Funny how one thing develops into the next.
A friend once recommended the movie called What The Bleep Do We Know. It was an introduction to a line of inquiry long overdue for someone who has enjoyed tangible benefits from New Age concepts like meditation.
That movie re-introduced me to the remarkable Joe Dispenza, a chiropractor who was triggered by a personal experience to apply his mind to overcome the physical. The more I read of his work, the deeper the research that followed.
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Among Dr Joe’s contributions is how learning new things creates new paths in the infinite potential that is our brains, also reaffirming how much there is still for to discover. The more we learn, the more we realise how little we actually know.
Ours is a complex world which we share with billions of other beings, all with the same plumbing and brain capacity as we possess. That’s massive untapped potential. If the reaction of others baffles us, we should first try to hear what they are telling us, rather than reject their opinions as foolish.
That reminder came home with some force a few years ago through the decision of the British public’s vote to leave the European Union; and for many, the equally surprising election of US President Donald Trump.
With hindsight, though, it’s all pretty logical.
The best explanation I have been exposed to refers to a story told in a book by French author Jean-Claude Guillebaud in which he draws on the distinctions Polynesians draw between mankind’s sedentary and adventurers.
They believe that each of us can be categorised as either a “Tree” or “Canoe” person.
The first group are content to remain where they were born and have no interest is knowing whether the grass is greener on another island. They happily live out their lives in the shade of the island’s trees.
Canoe people, on the other hand, are driven by a need to explore. For them, the best use of a tree is to turn it into a boat to transport them to distant places. There they can learn fresh ideas, which can be brought back to enhance their own community.
Polynesians respect both streams of humanity. They say a society which only has Tree People would see no fresh influences. With Canoe People only, there would be no more trees and the island become deserted.
For the past few decades, the world has witnessed the ascendancy of Canoe People, the champions of inter-connected societies where globalisation expands wealth and liberalisation of societies breeds greater tolerance for others.
I was intrigued to separately hear Canoe People described as “Davos Man” – the mythical creature personified by those who attend the annual meeting of the World Economic Forum in the Swiss town of that name.
As a veteran of the event, my experience of Davos is that it is the ultimate banquet of brain food. More than half a dozen simultaneous channels give participants access to the world’s brightest thinkers, most forward looking innovators and leaders of its progressive corporations.
The credo of the World Economic Forum is to make the world a better place. But critics see the annual meeting as a Canoe People jamboree where the global elite share and reinforce their ideas and beliefs in an Alpine echo-chamber.
I’ve seen enough of “Davos Man” to venture an assessment. And it’s clear that despite some valiant attempts to make the event more inclusive, Davos does remain the preserve of the fortunate.
While this highly educated group of global citizens thrives on trying to understand complexities of this speeded up world, recent events suggest they have also made a terrible error.
In his haste to evolve, Davos Man has forgotten to share. Both financially and in terms of knowledge.
It is in Davos that the latest research of inequality is publicised in the forlorn hope that the rich and powerful attendees will do something to address it. Davos is also the place where politicians are exposed to the reality of the rapidly changing world. I have seen quite a few return home with a very different mind-set.
But it is one thing to swap ideas on complex issues in a sealed off Swiss Alpine resort. Another thing entirely to engage at a level where it is required.
Not enough effort has been made to engage left-behind “Tree People”. The inevitable has happened. They are tired of having their trees turned into canoes. And are reclaiming their islands.
In the Brexit Referendum, Boris Johnson and Michael Gove tailored their message for Britain’s “Tree People” – evoking emotion around the cost of European bureaucracy, the perceived loss of UK sovereignty and the influx of immigrants.
Against that, the intellectual arguments on the wealth creation of free trade fell flat, so their opponents led by former Prime Minister David Cameron resorted to a self-destructive “Project Fear”.
US President Donald Trump followed an identical line, promising to be the representative of the forgotten masses who believe globalisation has gone too far, immigration is too free and the elite have subverted “We The (Tree) People”.
His opponent’s arrogance in branding Trump and his supporters as intellectual morons backfired spectacularly.
South Africa is witnessing a similar battle between the two branches of society. The challenge for “Canoe People” is to communicate clearly and swallow a dollop of humility. Failure to do so will condemn the country to repeat the mistakes of some continental neighbours. Not least Zimbabwe.
The stakes couldn’t be higher. But for the Canoe People of South Africa, the first step is to appreciate that one should never under-estimate the intelligence of the common folk; and know that provided they are well-informed, they will always do the right thing.
