Insight and inspiration in turbulent times.
Recalling the sea, the desert, and the steppe, we recognize the traces of their vastness and depth in our hearts and consciousness. This vastness and depth is what we need to remember: that the wealth and well-being we long for are not in the race for infinite growth, but in the sufficiency of the inhabited present.
In this week’s Frankly, Nate reflects on intraspecies predation (ours) and the impact psychopathic actors have on the mean and median of human behavior – in the past all the way up to our modern society.
And so now I’m home again, back to the farm, back to the book publication, back to a million things to do, back to trying to grow some produce and grow some politics that’s not far-left or far-right but equal to the present moment by dispensing with those figments of modernism and doing my bit to articulate more vital political traditions like Romanticism and distributism.
Join us for the free, online event: Beyond the Brink on November 13. Considering the unsettling present we all find ourselves in, we’ll ask Rob Hopkins, and Jacqui Patterson to help us do what feels impossible: imagine a brighter future.
There’s an old saying that I won’t spell out completely, but which most readers will certainly have heard at least once in their lives, to wit: “Don’t sh– where you eat.”
In this episode, Nate is joined by existential risk researcher Luke Kemp to explore the intricate history of societal collapse – connecting patterns of dominance hierarchies, resource control, and inequality to create societies which he calls Goliaths.
Voters in 2026 are going to be looking for answers to bread-and-butter issues. It will be up to the clean energy and environmental communities to help frame the debate in a manner that resonates with voters, particularly independents and conservative youth and builds a foundation for the 2028 elections.
I’m convinced that the more people experience the humanizing benefits of direct connections and mutual support, the more bridges can be built in the future. We can learn by doing. As the saying goes, we can act our way into different ways of thinking more easily than we can think our way into new ways of acting.
For at least the last century or so, the time around the autumn equinox has been called Harvest Home. It is a time of thanksgiving and gathering together.
The least responsible for climate change are often the ones who suffer more. Global justice demands that the world’s major emitters support vulnerable nations like Pakistan. The world must unite for this cause.
We can start with the concept of sharing, of commoning, and then try to work out together how we can common the land and potentially, what’s produced on it. It’s anarchic in the sense that it’s massively decentralised, with lots of tiny nodes that together can provide the clothing and textiles that we need to live.
Yasuní has become an emblematic place and moment where the multiple crises of our time converge: climatic, ecological, economic, and political. It is a historical knot that concentrates the global contradictions between extractivism and sustainability, between capital expansion and the defense of life.
