Best Barbershop in Toronto

The Baby Point Barbershop is an experience I relish.  

The aesthetics of the shop are classic with a clean retro feel.  Five old-school red leather chairs beckon you and the curated memorabilia — tucked away on furniture picked up at a second-hand store — create an atmosphere of supreme comfort. Simultaneously quirky and familiar, spacious and intimate, the space is welcoming and warm.

Classic chairs

Sitting back in your chair with a bib gently placed around your neck, you’ll notice the music.  Carefully selected playlists — with a firm nod to classic rock, R&B and soul — add a relaxing, but upbeat feel to the experience.  

Throughout the experience, there’s banter between patrons and the barber.  Participation in the conversation is voluntary, but it’s almost impossible to avoid chatting. The talk ranges from politics and society to family and schools. 

It’s all quite classy and congenial without the pretence of a hipster hair salon.

Since the shop opened a couple of years ago, I’ve had my hair cut by the owner Alex, a thoughtful service professional who’s a natural conversationalist.  He smiles sincerely and laughs heartily. 

Not even 30, Alex is a Torontonian of Italian heritage with a deep appreciation for the city’s diversity and culture.  Having grown up in the Etobicoke area (adjacent to Baby Point), including schooling in Rexdale, he’s a young man with an open mind and an entrepreneurial spirit. 

Alex and team listen, ask questions and diplomatically share their perspectives and opinions. They’re young and curious, open-minded and worldly.  His crew are equally adept at interpreting the extent to which customers would like them to engage. 

Vince doing his thing

Nothing is forced or awkward.  Everything is about respectful, efficient service.  

Where the warm towels are kept…

The team consists of four regular barbers, each with their own personal style.  During may various visits I’ve been fortunate to meet a couple of them.  Whenever I’m having my hair cut, Vince is there.  He naturally slides into the conversation with unique insights.  A man of many abilities and wonderful quirky at times, he’s an artisan — knife maker — who sports a gold trimmer as his main tool. Apart from being an experienced barber, he’s a teacher; which is evident as he’s very good with kids. 

Make an appointment and swing by.  You’ll walk out smiling and happier (with less hair).

Location: the corner of Windermere and Annette St.

Within Five

After a long hiatus from blogging, I’ve launched a new series called Within Five (#within5). It will feature unique places of interest within 5 km of my home. The focus on local businesses has grown out a desire to get to know my area better, and to meet some of the individuals who have struggled to make it through the pandemic. Those who have smiled and gritted their teeth (behind masks, of course) as they have faced numerous challenges to keep financially afloat during these turbulent times.  

The pandemic forced many of us to stay home.  Among the few benefits of this imposed domesticity has been a deeper appreciation of what makes my ‘hood special  With no need to go to an office, and not content to simply order in, I have explored nearby places within walking distance or a short cycle.  

To ‘feel’ the area and discern its ‘pulse’ I have tried - as much as possible - to do so on foot or with a two-wheeled vehicle. The nuances of a neighbourhood’s graffiti and the uniqueness of makeshift ads on its lampposts cannot be appreciated from the confines of a car. By embracing the elements and strolling or riding around, the energy, smells and sights of a neighbourhood are best appreciated.

Local-philia in Toronto 

Recently, Toronto Life had a special issue on The City’s 100 Best Food Shops. (Thankfully, quite a few are in my vicinity. ) As much as it’s a decent ranking of some of Toronto’s gastronomic hotspots, I’m more interested in the totality of a neighbourhood. Hair salons, public art, breweries and specialist retailers; they all form the contextual fabric of an area. (Incidentally, the same magazine ranks neighbourhoods in the city, providing an overview of each area according to the criteria of housing, safety, transit, shopping, health, entertainment, community, diversity, education, and employment.)

Neighbourhoods

By Archie’s Press

When I moved back to Canada in 2018, a friend of mine described Toronto as a “city of neighbourhoods.” While I can’t speak to the suburbs or downtown, in terms of where I live — High Park / The Junction / Bloor West Village / Roncesvalles — it’s true.  Each neighbourhood has its own character and combination of experiences that give it a unique ethos.

As a pedestrian and cyclist, businesses that have stood out for me are those offering a blend of exceptional service with a unique offering.  I have also come to appreciate the many parks and ravines that Toronto has to offer. Over the next few weeks and months, I’ll showcase some of my favourite places.  

Tell me what you think.  What makes your neighbourhood special? I’m keen to know. 

A Score of Thanks

Gratitude after a difficult 2020

The term “score” — meaning twenty — is rarely used these days. As a noun with multiple meanings, a score can refer to everything from the total number of points earned in a game, to drugs bought from a dealer, to a musical composition to a sexual conquest.  For this article, however, the only score I wish to reference are the 20 things for which I am grateful this year.  It has been a difficult 2020, but through it all, these people, places, and things have kept me going.  For each of them I am exceptionally thankful. In no particular order, they include:

1) My wife Chantelle

My wife has been a pillar of strength throughout the year.  For most of it, she has worked at home in an office we’ve set up on the top floor of our humble home.  Her hours of toiling through Teams calls and taking on numerous challenges at work have been inspirational. She has kept us financially afloat and has balanced so many responsibilities with a sense of humour and poise that amaze me.  Without a doubt, she remains a shoe-in for ‘Wife of the Year’!

2) Benjamin, my son

My son started at a new school in September; his fourth in the past four years. He has had to adapt to much change during this time, but through it all he has remained full of enthusiasm, great questions, and unending curiosity.  His resilience, desire to learn, and endless playfulness instil immeasurable pride in me and remind me that the most important job in life is to be a loving parent.  

3) My Dad

At the end of September, we lost my father rather suddenly.  He was out for a ride and somehow ended up falling headfirst into the asphalt.  No foul play was suspected and despite wearing a helmet, it did not protect him from falling into a coma from which he did not return.  My father’s accident took us by surprise as very suddenly he was taken from us.  A man full of life and vigour, he was fit and a physically active 88-year-old. He will remain an exemplar of the importance of regular exercise, embracing the beauty of nature, and living life to the fullest. 

4) Neighbours

Having moved into a home we bought at the end of December 2019, we had to once again settle into a neighbourhood. We have been so fortunate to have the wonderful Derry family in the adjacent semi-detached house.  Their youngest, Gabriel, and my son have become best friends and having each other to play with during the pandemic has been one of the most special blessings, and a beautiful thing to observe. They have become brothers to one another, and I have enjoyed the periodic end-of-day beers with David, his father.

5) Canada

“Peace, order and good government” are the central tenants of this country’s constitution.  This was plainly evident during the pandemic, and I salute the men and women who have been trying to deal with a difficult situation, in particular our government. Under Prime Minister Trudeau, the government has responded admirably to the pandemic and reassured Canadians that they can depend on the government to see them through this crisis.  For one, I am grateful for the safety net provided by unemployment insurance and the Canada Recovery Benefit (thanks to legislation that passed with the support of all political parties). 

6) Proximity to Family
One of the reasons we moved from South Africa to Canada was to be closer to family. With my brother in Toronto and my mother in Ottawa, we have been lucky to enjoy lots of great meals together and quality time having out in both cities. I am so happy that I was able to be there for my mum when she most needed it and how we all came together to celebrate my father at his memorial in early November. It has been especially touching to observe the blossoming relationship between my wife and sister-in-law since they have been in the same city together.

7) Local Parks

We live close to High Park, one of Toronto’s great parks. Extending over 161 ha (400 acres), it is the city’s second largest municipal park and features wonderful paths for hiking and running, areas for dogs to run off-leash, playgrounds for children, ponds for fishing, and even a small zoo. The park was donated to the city in 1873 “for the free use, benefit and enjoyment of the citizens of Toronto for ever” and it remains the best place to witness cherry blossoms in the spring (access to which was limited during the COVID-19 pandemic). As often as possible I enjoy the park as an urban oasis to breathe in fresh air and commune with nature.

8) Optimum Talent 

Having completed a one-year contract with the Mastercard Foundation at the end of March, my employer kindly provided access to the services of Optimum Talent, a talent management firm, to help transition to my next role. Apart from one-on-one consultations with a career counsellor, Lindsey Estenfelder, I was offered the opportunity to participate in a weekly networking group, headed by Debra Adey. These virtual meetings with others seeking employment provided tremendous support, learning, and connection when I felt quite isolated. 

9) The Lewis Family

Jeff and Lauren lived on our street up until the middle of 2020, when they bought a house and moved to Hamilton.  As a couple — and as journalists — they had lived and worked in Alberta prior to moving to Toronto.  Their eldest Bennett, my son Ben, and our neighbour’s boy Gabriel were as thick as thieves and regularly ‘terrorized’ the neighbourhood as a three-person gang on scooters.  Jeff and Lauren have become friends and we’ve gotten together with them a few times since they relocated, including a couple of wonderful times at their cottage.

10) Nic and Ann

Nic is an old friend and he and his wife Ann were instrumental in helping us settle in Toronto at the end of 2018.  Their boy Theo, who is a few years younger than Ben, is an absolute delight.  One-on-one time with Nic, cycling, and exploring some of the city’s ravines have been some highlights for me. 

11) My Son’s Teachers

Ms K at King George Primary School and Mrs Tavares at St. Cecelia’s have been absolute stars in educating Ben and helping him feel settled.  Consummate professionals and with warm, caring hearts, they have been vital to his adaptation to a new country and culture.  Amid all the disruption and uncertainty of the pandemic, both of these women have been rock solid and reliable in their determination to make the school year work, with or without long-distance learning.

12) LinkedIn

An online social platform that is so much more than a job-hunting tool, I have become an avid user of LinkedIn.  Apart from being a valuable outlet to provide my views on different work-related matters, I’ve also been able to learn from my connections and the various courses provided through LinkedIn learning.  I look forward to seeing how the platform evolves in the coming years as a more integrated aspect of the Microsoft empire.

13) St. Paul’s Church

On November 7th we produced a memorial to my father — Dr. Sholto Fletcher Cole —who passed away rather suddenly about a month away from his 89th birthday.  While it had a small in-person service at the church, the service was ostensibly put together to cater to an online audience (thanks to COVID-19 restrictions).  Led by Minister Wilson and technically produced by Ed Smith from St Paul’s, we pulled it off without a major hitch. The service included kind words from Minister Jack Archibald (the recently retired from St. Paul’s), playing of the organ by Matthew Larkin and eulogies by my brother Doug (in Ottawa) and from Jack Richardson, a longtime friend of my father’s who is based in Boston. Beyond the ceremony, the broader congregation at the church — where my parents have been active members — were unbelievably supportive, especially my mum and dad’s bible study group of multiple decades.

14) Creekside Community

My parents have been in Creekside, a small neighbourhood near Bayshore Shopping Centre for over two decades.  It is a special place with a caring group of neighbours and friends.  When my father passed, I was touched by the kindness and care that was offered and how many of individuals from the neighbourhood popped in to pay their condolences.  It is heartening to know that my mother is part of this community and that it will provide her with companionship during times when she may feel alone. 

15) Podcasters

I have been a big fan of podcasts and over the past year I have come to appreciate the format even more.  The shows I listen to regularly include Radiolab, Tim Ferriss, TED Radio Hour, Stuff You Should Know, Freakonomics, and Hidden Brain.  This year I also ‘discovered’ Zig Zag, part of the TED network of shows.  In one way or another, each of these podcasts provided comfort, support, and insight to help get through a difficult year.

16) Wildlife

We are lucky to live in a neighbourhood with a fair number of mature trees, including a few standing tall over our backyard. These ‘grandfathers of nature’ provide a home and refuge for many animals including red-tailed hawks, blue jays, cardinals, sparrows, chickadees, and various other birds.  We’ve even spotted coyote, red fox and an opossum (North America’s only marsupial). Racoons and squirrels are also plentiful in our area, providing regular entertainment with their antics and bravado. Apart from observing their beautiful busyness, these animals served as reminders of the importance of nature and our dependency upon all that it provides our species. 

17) Weekends away

During the course of 2020 we had the opportunity to explore quite a few towns near Toronto. There is so much to see in the vastness of Canada, and the province of Ontario provides a small taste of the country’s extensive cultural and geographic diversity. Some highlights from day trips and weekends away to locales as Cambridge, Elora, Prince Edward County, Tobermory/Bruce Peninsula, Manitoulin Island, 1000 Islands and Ottawa, include fantastic hiking, dining, and shopping at various farm stalls and ‘high streets’ in these towns.

18) ‘Old Skool’ Zooms

In the middle of the pandemic, I reconnected with several mates from my high school days thanks to the ubiquitous technological wonder called Zoom.  These sessions provided the chance to laugh, rib one another, contemplate the realities of middle-age, and consider some of the challenges facing the world.  Several of us grew impressive beards and the staggered removal of such facial growth — during the course of one Zoom call — provided tremendous amusement.  Thank you Dean, Kevin, Mike and André for taking the time to connect.

19) Local Businesses

As much as possible, we’ve tried to support our local corner store, Garden Foods, a small shop run by a wonderful Korean-Canadian family.  When he was allowed to open, I also visited my local barber, Alex, owner of The Baby Point Barbershop.  Both of these businesses, and especially the latter, offer a level of personal service and friendliness that are unmatched by blue vest wearing greeters typically found at big box stores. I appreciate the entrepreneurship and tenacity of these individuals to survive a year that has been brutal on small businesses. 

20) Health 

I cannot look back on 2020 without appreciating the fact that I am in decent health.  Without a gym to go to for most of the year, I have tried to maintain some semblance of fitness by going on occasional runs by myself and regular walks with my family. I am thankful that I have remained healthy as so many individuals, families, and businesses have been affected by COVID-19. My uncle Graham in South Africa had a particularly difficult time during the pandemic and I am so happy that he was able to pull through following two heart operations that had to be done following complications resulting from contracting the virus.

Pining for Public Art and Pandemic-Busting Inspiration

Urban life has taken a major knock thanks to COVID-19.  The city I live in — Toronto — is once again under a lockdown which means we must stay home, except for essential trips and emergencies. Cloistered away, our lives have become quite ordinary.  Too ordinary.   

I miss the discoveries and endless inspiration offered by walking in the city with its various avenues, parks, and buildings. Places to escape to and encounter the out-of-the-ordinary. Creations that challenge and prod one’s worldview, allowing ideas to percolate and conversations to unfold. Things of beauty that are considered adventurous, avant-garde, and even risqué.

This is the role of art.

Sadly, the pandemic has killed the arts sector, starved restaurants of business, and generally gutted urban life.  Public events have been cancelled. Shows shut down.  Museums closed. Other than what one can view on TV and streaming video services, the inspiration offered by art has been dramatically quashed.

If one ventures out, the city seems unreal. Un-alive. Ghost-like individuals, masked and anonymous, walk by, avoiding eye contact.  The spectrum of humanity ordinarily found in the urban environment — from buskers to lineups outside theatres — no longer exists.  It is as if we are living in T.S. Eliot’s Waste Land. 

It begs the question: how can we resuscitate this urban wasteland? 

Build it and they will come

The baseball movie Field of Dreams — starring Kevin Costner — is famous for the line “build it and they will come.” For decades, property developers have faithfully lived by this mantra. In city centres they have constructed high-rises to house residents, contain office workers, and entice shoppers.  Labyrinths of concrete and steel connect these structures through subways and subterranean walkways.

But with COVID-19 everything has changed.

Condo prices have plummeted, public transport has been abandoned, and the perceived need for offices is in decline.  While many elements of cities built by developers are being questioned, if we are to maintain the social fabric of urban life, there is one area where I hope developers — and others — continue to contribute: Public Art. 

During 2021, the City of Toronto will celebrate the Year of Public Art.  Having focused on Public Art since the middle of the 19th Century, the City now manages and maintains almost 300 pieces of outdoor art.  Much of the funding for these highly accessible works comes from developers commissioning public art as part of a development approval, donating land and commissioned art to the city, or donating cash to the city for art that is commissioned on pubic lands. Whatever the mechanism, the result has been impressive with private developers having contributed some 300 projects in Toronto over the past 30 years.

The most recent addition to Toronto’s Public Art scene is DREAMING, a massive sculpture on the public plaza at the Richmond-Adelaide Centre, a $650 million revitalization project by Oxford Properties in Toronto’s Financial District. The three-storey tall art piece, created by Spanish artist Jaume Plensa, is the portrait of a young girl in quiet contemplation, juxtaposed against the busyness of the adjacent streets. 

More outlandish, please

The movie Field of Dreams was essentially about passion and doing something outlandish: building a baseball diamond in the middle of an Iowa corn field.  An Old English word meaning ‘not native’ or ‘from a foreign country' outlandish describes things that appear out of place or out of the ordinary. 

I say, bring on the outlandish!

On any given day, there are over 100 languages spoken in Toronto.  The city is a cultural mishmash, a mixing pot of cuisines, entrepreneurial minds, and creative energies from around the world. DREAMING is the latest addition to an array of artworks scattered throughout the city created by Canadians of various backgrounds, as well as non-resident artists.

Some of my favourite public art in Toronto (shown to me by a Kiwi friend who used to be based in the city), are:

“Tembo, Mother of Elephants” by Derrick S. Hudson in Toronto Commerce Court

“Businessman” by McElcheran in Brookfield Place (181 Bay St.)

TD Gallery of Indigenous Art (79 Wellington St. W.) is a rotating exhibition space representing regions across Canada. Check out the self-guided tour.

Two Circles by Canadian artist and curator Micah Lexier (333 Bay St.)

Viewed from afar, each circle appears as a perfect geometric shape on a smooth, white wall, but as one gets closer, the work reveals an intricate mosaic composed of 1.6 million handmade ceramic sticks.

Public art allows for the expression of various cultural voices, increases understanding of different peoples, helps our appreciation of history, and adds value to different parts of the city. By escaping our houses and taking the time to observe and appreciate such installations, we can each find inspiration, and if we’re lucky, maybe experience awe. At the least, public art is an effective means of cultural education, and if we pay attention, it can even connect us to others. As Seth Godin writes in his most recent book The Practice: 

“Culture is a conspiracy. It’s the voluntary engagement of humans in search of connection and safety.”

Christmas in the City

The Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in New York City is an iconic, smile-inducing sight and an example of public art that speaks to Godin’s description of culture.  Once illuminated, the buzz of the city is enhanced, drawing thousands of locals and visitors to Midtown Manhattan. Describing itself as “…a gathering place and reflection of what is happening in the world” this centrepiece of the Season is an unforgettable experience, especially with the skating rink at the base of the tree. (Factoid: In 1966, Canada donated a tree from Ottawa to be a Rockefeller Centre Christmas Tree when Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson, co-founder of the UN, was in power.)

Photo by Daniel Slim (Getty Images)

Struggling as we are through the pandemic, we all need more joy-inducing experiences.  Places that excite us and connect us. Artistry that dazzles and brings smiles to faces — young and old — and that even challenge perspectives on the world. Such creations enhance our sense of community, enrich city life, and drive tourism (whenever that is going to come back). 

Toronto’s Christmas tree — located on Nathan Phillips Square at City Hall — was lit up by Mayor John Tory a few days ago. Today, the Federal Government will mark the beginning of the Christmas Lights Across Canada on Parliament Hill in Ottawa.  I will certainly be heading out with my family to admire the lights, but for those more inclined to at-home viewing, the Government of Canada launches its virtual show IllumiNATION on December 17 at 8 pm ET. 

According to Prime Minister Trudeau: 

“This beautiful display also reminds us that there is light at the end of the tunnel, that we will get through this global COVID-19 pandemic, and that we must continue to stand together. Our values of unity and of being there for one another, and our confidence in the future, will allow us to continue working to build an even better Canada.”

Addressing a mental health emergency

We are living through strange times where buildings sit empty and households self-isolate. Such isolation has created a mental health emergency. According to Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), because of COVID-19:

• Nearly 1/2 of women (24.3 per cent) are experiencing moderate to severe anxiety, significantly higher than the 17.9 per cent found among men.

• Parents with children under 18 years of age living at the home were more likely to report feeling depressed (29.1 per cent) than adults without children (18.9 per cent).

Apart from the disproportional impact of the pandemic on women and parents, the arts community has been devastated.  Organizations like the Canada Council for the Arts  are doing what they can to help artists, but more needs to be done. One piece of encouraging news from Ravi Jain, founding artistic director of Why Not Theatre, came recently when he spoke at The Walrus Talks at Home: Living Better online event this month. In his short talk, he touched on an innovative pilot project undertaken through cross-sector partnerships that offered artists empty spaces to enliven and use for artistic purposes.  Some encouraging results came from the almost 2,500 hours of free space provided to more than 50 artists who participated in Project Space.

According to Jain: 

”Artists are among the working poor in Toronto. Every year more and more artists are being driven out of the city by the rising cost of living. Yet their contribution to our city is vital. Artists reignite neighbourhoods, boost economic growth, and make Toronto a more communal and livable place.

COVID has increased the economic precariousness of most artists, but it can also cause us to rethink how artists might play a role in recovering from the pandemic.  We must continue to invest in those who can ignite communities, activate spaces, and unlock the potential of cities and the people who live in them.  There is an economic and mental health imperative to do so.

To maintain our collective sanity we all need more fresh air, sunlight and art.  This winter, I encourage all Canadians — as distinct family ‘bubbles’, of course — to put on their masks, bundle up, and head out to soak in the sights (at a respectful distance from one another).  It’s also a chance to get some Vitamin D, although I’m not sure how one does so at night when Christmas lights are at their best…

Hope Amid Trying Times

Imagine the movie trailer:

In a galaxy far, far away…nefarious forces, under orders from a mysterious leader, hold the country hostage in their efforts to quell the election of a new President.  Rebel forces, led by a sage master and his protégé — a warrior from a distant land — collaborate to repel an invisible enemy, rescue fallen comrades, and restore freedom and justice to the country. 

America has been cleaved in two, psychologically and politically.  Over the past few months, two versions of reality have duked it out on the country’s political stages.  After a brutal election campaign, votes have been cast amid trying circumstances to decide upon a new leader of the world’s most influential economy. 

It would appear a clear winner has emerged from the 2020 election, and that hope and humility have defeated paranoia and pessimism.  Walled up in the White House, however, the current President remains in power, firing menacing mini-missives into the Twitter-verse.

Is there a new hope unfolding?…

A walled-off White House (November 2020)

Hope is not Optimism

The Stockdale paradox presents hope as distinctly different from optimism.  Based on his experience as a Vietnam POW who spent more than seven years in captivity, Stockdale provides a useful perspective on how to survive prolonged suffering.  In essence, he argues that one should not allow the possibility of a positive event emerging as a means to maintain one’s psyche. Every day is a battle to fight with confidence, despite one’s circumstance.  As Stockdale says: 

“You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.”

The confronting of the present reality is the most important thing to focus on.  The belief that one will prevail in the end is a kind of faith rooted in hope.  Not optimism.  It is a realistic take on the necessary mindset, value system, and sense of identity one requires to be resilient.  To be realistically hopeful. 

As the former president of the Czech Republic Václav Havel — a fervent anti-Communist —once said: 

Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.

Hope: the emotional cornerstone of society

For a country that has defied the odds and taken on challenges few can tackle, America is in dire need of more hope.  Almost 240,000 Americans have died from COVID-19 in less than a year.  More than 12 million people are unemployed in the country. At least 30 million of its citizens lack medical insurance. Beyond this, the global economy remains precarious as other nations try to cope with the fallout from the coronavirus pandemic. 

Discouraged from offering or receiving hugs, we all hope for a vaccine. We are not optimistic, but we are at least hopeful. 

+10 million COVID-19 cases in the United States (as of Nov. 8, 2020)

Hope: what we cling to in tough times.

Hope is foundational to why we follow leaders. It is the antidote to despair and it vanquishes fear, a common psychological tool used by authoritarian leaders. As one candidate* stated in the first debate of the US Election:  

“I will embrace hope, not fear.  Peace, not violence.  Generosity, not greed. 
Light, not darkness. I’ll be a President who appeals to the best in us.
Not the worst. I’ll be a President who pushes toward the future.
Not the one who clings to the past.”

*Guess which Presidential candidate…

Isn’t this what America wants and America needs?  What the world hopes for?

Hope: what friends have for each other

It remains to be seen which version of reality — and what kind of leadership — the majority of Americans wish to follow. They seem to have indicated their preference from the election results, but for those of us looking from outside the country (especially here in Canada), there is a profound hope that truth and sensibility will prevail.

Over the past four years, America had become estranged from longtime friends and allies. Considerable social capital has been lost and many nations have felt abandoned by a partner upon which they had depended. Candid conversations have been replaced by dismissive tweets.  Honourable behaviour, longstanding agreements, and traditional conventions have been abandoned. Trust had been broken and hope diminished.

A beacon of democracy and a force for global change, America has lost considerable respect as a result of its (mis)handling of the COVID-19 crisis.  The kind of leadership expected of such a superpower, including norms of decorum in global diplomacy, have been hard to decipher from the actions and rhetoric emanating from Washington.  The ‘America-first’ policy has turned a once proud collaborator on the global stage into a pariah nation.

Fortunately, a new hope has emerged. In the first speech given by (what would appear to be) the President-elect of the US, it was stated: 

“We will lead not only by the example of our power,
but by the power of our example.”

And so we wait…in hope.

Autumnal Lessons on Life, Loss and Hope

Autumn is my favourite season.  It offers a beautiful example of how nature transforms, and life can ‘shift gears’. During a year Queen Elizabeth may again describe as annus horribilis, fall has also become a season of mixed feelings as my father — who would have turned 89 on October 20th — recently passed away rather suddenly. 

Happiness and awe have become mixed with sadness and solemnity. As I lament the end of my dad’s life, his passing has provided some beautiful lessons about life, loss, and hope. 

Shine brightly

Toronto in September and October sees summer’s greenery give way to brilliant oranges, reds, and yellows. But as much as it is possible to enjoy an exhilarating stroll — inhaling crisp air, and lingering in the soft sunlight of the season — one knows that cold winds and barren trees are just around the corner. 

It is only a matter of time.

Out for a Christmas Day ride (2018)

And so it was with my father.  A vigorous, healthy man, he rode his bicycle just about any chance he had right up until the moment he died.  He loved his rides early in the morning from his home in Ottawa through the nearby forests and fields.  He would observe the plants and animals, and indulge his senses in all nature had to offer.   

Throughout his life, my father lived with great gusto.  From his love of food to his enthusiasm for birdwatching and travel, he embraced the world around him.  Music was one of his passions and he pursued it up until his final days.  An active member of the Ottawa Choral Society for decades, he sang and traveled with the choir, enjoying trips to exotic locales and receiving much praise for their performances. He loved choral music and especially playing the organ, a talent he developed as a boy attending an exceptional school in Cape Town, South Africa.  

Regularly seen with a camera in his hand, my dad was also an avid photographer. Slide shows were part of my childhood and I remember them fondly, the projector hypnotically clicking from one image to the next. Many of his pictures were moments in which he had captured the beauty of a bird or the foliage of the fall. Nature was his muse, his place of worship. 

But my father’s time came, like they do for the leaves of the trees. Right up until the end, he shone brightly.

Share and grow 

A highlight of the fall is the kaleidoscopic carpet of leaves it presents. A blanket of beauty upon the forest floor, only visible for a short time.  But leaves, in all their splendour, are not simply garments for the trees. They sustain nature’s mysterious web of life.

Attending our wedding in South Africa (2012)

And so it was with my father.  Siring two boys and a daughter, he raised a family across two continents.  He provided for us and cared for us, ensuring we were safe, fed, and educated.  From these three children, five grandchildren have emerged: bright, adventurous, and each one unique as the trees in a forest.

Throughout his life, dad regaled us with tales of triumph, youthful folly, and humorous missteps. As a child, I fondly remember snuggling in bed as he shared stories of ‘Broken Toe’ the lion, and read Jock of the Bushveld in his deep, booming voice. Peppered with many accents and antics, he always entertained us. 

Over decades of living my father made many friends. From his schoolboy days to the times spent working and studying in Johannesburg, Dublin, and Montreal, he amassed a great collection of characters who speak fondly of him. 

Sadly, many of these friends have passed away. May those who remain share and grow his legacy.

More hope and awe

During autumn, one can lament the loss of summer, but also look forward to the joy of snow and most especially, the new beginnings offered by spring. Fall is a time when life and death co-exist. Beauty shines through in the face of decay. 

Playing the organ at St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church, Ottawa

And so it was with my father. As a Christian, he had committed his life to God in the belief that upon dying, he would enjoy eternal life with his Father in heaven. He never feared death. Rather, he anticipated unimaginable glory and wonder. Psalm 139 is one of the readings my father requested for his funeral, from which verses 17 and 18 stand out for me:

“How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you.”

As much as my father had a great appreciation of nature, his relationship with God was one of awe. There was a hopefulness in his faith and a sense of immeasurable love innate to his Creator. I believe that even in his later years, as much as old-age frustrated him, my dad possessed a profound patience in anticipation of celebrating life after death. 

In the mixed-up world in which we currently reside, hope remained an emotional cornerstone for my father. While love may very well be the emotion that protects, trusts, and perseveres, it is hope we cling to in tough times. Hugs are currently discouraged, but we all hope for a vaccine.  While we may not fully understand what is happening around us, we all hope sanity prevails in a world that has seemingly gone mad.

And so it was with my father. From death emerges life.  Amid loss there is hope. 

I look forward to autumns ahead and all the new beginnings and lessons they may offer.

———

A memorial for Dr. Sholto Fletcher Cole will take place on November 7, 2020 in Ottawa and online.

Will the LTSE be a new Foundation for Civic Society?

“It’s tough to make predictions, especially about the future.”

This quote, often misattributed to Yogi Berra — a baseball player made famous for his various malapropisms — is a troubling truism in a world of unpredictability and an increasing prevalence of Black Swan events.

With a deluge of scary statistics from the media, this week has felt like the start of the apocalypse. With the largest wildfire in California’s history raging and more than 900,000 people killed by COVID-19 since the WHO made the coronavirus pandemic official six months ago, there is no shortage of bad news.

Amid such pessimism, let me offer a glimmer of hope: this week’s launch of the Long-Term Stock Exchange (LTSE).

A public market offering “… investment, experimentation and scaling that companies can use to find continuous success,” the LTSE “…supports companies that are built to last and investors who measure their horizons in decades and value companies accordingly.” In short, a public market that supports capital formation while sustaining long-term thinking.

Bravo, I say.

Eric Ries

Creator of the Lean Startup Methodology

The brainchild of Eric Ries, the creator of the Lean Startup methodology and the man who made famous the term ‘Minimal Viable Product (MVP)’ through his New York Times bestseller The Lean StartUp, the LTSE has a bold and necessary vision for rethinking the practice of investing.

Fifty years ago this year, the Nobel laureate in economics Milton Friedman argued that corporate governance should focus solely on shareholder value maximization. A little over a year ago, 181 CEOs from the Business Roundtable signed a “Statement on the Purpose of a Corporation” committing to four updated principles that take into account all stakeholders, a major rethink of shareholder primacy.

Building on a revised vision of how corporations can and should operate, the LTSE makes running a sustainable business a top priority. This rethink of the stock market as we know it gives higher value, for example, to training employees, R&D, community support, and environmental stewardship. In fact, companies listing on the LTSE are required to publish policies on how they will focus on long-term value creation, providing relevant stakeholders with insights into how they operate and build their businesses.

These required policies are based on the LTSE’s five principles for long-term-focused companies:

1. Consider a broader group of stakeholders and the role they play in one another’s success. This includes the company’s impact on the environment and its community, its approach to diversity and inclusion, and the firm’s approach to investing in its employees.

2. Measure success in years and decades and prioritize long-term decision-making.

3. Align executive compensation and board compensation with long-term performance.

4. Have boards of directors who engage in and have explicit oversight of a long-term strategy.

5. Engage with their long-term shareholders.

The Long-term Mindset

In his most recent book The Infinite Game, Simon Sinek argues that short-term thinking or “shortsightedness” is indicative of a finite mindset. In his words:

“Finite-focused leaders are often loath to sacrifice near-terms gains, even it is the right thing to do for the future, because near-term gains are the ones that are most visible to the market.”

Simon Sinek

British-born American author of Start With Why, The Infinite Game, and other books

Sinek offers up the difference between owning versus renting a car as an example of the foolhardiness of shareholder primacy. According to him, “…shareholders seem more focused on getting to where they want to go with little regard to the vehicle that’s taking them there.”

Such a finite mindset is reinforced and rewarded through various amplification tools and systems. From media outlets and financial pundits commenting and prognosticating daily — if not hourly — on market movements, to the proliferation of purely short-selling firms, there is the need for a profound reset in the time horizons associated with equity markets. After all, did these companies not “go public” based on IPO valuations based on expectations of future earnings generated over many years?

With reference to public companies, Sinek concludes: “If our goal is to build companies that can keep playing for lifetimes to come, then we must stop automatically thinking of shareholders as owners, and executives must stop thinking that they work solely for them. A healthier way for all shareholders to view themselves is as contributors, be they near-term or long-term focused.”

The Godfather of Long-term Investing

While much of the world faces record-high unemployment and economies are being supported by government relief programs to combat economic disruptions caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the stock market is riding high. Is this an example of long-term investors seeing light at the end of the tunnel or opportunistic investors and day traders piling into the markets to buy and trade stocks based on market movements? I suspect that more of the truth lies with the latter.

Warren Buffett

The Oracle of Omaha

It is telling that Berkshire Hathaway held $146.6 billion in cash (an all-time high for the company), at the end of its second quarter. It seems Warren Buffett, the CEO of the company since 1970, is unwilling to deploy cash in the current equity market. Buffett is, arguably, the godfather of long-term investing, and it is worth remembering that he once said: “Be fearful when others are greedy and be greedy when others are fearful.”

Yet in the face of the global travel, hospitality, retail, energy, and tourism sectors in complete disarray, trading apps like Robinhood and investing services like TD Ameritrade are seeing record usage. I wonder if these traders are thinking long-term. Are they, for example, contemplating the climate change-induced financial crisis to come? With the increasing severity and frequency of extreme weather events, there will most certainly be rising costs. There is no doubt that major storms, floods, fires, and droughts will have major impacts on mortgages, banks, home prices, and other financial assets.

For one, insurers must be quivering in their finely polished black dress shoes…

California Wildfires

As seen from San Francisco

ESG versus CSR

Last month, Canada’s main stock market, the TSX, released a ‘Primer’ to help inform companies looking to improve the way they assess, measure and disclose their environmental, social and governance (ESG) factors. In their words, these factors “can influence decisions by investors and other capital market participants.” The Primer also tried to make a distinction between ESG factors and Corporate Social Responsibility or CSR. Arguing that because so much of corporate value is now based on intangibles, CSR issues can quickly transform into material environmental and social factors… #semantics.

As I see it, ESG considerations relate to the factors — either currently apparent or in the foreseeable future — that can impact a company’s reputation and its potential to generate revenue in a sustainable manner. CSR refers to the practice of being a respected corporate citizen, including actions taken to demonstrate the careful consideration of ESG factors material to an organization.

It’s the difference between making an argument that an action should be taken because of potential impacts on the future prospects of a business, and actually taking an action based on the rationale that the action is responsible and beneficial (or at least not harmful) to the firm, its stakeholders, and systems upon which it depends for its ongoing success.

Quite simply, the difference between talking about the right thing to do (ESG), and doing the right thing (CSR).

As the Long Term Stock Exchange sets sail on its (long) journey ahead, hoping to appeal to companies interested in “long-term value creation” and being held to a higher standard, I commend their bold vision to put our society on a path to a better future. Or as Mr Ries puts it: “The Long-Term Stock Exchange represents, I hope, one brick in a new foundation for our civic society.”

Job-Hunting in the time of COVID-19

Apparently the average time spent per month on LinkedIn is just 17 minutes. I probably spend at least that amount of time on the platform before 9am!

At the centre of my world over the past few months, LinkedIn has become like a second wife to me. With algorithms feeding me a steady diet of posts from people and organizations I follow, the platform keeps me up-to-date on the world of work, various companies, and topics of interest. Jobs for which I’m qualified float onto my homepage and into my emails like the sweet smell of homemade muffins, tempting me to apply. Beyond the teasing availability of interesting jobs, there are even confidence-inducing tools to help prepare for interviews. 

What’s not to love?!

I must be honest though. It’s been a long slog. Headwinds from the COVID-19 fallout have made the task of finding work challenging. In the current environment, there are simply more fish in a smaller pond. Recently, this has started changing, but slowly.

As much as LinkedIn is the go-to online professional network, one can sometimes feel like a needle in a hay stack amid more than 706 million individuals vying for the millions of job openings listed by a plethora of companies.

So how does one differentiate oneself from others?

Getting LinkedIn 

LinkedIn claims that more than 75% of people who recently changed jobs used the platform to “inform their career decision”. In terms of the efficacy of the platform in landing a job, according to a 2017 study (is there not something more up-to-date?), 122 million LinkedIn users received interviews as a result of a LinkedIn job posting, and 35.5 million people were hired by a person they connected with on LinkedIn. 

With 100 million job applications submitted through LinkedIn every month (a figure I suspect has doubled during the pandemic), I believe that who one connects with on the platform is as important as applying for jobs. Certainly having an up-to-date profile is critical to making oneself as appealing as possible to a potential employer, but from my experience, linking up with people and having them refer you seems to be the ‘secret sauce’ in the hiring process.

Referrals are the engine of the co-called ‘invisible job market’ where it is said 80% of available roles reside. Which is to say LinkedIn probably represents 20% of all available jobs. So if a position is advertised on the platform, getting on the radar of hiring managers and/or decision-makers in the hiring process should be one of the most important things to do. 

In essence, LinkedIn makes windows of opportunity available, but in order to succeed on the platform, knocking on these windows is not enough. One has to learn to open them. More specifically, it means having others act as window openers.

The keys to unlock these metaphorical window are ‘insiders’; individuals who are directly part of the hiring process or who have influence over it. 

My LinkedIn Social Selling Index (SSI)

Getting to know SSI

Apart from securing referrals, it is important to put one’s best foot forward. To this, I recently checked out my Social Selling Index (SSI)*. If you’re not familiar with SSI, it’s a measure from LinkedIn that measures how proficient one is at establishing a professional brand, building relationships / finding people to connect with, and providing engaging insights. While it is mainly a B2B tool for sales people, it can be a useful guide in determining one’s effectiveness on the platform. 

My current SSI is 74. What this means is:

• My professional brand is pretty well developed with a rating of 19.76 out of 25. This is the extent to which I’ve established myself as a thought leader by including interesting content on my profile, posting high-quality information relevant to my followers, and securing endorsements from connections on LinkedIn. 

• My networking score is adequate at 15.61 out of 25, but it probably indicates that I can do a better job of using LinkedIn’s search tool and connecting with second-degree connections, as well as those who search my profile. 

• The third component of the SSI metric is the extent to which one offers insights when engaging on the platform. In my case, I have a passing grade (13.17 out of 25). I suppose this means that I need to do a better job of sharing relevant content, contributing clever comments, and being an active member of LinkedIn Groups pertinent to my profession of corporate communications. 

• The last SSI measure is building relationships, and here I am doing well. Fortunately, it’s something I do naturally, and hopefully, it means I’m doing a good job of establishing trust with decision-makers on LinkedIn. 

Connecting Virtually

Leveraging a network starts with building a network. Networking during pre-COVID days included informational interviews over coffee with individuals at companies one might be targeting, as well as attending events where one could meet in-person. These face-to-face opportunities are far less common nowadays so tapping into virtual networking tools is essential. 

My LunchClub profile

One networking platform that caught my attention recently is LunchClub (thanks to an invitation from Justine Greenland Duke). Offering online introductions to relevant people using AI, the service curates 1:1 video meetings that it facilitates on a weekly basis. Apart from inputting one’s interests, one can share ‘conversation starters’ such as “I’d like to learn about…”, “top-of-mind for me…”, and “My side hustle…”. One also indicates personal objectives in using the service, ranging from exploring new projects, to meeting interesting people, to getting to know other companies. 

AddI’ve met some interesting people through LunchClub and now that Google Meet, Zoom and WebEx are a normal way to meet, face-to-face encounters seem to be less important than they once were. Give it a try. 

LunchClub scheduling

The journey continues and my connections continue to grow. As I remain focused on securing the right role, I continue to follow the ABC Principle: “Always Be Connecting”…;-)

What have been your LinkedIn learnings? Any stories or tips to share regarding the process of job hunting? I’d appreciate hearing them. 

*To check out your SSI you need to be logged into your LinkedIn account and then follow: https://www.linkedin.com/sales/ssi

R.I.P. Shima

A friend passed unexpectedly this week. 

His loss has affected me greatly.  Apart from being sudden, it was an unfortunate reminder of the devastation that mental illness can cause.  

It brought to light the behind-the-scenes reality that most people do not realize is there. I have seen and experienced it, and am sorry that my friend Shima did not feel supported enough to carry on. 

I feel shame for having not spoken with him for over a year. I knew some of his struggles.  He shared them during a time when the fire in his eyes had dimmed. His normally radiant face was downcast and sullen. Low in energy, at a loss for hope, a mysterious darkness enveloped him.

Behind a smiling face was pain.

In relocating to Canada, my connection with Shima had become remote.  The face-to-face moments of understanding, and witnessing his anguish, were gone. 

And now, so is he.

Shima was a man full of love and a zest for life.  A creative cook, an energetic entrepreneur, and an experienced traveller.  Originally from Brazil, he came to South Africa to study at the Sustainability Institute, where we met.  A father to two beautiful children, Shima was a teacher at heart who sought connection with others. In teaching, he was always the student.  With childlike wonder he embraced knowledge, but more importantly, experiences.  

Fascinated by the intersection of food and culture, Shima embraced difference and shared freely.  In doing so, he encountered many more similarities between people.  Universal truths, regardless of biology, were shared. Differences in cultures and traditions became bridges for understanding and shared wisdom.  To him, food was the great connector. A meal was a classroom.  Recipes were guides to discovery.  Lessons of life emerged from local ingredients.  Histories and stories were told as they related to “how things used to be” and “what my grandmother taught me”.   

Shima shone when he was able to find a common interest.  The chance to share a matte or a cold beverage or chat by a roaring fire while sipping a delectable South African wine was where he was his happiest. These were the moments Shima loved.  

And so did we, his friends. 

With quiet wisdom, empathy, and thoughtful listening, Shima had the ability to tell stories and engage audiences.  His warmth and beaming smile were captivating.  

He had a deep connection with nature, rooted in food.  He would forage for mushrooms.  Show off the bounty of his garden.  

Shima leaves behind two children and an ex-wife, and many friends around the world.

With tears in my eyes, I watch this video profiling Shima and his perspective on life and an individual’s purpose. 

Brother, I miss you and hope you are at peace.

Stories, Leadership, and Change

“The future is made by those who can go forth with courage, with adaptability, open minds, learning to discover, to agitate and instigate, and to collaborate and build, always with a bias for action.”

These are the wise words of Beth Comstock, the first female vice chair of GE and the author of Imagine it Forward. I read her book about a year ago and it still sits with me, especially now in this time of lingering uncertainty and change. A “bias for action” is the bit I really appreciate in the above statement. Throughout her career, Comstock stood up, spoke up, and instigated change. With a Bachelor of Science under her belt, she worked her way up the ranks of corporate America; and for a good part of it as a divorced single mother. Respect!

As I contemplate the next step in my career, I have observed COVID-19 as a necessary nudge to re-consider how to work, live, and contribute to a better society. The coronavirus has caused me to rethink my priorities and what I look for in a potential employer. It has also brought into light the importance of stories and the role of storytellers, like me.

COVID-19 has also been — and continues to be — a test of leadership. It has required collaboration and an urgent response to an antigen that has exposed serious systemic risks and flaws in most nations. Responsible leaders have listened and taken necessary and difficult actions to ‘flatten the curve’ based on scientific models and the guidance of experts.

Now, to the Real Crisis…

In time, the coronavirus crisis will be considered a single event — a manageable pandemic — whereas climate change is a different beast altogether. While COVID-19 is a tangible threat to which we assume we can find a cure, the climate crisis unfolds in different places at different times and in different forms. And while the origin of the coronavirus pandemic is thought to be known, climate change cannot point a finger of blame at a single country for its causes.

The climate crisis is a global affliction, and humans are the antigens.

We are also the only species which can do anything about it. The climate crisis is our doing and we must take responsible steps to mitigate its impacts. It is an effort that will require collaboration like that taken to combat COVID-19, but over a longer period of time and on a larger scale. It will take similar sacrifices and life-changing innovation. It will also require strong leadership and the ability to harness powerful stories.

Compared to COVID-19, climate change is a global threat of a completely different scale and timeline, and waiting for more evidence or attacking scientific consensus won’t get us anywhere. We need a similarly urgent, empathic, and collaborative response to this meta crisis. What is more, rather than taking a few months of effort to ‘solve’, climate change will take decades of hard work to alter systems and mindsets in order to alter the trajectory of atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations.

Stories of Hope

To be sure, when it comes to addressing climate change, the most important changes will be initiated by the actions of public companies. As much as individuals may press for change, businesses will be the mega catalysts in concert with government at all levels. We are already starting to hear these corporate voices and observe leaders willing to evolve the social and environmental priorities of the companies they lead. Examples are emerging around the world:

• Amazon’s Climate Pledge, an initiative that commits the world’s largest company, and other companies that sign on, to be net zero carbon by 2040, 10 years before the Paris Agreement.

• The recently released documentary Closing the Loop, featuring sustainability expert Wayne Visser, includes encouraging stories of organizations in Europe, South America, and Africa moving toward a circular economy.

• RE100, a global initiative to accelerate the shift to clean energy and zero carbon grids, includes more than 240 of the “world’s most influential companies”.

Driven by a groundswell of consciousness manifested through activities such as The Peoples Climate Movement, the Climate Reality Project, and employees articulating the sort of changes they expect from their employers, companies are waking up to the necessities of taking a more balanced perspective on financial profits and sensible growth.

The public needs hope; examples of innovation and ingenuity, and tales of progress that tap into a deeper appreciation of human connectivity and systems interdependence. Fortunately, in the face of deeply troubling numbers about the future of the planet, we are starting to witness more hope in the narratives being conveyed by the private sector. As businesses apply a new lens to their roles and responsibilities, they are telling important stories about their values and value in society. Collecting, packaging, and harnessing of these narratives present exciting opportunities for communicators (like me) to have an impact and add value.

Which brings me back to Beth Comstock, who writes:

Beth Comstock

“The ability to harness story is what differentiates a good leader from a great one. The story has to bring to life the strategy.”

Strategy is a well-told story

Stories are beacons of hope. They have the power to persuade and penetrate the psyches of every human. Shared by transformational leaders, stories can be tools for tremendous change. They can ignite movements, compel voters, and re-orient societies.

Apart from occasional skirmishes with dark forces of distraction and deceit, the main role for leaders of public companies will be to tell stories of inspiration. Consider why Tesla has overtaken Toyota as the world’s most valuable auto company or why Microsoft announced earlier this year that it would be carbon negative within the next 10 years.

These are companies with leaders who articulate strategies based on globally beneficial visions. Their stories of positive change stand out above the din of destruction and denial. Offering a sense of agency and control for the public to affect change — with their investments, spending, and behaviours — such stories are centred on opportunities and options for progress and social advancement.

In the film referenced above, John Elkington, the ‘godfather of sustainability’, poignantly asks: “Can we project the sort of vision of a future that people will aspire to and want to be part of?”

Quite simply, we need to know that we stand a chance.

In this time of growing uncertainties and increasing risks, we have the potential for tremendous creativity and innovation. It is a chance to re-new and re-invent so that we come out of the spirit-crushing realities of COVID-19 with a collective optimism. There will be many more crises ahead, but through a process that Comstock refers to as “sensemaking”, individuals and organization have the opportunity to process and understand these challenges by collecting and synthesizing data into new stories and mental frameworks that can make sense of unknowns and ambiguities.

Changes in how we work and live are necessary and inevitable. They will be difficult, but doable. If we ‘turn a corner’ in our energy production and consumption, economies will benefit and we should expect a profound shift in how societies function.

But in order to turn a corner, one must first slow down, before once again speeding up.

Slowing Down to Speed Up

This is that time. Engaging thoughtfully and respectfully with those who fear change. Listening with the intention of understanding what others may be missing, afraid of losing, or unsure of. As communicators, we play an important role in this process as we work with leaders to convince others to believe in a future where barriers to change do not seem insurmountable.

Asking probing questions is the starting point to initiating change. We cannot shy away from interrogating opinions, establishing facts, and challenging lies. Curiosity sometimes results in confrontation, but to me, that is better than avoiding conversation for fear of offending anyone.

Climate change may be daunting but from great challenges come great stories. These stories are waiting to be told. Stories of companies embracing change. Leaders leading with more holistic perspectives. Governments acting with long-term plans.

We need to be bold in finding and sharing these stories. And as networks replace hierarchies, and bureaucracies give way to more decentralization, there is a natural ‘trickle up’ of truth and reconciling past mistakes.

I want to be part of changing the future for the better. So if you are part of an organization looking to improve its communication capabilities, let me know if I can assist with articulating your journey ahead.

Originally shared on LinkedIn (July 7, 2020).

The Fiction of "Race"

I struggle with the term “race” as much as I do “African” or “European”.  For as much as an Italian and an Irishman may be considered European, these countries’ citizens are incomparable in culture, language, and generally, physical appearance.  As for the term “African”, how can one lump a continent’s peoples into one group when its massive geography boasts 55 nations and almost 2,000 Indigenous languages?  

And then there’s the slippery matter of race. It’s a ball of wax wrapped in an enigma, covered in a conundrum, and bound by history, societal forces, classism, and a hierarchy of influences ranging from academia to the church to anthropology (in whatever order you see as appropriate).  

If asked my “race”, I would say that I am “white” and my son is “black”.  My son’s skin is dark and my skin is light, as is my wife’s.  Outside observers would generally call our family “mixed race”. (At home we refer to my son’s skin as “beautiful chocolate” and my skin as “delicious vanilla”.  There’s something far more palatable to these descriptions than tones that simply convey the presence or absence of light. After all, at least according to way physics describes it, black and white are not true colours.

As a “white” person born in South Africa, a country that unapologetically institutionalized racism for decades, I benefited from privilege due to the colour of my skin. My “race” gave me a leg up on other citizens.  It afforded me access to schools, social networks, and other benefits unavailable to the majority of the population.  (As a small reminder of this, I still have a piece of paper issued by the South African government that categorized me as a “white person”.  Tucked in an old passport, the official document still horrifies me.)

Today, I am the father of an adopted boy, who is, biologically, of mixed heritage (Congolese and Cape Coloured/Xhosa).  While I might call myself an Afro-Canadian, my heritage is similarly mixed: English, Scottish and Norwegian.  Most might simply refer to me as a “Caucasian”. Again, a ridiculous term if one considers that Caucasia is historically, a geographic area that encompasses Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia and Russia.  

The Other Plague 

As we face a global pandemic due to COVID-19, I can’t help but be reminded - due to the outpouring of anger on the streets of America and other countries in the world - that there is a similarly pernicious plague afflicting the globe.  It is a manifestation of a fiction called race, a societal malignancy that perpetuates socio-economic inequities, and a classification system which polarizes populations. Racism is an aberration that should not exist, but it does.  The invention of “race” has created a nasty by-product called racism.  As one author puts it: “…there is no such thing as “race”—only racism.”  

I agree. 

The fundamental problem is that “race” is a non-scientific social construct.  My DNA is 99.9% identical to my son’s. As Jonathan Jarry from McGill University’s Office for Science and Society points out, of the 0.1% in genetic variance between “races” (i.e. me and my son): “ almost all of it (95.7% to be exact) is found between individuals within the same race.” Despite what our eyes perceive as difference between skin tones, there is actually more genetic diversity within a “race” than between “races”.

In the wake of George Floyd’s horrific death under the unrelenting the knee of a police officer - among other horrendous deaths of Afro-Americans at the hands of police - I am struggling with the concept of “race” and more specifically, the ‘embeddedness’ of racism in society.   Looking from the outside in, it seems that  institutionalized racism - a subtle dilution of the country’s slave-owning past and an economic cornerstone of the world’s most largest economy -  has lingered as a sad reality in the United States for decades.  The Civil Rights movement of the 1960s has not disappeared.  It has had no reason to be satisfied with America’s progress away from the underlying belief that fellow humans are lessor, simply based on the colour of their skin.  

The protests that have erupted - in America and around the world - since Floyd’s death reveal a considerable amount of pent-up rage and frustration after years of anti-black abuse and harassment.  (Canada has by no means been immune from this angst.) The current reality is that in the US, its black citizens are two and a half times more likely to be killed by police.  Year after year, incidents of excessive force from the ‘brotherhood in blue’ are reported, documented and then lamented.  But little has changed.  

Today we are seeing a mix of frustration and anger conflagrating into protest, with some of it infiltrated by anarchists and looters.  By and large, however, protests have been peaceful, encompassing people from all walks of life.  As America prepares to elect its next President, I would also expect the Million Man March  (Take Two) in the coming months. The fact is, racism remains a substantive issue in America more than 50 years after the assassination of Martin Luther King, a man volunteered to represent his people, an oppressed and disrespected portion of the population. 

Racism Redefined

The consequences of racism—from the slave trade, to Nazi Germany, to the genocide of First Nations in the “New World”, to the present plight of refugees around the world—remain horrific and real, even in 2020. Pronouncements of “us versus them”, framed by politicians in the fear of ‘otherness’, linger in the air like a bad smell. The stench of pepper spray and tear gas on the streets - the most powerful platform for protest and public attention - are extensions of this rhetoric.

Fortunately, there are signs that the term “racism” is being rethought as something more than about discrimination or prejudice from one person against another.  It is an important recognition that racism is an institutional reality and that systematic oppression is real.  This change, recently announced by Merriam-Webster (producers of dictionaries since 1828) is mainly thanks to the efforts of Kennedy Mitchum of Drake University, a woman who hails from Missouri, the state that saw the Ferguson Uprising almost six years ago, sparked by the fatal shooting of Michael Brown, a “black” man, by a “white” police officer.  

Coming to Terms with “Race”

As a “white” person, I have to come to terms with the fact that I have benefitted, and continue to benefit, from a system that has perpetuated a view that one “race” is inferior to another.  As my son grows older, I will have to explain to him that he will need to be extra careful when dealing with law enforcement officials, and that the colour of his skin may be a liability in some environments, and even a threat.  

Those won’t be easy conversations, and I can only hope that I won’t have to have them because society has evolved. But that will depend on all of us thinking about the roles we play in perpetuating systemic oppression of people because of the colour of their skin.  Making progress will be less about the defunding of police or changing laws.  

It will come down to all of us.  The jokes we tell. The people we hire.  The friends we make.  The partners we choose.  The media we support. 

I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking, researching, and writing this post.  It has been necessary introspection.  A painful rumination. It has been somewhat cathartic. And as much as it may have taken you less than nine minutes to read it, I can’t help trying to imagine what it would be like to feel the full weight of a police officer pressing down on my neck with his knee, unable to breathe, for eight minutes and 46 seconds*.

Dave Chapelle’s Netflix special ‘8:46’ on YouTube

*The Netflex special 8:46 is an extraordinary (outdoor) performance by Dave Chappelle who ‘goes off’ on the issue of institutionalized racism in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Storytelling from a master comedian and social commentator, it is an extremely powerful perspective, and I would argue necessary viewing (if you can handle a bit of profanity), from a modern-day jester of Shakespearean significance.

The Spaces Between

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. 
 In that space is our power to choose our response. 
 In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

This quote is often mistakenly attributed to Victor Frankl, the famed author of Man’s Search for Meaning. Whether or not he wrote or spoke these words, they hold great meaning, especially during this time of social isolation and physical distancing.

The statement refers to the difference between reacting and responding to a stimulus or situation. To respond, is to analyze and consider a number of factors before acting. Reacting, on the other hand, is almost an instinctive, instantaneous action. The one action welcomes space. The other ignores it.

Stuck at home, approaching middle-age, unemployed, and attempting to keep my five-year-old son ’edutained’ during the COVID crisis, I have also discovered other ‘spaces between’. Consider the following:

Spousal Separation

My wife spends most of the day on the top floor of our house working in our home office, while I base myself at the kitchen table, two floors away (if I’m not outside). Even though we are living and working in the same house, we are, in effect, physically separated from one another for the majority of each week day.

Virtual Friendships

Most relationships are now virtual. There are no hugs. No two-cheek kisses. No high-fives. We Zoom and text, making liberal use of emojis and exclamation marks. It is surreal engagement, that as not a preferred reality for humans, inherently social creatures. Fixating one’s gaze on a pinhole camera to participate in a ‘face-to-face’ conversation is bizarre and unsatisfying. We have been forced to adopt an unnatural way to hang out.

Work-Life Imbalance

For me, commuting to a job has ended and work deadlines no longer preoccupy my mind. Coffee shops have devolved to ‘drive-thru’ outlets setup to get patrons in and out as quickly as possible. Dining out has become predominantly take-out-centric. There are no gyms to go to and even today, yellow caution tape remains around most playgrounds.

The ever elusive ‘work-life balance’ has been up-ended.

Looking at the three scenarios above, I am thankful that I have found three distinct ‘spaces between’: 1) being a dad; 2) connecting with things and people who matter (including myself); and 3) contemplating future employment in the context of the ‘new abnormal’.

My most cherished ‘space between’ is the time I have with my son. When he went to school, I used to make his lunch in the morning, but never see him eat it. I used to choose an outfit for him, but never have any idea of what he did all day. Now I see him daily. We enjoy meals together. I read to him. We wrestle. I also get to watch him play — at a distance — with his friends, and he educates me on the extraordinary exploits of the Paw Patrol crew. It has been wonderful to see him develop social skills, learn, run around, ride his bike, and ask questions that challenge me to answer with wisdom, kindness, and love.

The current crisis has forced all of us to avoid each other, but it has also brought many of us closer together. For example, I spend more time connecting with my immediate family. This includes a weekly Zoom meeting, with the chairmanship rotated weekly, in which we connect from three different locations. There are at least 12 of us who log in to laugh, chat, and appreciate each other. These gatherings feature faces on screens and the chance to see and hear how we are all doing. Similarly with friends, we don’t just text anymore. We speak face-to-face on WhatsApp that for me is a friendship upgrade.

Certainly, a large part of realizing more ‘spaces between’ is the fact I’m currently not employed. As a result, I have more time to read, write and ponder life. Accompanying this outward gain in perspective has been an inward journey, as I have developed a daily habit of meditation, coupled with Wim Hof breathing. During these times of quiet, I find invisible and unnoticed spaces, like the moments between inhaling and exhaling. As I become more introspective, learning to pause more, I am becoming a better father. Before reacting to a misbehaving child, I now take a breathe, and respond with love and care. Previously, I might have said “stop that!” or “what are you doing?” Today, I first listen to myself and take a moment to judge how best to respond. While I am not 100% successful in being empathetic and thoughtful in my responses, it is certainly better than before.

It seems that from a negative situation, positive changes have occurred in how I view my value in society. This includes my role and responsibilities as a father and better appreciating the ‘invisible work’ of parenting and teaching. I am learning to develop better relationships and through a process of ‘looking within’, I have come to better understand what I want from employer and my work environment.

While COVID is causing many societies to reimagine, and reinterpret, and reboot themselves, it has equally challenged individuals to find spaces between. On a recent ride through Toronto’s ravines — impressive green spaces in the midst of the city — I was reminded of the importance of finding new places, discovering a different pace, but also the power of choice.

It reminds me of a quote, legitimately attributed to Frankl:

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, 
 we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Indeed. Imposed isolation and physical distancing should not prevent us from abandoning the freedom to choose how we ‘show up’. We all have a choice in how we pursue relationships, build community, and care for others.

We can also choose to find more ‘spaces between’.

The (empty) patio at the Drake Commissary

The Earth Prayer

Two months from today, James Lovelock, a maverick British scientist and a controversial icon in the environmental movement, will turn 101-years-old. He is most famous for co-developing the Gaia Hypothesis, the belief that our planet is a massive self-regulating organism affecting various interconnected systems — like the atmosphere, hydrosphere, and lithosphere — that maintain life on Earth.

With COVID-19, some argue that Gaia is sending us a strong signal to re-evaluate our fundamental values, including to what extent we respect and care for the planet. Is the current pandemic a profound warning that our recklessness and consumption patterns are having profound impacts of Earth’s life-giving systems?

Most understand COVID-19 to be a temporary crisis. Unfortunately, climate change, the meta crisis of our time, is unabating. It is not a momentary concern and certainly won’t be “solved” by human actions alone. We need to collaborate with nature and harness its abilities to counteract the deleterious effects of excessive carbon in our atmosphere.

Buying an electric car won’t do it. Recycling will have a negligible effect, at best. And moving away from fossil fuels as our primary energy source is only the start of what needs to be done. If we are to stand any chance of reversing the concerning trends of rising sea levels and atmospheric C02 concentrations, we need to give Mother Nature a helping hand if we are to make amends for how we have wronged Her.

Sounds a bit like penance, doesn’t it?

We know we are responsible for the increasing levels of greenhouse gases undermining our environment, but are doing relatively little to right our recklessness and desist our destructive ways. And yet, Gaia continues to give so much that we might live.

Wondering this — and adopting Lovelock’s unconventional and challenging ways — the prayer below is one of gratitude to Gaia.

The Earth Prayer

Our Mother, who envelopes us,
Gaia is your name;
Daughter of the sun;
A planet unlike any one;
Earth, our solitary haven.
You sustain life, embrace death;
Provide breathe that then passes
Recovering, reclaiming, rebalancing all.
Defender from solar radiation,
With armour of invisible air.
For water is the lifeblood.
Powerful and protective.
For every creature
Like us.

You may notice the structure is similar to the Lord’s Prayer, a prayer taught by Jesus to his disciples who requested guidance on how to pray. The Lord’s Prayer, premised on human guilt and a theocentric view of the world, extols God the Father and provides a simple way to repent of one’s evilness. The Earth Prayer, on the other hand, offers a more reverential stance toward the visible and tangible nature of life in the form of Mother Nature, or Gaia.

Our planet depends upon many mysteries, and a subtle balance between calm and chaos. We enjoy a very precise position from the sun that allows for so much to exist on Earth, with a confluence of chemicals and invisible forces that together, achieve something extraordinary called life. I am grateful every day for the wonder around me and the way everything is in flux, unceasingly oscillating between order and disorder.

And as we try to figure out the current global challenge before us (caused by the coronavirus), consider that we are on a planet — part of a solar system among hundreds of billions of galaxies — that orbits a middle-aged celestial body whose own corona — or crown — is mysteriously hotter than its surface.

Hard as we try, we can’t explain this anomaly. But we certainly appreciate its heat and energy.

All praise to the Earth, our queen, and our royal sun!

Let us be thankful for the world we live in, including the many mysteries that allow for us to exist.

Our 'Global Winter of Discontent'

“Now is the winter of our discontent” begins Shakespeare’s Richard III (basically the Sixteen Century version of Game of Thrones). Whether living in the northern or southern hemisphere — all of us are experiencing a ‘global winter of discontent’ as we face down the devastation caused by COVID-19.

However, before our species sees a ‘Global Spring’, we have some important decisions to consider. If the coronavirus has given us anything positive, it is a necessary break to reflect and re-examine ourselves, our economic systems, and our values. We are in a time when we are being asked to take stock, evaluate priorities, and consider humanity’s ‘progress’.

As one writer has put it, we are experiencing The Great Pause.

Don’t Be A Duke of Gloucester

In his opening monologue, Richard, the Duke of Gloucester laments his bad luck and being a cripple. What ensues is a riveting plot that includes betrayal, deception, manipulation, revenge and murder. With complete disregard for others and a voracious appetite for power, the tragedy’s protagonist devolves and eventually dies amid his destructive schemes and selfishness.

Having been locked down and our economies crippled, we should be careful that our response to the current crisis is NOT like Shakespeare’s Richard. We have all experienced isolation, loss, and dismay due to the current global crisis. But we have also seen the power of community, the importance of family and friends, and of course, the noble power of selflessness.

We are facing humanity’s ‘moment of truth’, a Great Reckoning. As individuals, leaders, organizations and societies, it is a time to instil hope and a sense of opportunity in ourselves and others.

Following are three modern-day lessons pulled from Richard’s sardonic soliloquy.

Stern Alarms…More Meetings

Facing “stern alarums” and participating in “merry meetings” online, we currently have the opportunity to ponder and plan renewal for ourselves and how we work, together. Basically how we ‘show up’ with others. Maybe it is as fundamental as reconsidering how to treat the person who serves us coffee, cleans our home, or cares for our family? Perhaps it is rethinking the basic concept or value of what is considered “work”. Whatever the realization, how we engage others — whether face-to-face or on Zoom — should be done with optimism and a sincere valuing of others in the room (virtual or otherwise).

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up

It is the time to take a fresh breath of air (featuring less carbon dioxide and other pollutants) to gain a new perspective. It is a chance to ponder how we wish to affect the next season in our individual lives, as well as the life of the planet. From death, comes life, and during these times, we have the opportunity to create a new world order from the disorder created by COVID-19.

How are you looking at the future on a grander scale? Have you, in fact, gained a fresh perspective and a new sense of context from your experience of the coronavirus?

For some, renewal might be contemplating a new role, additional education, or ‘shifting of gears’ in their career. For others, it might be reconsidering whether they report financial results in quarters (mere slivers of time). Maybe it is a rebalancing of profit and purpose with more attention to environmental impacts, transparency and accountability.

Weak Piping Time of Peace

Our economies have received a significant reset, being crippled like Shakespeare’s Richard. But rather than turning inward, this is the time to seek out others. We are a highly social, co-dependent species. As we have learned through the current pandemic, self-preservation depends on a collective effort, and some degree of personal sacrifice. If we look back on history, we realize that everyone — from defeating enemies to feeding ourselves — have depended on the extent to which we collaborate.

Fortunately, we are seeing a variety of organizations and some nations bandying together to fight COVID-19. Competitors — some for the first time — are working together to tackle shared problems. What these organizations are increasingly coming to realize is that planning and strategies cannot be implemented in isolation. We are a highly social, co-dependent species. Collaboration, cooperation, coopetition… whatever you want to call it, are all required.

In our race for efficiency, autonomy, and individualism, we have forgotten a vital truth: we need each other. We have also come to the realization that growth is not infinite, just as summer is not forever. But our Global Spring is coming, if we choose correctly.

Don’t be the Duke of Gloucester. Choose to be the Anti-Villain.

Originally published in Medium.

Becoming Future-Fit: Green Swans, Onions & Audioslave

What do a Green Swan, an onion, and an American rock band formed in 2001 have to do with one other, let alone the current COVID-19 pandemic and some of the other challenges faced by humankind?

Let me explain.

I recently finished Green Swans, the latest book from John Elkington, the ‘godfather of sustainability’. Elkington is a modern day sage, environmentalist, and an “invisible elbow” metaphorically jabbing the ribs of company executives aspiring to better manage their companies’ ‘Triple Bottom Line’, a term coined by Elkington decades ago. A self-described “Chief Pollinator” of ideas and strategies to help organizations thoughtfully consider their financial, social, and environmental risks, obligations, and opportunities, the author introduces the concept of a Green Swan. Building on the Black Swan theory put forward in 2007 by Nassim Nicholas Taleb which focused on the extreme impact of rare and unpredictable outlier events, Elkington’s Green Swan refers to a profound market shift, generally catalyzed by unexpected challenges and changing paradigms, to ultimately deliver exponential progress in the form of economic, social, and environmental wealth creation.

The release of the book comes at a time in human history when governments in most countries are being challenged to deliver healthcare and social safety nets in the face of a global pandemic. Companies and NGOs are also attempting to figure out answers to “what’s next?”. More broadly, the book finds us in our current reality called the Anthropocene, a time when human beings have become a force of nature, having reshaped the planet at an unprecedented rate. While our species has been around for a minuscule portion of time, in the past 200 years we have affected profound changes to our 4.5 billion-year-old planet.

The Anthropocene Project by photographer Edward Burtynsky

Wading through anecdotes, snippets of speeches and papers, and personal experiences he has had over the years, Elkington gets to the ‘meat’ of the matter (on page 220 in my copy) with the following passage, effectively encapsulating where we are as a species and the stark realities we face in trying re-balance life on Earth:

“Most of us avert our eyes, close our minds. We assume that the natural order will reassert itself, somehow — just as we assume that populism, trade wars, and deglobalization will sort themselves out, somehow. But eleventh hour escapes seem increasingly unlikely. Instead, we seem to be forcing ourselves into the biggest civilizational migration in history, where we have no option but to shift our economies and our business technologically, geographically, politically, and culturally.”

Indeed, we face a number of ‘Wicked Problems’ — described by John Camillus as having “innumerable causes…and (no) right answer”. The author also introduces and discusses the nuances of ‘Super Wicket Problems’ (SWP). While a Wicked Problem has complex interdependences and no determinable stopping point, a SWP possesses a distinct time pressure (think exponential versus linear). Of the four distinguishing characteristics of a SWP, the one I find most interesting is that current policies discount the future irrationally, something Elkington describes as the “beating heart of the matter”. The reality is that as a species trying to ‘solve’ massive challenges, we are embedded in the same dysfunction systems that we ourselves have created. Unfortunately, we also continue to downplay the urgency and timescale of the SWP at hand (i.e. the climate crisis).

With his “Swanifesto”, Elkington has put forward a working draft for the future of capitalism, democracy and sustainability. Challenging leaders and those interested in changing our broken economic and ecological systems, he suggests that market-based forms of value creation must be redesigned from the ground up to value all forms of life. The solutions we need involve resilience and regeneration; not more efficiencies. As he puts it:

“Ultimately, any true Green Swan will help — simultaneously — to regenerate the natural, social, and economic worlds. An existentially taxing, civilizational task. But we have left ourselves no alternative. The upside is that, for the foreseeable future, this will be by far the biggest opportunity for adventure, growth, and evolution in the tightly coupled stories of humankind, capitalism, and our home planet, Earth.”

Dicing onions

Which brings me to onions.

As someone who loves to cook, I appreciate fine produce for what it can add to a dish. Onions (and their various cousins like leeks, garlic and shallots) are staple ingredients in many cultures, and the more I think about it, they represent some of the mega challenges before us.

Let me explain.

Onions are packed with potential (and a powerful punch) under the protective layers of their light, translucent skin. Uncut, an onion is an innocuous vegetable. Smell one and it doesn’t reveal much about what is inside.

But once the cells in an onion are broken, it’s like pulling a pin on a hand grenade. Enzymes and chemicals interact with one another to transform the juicy bulb into an offensive ‘crisis’. An invisible agent of discomfort suddenly becomes apparent. The onion’s pungent smell is often a precursor to one’s eyes watering, like receiving a punch to the nose. Its acrid, sulphurous odour is inescapable and for some, may cause a mild panic. (In my case, my wife always asks me to cut the onions as she just “can’t deal”.)

So, here we have an example of an entity being introduced into the environment that seems relatively benign. However, once it is disturbed and its stench becomes dispersed, it surreptitiously penetrates our bodies, threatening the wellbeing of those in infiltrates.

Sound familiar?…

Here’s the thing. If one soldiers through and slices an onion into appropriately sized cubes, and then carefully cooks it in oil and/or butter (being careful not to overheat and destroy the sweet potential within), a whole new world of flavours appears. The sugars locked in the onion caramelize and reveal themselves, creating a surprising sweetness and colour.

The key ingredients in the process — a metamorphosis from fearful to fantastic — are patience and persistence. By powering through what initially may appear like an invasion of your personal space and comfort levels, a perceived danger can become part of a delicious dish. This is a central message in Green Swans.

Which brings me to Audioslave, a band formed in 2001, and featuring the inimitable Chris Cornel as its lead singer. They were an unlikely combination of styles and individuals, but they worked. In 2006, the band released their Revelations album which included the track The Shape of Things to Come with the following lyrics:

Now I feel the worst is near,
I hold them close and count their years.
And pray a ray of light appears
To shine down on us here.

[Chorus]

Breakdown in the shape of things to come
But I’m moving on like a soldier
And I say now when all is said and done
It’s not ours to break the shape of things to come.

Chris Cornell photographed by Mark Seliger for Rolling Stone Magazine

The ultimate lesson in all of this?

Leaders — in fact, all of us — cannot shirk from our responsibilities to think about and challenge some of the underpinnings of our respective societies. We may struggle to find the words. We may worry about the ‘unprecedented’ nature of the problems that we face — full of contradictions and complexities — but like cutting an onion, we must fight through the discomfort of the moment (eyes streaming with tears) to discover new ways to find the sweetness within a horrible situation.

In may be learning how to better slice the onion. It may be swapping out the tools we use to either cut or cook. Either way, achieving a delicious sauce will not happen without cutting into an onion.

And so we must, if we are to see the Green Swan of regenerative capitalism emerge from our current reality, look for new ways to think about, articulate and tackle the problems before us. We face humankind’s Rubicon moment, but with human ingenuity, brave leadership, and seeing our world with new eyes, we stand a chance.

Thank you to John Elkington, the lowly onion, and the lyrics of Chris Cornell, RIP, for opening my (teary) eyes and giving me some hope.

Published on April 29, 2020 on Medium.

Copyright © 2014 CartoonArts International

The O’Brien Factor

Peter O’Brien

My friend Peter O’Brien is a ‘day brightener’.  He’s one of those people who - if you encounter him during the course of a day - consistently complements the moment with his wit, forthrightness, and good humour.  I’ve run into him a few times in the area (otherwise known as his ‘hood), including today, following an early morning stocking up on quarantine essentials at a local shop.

Peter and I met when I was president of the Toronto chapter of the McGill Alumni Association, back in the early 2000s.  We spontaneously reconnected when I returned to the city last year and keep running into each other, which always results in a fantastic impromptu chat.

A talented communicator, as well as an adept marketer, fundraiser and author, Peter has published seven books.  Based on this, one might infer that he is a highfalutin intellectual, but Peter is, in fact, a very down-to-earth gentleman who also happens to have been a ‘roughneck’ on an oil rig during his career. Deeply engaged with various arts, environmental, and educational institutions, Peter is currently the Director of Communications, Marketing & Development at the Glenn Gould Foundation.  (For those who are not familiar with this famous Canadian pianist, read up.)

Quite simply, Peter is a Renaissance man, but just a little shorter in stature than you might expect. 

In speaking with Peter today, I was once again reminded of his fantastic enthusiasm and brilliant mind.  Working where he does, he pointed out how “we’re in Glenn Gould’s time”. Indeed, Gould was a serious germaphobe and someone who used to hole himself up in his mid-town Toronto apartment for long stretches of time. Basically, he didn’t enjoy people - an interesting perspective to have had as a professional pianist. He is quoted as having said at one point: “I detest audiences - not in their individual components, but en masse I detest audiences.” Gould was, however, fond of animals. 

I must say that I am rather tired of the long arching walks that strangers make to avoid me on the sideway. (Is it because I don’t wear a face mask?) Some even wait at the end of the aisles in grocery stores for fear of passing by me with their trolley and penetrating the 6-foot ‘radius of safety’. Which is why it was so wonderful to have a good ‘chin-wag’ with an old(er) friend. It reinforced to me the importance of face-to-face conversation and the nuances of this kind of communication.

Technology is helpful during this time of self isolation and social distancing, but Zoom is merely a conversational abstraction. Personal, one-on-one interaction is unmatched. It’s where one can appreciate another, in person: the whole person, together with laughter and learning. Semantic nuances, an individual’s unique personality and characteristic facial expressions - including a smile - can’t be missed ‘in the flesh’.

I long for this kind of human engagement to return. Thank you, Peter.

Rescuing Ourselves From Ourselves

Yesterday was Earth Day so I watched Planet of the Humans, a documentary written, directed, and narrated (poorly) by Jeff Gibbs, an environmentalist and a longtime friend and collaborator of filmmaker Michael Moore. 

To be blunt, the film broke me. Specifically, it fractured my worldview in three ways:

1. It revealed the pervasiveness of the ruling elite in manipulating ‘truth’, which stirred a feeling of profound disgust within me.

2. It exposed movements, purporting to offer better options to fossil fuels, as dishonest or at least disingenuous about the ‘embeddedness’ of certain corporate interests within them, which left me feeling betrayed. 

3. And then there was the final scene.  It featured an orangutang in its denuded habitat, at first hanging with its child - confused and exhausted on a leafless tree - and finally extracted - traumatized and lifeless - from the muddy furrow of a decimated landscape.  This caused me visceral sadness, and these images and their accompanying vocals still haunt me. 

As someone who considers himself to be relatively environmentally aware and educated, I’m feeling deflated.  The global economy is in tatters.  I’m sitting at home, unemployed, and questioning my allegiance to leaders of some of the most respected ‘green’ NGOs.  (I’m looking at you Bill McKibbon and Al Gore.) Seemingly unaware or intentionally ignorant of the sources of their respective organization’s funding, these individuals appear to lead causes that are not fully transparent with respect to the influence they receive from certain corporate interests.  Or so the film implies.

The movie also takes shots at so-called Socially Responsible Investing. According to the monotonous narrator, certain investment funds position themselves as vehicles to ‘enable a greener future’  but are, in reality, murky collections of exploitative resource companies masquerading as environmentally friendly. Furthermore, the documentary contends that clean energies - fossil fuel alternatives like solar panels and wind turbines - depend upon non-renewable fuels to operate, the extraction of rare minerals, and the devastation of large swaths of land, all in the name of ‘responsible investment'.

It would seem that renewable energy’s offer of “zero marginal cost” is in question. The documentary raises some serious doubts, contending there are unaccounted externalities in manufacturing green energy components, and that the limited lifecycle renewable power generating technologies depend on non-renewables to function.  In short, the film claims that renewables (like wind and solar) have not so much replaced fossil fuels, as they have sidelined them as necessary support fuels to the ‘green revolution’.

For me, this was not a revelation as much as the film’s exposure of the extent to which biofuels have dominated the renewable energy mix. I was appalled to learn of the destruction of forests in the name of renewable energy and the extent to which these facilities are ‘under the radar’.  I had no idea that the vast majority of renewable energy produced in Germany (2019) - a global leader in solar energy - comes from biofuels. The same can be said for most other European countries and all of North America. 

The Climate Reality Project, an initiative led by Al Gore, and of which I am a member, has as its mission to take “urgent action to cut greenhouse gas emissions and speed the global shift to renewables” and to push for “practical clean energy policies”. It makes no mention of biofuels.  Why is that given their dominance among renewables?

Currently, global wealth is in free-fall and most countries are in the midst of a downward debt spiral as a result of COVID-19. And as the world attempt to decarbonize - as it must - demand for fossil fuels has plummeted. Presumably renewable energy projects will continue to be deployed post-Coronavirus, and transport will continue to become more efficient and electrified.  Fossil-fuel companies - currently with severely depressed stock prices - will have their assets ‘stranded’, a troubling future for a fossil fuel exporting nation such as Canada, if not the global economy.

Is the Carbon Bubble about to burst? Are we at an inflection point where additional investments in green energy (supported by subsidies) will merely result in negative environmental returns?  

So much is unclear and precarious at this time that it is hard to remain positive about the future.  But as a father of a five-year-old, I have to be.  If he asks, I need to look him in the eyes and tell him “everything is going to be OK.  The current situation is just temporary.” 

But is it?  

I’m not sure, but what is clear is that we are going to see more the frequent and destructive climate-related disasters. Where will that leave governments, insurance companies, and everyday citizens is even more troubling. 

The illusion of unlimited growth on a planet of finite resources is settling in. 

When are we going to rescue ourselves from ourselves?

From the final scene of Planet of the Humans

Life is...

Mother Teresa

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is tragedy, confront it.
Life is adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.

Disruption Demands Heroics

The songwriter Bonnie Tyler (of “Total Eclipse Of The Heart” fame) had another hit entitled “Holding Out For A Hero” as part of the soundtrack for the iconic 1984 film Footloose. It includes the following lyrics:

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?
…
I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light
He’s gotta be sure
And it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life!

Indeed. We’re all looking for a hero to rescue us from the current crisis.

Sadly, what we face is a ‘sub-crisis’, a crisis within a meta crisis.

This week marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, but due to the coronavirus, it won’t include mass protests or celebrations. Around the world, streets are empty; as are offices and many factories. But the meta crisis called climate change remains a threat to life on earth. While it doesn’t have the immediacy and mass panic of a pandemic, it is a real and present danger.

Through the current coronavirus pandemic, we have come to realize that the global economic system is highly precarious. It only took a virus (with a relatively low mortality rate) to tip it and cause widespread panic, a global economic shutdown, and a precipitous decline in the financial markets. We are now seeing, for the first time, negative pricing for oil futures.

We need a hero and that hero is… all of us. Locally and globally.

But where do we start? What are the biggest challenges and how can we change? Fundamentally, what is the narrative that can take us forward, together?

Undoubtedly, COVID-19 has given us a better perspective on our collective identity as a species and brought humanity into a new worldview. We have felt a real threat to ourselves and our societies. But it’s just beginning.

While the destabilization of the global economy has brought about great empathy and a sense of a common purpose in some leaders, we also need a comprehensive investment in underlying infrastructures. If we consider some of the great paradigm shifts in human history — what the Austrian political economist Schumpeter called “creative destruction” — the catalyst to change economic models and forms of governance has been investments in infrastructure (think railways, electricity grids, roads and airports).

The world currently faces a convergence of technologies that can radically transform how we power our economies, move goods and people, and collaborate. In short, the opportunity at hand is to build a new “ecological civilization”.*

The heroic part is in how we can influence our leaders — and do our own part to change our lifestyles and organize — so that this occurs. It will take trust and it will take cooperation at all levels of society. It will also take a cohesive vision.

This is our ‘rubicon moment’ as a species.

Why infrastructure and why now?

The time is ripe for a significant systemic change. Not a ‘tinkering around the edges’ and certainly not supporting ‘the way it was’. This entails a bold re-building of underlying infrastructures, including a rapid transition to renewable energy sources to power our economies. If we are to ensure resiliency in our economies, this transformation is critical.

According to Jeremy Rifkin — a respected advisor to heads of state around the world and the famed author of more than 20 books, including his most recent, Green New Deal — infrastructure is:

“A techno-socio bond that brings together new communications technologies, new energy sources, new modes of mobility and logistics, and new built environments, enabling communities to more efficiently manage, power, and move their economic activity, social, life and governance.”

Jeremy Rifkin

Rifkin’s vision of the future — which is a near-term reality with technologies already at hand — buildings function as zero-carbon energy-efficient smart nodes embedded in an Internet of Things (IoT) matrix, and green micro power plants are networked with distributed energy storage. He argues that collaboration between local and federal government; the real estate sector — described as “the most vulnerable to becoming the biggest stranded asset in the world in the coming decade”; and pension funds (the world’s largest pool of investment capital), is required.

Creating public-private partnerships under an ESCO (energy service company) business model, he has recommended 23 actions (all U.S.-focused) as part of what he describes as an emerging consensus on initiatives that need to be happen concurrently to accelerate progress toward a better future. In total, he proposes a $9.2 trillion investment in infrastructure, understanding that every dollar invested adds $3 to the U.S. GDP and creates millions of new jobs.

For me, these are the top-10 initiatives of his Green New Deal (in no particular order):

1. Implement a carbon tax that will increase over time with a significant portion of the revenues returned to vulnerable families and the rest going to help finance green infrastructure.

2. Ensure that the world’s leading economies continue to collaborate to ensure there is interconnectivity and transparency in the deployment and operation of smart green ‘glocal’ infrastructure, including standardized interconnections between IoT technologies.

3. Enact legislation to establish a Green Bank that can provide funds to state, county, and municipal green banks that leverage these funds with pension funds and other investment capital to scale green infrastructure build-outs.

4. Institute graduated tax hikes on new internal combustion vehicles, and grant tax credits on the purchase of electric vehicles.

5. Transition public land to zero-emission assets and infrastructure, including tax credits, deductions, grants and low-interest loans to encourage the retrofitting of buildings to increase energy efficiencies.

6. Prioritize and finance the upgrading of all water and sewage systems to be ‘climate change-ready’ (i.e. be resilient to hurricanes and other extreme weather events).

7. Redeploy an increasing percentage of military expenditures to ensure troops are available to manage climate-related disaster response missions.

8. Prioritize business support opportunities in the most disadvantaged communities to provide training for new employment opportunities that are part of scaling up of green infrastructure, and upgrading all public health services in these communities.

9. Substantially increasing the taxation of the ‘super-rich’ (i.e. a 70% marginal tax on those making $10 million or more per year).

10. Quickly phase out and eliminate fossil fuel subsidies that currently amount to at least $15 billion going to oil, gas, and goal industries in the United States.

Making up for Underinvestment

Unfortunately, infrastructure spending has not kept pace with the kind of techno-social development the world needs. In the case of the United States — a global laggard** in infrastructure spending among highly developed nations — McKinsey has projected that the world’s largest economy will need to increase its current overall infrastructure investment by 0.5% of GDP between 2017 and 2035 just to keep pace with the conventional infrastructure needs of the country.

Like all of us, the power grid is aging, becoming less reliable and costly. In the US, old thermal power plants need to be ‘retired’ during the next 10 years with the electric power industry having to spend hundreds of billions of dollars to achieve this. So if we are going to fix what’s broken and breaking, why not use the best and most economic technologies available to align with what we need to do to lower the world’s carbon reduction targets (as per the Paris Agreement of 2015)?

Consider the fact that in 2017, 43% of the primary energy in the world was used to generate electricity. Over the coming decades, we are going to use an increasing amount of primary energy as the transport sector decouples from fossil fuels and moves to electric vehicles powered by the electricity grid. Currently, electric vehicles (EV) make up just 4% of the auto market in China, the world’s largest, however, the country is looking to mandate that 60% of auto sales are electric by 2035. We also know that the automotive industry has committed hundreds of billions to EVs, with Tesla leading the way in consumer adoption.

The 3% Threshold

Given that just over 2% of the world’s passenger vehicles were electric in 2019, this may seem implausible.

Kondratiev waves

According to Schumpeter, the Rule of Thumb in predicting Kondratiev waves of “creative destruction”, when a challenger captures just 3% of the market from incumbents, the incumbents’ sales often peak and begin to decline, singling an entire industry’s demise while another arises.

Having dug up and burned (in a matter of a couple of hundred years) coal, oil and natural gas — essentially the remains of life (itself produced over millennia) buried for hundreds of millions of years — we are now paying the price for fossil fuel-driven industrialized development. The true costs of that deal are being realized in the form of increasing CO2 levels (and other Greenhouse Gases), the bi-product of the burning fossil fuels, the ramifications of which are increasingly being felt by all of us.

In short, we have created a Carbon Bubble for ourselves and if we are to avoid the rapid disintegration of our societies — of which we’ve been given a taste by the coronavirus pandemic — we need a radical ‘about-face’ in how our economies function and how different levels of government and the private sector work with one another.

The question is why are we so reluctant to make the change?

Several years ago I attended a lecture (sponsored by Shell, interestingly enough) by Jørgen Randers, one of the famous co-authors of The Limits of Growth. This 1972 landmark study looked at looming threats to humankind, and in 2012, he provided an update on his team’s research with a Global Forecast for the Next Forty Years. In a summary article for this research, he laments ‘short-termism’ as the hindering factor in seeing a meaningful response to threats such as the climate crisis:

“If we just decided to do something, it could easily be done. The problem is not a lack of technology, nor the economic cost, but the way we have chosen to organise our societal decision-making.”

Beyond short-termism, we also need to support leaders who can be champions for the kind of heroics needed to make such profound socio-economic transformations. It requires the strength to regroup, the conviction to conjure collective strength, and an internal fortitude to be resilient in the face of disruption. We need to share our scientific findings and learnings so that we can prepare ourselves what looks to be a very bumpy ride ahead.

Going back to the Bonnie Tyler song, maybe the “he” she was looking for in a hero is a “she” (a la Jacinda Ardern, New Zealand’s current Prime Minister). Perhaps though, the hero is a “we”…us, working together to re-engineer the scaffolding of our societies and how we structure our economies. I believe this to be true, and hope it will happen as more young people step into positions of power and influence.

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* a term used by the Chinese since 2012 as part of their Five-Year Plans, a series of social and economic development initiatives issued over the past 67 years. China’s current Five-Year Plan ends this year.)

** From 2010-2015, China spent an annual average of 8.3% of its GDP on infrastructure.  During the same period, the US invested just 2.3% of GDP on infrastructure (Woetzel et al., Bridging Infrastructure Gaps). 

Fiction Speaking Truth

The actor, filmmaker, and composer Charlie Chaplin (who would have been 131 years old on Thursday) was born a few days before Adolph Hitler. I’ve only watched a few of Chaplin’s films, but the one that stands out for me is The Great Dictator (1940), which culminates in a powerful speech about humanity and how “we have lost the way”. It is a collection of words that I wish came from the mouth of a real politician rather than an actor playing a barber mistaken for a despot. It was Chaplin’s first film with dialogue and to me, it spoke a thousand truths, all pertinent to our current predicament.

Consider some of the brilliance of this speech, noting that the film was released about a year after England declared war and WWII was getting underway, with the U.S. not yet involved.

“We want to live by each other’s happiness — not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another.”

Chaplin believes in the goodness in everyone, and each individual’s propensity for love and care. The collective desire for happiness and freedom are innate to us all. And while he is speaking about the realities of war and how it depends on lies and deception to convince humans to kill each other, the abstraction of a pandemic is analogous. We face a common enemy that must be defeated through a shared effort. An effort of caring for one another and better appreciating the global connectedness of humanity.

“Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness.”

As many of us find ourselves shut inside and unable to work as we wish or are used to, Chaplin reminds us of the dangers of allowing our hearts to be superseded by the ‘logic’ of the mind. He warns us that the desire for economic progress — capitalist ideals — are a threat to our shared wellness. All smarts, profits, and technological achievements pale in comparison to the importance of selflessness and care. We are, after all, a social species. A people who have survived millennia because of our ability to collaborate, recognizing the interdependence on one another.

“To those who can hear me, I say — do not despair…Let us fight for a new world — a decent world that will give men a chance to work — that will give youth a future and old age a security. … a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness.”

Wow. This is a clarion call for a rethink of how many societies work. Chaplin dreams of equity, opportunity, as well as a social safety net. Imagine a world where governments, individuals, non-profits, and businesses did not step in to pick up those who have tripped, help to heal those who have fallen ill, or given a chance to individuals with little hope of succeeding against extraordinary odds? The numbers are daunting:

• Globally, the richest 10% own 82% of global wealth. The bottom half of wealth holders collectively account for less than 1% of total global wealth (The Global Wealth Report 2019 — Credit Suisse).

• The African-American infant mortality rate is twice the rate for white infants (The Century Foundation).

• In Canada, Indigenous people living on-reserve face Tuberculosis rates more than 40 times higher than among non-Indigenous people (Health Equity).

• The number of Americans without any health insurance rose to 27.5 million Americans (8.5% of the population) in 2018, even while the poverty rate was its lowest since 2001 (U.S. Census).

Yesterday, Lady Gaga helped orchestrate a global event called One World: Together at Home. It was an exceptional example of humanity coming together and supporting the work of the World Health Organization, a very necessary global body that needs more support and collaboration to defend our planet from pandemics like COVID-19. Thank you to all the entertainers and leaders who collaborated on this project.

The world is facing a challenging time, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be grateful for all we have. We must believe that love and hope will prevail as we combat the coronavirus. Let us all take heed of the words of Charlie Chaplin, an artist, a leader, and an activist who’s words ring true as much as they did 80 years ago.

Kindness is a boomerang and gratitude is contagious.

Photographed in Toronto by Andrew Fletcher Cole