Yet, as has been known for a long time, ‘trend is not destiny.’ With our in-built capacities for foresight, forward thinking, anticipation and choice, there’s still time to come to grips with our predicament and to change direction. Human destiny is not set in stone. We are perhaps the only animals that can see emerging futures clearly enough to make decisions about how our everyday modus operandi can affect our collective prospects for good or ill. The big question seems to be ‘can we change course in time?’ There’s plenty of evidence to support both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers.

As I discovered during my research, this fact provides a vital clue. While many continue to be entranced by the latest technological wonders – currently iPads and 3D televisions – the keys to our future lie elsewhere. But, as I reviewed a broad range of hard copy and on-line material, I found surprisingly few pointers to that widely overlooked territory.

The Biggest Wake Up Call in History is an attempt to apply what I’ve learned over some three decades of futures and foresight work. Ironically, therefore, I had to set aside nearly all of the ‘futures literature’ and to scan more widely than ever before. As a result this work makes reference to many different fields of enquiry. Key questions that arose were: how can so many contributions fit together within a coherent whole? Also, how can many different kinds of truth be honoured and adjudicated? There’s never likely to be an answer to such questions that will satisfy everyone. Pluralism reigns. The culture wars continue – both within nations and between different cultural spheres. Nor will the post-modern tendency to critique everything subside overnight. Complexity, pluralism and difference are here to stay. That said, a method that can handle such challenges is a vital part of any credible attempt to respond to a world in deep crisis.

I’ve found an Integral perspective useful as it is perhaps most able to provide a panoramic and in-depth view of the issues and concerns before us. As a perspective and method it is far from static. It is a process that evolves and changes from year to year. To the extent the present work succeeds, it is to no little extent a result of the power, depth and inclusiveness that this perspective offers.

The work will be published as an eBook later in 2010. In the meantime here are two ‘tasters’ of what is to come – a draft introduction and chapter outline. To access the full work, you may want to bookmark this weblog and check back from time to time.

Introduction To open click here

Overview of chapters To open click here

While never formalised in any way Bob became a kind of mentor. I would look forward to meeting him here and there and each time deepening the conversation. Apart from the aforementioned US gathering, and others I may have forgotten, I met him in Barcelona, Beijing and, finally, in Salzburg. I treasure the photo I have of he and I standing together on the Great Wall of China in 1988. Not long afterwards I received a copy of his book Future Workshops with a hand-written dedication thanking me for inspiration! That was typical of his generosity. He was one of the founders of the World Futures Studies Federation and, as such, a figure that many people looked up to, not only in Austria and Germany but also in many other places.

The last chance I had to spend any time with him was during a 1990 forum held in Salzburg at the library he’d established there. Allen Tough, a Canadian colleague, was on hand to take the above shot of us having a brief conversation between presentations. I also recall having lunch with his family and meeting at the library late one evening to continue our discussions. It was a fitting end to an all-too-short but, for me at least, life-changing relationship. When I look back at how my own views of futures, and Futures Studies, developed, Bob Jungk is one of those key people who helped me to ‘clear away the fog’ and begin to understand what it was all about. I believe he influenced many people in this and similar ways. Years later, on a visit to Hiroshima, I was bemused to see a copy of his book Children of the Ashes on display in the museum there. In the interview he mentions how speaking with those caught up in the conflagration profoundly affected his own views and subsequent life work.

The interview (placed here in the new Interviews section) was first published in 1992 in the Australian Commission for the Future’s handsome 21C journal. He was very happy with the layout of the piece and I certainly agreed that the title ‘One Man Revolution’ was appropriate. This was also the year he ran as a Green Party candidate for the Presidency of Austria. He passed away two years later leaving a big gap in the lives of all who knew him.

Links

Wikipedia. Brief overview:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Jungk

Right Livelihood Award, 1986:

http://www.rightlivelihood.org/jungk.html

Images of RJ:

http://images.google.com/images?client=safari&rls=en&q=Robert+Jungk&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=_O9sS_fiKYGOkQX4lKHUBw&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CB0QsAQwAw

Summary of Obituary from December 1994 World Futures Studies Federation Bulletin, by Richard Slaughter:

http://www.globalideasbank.org/site/bank/idea.php?ideaId=145

Obituary from The Independent, by John Calder:

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-robert-jungk-1414618.html

J.G. Ballard

I spoke with Ballard in the comfortable lounge of a hotel in Manchester. The hotel was, in its way, another constructed reality scripted and choreographed like a film set, an illusion standing in stark contrast to the chaos of large-scale road works outside.  Such “nested environments” were, of course, second nature to Ballard, for whom, perhaps, the whole world resembled a fantastic stage. (This also explains why he owned original works by the Belgian surrealist painter Paul Delvaux.) He was certainly at ease in a role he knew well. Despite the self-revelation inherent in his work, he was, nevertheless, a private man, seldom seen in public. Yet his cordiality and unhurried manner, his direct gaze and ready conversation made for an easy rapport.

The interview took place at the Plaza Hotel, Manchester on 2nd October 1991. Edited and published in 21C, Issue 5, Autumn 1992, pp 78-81, Commission for the Future, Melbourne.

Posted in Interviews

In April 2009 I placed on this site a series of in-depth reviews I’d written of a number of works on climate change and global warming. The second paper provided here is the full text of the work that eventuated. It is called ‘Beyond the threshold: using climate change literature to support climate change response’ and was published in the Journal of Integral Theory and Practice, vol. 4, no. 4, 2009, pp. 26-46. The paper explores patterns in the literature and makes suggestions about how the integral lens can both clarify issues and support necessary actions. It concludes by discussing new kinds of motivation that will be needed to resolve the global crisis.

These papers are two samples from a rapidly growing literature. For those who would like a concise overview of Integral theory, the most useful and concise introduction I know of is by Sean Esbjörn-Hargens and it can be found here: http://integrallife.com/node/37539

Communicating about HIV/Aids

Beyond the Threshold (of climate change)

So what was I to do? Was it worth making yet another effort to help educators ‘wake up’ to the changed world that is rapidly approaching? As human impacts on the global system reach crisis levels and global warming is finally being recognised for what it is, were people likely to be more receptive? I thought it worth a try. The link below will take you to the paper I wrote. It is short, to the point and tries to make clear that we are, as a species, finally ‘out of time.’ We need to ‘wake up’ to the global crisis that we ourselves have created and deal with it honestly and openly. School systems are, of course, only one part of the social fabric, but I continue to believe that unless they play their part in equipping students for the now inevitable transitions before us, they are failing to fulfil their statutory obligations as well as their moral ones.

The paper is called ‘Beyond ‘the future of…’ Responding to the civilisational challenge,’ and it was published in the ACER Conference Papers, ACER, Melbourne, 2008, pp 14-18.

http://www.acer.edu.au/documents/RC2008_Slaughter-Richard.pdf

I have placed a brief tribute to J.G. Ballard in the General Futures section. In time I will add the full interview with him that I conducted in Manchester after the publication of The Kindness of Women (1991).

One of the distinctive features of the Australian Foresight Institute was the decision to include the integral perspective within the approach, teaching and the methodologies we employed. It was by no means the only focus but, over time, it has proved to be highly productive. The central theme of most feedback from students highlights the many ways in which they’ve benefited personally and professionally. The value of an integral futures perspective is clearly neither limited to those who’ve experienced it as part of their professional studies nor to the subsequent stream of publications. It’s now been recognised by a different source – the US-based Association of Professional Futurists (APF).

 During 2007 I worked with a group of colleagues and graduate students on this special issue (Futures Vol 40, No 2) on Integral Futures. It was published during March 2008. The issue has now received exceptional recognition by being selected by a committee of members of the APF as one of three “most important futures works of 2008.” It is, I believe, the first time that an issue of Futures has received recognition of this kind. In a message announcing the award Andy Hines wrote that:

“This special issue highlights the spread of ideas around Integral Philosophy popularised by Ken Wilber and introduced into foresight by Richard Slaughter during his tenure with the Australian Foresight Institute, which has carried on with this work. The special issue reflects how academics and practitioners are making increasing use of Integral ideas in a practical and applied manner.”

 Part of my written response follows.

 It’s a rare honour indeed for the special issue of Futures on Integral Futures to be awarded one of the APF’s Most Important Futures Works awards for 2008. As senior editor of that issue I want to thank the selection committee as well as each of the contributing authors: Peter Hayward, Josh Floyd, Chris Riedy, Chris Stewart, Mark Edwards and Joseph Voros.

 Since I first discovered it more than a decade ago, the integral perspective has developed into a multi-disciplinary enterprise involving many practitioners worldwide who are active in a range of fields. The conversation that is developing is one to which FS and Foresight work should and will contribute. While some continue to misconstrue the depth and range of the perspective as some sort of misguided ideology others know it is, as I’ve always maintained, merely one line of enquiry, one set of ‘filters’ among many. It is, however, one that offers rare gifts that include clarity, inclusion and communicative power.

During our first visit to Lord Howe Island I decided not to go on the Mount Gower Trek. I was not properly equipped, the weather was poor and, to be honest, I didn’t think I was up to it. So before returning four months later I bought a new pair of quality boots and also worked on my stamina by tackling the Mount Coot-tha path early mornings once or twice a week. When we returned to the island almost the first thing I did was to head up to Malabar, a steep 208 metre climb to the top of the northern cliffs where there are spectacular views of the ocean and the red tailed tropic birds that congregate there.

 The night before the trek was not my best. I couldn’t get to sleep for hours due to a mixture of excitement and anxiety that drove my mind around in circles. If ever there was an example of how what the Buddhists call the ‘uncontrolled mind’, this was it. I finally fell asleep around 3.30 am, only to wake again around 5.30 feeling listless and drained. Surely I could not take on the trek in this condition! But then I’d have to wait another week and also chance the weather. I had to go.

 Once I was up I felt better. A bus turned up on time at 7.00 am and took a small group of us to the end of the road beyond the airstrip. Here we disembarked, signed the waiver form and collected a red plastic hard hat each. We met our guide, Dean, who has a wealth of knowledge about the island and had led the walk many times before. We then set off along the 1 1/2 kilometre track to Little Island where the trek actually begins. At Little Island the track emerges from a low mixed forest to a small, crescent-shaped grassy area that looks out on a curved beach from which arises the sheer cliffs of Mount Lidgbird and, looming beyond it, the dark bulk of Mount Gower. To get to the start we had first to cross the rugged and rock-strewn beach. Before that, however, Dean informed us that the ascent from the beach to the rock ledge that we’d be taking was steep. We’d ‘feel our hearts pounding and we’d wonder why we ever set out on this’. He was right. The path led straight up from the beach – a near vertical scramble, but one made easier since ropes had been installed all the way up.

 One of the things that had kept me awake was a description I’d read of the path across the face of the cliff: “The track follows the basalt cliff until it connects with an open grassy ledge known as the Lower Road. Assisting ropes have been installed here. Even so, it is an unnerving experience to walk this narrow track with a sheer cliff rising on one flank and a precipitous fall of over 100 metres on the other.” (1) 

 This, it turned out, was what the hard hats were for, although I felt that they were unnecessary. But what also surprised me was that the path was by no means as ‘unnerving’ as had been described. Apart from a couple of tight places where the ropes certainly provided a welcome hand hold, I found this bit really quite easy and had no more sense of vertigo than I’d had standing a couple of days earlier on the edge of the Northern Cliffs at Malabar. We left our plastic hats hanging in a bush and then proceeded around the corner into Erskine Valley. Here an easy walk took us to Erskine Creek where we were able to re-fill our water bottles and take a welcome rest in the shade.

 From here the walk became more strenuous as we were now about to ascend the lower slopes of Mount Gower. A group of younger males went on ahead, followed by what I dubbed the ‘B group’. At a few points I wondered if I was going to make it and had to pause more than once to regain my breath. But what I found was that if I slowed to a certain pace I could continue. I found a kind of ‘baseline’ capacity that kept me going. After about 45 minutes we emerged at the Saddle where we had wonderful views of Mount Lidgbird and of the surrounding coast. At this point the vegetation was stunted and windswept and here we finally emerged into the mid-morning sunlight. The mountain rose nearly vertically ahead of us and looked rather intimidating at such close quarters. Someone said, sotto vocce, ‘we’re going up there?’

 From here the track alternated between rock scrambles and steep rock sections where, again, ropes had been provided. Since only one person could be ‘on rope’ at any time, this meant that the group had to pause at each of the larger rock sections. For me this was an obvious gift and I found it quite easy to ascend in this manner. Clearly my long-term and regular swimming had provided me with sufficient upper-body strength. The most difficult spot came near the top at a near vertical 20 metre rock face called the Get Up Place. But, again, there were plenty of footholds so it was easier than expected to make one’s way up this last obstacle.

Near the summit we stopped in a small clearing and Dean proceeded to ‘call up’ the Providence Petrels. As we’d ascended the mountain we could hear their calls getting louder all the time. Now we were surrounded by them as they skimmed the trees not far overhead. Dean emitted a loud wailing sound. Almost at once several birds crashed through the canopy around us and settled on the leaf littered ground. They’re known for being inquisitive and completely unafraid of humans. Dean even picked one up without it showing any sign of distress.

I quickly took the chance to photograph several that were sitting nearby. Looking at the photos later I was fascinated to see the colour variation in some of the feathers – from near black, to brown to grey and, around the characteristically hooked petrel beak, pure white. The way the birds took flight again was equally striking. They used their hooked beak, their clawed feet and their beating wings to ascend the nearest tree, catch the wind and soar off again into the bright sky.

 At the summit we finally found ourselves in the cloud forest – a densely tangled and unique environment. Here’s how Hutton describes this ‘dwarf mossy rainforest’. He writes: “Because of the frequent cloud cap, abundant moisture allows ferns and mosses to grow over the ground an on the tree trunks. This miniature forest of mosses and filmy ferns is perhaps the most unique of all the island’s unusual flora. Common trees are Hotbark, Island Apple, Pumpkin trees and many tree ferns. The numerous burrows are those of the Providence Petrel, which nests in the winter months. It is also common to see one of two pairs of Woodhen in the vicinity of the summit. These flightless rails nest in petrel burrows, or hollows formed by tree roots. The nests are lines with twigs, grasses and mosses – and are very hard to find.” (2) 

At the very top a barely-discernible path led across to a tiny clear space with views back across the whole island to the north. Here we had lunch and watched the petrels gliding and wheeling around us, their calls echoing near and far. I learned later that some 40,000 pairs nest here, and only here, on the high elevations of Lord Howe Island. The birds we saw were clearly happy to be ‘home’ and seemed to spend much of the day calling to each other, circling, courting. I’ll never forget the way the sun shone on the grey backs of these birds as they passed so close above us turning grey into a constellation of iridescent shades of refracted light.

 Also accompanying us throughout much of the climb were Lord Howe Currawongs. Now, at the summit, they came very close indeed, glaring down from nearby branches, seeming to question our right to encroach on their territory. A pair of Woodhens also appeared – one chasing the other – and disappeared as quickly. This truly is a magnificent place with its dense undergrowth, stunted trees, a few larger Mountain Palms and countless mosses, liverworts and epiphytes on almost every available surface. In season orchids and wild flowers also bloom here in profusion. Who knows how long this unique place will continue to exist for as global warming takes hold?

 All-too-soon it was time to leave. The last photos were taken and we embarked on the descent. While the 875 metre ascent required muscular strength and stamina, the descent was much more awkward, requiring far greater care. Most accidents occur on the way down and it was not hard to see why. The rope sections were again the easiest as one could lean back on the rope and sight the footholds below. But in the frequent tumbles of rock and vegetation it was sometime difficult to see just where to place one’s feet and a couple of people took minor falls as a result. Everyone’s legs certainly took a pounding and it was sometimes difficult not to slip on wet ground. We were lucky in that the day was bright, cool and dry. Descending in the wet would have been far harder and more dangerous.

 Back at Erskine Creek I had to take off my boots as the toes on my right foot had become bruised. (I later found that I needed arch support and could have gotten away with wearing one pair of socks instead of two.) Luckily I’d brought my runners along and a spare pair of socks. So I garnered a few envious glances as I washed my feet downstream from the resting place and put on new footwear. The lower descent was not so physically demanding but, since it was late afternoon and we were heading into the north west, we emerged from the slopes of Mount Lidgbird into the direct afternoon sunlight which bore down upon us rather too strongly. Soon we were back to the Lower Road which now seemed so non-threatening as to make the rope redundant. At the same time I was aware of being over-confident and so made use of the latter as necessary.

 At the other end Dean put us all to shame by showing us how islanders ascend the palms to collect seeds. (Lord Howe is known for being the source of the Kentia Palm and has a variety of other species as well, but unfortunately not a coconut-bearing variety.) Rock-hopping along the last section of shoreline was difficult with such tired legs and everyone was glad to be back on the level path back to where the bus was waiting. Here we returned our hard hats, exchanged stories about the day and also received handsome certificates for having made the trek. It had been about nine hours since we started out. The first port of call was Humpty Mick’s café and, on that day, the most welcome cold beer in the world.

 That night I slept for nearly 12 hours. Later, and surprisingly, I had no aches and pains or other after effects. Just the satisfaction that on this occasion I’d made it to the top, had had a profoundly satisfying experience and also brought back some lovely images of the petrels.

 28th March, 2009