*Note that graphics in this post are copied from the Doughnut Economics website.

There are those who say that every human being (at least those on Earth) deserves to be guaranteed the basic necessities of life – food, shelter, healthcare, social justice, etc. Others, often many of the same, say that we humans must, for our own survival, change our whole relationship with Earth so that we can live without exceeding the planet’s carrying capacity. Many say we can’t have it both ways.

British economist Kate Raworth, in her 2017 book Doughnut Economics: seven ways to think like a 21st century economist, says we can. And the worldwide movement inspired by the book, called the Doughnut Economics Action Lab (DEAL), is exploring and demonstrating how it can be done by thinking about and practicing economics in a new, 21^st century, way.

Why economics, one might ask? Well, it makes sense if we realize that the word “economics” derives from the Greek word meaning “household management”. Thus, how we take care of our home. If we think of Earth as our home, which she is, we have to admit that we’ve done a lousy job of it. Clearly, Earth is not amused and has been giving us, increasingly in frequency and severity, deadly slaps upside the head (hurricanes, floods, droughts, earthquakes, heat waves) in an effort to wake us up to our incompetence. And we’d better wake up lest she fires us from our management job and kicks us out of the house.

The seven ways to transform economic thinking and practice are summarized in the diagram below. More details are given in the book and on the website.

The website also provides concrete examples – via 390 (so far!) stories – of how the principles of Doughnut Economics are being put into practice in countries around the world. Check ‘em out!

Prologue

“On January 23, 2023, a spree shooting occurred at two nearby farms in Half Moon Bay, California. Seven people were killed and an eighth person was critically injured. It was described as ‘workplace violence.’" Source: Wikipedia

Context

Motivated by its motto, “One Earth, One Humanity, One Future”, the Elders Action Network has, since its establishment in 2014, dedicated itself to “building a movement of elders to address the social, environmental, and governance crises of our time.” EAN is a nationwide organization of thousands of elders (and undoubtedly a fair number of not-so-elders, as well) working to accomplish that mission through various educational programs and action teams (e.g., Social Justice, Sound Democracy, Regenerative Living, and more).

In the fall of 2023, EAN conducted a visioning and strategic planning process, which I took part in. As an exercise, we were asked to project ourselves out 20 years and describe a scene from 2045 that could help shape a vision to inform our planning. Inspired by the atrocious murders of farm workers in nearby Half Moon Bay a few months earlier, I chose to write the story below as my contribution to that effort.

FYI, the “donut” mentioned in the story is a reference to the book Doughnut Economics: seven ways to think like a 21st century economist, by British economist Kate Raworth. That concept, for which several demonstration projects are underway in various places around the world, is definitely worthy of being cast here as a Ray of Dawn, and I’ll at some point focus a separate post on it. Briefly, it’s a way communities large and small can structure their economics so that everybody is guaranteed the basic necessities of life – food, shelter, healthcare, social justice, etc. – all without exceeding Earth’s carrying capacity.

Also, another Ray of Dawn in this story that I will someday write more about is the citizens’ assembly. A citizens’ assembly is an inclusive, participatory democratic process in which a representative cross-section of citizens come together to make substantive decisions for their local community.

So, here’s the story of how things could look in 2045.

Vision: A Story of 2045

Eva hesitates a moment before opening the door. “Ahora, sí,” she whispers softly to herself. Then, taking a deep breath, she straightens her skirt, checks her hair and makeup, crosses herself, and enters the Assembly chamber. As she walks to take her place with other Assembly members at the circular table in the center of the room, she glances around at the people entering through the large double doors opposite her. She waves and nods at the family and friends who have come to see her off on this grand adventure, who are already seated in the first row of the audience.

This is to be Eva’s first meeting as a member of the Half Moon Bay Citizens’ Assembly, and she’s understandably nervous. As she waits for the meeting to begin, she wonders to herself, “Dios mío, why in the world am I here? How did this happen? I should be home with Pedro, putting the kids to bed. Instead, there he is, beaming at me with pride. Gracias a Dios that mi suegra, Pedro’s mother, said she could stay with them so he could be here.”

Three months ago, on Indigenous People’s Day, at a big public celebratory event, Eva and five other residents of Half Moon Bay were selected, in a stratified random drawing, to serve the next two years on the HMB Citizens’ Assembly. They are replacing the six who have completed their term and cycled off and joining six others who will be serving their second year. Eva’s cohorts on the Assembly include farming folks such as herself, high tech workers who commute daily over the hill to Silicon Valley, local shopkeepers, retirees enjoying the coastal life, gardeners, household help, etc. Essentially, a representative cross-section of the people of Half Moon Bay.

This system of local governance has been in place for the past 10 years, ever since the citizens of HMB voted for a new city charter, replacing the city council form of government with the Citizens’ Assembly. The new charter, in part sparked by the horrific 2023 murder of farm workers, also provided that, in place of a mayor appointed by the city council each year, the Assembly would be chaired by a monthly rotation of members, essentially a Chair-of-the-Month.

As for Eva, her family moved here from Fresno 35 years ago, in 2010, and has ever since been working the fields in Half Moon Bay and up the coast as far as Montara – everything from artichokes and brussels sprouts to pumpkins and zucchini. Eva, who was born a few years after the move, met Pedro in high school, after which they married and started a family of their own. First to arrive was Panchito, now six and in first grade. Rosita, now in pre-school, followed him a couple of years later.

To support their young family, Pedro, always enthusiastic and full of energy, exercised his entrepreneurial and mechanical talents and passions by starting up his own auto repair shop. In the early days of his business, he worked on the few gasoline-powered vehicles and hybrids still on the road along with the increasingly ubiquitous EVs, but EVs are the only vehicles out there, now, except for bicycles and electric scooters, the rest consigned to junkyards and history. Eva, for her part, works from home, drawing on her growing reputation as a talented seamstress.

Eva and Pedro had to think long and hard, though, about whether Eva should accept the civic responsibility of serving as a member of the Assembly. They had many discussions, with each other as well as family and friends, about the pros and cons, for her and the family, of such an undertaking. While both an honor and an opportunity, the position would require a fair amount of her time and attention and thus, especially for a family in their socioeconomic situation, would present both financial and childcare challenges and risks, despite the Universal Basic Income they and everyone else enjoys.

Fortunately, the Half Moon Bay community foresaw such considerations when designing the Citizens’ Assembly. An essential feature of the Assembly is that its membership truly represents a cross-section of the community. Thus, provision is made in the city charter that assembly members who need it qualify for community-provided childcare, family healthcare, and supplemental income (in addition to the regular Citizens’ Assembly stipend), thus enabling and ensuring equitable representation. In addition, from the moment they are chosen, new Assembly members are given an intensive three-month orientation and training program to prepare them for the critical community role they are embarking on.

While waiting for the meeting to begin, Eva thinks about how much she is looking forward to one particular issue that the Assembly will be taking up during her tenure. She’s not sure what it is exactly. When it was presented to her group in the training program, the trainers said it has something to do with donuts, which immediately made her salivate at the thought of warm, sugary churros melting in her mouth. Eva quickly learned, though, that “donut” was a metaphor for something much more profound and truly visionary. And, so, she’s eager to learn more about how the Assembly can set in motion a system that would extend community-wide benefits such as the ones available to Assembly members to ensure that no member of the community falls below basic, minimal standards of access to healthcare, education, housing, income, and meaningful employment.

And, now, the moment has arrived. Promptly at 7:30 on this evening of the second Monday of the year, and with all Assembly members present, the sound of a banging gavel snaps Eva out of her reverie and to attention.

“The January 9, 2045, meeting of the Half Moon Bay Citizens’ Assembly is hereby called to order”, the chair-of-the-month announces with both firm authority and an excited grin on her face.

The hubbub in the room becomes still. Except for Eva’s heart, which is beating anxiously. But only she can hear that. Eva smiles confidently as she leans across the table and forward into the proceedings.

Some of those blades take form in efforts around the globe to build and strengthen local, adaptive, resilient communities. Communities of neighborliness. Communities of compassion. Communities of peace.

I rarely, if ever, read the sports section. A recent article in the San Francisco Chronicle, however, caught my eye. It was about community-based baseball springing up in Oakland. The minor league Oakland Ballers have come to town to fill the pro baseball void left when the major league Athletics took a gamble on winning bigger bucks in Vegas. This week, 4200 fans came to the baseball field within a city park to cheer and literally mingle with the community-crowdfunded Ballers as they hosted the Ogden Raptors. For the A’s, the Oakland Coliseum could seat a crowd over 10 times as big. One fan commented, “It just feels less contrived…It’s just the sport for the sport.”

Yes. The sport for the sport. Not so much for the money.

I love words. Especially the origin of words, their etymology. “Sport” was a verb before it became a noun. (In one context, it is still a verb, but that’s beside the point here.) From Etymonline, we have this:

sport(v.)

c. 1400, sporten, "take pleasure, enjoy or amuse oneself," from Old French desporter, deporter "to divert, amuse, please, play; to seek amusement," etymologically "carry away" (the mind from serious matters), from des- "away" (see dis-) + porter "to carry," from Latin portare "to carry" (from PIE root *per- (2) "to lead, pass over").

Hence, sports can cast rays of dawn to divert us from the day’s darkness and help carry us away to a brighter future. (All right. Go ahead and groan!)

I also love baseball.

When I was a kid, my Dad, who had played shortstop in high school and college, would play catch with my brother Gary and me in the street. Further, there was no Little League in Studio City in those early days of the newly suburbanizing San Fernando Valley. So, soon after we moved there, Dad took the initiative, got other dads together, and started a team. I enjoyed suiting up and tried my hand at pitching and first base. Nevertheless, even though Dad was the coach, my playing prowess meant that I spent most of my time on the bench. When I aged out of Little League, Dad went into action again and got a Pony League and team going. Once more, I enjoyed getting into uniform, clickety-clacking around in cleated shoes, and, once in a great while, fielding fly balls in the outfield. Once more, though Dad was the coach, I spent most of my time watching from the sidelines while making myself useful as the team’s official scorekeeper.

The Pacific Coast League, an almost-major minor league, was the only source of pro baseball this far out in the Wild West hinterlands (as East Coasters no doubt thought of us in those long ago days). There were two Pacific Coast League teams in Los Angeles – the Hollywood Stars and the Los Angeles Angels, who were of course archrivals. Dad was a Hollywood Stars fan and would often take Gary and me to see a Stars game at Gilmore Field, located just east of L.A.’s Fairfax district and farmer’s market.

To this day, I relive with relish the amalgamated aromas of hot dogs with mustard, cigars swirling smoke, bags of buttered popcorn, pink clouds of cotton candy, and the leathered gloves we’d bring in hopes of snagging a passing pop foul as it flew over the screen on the first base side of home plate. I felt a special thrill one day as I scrambled over rows of seats to just below the radio broadcast booth and watched Mark Scott calling the action for the folks at home. And, oh, the incessant sounds of the game! Especially satisfying was the smack of a successfully swung bat, of ash meeting horsehide, sending the cheering crowd as one to its feet and the ball soaring out of sight into space over the left field fence!

But, as always, we grow up, and things change. In this case, the major league Dodgers came to town, the Hollywood Stars faded into history (i.e., Wikipedia), and we became dedicated Dodgers fans. But neither the vast L.A. Coliseum nor (after the 1962 move) Dodger Stadium could provide the same homey feel as Gilmore Field, where we could get close to the field, walk among the players, and stare at the radio announcers. And, akin to the Stars giving way to the Dodgers, Gilmore Field was razed to make way for a CBS Television City parking lot for the cars of other stars.

And the game itself has changed. At least, the MLB shape of it has. Now more about money than sport, even rules of how a game is played have been modified to suit commercial interests.

Maybe the Ballers can be a baseball blade of grass growing in Oakland’s Raimondi Park.

We are on the cusp of a shift in human consciousness that is calling out for a corresponding epochal shift in our social, political, and economic institutions. We need much more than tweaks of the policy dials, such as tax rates or fuel economy standards. Even much more than the huge reconfiguration of the American political, social, and economic institutions, including the Constitution itself, that many on both the Left and Right of the political spectrum would like to see.

Holistic systems thinker and global citizen Donella Meadows, in her 1999 paper “Leverage Points: Places to Intervene in a System”, counts down 12 leverage points for change, ranging from simple number tweaks (#12) all the way to a shift in worldview (#2) and even to transcending worldviews (#1) by realizing that we do have worldviews that we should accept with all due humility as mere models of our imperfect understanding of a more mysterious reality. I would guess that many of the political debates these days aim at what Meadows would call changing some of the rules of the game (#5) and carrying out some basic institutional structural reform (#4).

At this epochal moment, it is clear that we are in need of change at levels #1 and#2, with all the institutional implications consequent to such a transformational shift.

Hence, the Sunflower Model.

It didn’t start out as a sunflower. At first I just wanted to write about it – kind of like I’m doing here. I quickly became aware, however of the limitations of linear prose to convey a very nonlinear, holistic message. So, how about doing it graphically? Left-brained analyst that I am, art and graphics are not my natural habitat, so maybe doing it that way would be a learning experience outside my comfort zone.

So, I gave it a shot and came up with a classic system feedback control flow diagram. Ugh! Hardly holistic, too heavy on the head, lacking the appeal to the heart that is critical to effecting Meadows’ Level 1 and Level 2 transformations.

For some mysterious reason (or no reason at all), the image of a sunflower popped into the right side of my head. A search of online clip art came up with this stylized version of a sunflower. I don’t know why a sunflower. I suppose I could analyze it, but that would be contrary to the inspiration of the non-reason. So, let’s just leave it at that.

The resulting Sunflower Model, with its 12 elements, looks like this.

A disclaimer: all of this is my own personal way of seeing things. I make no claim to possessing the ultimate truth about any of it. Especially the truth about Truth! It’s all a sort of current snapshot of the Sunflower Model, resulting from a lifetime of readings, conversations, experiences, ponderings, questioning. Well, a partial lifetime, anyway, as I’m still here and look forward to the Sunflower Model continuing to evolve, as it surely must.

It is truly an epochal time in human history. Some despair that the world is just as violent and venal as in the ‘60s, when the dawn of the new age was heralded, and, for sure, the dark will not yield (is not yielding) willingly to the light. But the sun is coming; it is inexorable. If we climb to the top of the hill and look real carefully out across the plain, we can just barely see the first rays peeping out.

An old saw says, “Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.” Indeed, all is not smooth sailing. All too often, those rays are obscured by storm clouds, and the morning sky glows bloody red. Still, behind the storm clouds of fear and resistance, rays of dawn persist in rising. Dark secrets and customs of oppression and repression are increasingly being brought to light and thoroughly aired, as they must for healing and reconciliation.

Bob Dylan sang, “the times they are a-changin’.” And indeed they are - fast. We cannot assume a future at all like the past. In fact, we’d do better to assume it won’t be so. Not by a long shot. And paying uncritical heed to conventional wisdom may not be a wise course of action.

As Rays of Dawn continue to rise over the horizon, we may not always recognize them as such. Some may pass by, lost in the noise of the news. I will call out in The Green Pen those that happen to catch my eye. If you see some that got past me, please let me know about them (mike@thegreenpen.org) so I may add them here as Rays of Dawn.

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