Forget GDP, we need a bold new ‘why’ fit for the times we live in
Photo: Nathan Dumlao (Unsplash)
We’ve long been an advocates for the value and joy that comes with dreaming big; feeling that urge to balance fear with possibility, to inject hope, joy, play and vision into the serious world of strategic problem-solving and power analysis.
In 2017, we both delighted in Naomi Klein’s book No Is Not Enough — where Klein argues that it is time for a big, loud enthusiastic ‘YES!’ for the world we want. She writes about the need to expand our work beyond just what we’re fighting against — to include a loud and compelling collective vision that shows (and models) what we are fighting for.
It was around this time that a group of leaders from civil society in Australia were discussing the same thing: the need to come together across issue-based silos under a shared banner of what they were for, while at the same time sharing analysis of the systemic drivers holding them back. Recently hatched from her PhD, it was sheer luck that landed Millie in the room with these people as they collectively determined the need for a shared and articulated vision.
Of course, developing a truly shared vision for a country requires a great many perspectives, and so Millie was fortunate again: this time to join her colleague Ann Porcino on the road, listening to a wide range of Australians from across the country speak to the world they want, not just the world with which they were angry. It was like watching flowers unfurl as people – unpractised but energised – began articulating hope and vision.
These beautiful stories, ideals, hopes and dreams were collated and collected; and then, with the help of Lily, turned into the vision and nine pillars of Australia reMADE:
A First People’s heart
A natural world for now and the future
An economy for the people
A society where all contributions count and every job has dignity
A diversity of people living side by side
A country of flourishing communities
A new dawn for women
A thriving democracy
A proud contributor to a just world
It is a vision that is both utopian and common sense. Completely naïve and utterly realistic. Many people who read the full text contact us to tell us it’s moved them to tears and given them a sense of what might be possible, a sense of being less alone.
Suffice to say we’ve all become quite passionate about the power of a shared and articulated vision. Even more so, we’re passionate about practicing sharing and articulating vision: focusing on solutions and shared dreams rather than problems and shared nightmares (something most of us still find difficult, for a variety of reasons).
But we also know that vision alone is not enough. A utopia, a vision, a dream is like a kite, high up in the sky. It’s a piece of colour free in the elements and cheering to people far away. It can ignite a sense of possibility, freedom and joy. But what tethers it to earth – to people and their lived experiences; and to our collective sense of power and agency? If the vision is the kite, where is the string?
But vision alone is not enough. A utopia, a vision, a dream is like a kite, high up in the sky. It’s a piece of colour free in the elements and cheering to people far away. It can ignite a sense of possibility, freedom and joy. But what tethers it to earth – to people and their lived experiences; and to our collective sense of power and agency? If the vision is the kite, where is the string?
How do we link vision and values to the ambitious, transformative and collaborative change we need?
There is much thinking already, both inside Australia reMADE and in the wider world, on how we grab hold of utopia and pull it closer – connecting vision to practical action, power-literacy, people power and systems-change. Here, we want to highlight one further thread to the twist of our kite string: the idea of something as simple, and as complex, as the public good.
So what do we mean by the public good, and why is reclaiming and expanding on this idea so important for tugging a little firmer on the world we want?
Photo: Kilian Kremer (Unsplash)
As a term, ‘public good’ is neither here nor there. But its non-threatening status is also what allows it to sneak past people’s defences and open up new territory of shared agreement and ambition. It’s boringly reassuring, but potentially transformative.
There are many definitions for public good, common good and public interest; often these come from the field of economics and have specific technical meanings. Here, we’re pushing for a bigger definition. We’re saying it’s simply making sure that the things we, society, decide are important are available and accessible where and when they are needed, regardless of whether they make somebody a profit.
And we provide some scaffolding for this definition to hold open a space for a big, robust, conversation about the public good. There are three categories worth considering for helping to get a better grip on what this kind of expanded idea of public good might actually include.
First, there are the ‘things’ – the physical and material things and services of the public good such as schools and education, hospitals and healthcare, roads, sewerage systems, the public service.
Second there are the ‘connections’ – the existence of community itself and the capacities for contribution to community that help us to belong and feel part of the greater whole. Examples here include faith, culture, time, family, community space and places.
And thirdly there are the ‘frameworks’ — the scaffolding and contextual rules that provide for the public good via systems of governance, law, protections and rights. Examples here include financial regulations, safe climate, democracy, privacy and human rights.
Let’s just pause here for a moment and acknowledge how radical it would be, after four decades of neoliberalism especially, to reframe our shared ideas like privacy, or time, or faith, or community as not just a private good – something that may or may not be of benefit to individuals – but as a public good: something that we believe should be available to everyone.
Photo: Jacob Dyer (Unsplash)
Prompted by the global pandemic, people in Australia and elsewhere are questioning the public good – what it is, who is responsible for it, and how it might guide (and does guide) our response to crisis. In her excellent article How not to be an idiot: Hannah Arendt on public life in COVID-19 times, Anna Rowlands writes: “[A]rguably, to accept lockdown and social distancing is to allow our commitment to the public good to shape our private living, for it to enter into our households, domestic and work arrangements in ways unprecedented in our lifetimes.” Arendt’s work points to the common realm of the world that we share and the world that we create. Our job then is to ensure that the world we create provides for everyone — all public.
And furthermore, how radical would it be if in the long wake of covid, unrelenting climate pressures, systemic inequalities and more – our governments, business and civil society leaders broadly agreed that in their own way, their shared overarching goal was to protect and advance the public good? Not at the expense of personal liberties, rights or wellbeing; but in service of them. None of us can achieve a safe climate on our own any more than we can individually achieve our right to privacy in this digital age. Our individual health, education, wellbeing, freedom to pursue our dreams or spare time to care for others all depends on the ‘things’, connections and frameworks of the public good that no amount of rugged individualism or free market competition can deliver alone.
So let’s imagine, for a moment, if this muscular, positive, expansive notion of public good became our key organising principle and primary measure of success. Imagine if it became our collective new ‘why’ – a more complete and people-and-planet centred sense of purpose than simply producing and consuming more, employing more people, or even championing a particular cause in isolation.
Advancing the public good could help us collectively connect to each other, connect our issues and organise our priorities, evaluate ideas and frame debates, without siloing us into narrow issue boxes or opposing camps of left vs right.
We think this common ground and common framing would help us become a bit less timid, a bit less fractured and a bit bolder in questioning our leaders’ decisions and priorities. Does this budget improve the public good, or does it just deny services to people who need them and deliver tax cuts to people who don’t? Does this policy, business model or democratic regulation serve our public good, or does it give more power and money to those who already have them?
No doubt there would be those who would try to make ‘public good’ so broad it could justify any policy, wish list or ideology under the sun (for a comparable example, the Business Council of Australia is currently running with the language of the ‘common good’ yet still prioritises the wealthy individualist and extractivist neoliberal values that drive inequality and climate damage). The truth is public good may be an expansive idea, but it should still have boundaries, and it’s up to us to debate, define and evolve them. We need to take up space with ideas of the public good that have integrity, and are grounded in the values we share: unity with nature, equal worth of all people, interdependence and community.
In short: the public, in public good, must include everyone. The public is not just a powerful minority, nor is it the powerful majority. For true public good, we need a universalist approach, one in which everyone means everyone and no one is considered capitalist cannon fodder.
Balancing rights and responsibilities, the ‘me’ and the ‘we’, minority experiences with majority rule, is an ongoing project. Public good is not a static concept. The second public good category we propose, that of connections, is both in and of itself a public good and an essential infrastructure for maintaining and advancing the public good. Culture, community, time, family and creativity are all examples of public goods that provide us with the capacity to shape, influence, debate and negotiate the physical things, the services of public good and ensure the robustness of frameworks for public good.
For the third category, the ‘frameworks’ of public good, this is where we need good umpires and what J.K. Galbraith calls ‘countervailing power’: things like unions and civil society organisations to balance out the power of big business. It’s about maintaining a system able to bend and adapt, all the while centring a universalist public good purpose.
A shared narrative
Photo: Victor Charlie (Unsplash)
Throughout 2020, so many organisations across civil society were searching for a shared narrative that would help us re-centre the needs of people and planet in any covid recovery plan. There were calls for three-point plans, proposals for policy lists, hours of online collaboration that were wonderful and productive – but which ultimately failed to provide a framework or central rallying cry to unite behind. (‘Build Back Better’ had more success in the United States, thanks primarily to President Biden taking it up.)
What we were really struggling to articulate was a new type of ‘ism’ – a cohesive and cogent new paradigm capable of uniting and guiding us forward. Now, we don’t claim to be able to pluck a new ism out of a hat, but we do think the public good offers some potential.
Agreeing we should put the public good first doesn’t require individuals or organisations to publicly sign up to manifestos, display a logo or to agree to a ten-point policy plan.
We can be part of this by simply talking about the public good a lot more, and connecting the dots between what we want and why we do what we do.
We can, each of us, start to ask the people we serve and those in our circles of influence what kinds of public goods they think are important and necessary for everyone to have access to, regardless of whether they make someone a profit, and see what comes out.
We can also connect the work we are already doing to the public good: action on climate change is a public good, good working conditions are a public good, public health is a public good, a fair legal system is a public good, our sewerage systems are a public good. Environmentalist, unionist, barista, doctor, plumber, IT support, parent, unpaid carer – one could argue a huge variety of careers and roles contribute to the public good in some way (and if you believe your job doesn’t, you’re more likely to be unhappy). Just articulating why we do what we do (not to serve the economy, or buy more stuff, but contribute to society) reframes the debate. We can each pick up our particular public good threads and weave them with others. We can connect our different areas of work, better connect with one other, and pull utopia closer as we tie ourselves to the future (and present) that we truly want.
Australia reMADE has already started building these conversations and creating momentum for a new public good agenda. We’ve got a plan, we’ve got ways for you to participate in it, and we’ve got ideas and frameworks for you to use. You can learn more about our conversations doing just this, what we’re finding, and the project Australia reMADE is leading on, in the links below.
Because we need a bold new why for these times: one that is unifying rather than polarising, and which puts people and planet at the centre.
Recommended further reading and resources:
Introducing the public good (our initial thinking on the public good published in early 2020)
Listening for the public good (a series of blog posts from the 2020 Pilot Public Good project)
LILIAN SPENCER
Lilian Spencer is the Communications Lead for Australia reMADE. She believes that the secret to change is to, ‘focus your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new.’
OTHER BLOGS BY LILY: What are budgets for?
LESSONS FROM THE PANDEMIC, PHASE ONE
BROKEN OPEN IN THE YEAR OF GREAT DISRUPTIONS
FOR THE LOVE OF ACTION: PEOPLE STEPPING UP ON CLIMATE CHANGE
DR MILLIE ROONEY
Millie is the National Coordinator for Australia reMADE. Millie has a qualitative research background and has spoken in-depth with hundreds of Australian's about their lives, communities and dreams. She has worked in and around universities for over a decade building student capacity and enthusiasm for tackling wicked problems. Millie is also a carer for her family and community and is passionate about acknowledging this work as a valid, valuable and legitimate use of her time.
