most pertinent of questions: How can I live so as to minimize suffering during this perilous moment? How can I maintain sanity, and help others to do so? What is my responsibility to future generations and other species? The answers she arrived at proved inspiring to hundreds of thousands of people around the world.
What if the Kogi story could help all of us – anywhere in the world – be more discerning in our relative processes of acculturation, helping us distinguish what is worth holding on to (or recuperating), as globalization comes knocking at our door (or screen)? With the hope of finding some answers, I set off to northern Colombia, to see what I might find.
Things caused by humanity can probably also be solved by humanity. A good place to start seems to be to make sure that the risks we face are more consistently included in things like national risk assessments or global policy making, so that we can better explore what might be done about them.
I am not claiming that we need to consider rivulets or fire or lightning as animate forms of Life. The difference in complexity is truly staggering. Yet, the comparison offers a mottled window—especially into decision-making processes that appear (via feedback/success) to be directed, or purposeful.