Stop talking about the knowledge economy. Start building a wisdom economy.
We know we're in the middle of seismic shifts in the way the world operates. We don't know where they'll end up, or where any of us will be when the dust settles, if it ever does. Will we have a job? A pension? A home? Someone to care for us in old age?
We do know, though, that we'll need to be more resilient, more adaptable, and more responsible to face the future. My particular concern is to join with those who are helping to grow fairer and more civilised communities and better places in which community can develop.
Part of that process is a series of conversations with others who are trying, in different ways, to do the same. On Friday I was in London at a discussion organised by the regeneration agency Renaisi on 'new approaches to regeneration'.
Casting its shadow over the discussion was the state of the economy. That morning The Independent reported the first effects of the second wave of recession: 20,000 local authority workers about to lose their jobs. There will almost certainly be many more as the next government seeks to cut the public deficit.
One particular comment, out of many insightful and heartfelt observations, struck me. One of the participants had grown up in Africa. We don't know how well-resourced we are in the UK, she pointed out - even if you cut all our wealth and budgets by 20%, it's still far more than the majority of the world has.
Over the last decade the political axiom has been that to gain competitive advantage in a globalised economy, the UK must increase its knowledge and skills. The knowledge economy - popularised by Charles Leadbeater's Living on Thin Air and Richard Florida's The Rise of the Creative Class - was one in which creative and digital industries would thrive, new technologies and business opportunities would flow from our world-class research institutions, and we would think our way to success. Implicit in that view was that the dirty work of making things would be outsourced to those lesser souls in China and Malaysia and Turkey and anywhere else without our advantages. The Western political hegemony may have peaked, but long live the Western intellectual hegemony.
And so it came to pass - almost. Except that China and India and the rest turned out not just to be good at making things cheaply, but just as good as us at thinking and research and creating things. And that will continue. Meanwhile, the increasing costs of fuel extraction, transport and rising aspirations in manufacturing countries will have a knock-on effect on the cost of stuff we no longer produce ourselves.
With limited capacity to make things and no obvious reason why our thinking should be considered superior to others', the knowledge economy suddenly looks less like Shangri-La and more like a cul-de-sac.
Governments and public agencies will take a while to wake up to this. They're still pursuing the same old strategies, with documents like Building Britain's Future and Digital Britain. The rest of us need to be smarter, and wiser.
Increasingly, the conversations I'm having about the future of regeneration home in on values: not just what do we want to have, but what do we think is worth having?
This is where the wisdom economy comes in.
The knowledge economy always wants more. The wisdom economy understands the concept of 'enough'. Wisdom asks what profit there is in gaining the world and losing our soul. It understands that a person's life doesn't consist in an abundance of possessions. Wisdom understands prosperity as a state of sufficiency; knowledge strains for the next big idea and tramples what stands in the way.
The knowledge economy demands qualifications. The wisdom economy insists on qualities. Qualifications can be excellent, but they do not make you a better worker or even a better thinker. From 2012 every nurse in England will have to have a degree. That will recognise their training and hard work, but won't create empathy with their patients. I have interviewed people with postgraduate qualifications who cannot spell and have poor people skills. A wisdom economy will recruit for attitude as well as aptitude.
The knowledge economy is technological. The wisdom economy is human. The knowledge economy is quick to see technical fixes and tends to assume we're only one invention away from the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The wisdom economy sees technology as a tool and is more interested in how it is deployed. It seeks to test technology for its contribution to human wellbeing, rather than taking it as a given that technology will add to human wellbeing.
The knowledge economy is competitive. The wisdom economy is collaborative. The knowledge economy assumes that if we can know that bit more than others, we will get what they have or keep them from getting what we have. It believes in dog eat dog. The wisdom economy says dogs do better when they hunt in packs. It sees knowledge as something to be shared and built collaboratively. It is highly suspicious of the intellectual property industry and the crowd of litigators and branding experts who hang on its coat-tails. Where the knowledge economy is amoral - your disadvantage is of no concern as long as I am succeeding - the wisdom economy accepts at a profound level that your disadvantage is my problem.
The knowledge economy is political. It is a Big Idea that governments can wave around in the hope that they've captured a zeitgeist. It is sexy and attracts 'thought leaders' and corporate egotists who want to wield power and influence. The wisdom economy is personal. It begins with an understanding of self and of others: that I do not succeed by gaining your envy, but by winning your respect.
We do know, though, that we'll need to be more resilient, more adaptable, and more responsible to face the future. My particular concern is to join with those who are helping to grow fairer and more civilised communities and better places in which community can develop.
Part of that process is a series of conversations with others who are trying, in different ways, to do the same. On Friday I was in London at a discussion organised by the regeneration agency Renaisi on 'new approaches to regeneration'.
Casting its shadow over the discussion was the state of the economy. That morning The Independent reported the first effects of the second wave of recession: 20,000 local authority workers about to lose their jobs. There will almost certainly be many more as the next government seeks to cut the public deficit.
One particular comment, out of many insightful and heartfelt observations, struck me. One of the participants had grown up in Africa. We don't know how well-resourced we are in the UK, she pointed out - even if you cut all our wealth and budgets by 20%, it's still far more than the majority of the world has.
Over the last decade the political axiom has been that to gain competitive advantage in a globalised economy, the UK must increase its knowledge and skills. The knowledge economy - popularised by Charles Leadbeater's Living on Thin Air and Richard Florida's The Rise of the Creative Class - was one in which creative and digital industries would thrive, new technologies and business opportunities would flow from our world-class research institutions, and we would think our way to success. Implicit in that view was that the dirty work of making things would be outsourced to those lesser souls in China and Malaysia and Turkey and anywhere else without our advantages. The Western political hegemony may have peaked, but long live the Western intellectual hegemony.
And so it came to pass - almost. Except that China and India and the rest turned out not just to be good at making things cheaply, but just as good as us at thinking and research and creating things. And that will continue. Meanwhile, the increasing costs of fuel extraction, transport and rising aspirations in manufacturing countries will have a knock-on effect on the cost of stuff we no longer produce ourselves.
With limited capacity to make things and no obvious reason why our thinking should be considered superior to others', the knowledge economy suddenly looks less like Shangri-La and more like a cul-de-sac.
Governments and public agencies will take a while to wake up to this. They're still pursuing the same old strategies, with documents like Building Britain's Future and Digital Britain. The rest of us need to be smarter, and wiser.
Increasingly, the conversations I'm having about the future of regeneration home in on values: not just what do we want to have, but what do we think is worth having?
This is where the wisdom economy comes in.
The knowledge economy always wants more. The wisdom economy understands the concept of 'enough'. Wisdom asks what profit there is in gaining the world and losing our soul. It understands that a person's life doesn't consist in an abundance of possessions. Wisdom understands prosperity as a state of sufficiency; knowledge strains for the next big idea and tramples what stands in the way.
The knowledge economy demands qualifications. The wisdom economy insists on qualities. Qualifications can be excellent, but they do not make you a better worker or even a better thinker. From 2012 every nurse in England will have to have a degree. That will recognise their training and hard work, but won't create empathy with their patients. I have interviewed people with postgraduate qualifications who cannot spell and have poor people skills. A wisdom economy will recruit for attitude as well as aptitude.
The knowledge economy is technological. The wisdom economy is human. The knowledge economy is quick to see technical fixes and tends to assume we're only one invention away from the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The wisdom economy sees technology as a tool and is more interested in how it is deployed. It seeks to test technology for its contribution to human wellbeing, rather than taking it as a given that technology will add to human wellbeing.
The knowledge economy is competitive. The wisdom economy is collaborative. The knowledge economy assumes that if we can know that bit more than others, we will get what they have or keep them from getting what we have. It believes in dog eat dog. The wisdom economy says dogs do better when they hunt in packs. It sees knowledge as something to be shared and built collaboratively. It is highly suspicious of the intellectual property industry and the crowd of litigators and branding experts who hang on its coat-tails. Where the knowledge economy is amoral - your disadvantage is of no concern as long as I am succeeding - the wisdom economy accepts at a profound level that your disadvantage is my problem.
The knowledge economy is political. It is a Big Idea that governments can wave around in the hope that they've captured a zeitgeist. It is sexy and attracts 'thought leaders' and corporate egotists who want to wield power and influence. The wisdom economy is personal. It begins with an understanding of self and of others: that I do not succeed by gaining your envy, but by winning your respect.