#29 Coping with reality
...and a new podcast
It is hard to stay positive. The Trump election, a Dutch extreme right party in the government, Europe changing its course on sustainability, biodiversity COP16 not a big success, and climate COP29 almost a non-event—and this is only in recent weeks.
It is the time of alarming climate reports. Yesterday, the global carbon budget concluded that Global fossil CO2 emissions are expected to increase further in 2024 by 0.8%. The remaining carbon budget to limit global warming to 1.5°C, 1.7°C and 2°C above the 1850-1900 level has respectively been reduced to 65 GtC (235 GtCO2), 160 GtC (585 GtCO2) and 305 GtC (1110 GtCO2) from the beginning of 2025, equivalent to around 6, 14 and 27 years, assuming 2024 emissions levels. Today, the Carbon action tracker shows that, despite an escalating climate crisis marked by unprecedented wildfires, storms, floods, and droughts, their annual global temperature update shows global warming projections for 2100 are flatlining, with no improvement since 2021. The aggregate effect of current policies set the world toward 2.7°C of warming.
Another recent report on the state of our ecological systems could be more cheerful reading. Six of the nine identified ecosystems are in trouble, such as climate, nitrogen cycles, and land use. Tipping points—nonlinear changes that are irreversible and can permanently alter ecosystems—have already been reached or are dangerously close. The causes and solutions are known, yet the situation becomes more disastrous each time.
I thought I’d read something different. Perhaps this is an ecological Armageddon tunnel vision, and technology will be the solution. So, I dove into a study on the potential impacts of AI on our society. Or more accurately, as I learned, on Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). These are not the ChatGPT-like tools of today, but an overarching technological revolution is advancing faster than anticipated. Alarmingly fast. According to the author, the implications are that we might see substantial economic growth and development, but these developments could be highly disruptive to our current society. I’m left with the impression that those who understand AGI well are both excited by its potential and deeply worried about the consequences if it’s not carefully managed.
Still, those studies end with an attempt by the authors to insert a bit of optimism, a “we can do this” note. I often do the same—a perfunctory final paragraph highlighting what is going well, trying to encourage human ingenuity, pointing to the narrow, winding path forward. After all, we want to give people a sense of agency. Yes, we can!
But I’m not sure if that’s the right approach. I agree that despair gets us nowhere, but misplaced optimism without a realistic perspective might be even more pointless, if not dangerous. This hope, without evidence, that we can solve everything—what the tech optimists promote—is worse than the apathetic grumbling of disengaged cynics.
Of course, this optimism is a coping mechanism to avoid looking the beast in the eye. Green growth is one of those ideas: techno-fixes that promise to solve all problems without requiring us to change our behaviours. Emphasizing this type of optimism—sometimes well-founded, often not—only keeps societies on a collision course with reality and prevents necessary adjustments. We have an entire government that follows this method.
So, what then? I refuse to stand with the cynics. I would rather face the uncomfortable truth and do everything I can to encourage meaningful change. I don’t claim to know it all, but I do know that we need more fundamental changes in our economy than those we’re currently trying to implement.
Perhaps that’s the most hopeful strategy: acknowledging that it’s not easy to avert ecological disaster or to steer technological developments responsibly. It will involve sacrifices, and we must implement radical changes, including in our behaviour, by embracing restraint instead of maximization. In a way, I find it hopeful that no one has all the answers. It’s precisely through experimenting, trying things out, tinkering, and imagining that we might find a way forward—without guarantees.
This is also what we (my colleagues from Triodos Bank and I) do in our new weekly podcast, Money for Change (available on Spotify and Apple): we try to understand what is happening in the outside world, looking for positive perspectives (and the role of money). It is never black and white, but we try to make it green.
In the rest of this blog, I want to apply this notion of not knowing and finding perspectives to the US elections: I want to understand them, see their complexity, and give ideas on how to change things.
Why do we vote against our interests?
There’s an entire stack of analyses dissecting the U.S. election results and their implications, and I could add my take. But what’s the point? Nearly everything’s been written, pundits have had their say, and nothing’s been resolved.
These election results are part of a broader pattern, a creeping failure of democracy itself. And this goes beyond any single figure like Trump. It’s a phenomenon we’re seeing across the Western world, where extreme, populist, or even fascist-leaning right-wing movements are repeatedly claiming victory.
The tactics are virtually the same everywhere. Economic security promises are wielded like a magic wand to sway voters. Think of the recent emphasis on "existential security" in the Netherlands or the focus on inflation in the U.S. Alongside, fear is weaponized—fear of immigration, fear of an uncertain future, fear of loss. This narrative is particularly compelling not for an economically struggling underclass but for a middle class that, while comfortable, feels that certain comforts and entitlements are slipping away. The notion that “someone is taking something” resonates deeply, be it cheap flights, lifestyle conveniences, or meat at the barbecue. This sense of potential loss often outweighs the unknown benefits that could be gained for society or even the individual in the long term. The agenda across much of the wealthy West is clear: if you’re doing well, that won’t make you progressive.
This all rests on the illusion that such a status quo is feasible and sustainable—no real change is needed. But we repeatedly prove as a society that we don’t know how to handle nonlinear developments. During the COVID-19 crisis, we were caught off-guard by the exponential spread of the virus. We’re surprised by increasingly extreme weather events, yet continue treating these as isolated incidents rather than signs of impending climate tipping points. Ignoring these thresholds risks compounding extreme conditions. And so, the urgency for change is denied. Similarly, voters barely notice the erosion of education and government institutions. The destruction may seem subtle now, but the long-term consequences—the decimation of social capital and solidarity—will only become glaring years later.
Fear and short-term thinking are amplified in societies with profound social and economic inequalities. This sets the stage for demagogues to exploit public resentment, weakening democracy in the way that even Plato warned against. Once poor policies have widened the social divides, demagogues become all too easy to seize upon these splits.
But this accelerates further when corporate interests infiltrate democracy. Corporations with immense resources have never funded U.S. presidential candidates on such a scale. And here in the Netherlands, we now have an unabashed lobbying party in government. These entities have no interest in “solving” issues. The fewer effective policies there are, the better it is for them. The aim becomes clear: favour ineffective plans and reduce regulations rather than implement solutions contributing to a sustainable future. The influence of entrenched wealth and power poses a real threat to democratic processes.
So, we’re faced with Trump, Wilders, Meloni, and Orban. Though the details differ, there’s a common thread: policies that favour established, polluting interests at the expense of free expression, culture, migration, and knowledge. The figureheads change; the policies do not.
Voters see strong leadership and straightforward rhetoric. And even if they pay attention to the policies, they’re not overly troubled by the outcomes. After all, if those policies don’t yield positive results, they preserve the status quo at best. At worst, failed policies can be blamed on external factors—the migrants, the rule of law, and the European Union. It leaves my mind spinning. This isn’t just a democratic deficit; it’s a threat to the free West. And when the mind is short-circuited, finding a solution becomes all the more difficult.
What can we do?
The rise of divisive leaders and growing inequalities is placing democracy under siege. As Jason Stanley argues in his Project Syndicate article, the foundations of US democracy have been under strain due to deep economic disparities, creating fertile ground for authoritarian figures. Stanley reminds us that, historically, unchecked inequality has weakened democratic institutions and empowered demagogues. This issue isn't just a political debate — it's about our future.
Conversely, George Monbiot in The Guardian brings a stark environmental perspective, highlighting that specific political movements threaten democracy and our planet. For Monbiot, the rise of these agendas marks a crossroads where democracy and ecological survival are deeply intertwined. Also Monbiot things that it is not about the persons, but about the root causes:
Monstrous as he is, Trump is no outlier. He is the distillation of capitalist pseudo-democracy. His values, entirely extrinsic – fixated on prestige, status, image, fame, power and wealth – are the dominant values projected for years on to every screen and into every mind. His criminality is the system’s criminality. His abuse of women, of staff, of customers, of Muslims, of immigrants, of disabled people, of ecosystems, is the abuse the majority of the world’s people have suffered for centuries.
But with these complex issues, what can we, as a society, actually do? I try to give scattered ideas for actionable change beyond traditional solutions. And would you ask me how to implement it? I don’t know exactly. To repeat myself:
1. A Radical Push for Community-Led Infrastructure
Let’s rethink "infrastructure" to include more than just roads and bridges. Democracies are healthier when people are connected through shared spaces. Investing in community-based renewable energy projects, local food systems, and autonomous local media can decentralize power and give people ownership over critical parts of their lives. When communities hold resources, they’re better protected from the influence of big money.
2. Empower Digital Civic Engagement (Beyond Voting)
Democracy isn't a one-time event — it's a continuous practice. We need tech-driven platforms that allow people to participate in government every day, not just during elections. Imagine digital spaces where citizens can propose local laws, vote on budget allocations, and communicate directly with representatives. This kind of proactive, continuous civic engagement keeps democracy alive between election cycles.
3. Cross-Ideology Education Programs
Our societies are becoming polarized echo chambers. We need programs that bridge ideological divides through cross-community education to combat this. Imagine exchange programs within our countries that immerse people in different cultural and political environments. This can reduce polarization by fostering mutual understanding and respect across divides.
4. Ecological Self-Reliance at the Community Level
True environmental sustainability is under constant political threat, but communities can build resilience by creating local, ecologically sustainable systems that don’t depend on federal policy shifts. From community gardens and permaculture projects to local waste-to-energy initiatives, building local systems creates buffers against the volatility of national environmental policy.
5. Reframe Democracy in Media and Storytelling
We need stories that reshape how people view democracy and civic duty. Imagine TV series, films, and social media campaigns that portray heroes in everyday life who protect democratic values — teachers, community organizers, and environmental advocates. By showing people the power they hold, these narratives can inspire active participation and reinforce democratic norms.
6. Invest in Critical Thinking from an Early Age
A robust democracy relies on citizens who can critically assess information. It’s time to teach critical thinking, media literacy, and civic responsibility as core elements of school curricula. When people can identify misinformation and understand the importance of democratic norms, they are less likely to fall for extremist or authoritarian narratives.
I know it isn’t all easy—perhaps not even fully achievable—but facing reality, with all its complexities and imperfections, is essential. In the end, navigating these challenges isn’t just about ideal outcomes; it’s about finding a way to cope with the truth of our circumstances and making the best of what is within reach. Accepting this doesn’t mean settling for less but recognizing that progress often lies in the journey itself, in the small, practical steps we take to adapt, grow, and persevere. This work grounds us in reality, and it’s a commitment we can make each day.
Keep faith,
Hans