Economic Relativity

I am not an economist, nor do I aspire to be, though I have gained a begrudged appreciation in recent years for the dismal science.  Many of the people who are most positively influencing policy decisions in the realms I am interested in are economists, though it certainly says something of how we live that economics is the language one must speak to influence change and development.

Anyways, this post is something of an aside, and it comes from having changed my surroundings a number of times in the last few years.  What I have been reflecting on in relation to this has to do with monetary wealth, growth, and economic development.  Specifically, I have been looking at my bills now that I Iive in Canada again after having been gone for most of the last two years, living in the ‘developing’ world, mainly as a volunteer, in both Thailand and Bhutan, and trying to survive off a budget of about 600 to 700 dollars a month, for everything: rent, food, travel, and all other expenses (not including getting to and from those places, which is by far the most expensive part).  Now that I am living a similar lifestyle in Canada, my expenses are 4 or 5 times as much, and trust me, my apartment in Thimphu was probably the nicest place I’ll ever live.  Or at least it had the best view.

The view from the front door of our townhouse in Edmonton

Of course, 700 dollars a month is a whole lot for your average Bhutanese citizen.  And I am fortunate enough to make a lot more here.  But that’s not the point that I am trying to make.  What I’m getting at is, relatively, the lifestyle is not so different (international travel aside).  I mean, my quality of life was really just as good in Asia as it is here.  So when I say economic relativity, I’m pointing out that, relatively, the amount one makes is relative to where they are.  And I’m trying to emphasize the point that growth is not all that it is cracked up to be.  Growth is founded not only on this relativity (in the sense that we need to grow individually to keep up with the expanding expenses of a growing economy), but also that this growth rides on the back of debt, and in fact debt necessitates growth.  This creates an unhealthy spiral which forces us as a society to be so reliant on growth that we have often come to put it above almost everything else.  But, relatively, we often aren’t that much better off than people in ‘poor’ countries like Bhutan.  In fact, I have come to wonder who is worse off when you compare the poor of North America, people who can’t afford rent or proper food, and those of Asia, many of whom often still manage to get by on subsistence life-styles.  Try living a subsistence life-style in North America in the 21st century!

This is a big issue, but let’s get back to the point that growth is like a drug that we in the West are hooked on.  I’m certainly not the first to observe this (it’s pointed out quite clearly in this video here of Richard Heinberg who is explaining some of the findings of his book ‘The End of Growth’), but I still struggle with the fact that most of us still buy into the idea that somehow more growth means better lifestyles.  All kind of evidence points to the fact that, beyond a certain amount, more money does not equal more happiness.  And when we realize that more money can only come at the expense of finite eco-systems (the true source of all wealth), we have to acknowledge that in fact more growth may in fact be detrimental to our long-term health and happiness.  Not to mention that of our children, whose future is so obviously already being jeopardized by our high-growth, high-consumption, high-interest lifestyles.  I don’t think it’s too much to say that we are mortgaging our futures, and that this is not a good thing for those who have to pay the bills (which may just be us, as well as our children, if things keep going the way they are going).

So, again I come back to one of my main arguments in this blog: our system is broken, and apparently we have no idea how to fix it.  We are so deeply in debt that we cannot but continue to pile money into the furnace in order to keep the whole thing going.  And when governments can no longer pay their bills, as has already been happening, the system starts to break down.  Relatively, then, in the long run, we in the wealthy and western world may just be worse off than our poorer neighbours.  If you look at a place like Bhutan, where people still retain the knowledge of how to grow their own food, and live in (mostly) environmentally sound ways, if things do start to fall apart, they may indeed be better off than we are, as all those apocalyptic sci-fi tv and movies love to portray.  Anyways, I’m not trying to be a doom-sayer, I’m just making the argument that we ought to strive for real sustainability, and economies founded on as much on well-being, community, virtue, health and wholeness, beyond just money.  And not only might this help us help ourselves, but it could help create more of a balance for our ‘poorer’ global neighbours whose lifestyles our growth-obsession is threatening in far too many ways.

Resource Development: from Bhutan to Alberta

Drawing comparisons between Alberta and Bhutan is sure to be something of a stretch, but they are the two places I’ve now mostly lived over the last year, and so I think it is fair to attempt to do so.  Of course, there are certain evident similarities, but what I am interested in is something deeper, something that relates to the development patterns of these two places, and specifically their choices for (sustainable?) resource development.  Both places are now led by democratically chosen leaders, and both share an abundance of natural resources, particularly energy.  Both are fairly wild lands with sparse populations, and both even have mountains, though saying that they are geographically similar is certainly a stretch.  Other than these basic facts, there is little that jumps out as immediate and easy similarities.

Alberta or Bhutan?

We can, though, make something of a comparison between a province that is well established in developing its natural resources, and a country that is only just beginning to.  But with a new PM at the head of Bhutan’s planning, one who is seemingly more interested in dealing with unemployment, growth, infrastructure and education than happiness; and thus one who seems destined to lead the country deeper into the morass of development, modernity and environmental change, it seems that a comparison is not too hard to find.  Will Bhutan follow a path similar to that of Canada, and Alberta specifically, in relation to developing its resources?  This seems unlikely, yet the new PM does want to grow more food and build buildings, and these are places that Canada has plenty of experience.  This recent NY Times piece on the new PM shows just how different he is from his predecessors.  That it frames him as a hyper-competitive, tech-savvy, and more nationalist than internationalist is indicative of this:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/05/world/asia/index-of-happiness-bhutans-new-leader-prefers-more-concrete-goals.html?pagewanted=2&_r=0

That Bhutan is entering into a development phase according to a Western model seems increasingly evident.  While it holds to GNH to some degree, it also increasingly aims to grow its economy, and to me this is at odds with the philosophical roots of GNH, at least insofar as it is rooted in Bhutan’s Buddhist heritage, and in the Buddhist decrial of attachment, and promotion of a middle path.  I have argued this, to some extent, in two recent articles that are still in the process of being published.  Whether GNH can function effectively and in harmony with Western values and models is a major debate, and I personally doubt that it can.  Bhutan’s desire for growth and modern convenience will make it another nation that is part of the global dysfunctional family of nations, prey to its flaws, vices, and boons alike.  Not that GNH does not have a role to play, and I continue to hope it will.  But there is no doubt that already much is being lost.

Dam in Bhutan

In Canada, and in Alberta, we really don’t have the same rich cultural traditions, and certainly not the same environmental preservation legacy, that Bhutan does.  European traditions morphed as Europeans came to North America, and Indigenous traditions were profoundly and irrevocably changed in this process as well.  Settlers on this continent came specifically to exploit its rich resources, and this continues, even though some urban Canadians seem to want to bury their heads and deny it.  Alberta is quickly becoming ground zero for some of these debates, yet it seems all too easy for car-driving Torontonians and Vancouverites to criticize Alberta’s energy extraction policies.  Yet, in my mind, it is the system itself that is in crisis, a world system that has been too focused on growth at the expense of non-renewables and the environment for decades.  The same people who would criticize Alberta’s policies drive their cars to their office jobs to sell various services that are wholly dependent on cheap energy for production and distribution.  It is a conundrum that is so embedded in how we live and think that it is almost entirely impossible to see the whole complexity of.  That Bhutan is building more and more dams to sell energy to India, and meet its own increasing demands, is evidence that it too is now part of this intricate web of give and take, supply and demand; which, despite our best efforts, seems to have no end in sight.  Renewables may offer some help, but they still fan the fires on a system that voraciously demands more and more.  Addressing consumption, advertising, entertainment and many other unsustainable patterns and industries that we have developed is essential to cooling our demands, though obviously this would not be easy.

pipe-dreaming?

Small and relatively poor countries (at least in financial terms) like Bhutan have the most to lose.  They are disproportionately affected by climate change, and have less access to the global trade and markets that are a foundation of this system.  Alberta, too, is landlocked like Bhutan, and is dealing with how to move its products to the sea and overland markets, and these are complex issues as well.  So, perhaps, drawing similarities between the two isn’t too much of a stretch after all.  Both aim to sell their rich energy resources to large and powerful neighbours, and take advantage of their reliance on this energy, and on a broken system that is being fixed far too slowly for the citizens of these places who only hope that these things can be meaningfully addressed in time for some of their culture and natural environments to be preserved in meaningful and lasting ways.  The tides of globalization may be against them, but the choices they make and the policies they live by can surely help guide those tides in positive directions, as long as they remain manageable and malleable, and not so overwhelmingly large as to swallow them entirely.

From Happiness to ... Happiness ?

Back in my home of Canada now, Bhutan in many ways seems like a dream.  It’s still hard to believe such a place can still exist, even after seven months there.  The inspirations that arose in me there continue, and I pray they last.  And I still hope that a place like that can hold true to its vision, to its own inspirations, and not succumb to too many of the global forces it faces that are already attempting to pressure it into submission.

For myself, I have inevitably had to succumb to a certain extent.  I have taken a job with the Government of Alberta, in their International and Intergovernmental Relations Ministry, in a research and policy position.  The job is a great fit for me, and I know their HR department is doing their job, yet I did have to spend some time equivocating and thinking deeply about morality and intentions before accepting the position.  But after seeing how the government there is aiming to be much more responsible globally, especially in relation to sustainability and international leadership (something that our federal government sorely lacks, even though the great Canadian tradition in this regard continues in many ways), and realizing that change is made from within and not from the sidelines, I have surrendered to this position, and see it as a great opportunity to grow, learn, and hopefully, thrive.  So I am packing my bags for Edmonton, and am excited for something different, a cold, clear and crisp winter, and new challenges and opportunities.

I was surprised to observe, when my wife recently discovered, that one of the global specialists about the economics of happiness (in fact, this is the very name of his book) calls Edmonton home, and more specifically, the Strathcona neighbourhood where we aim to live.  Both my wife and I lived in Edmonton as young teenagers, know this area well, and have fond memories of it.  While it has further gentrified, it is also home to many interesting people and initiatives, from farmer’s markets to slow food, to happiness and wellbeing advising, to parks and green space along the river.  I’m hoping we soon find somewhere nice to live and get reacquainted with the area, from a more intimate perspective.  The author just mentioned famously declined a move to California for an offer to lead a happiness think-tank in order to stay in Edmonton, and I’m sure he had good reasons.  Hopefully we will come to understand these.

The city of Edmonton has also taken to measuring its wellbeing, according to the very progressive Genuine Wellbeing Index, as well as the Genuine Progress Indicators, which seeks to account for the real economy of a place, including social and natural capital in addition to economic, and therefore accounting for sustainability and a more long-term vision.  That these are being measured makes me quite happy already, and it’s also positive to note that Genuine Well-being is on the rise in Edmonton, after a decline from 1985 to 1998 by about 15%, it has now risen again to 95% of early 1980s levels (which were apparently very happy times in Edmonton .. and that’s when I first lived there.  I don’t think there is any causal relationship between Oilers success, though it seems there is some correlation there indeed.  You can’t escape hockey madness in Canada, as much as I try).  

Anyways, these are positive signs for me, and I know that my work place downtown will be a short transit or bike ride away from where we will likely be living, and historic Strathcona is a very green and walking-friendly area.  Apparently Edmonton also has more park-land than any other city in Canada, and Strathcona has numerous parks, as well as the river nearby which is surrounded by green-space.  So, all in all, we are feeling good about the move, and hoping to settle in before it gets too cold.  But also eagerly awaiting the cool, clear nights with many stars, Northern lights, and comfortable evenings in our new home, wherever that may be.

The Meaning of Mountain Climbing

One of my favorite writers, Marco Pallis, endeavoured to place himself in the great lineage of British mountain climbers in the early 20^th century through scaling some of the most challenging Himalayan peaks.  But when Pallis reach Tibet, he seemed to lose interest in climbing, his attention was distracted.  Or, perhaps it is more appropriate to say that his attention was focused.  Pallis was drawn to the still very living Vajrayana tradition he found there, and eventually became a Buddhist in the Tibetan tradition, studying with various masters, and even being recognized as part of a tulku lineage, that is, someone who bears within them the ‘incarnation’ of a previous life, or at least the specific energy of a previous life.  A Tibetan master who met Pallis recognized this incarnation within him.

This is something of a simplification, to be sure.  Pallis wrote a remarkable book called ‘The Way and the Mountain’ to describe this transformation.  It is a profound text that most everyone should read.  It won’t make you want to climb Mt. Everest, but might want to make you tackle the Everest within.

A good friend of mine recently sent me some photos from a mountain climbing trip.  They looked amazing, but I soon realized, ‘this may in fact be illegal in Bhutan.’  This was a fairly profound realization for me.  It’s not because the Bhutanese consider mountains sacred.  It’s because the Bhutanese consider ALL things sacred.  So they don’t let people go too near those things that are the most sacred, and thus they don’t allow anyone to climb the highest peaks.  This is a remarkable conservation paradigm for me, and I hope it lasts.

 

In the West we may still consider some things sacred, but not all.  To me, this a futile, if not impossible to hold, paradigm.  If not everything is sacred, then nothing is.  There is no separation.  So instead of respecting nature, we set out to conquer it.  It’s not a big leap for me to make between this, and the destruction of our natural environment that proceeds apace, and for which science only provides fleeting and superficial solutions.

I’m also currently reading Wendell Berry’s classic ‘The Unsettling of America’.  Now there is a conservationist, and also an agriculturalist.  He sees all things as sacred, so can overcome the illusory duality: sacred vs. profane.  He notes that ‘wilderness’ is not something humans are separate from, that we can’t look at it as distinct.  We are part of it, and cannot preserve it without playing a role within it.  He notes that ‘We need what other ages would have called sacred groves.  We need groves, anyhow, that we would treat as if they were sacred-in order, perhaps, to perceive their sanctity.’ (p.30)  I think his point is that, if we don't account for the sanctity of nature, we no longer perceive it at all.  Thus, the Bhutanese outlaw mountain climbing to ensure that the sanctity of mountains is remembered.  Otherwise, we risk forgetting.  I think our culture of climbing to the top of mountains for the sake of it is proof of this.  The Zen Buddhists say, when you get to the top of the mountain, keep on climbing.  But we no longer know how to do this, so we seek climb one mountain and immediately set out to find another mountain to climb, forgetting where the ultimate Peak really is.

I am sadly no longer in Bhutan, my contract ended, my visa expired, and I was very sad to leave.  Truly it will be an impossible experience to replicate, and I doubt I will ever see a place so special again on this earthly plane (even if I return to Bhutan, since it is already changing so much everyday).  I am in Thailand now, which strikes something of a balance between maintaining a sense of the sacred, and giving in to the frivolity of the modern world.  Unfortunately, it is a balance that will always tip further and further towards the demands, assumptions, and ideologies of modernity, and Thailand is already following the way of the West in this regard, as Bhutan likely will far too quickly.  The juggernaut of globalization thunders on leaving no sacred groves in its wake.  Hopefully at least a few of the mountain peaks will be preserved, Deo Volente.

Things I will miss about Bhutan

As I am likely leaving Bhutan in a few weeks, after an amazing six months here, here is a little tribute to this beautiful place, some of my favorite things here:

-     Horses parked in my apartment parking lot rather than cars.

-     Cheese balls as currency second only to Ngultrum.

-     So many ways to say OK: ‘laso’, ‘tuptup’, ‘yaya’ ‘laso las’ or just ‘la’.

-     Cow traffic that causes more traffic jams than car traffic.

-     Walking everywhere.

-     One lane highway: the only highway.

-      30 km/hour speed limit: highways or roads, car or horse.

-     Actually enjoying instant coffee, because it’s that or nothing.

-     The scent of marijuana on the breeze from the abundance of ‘weeds’ around.

-     Gardens everywhere.

-     One kind of restaurant: Bhutanese, with some combination of Indian or Chinese dishes, and maybe Korean, Thai or Japanese if you are lucky.

-     Dogs, dogs, and more dogs.  On the sidewalk.  On the side of the road.  Sleeping in the middle of the road.  Literally everywhere.  Only waking up to eat or bark at night.

-     Only Bhutanese movies to choose from.  Suck it, Hollywood.

-     No public advertising!

-     Little to no corporate presence, aside from Coca-Cola bottles.

-     Gho and kira.

-     Smiling kids who can’t resist saying ‘hi’, and think your response is hilarious, no matter what you say.

-     Beautiful old people who’ve yet to step out of the middle ages (and hopefully never will).

-     Excitement at finding imported foods like coconut, peanut butter, corn chips.

-     The view from my apartment over Thimphu.

-     Monasteries on every mountain ridge.

-     Buddhas and Boddhisattvas everywhere, as well as the 8 auspicious symbols, and the 4 protector animals.  Spiritual safety.
-   A monarchy that people still live with the whole of their heart.

-     Living traditional art and cultural traditions: very little modern, secular, ego art.

-     Hiking the Himalaya, out my front doorstep.

-     Astounding birds and butterflies.

-     Being called ‘mister’, ‘sir’, or ‘uncle’ by every child (and many adults) I meet.