Living Democracy, Feeding Hope

by Frances Moore Lappé, Aug 20, 2023 In the 1950s “communist” was the slur of choice to attack those focused on equity, particularly for people of color. (Photo Credit: Danny Burke/Unsplash) Originally Published on Common Dreams , Aug 20, 2023 Over half of Republicans agree that “fighting woke ideology in our schools and businesses” is more important than protecting Social Security and Medicare, finds a recent Wall Street Journal survey . “Florida is where woke comes to die,” brags the state’s governor Ron DeSantis , “woke” is “basically a war on the truth.” Under the banner of anti-woke, he enacted sweeping limitations on what can be taught in public schools, a six-week abortion ban, and America’s cruelest anti-trans policies. For DeSantis, the “woke” are “cultural Marxists” who are to blame for what’s broken in America. We’ve endured a long history of labels that mislead, divide, and hinder us. So, let’s stop the name calling, listen to the actual agenda of those with whom we think we differ, and engage in real conversation. Merriam-Webster defines “woke” first as being “aware of and actively attentive to important societal facts and issues (especially issues of racial and social justice).” The term took off in 2014 after Michael Brown was shot in Ferguson, Missouri, and then came to be used in the Black Lives Matter movement. Today, “woke” is a sweeping, ill-defined insult making it harder to find common ground essential to reforms benefiting most Americans, such as lifting the minimum wage. For those who lived through the 1950s it rings painful bells. Back then, “communist” was the slur of choice to attack those focused on equity, particularly for people of color. The McCarthy-era witch hunt caused as many as 12,000 people to lose their jobs. Growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, in the early ’50s my parents helped found the first Unitarian church and to integrate it. The FBI took notice. I’ll never forget an agent knocking on our door as part of the agency’s investigation of our church. The inquiry was scary enough to shrink our membership. It didn’t shut us down but did lead to several members being fired from their jobs. As a kid, I thought that we were suspect in the eyes of the FBI because Unitarians were seen as atheists, and atheism was associated with communism. Only recently did I learn my storyline was wrong. With access to church archives, I discovered a letter from someone in our congregation to J. Edgar Hoover complaining that a member of our church had been questioned by two FBI agents at his home. The letter stated that “Among other questions, this man was asked what he thought of racial equality for Negroes, would he marry a Negro, and whether or not he attended the Unitarian Church.” He added: “I think you will agree these questions are completely out of line.” Hoover’s response? “No questions were asked by representatives of this Bureau such as are alleged in your letter.” At about the same time I uncovered these documents, someone in my extended family shared with me his related experience with the FBI. During the Korean War, the army had called him to serve. But when the recruiter learned he was a member of the NAACP, my relative was told that he was no longer qualified because that affiliation meant he was likely a communist. Today, “woke” as a put down is similarly worrying. The term is derived from African American Vernacular English, meaning to be “alert to racial prejudice and discrimination.” It could have become a rallying cry for a better America. Especially now, as the Supreme Court has rejected affirmative action, facing racism’s deep and painful harm becomes even more urgent. We’ve endured a long history of labels that mislead, divide, and hinder us. So, let’s stop the name calling, listen to the actual agenda of those with whom we think we differ, and engage in real conversation. We might discover common ground on which we can all advance. We would then be able to tackle the long-standing, anti-democratic economic and political rules that generate income inequality more extreme than in 109 countries—including all of the Western, industrial world—and wealth so tightly held that the top 1% control almost as much as the bottom 90%. Such unequal economic power harms us all , as it is linked to poorer health and education, greater violence, and other social ills. Its effects also infuse our political lives , twisting policies to further favor the few and undermining democracy itself. Together we could in fact wake up to what truly harms us and thus become eager to join hands for the benefit of all.

by Frances Moore Lappé, November 7, 2023 (photo credit: Fred Moon/Unsplash) Originally published in The Fulcrum , November 7, 2023 We gather in a historic moment, one filled with terrifying threats from climate chaos to intra-state conflict—and even greater possibilities. But no problem. If we identify the root cause, the most intractable problems can be solved. So…let us identify the tap roots of today’s distress. First is the failure of so many societies, including many democracies, to meet the deepest human needs. And what are these needs? At least three: personal power, meaning larger than oneself, and connection with others. These needs run so deep that when not met constructively, humans often resort to domination and blaming. So, what have we learned throughout history about the conditions proven to meet these needs positively? Three conditions stand out: ● The wide dispersion of power so that no one remains powerless. ● Transparency in decision making. ● A culture of mutual accountability in which it’s understood that, since we are all connected, we are all responsible. And what do these conditions add up to? Democracy. Thus, my big claim: Democracy is the only form of governance positively aligned with our nature. Yet, for 17 years democracy—measured in political rights and civil liberties - has been deteriorating worldwide. Fortunately, last year saw the narrowest decline. How do we best respond to democracy’s urgent call? For one, we make clear that democracy is not a dull duty. It is a thrilling way of life. It isn’t simply a particular set of rules. It is a way of life meeting essential needs. Today, many Americans feel down about our country. Satisfaction with our government has reached a new low. Americans also worry about a weakening economy, polarization, and our widening wealth gap. The solutions require that we flip pessimism’s paralysis into fuel for action . Freedom House, founded by Eleanor Roosevelt, ranks our democracy 60th. We could think: Whoa, all those nations are doing better, so there’s proof we can, too! We can translate a negative ranking into evidence for hope. However, sustaining essential hope demands a courageous democracy movement. In 2021, remember the success in the House passing the omnibus For the People Act before it died in the Senate. Progress requires building awareness and energy. We can all spread the word that, yes, the power of money in our election is undermining democracy. However, key states and cities are showing us the way by embracing public financing, including the long-running programs in New York City, Arizona, and Connecticut to newer ones in the District of Columbia and Denver. Two stories I love: Maine’s clean election law enabled waitress Deborah Simpson to gain office and ultimately chair the House judiciary committee and later allowed Chloe Maxmin, —in her twenties,— to make it into the Maine Senate where she has spearheaded key environmental legislation. Plus, in Los Angeles and New York City small donors provide most candidate funds; and in the last decade a dozen jurisdictions have launched or strengthened programs. And gerrymandering? In Michigan, young Katie Fahey—starting with one social media post about gerrymandering in 2016—triggered a grassroots campaign that made Michigan a national leader in tackling gerrymandering. Each of us can spread the news and build Americans’ commitment to defang Super Pacs. Success requires funding transparency, fair districting, automatic-voter registration, as well as public financing. Reforms like these ultimately awaken enough Americans to enable reversing Citizens United. My point is simple. We can do this . Proof is plentiful, both here and abroad. But perhaps the message I most want to leave with you is this: Our journey for democracy is not a burdensome duty. It is a life enhancing journey. It’s not a “you should” but a “we can.” And in this spirit, democracy does require one thing above all-- courage : For to believe others can change, we must experience ourselves changing. And that means doing what we thought we could not do. So, I keep in sight the wise advice of Eleanor Roosevelt: “Do one thing every day that scares you.” So, as we take risks democracy let us reconceive our pounding hearts as our own inner applause cheering us on! Resources: https://reliefweb.int/report/world/conflict-trends-global-overview-1946-2022 https://freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world/2023/marking-50-years https://news.gallup.com/poll/165371/americans-satisfaction-gov-drops-new-low.aspx https://freedomhouse.org/countries/freedom-world/scores?sort=desc&order=Total%20Score%20and%20Status https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/analysis-opinion/public-campaign-financing-bright-spot-shadow-citizens-united ; https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/for-2017-0015/html?lang=de https://michiganadvance.com/2023/10/16/michigan-earns-high-marks-on-redistricting-in-new-report-with-room-for-improvement/

By Frances Moore Lappé, February 6, 2023 Is it possible to turn the tide toward truthful exchange? Yes, if we take immediate responsibility as well as carefully embrace long-term strategies Former U.S. President Donald Trump introduces Florida Governor Ron DeSantis during a homecoming campaign rally at the BB&T Center on November 26, 2019 in Sunrise, Florida. (Photo by Joe Raedle/Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams, Feb 6, 2023 So, Donald Trump is back on social media. What a perfect moment to grapple with our nation's crisis of trust. A 2022 Gallup poll found that less than 30 percent of us have "a great deal (or quite a lot) of confidence in U.S. institutions," and that's "as low as it has ever been." Among 16 institutions tested, 11 registered decline. And the steepest drop? Trust in the presidency "fell off a cliff," reported CNN . Eight in 10 of us believe our democracy is threatened. On trust in government, we now rank 26th worldwide between Greece and Hungary. Such findings are ominous, for the very bedrock of democracy is trust—including trust that political and economic rules are fair so that our voices are heard. And it's hard to imagine many of us feel heard when wealth and income continue gushing to the top, generating economic inequality roughly on par with Haiti's and more extreme than in 121 countries. Plus, most of us express reluctance to share our views for fear of offending others. How many among us would choose this path? At the same time we experience concentrated private power undermining our wellbeing, as, for example, fossil fuel giants use their vast profits to thwart action on our climate emergency. All the above is made more threatening by the spreading disinformation disease. It pits citizens against each other and distracts us from focusing on underlying economic unfairness and undemocratic rules, including those suppressing the vote. "Fake news" has been harming people for centuries, scholars tell us. But in today's instant-info world, disinformation—a nice word for "lies"—is literally killing us. Four in ten Americans still believe the 2020 "stolen election" lie that triggered an unprecedented insurrection attempt and death. If you are among this 40 percent, check out reporting by the Heritage Foundation . Considered a conservative center, it has long tracked voter fraud, and our analysis of its data reveals no significant problem. Our legal system typically limits "freedom of speech" only in cases of libel and defamation—regardless of potential for wider social harm. If this interpretation holds, it is frightening: In November, for example, California lawyers defending doctors "spreading false information about Covid-19 vaccines and treatments" argued their clients' free speech rights were being violated. Around the world, however, a range of democratic nations are taking a nuanced, citizen-driven approach to combat disinformation. To guard their citizens' free speech rights as well as protect against dangerous lies, some are creating transparent public processes, which evolve in response to experience. In Crisis of Trust: How Can Democracies Protect Against Dangerous Lies , a report just released by Cambridge-based Small Planet Institute, we share highlights of five national efforts—New Zealand, Australia, Germany, France, and Sweden. New Zealand's approach seems especially useful, as it has been evolving over decades. Note that in the quality of its democracy the country ranks fourth worldwide, according to Freedom House , founded by Eleanor Roosevelt and colleagues in 1941. And the US? We come in a sad 62nd. Since 1989 the New Zealand Broadcast Standards Authority (BSA) has offered a transparent, public platform in which citizens can flag what they believe to be dangerous disinformation. Hate speech is also covered, as the country strives to protect the interests of its Māori people. An independent board then investigates. If it deems the material both false and harmful, the offending media must be removed or corrected. Complaints and decisions are visible to all on the BSA website. Overall, the agency appears to exercise caution, requiring removal or correction in response to about 7 percent of complaints. An example of the BSA's action? A daytime entertainment program airing false Covid information was required to provide correct information in the same program at a similar time of day. Initiatives of several highly ranked democracies to counter disinformation reflect alarm not primarily about a single lie that could cause great harm—although our own "stolen election" lie certainly qualifies. Rather, they focus on the drip, drip, drip of false messages in our media-saturated lives. So, is it possible to turn the tide toward truthful exchange? Yes, if we take immediate responsibility as well as carefully embrace long-term strategies. We can each resist directly; and in taking on this challenge the Global Disinformation Index is a helpful tool. As a society we can learn from specific strategies of nations, such as those mentioned above, protecting freedom-of-speech while creating guardrails against disinformation's poison. Long-term solutions, however, require our building a more accountable democracy generating greater economic and political equity so that Americans feel trust in government is warranted and are less susceptible to lies. May the shock of registering our true standing, as well as inspiration and practical lessons from highly regarded democracies, motivate courageous action here.

By Frances Moore Lappé and Max Boland / March 5, 2022 Whether it is a brutal dictator or the climate crisis that has our attention, only with a democracy do we feel empowered to confront the problems of our time. Crowds of protestors are seen during a demonstration in support of Ukraine in Trafalgar Square on February 27, 2022 in London, England. Russia's large-scale invasion of Ukraine has killed scores and prompted a wave of protests across Europe. (Photo: Leon Neal/Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams, March 5, 2022 The attack on Ukraine focuses the mind on a most critical question for humanity: In our fast-changing world, what is democracy's future? Certainly, a strong argument can be made that democratic governance is more important than ever as humanity faces at least two unprecedented challenges: the existential threats of the global climate crisis and a global pandemic. Attacks on civil and human rights continue as well—challenges that can only be met with democratic governance. Why? Autocracy in all its forms has proven to be fixed on the immediate well-being of the minority in power, with utter disregard to the welfare of the citizenry and a healthy environment. Of course, there are exceptions. China is hardly democratic, yet its per capita contribution to greenhouse gas emissions is less than half that of the United States. This sad fact brings home not the failure of democracy but rather the limits of America's comprised democracy, undercut by the influence of private power —in this case the fossil fuel industry. Nonetheless, democracy is not just a "good" thing. Only democracy holds the promise of accountability to the whole required to meet these threats. And I would go even further. Beyond our physical survival needs, humans have deep psychological needs—for a sense of agency, meaning, and connection with others in common purpose. If democratic polities are not meeting these needs positively, humans tend to grasp for other, destructive ways to meet them. Too often that means seeking meaning, power, and connection through scapegoating others, entrenching ourselves in groups that amplify our differences. The frightening truth is that worldwide, the "number of countries moving in an authoritarian direction in 2020 outnumbered those going in a democratic direction," observes Sweden-based Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance. "The pandemic has prolonged this existing negative trend into a five-year stretch…the longest such period since the start of the third wave of democratization in the 1970s." And make no mistake: the United States is included among the backsliders. So, what does our struggle with democracy at home have to do with Russia's violent invasion of Ukraine? Democracy's erosion, of which we are part, no doubt gives autocrats greater confidence that they won't be stopped. But note well: Hope has power. Science tells us that hope organizes our brains toward solutions. It emboldens us to take even risky action. And how do we stoke the power of hope? By taking action. For how can we believe the world could change—for the better—if we don't experience ourselves changing? And how do we change ourselves? By stepping up to protect our communities and our deepest values. Ukraine is itself a "fledgling democracy, with significant growing pains, largely the result of Russian pressure and interference in its affairs. It is certainly not a tyranny," opines Washington Post's Glenn Kessler. Note that it ranks above Mexico, for example, as well as Georgia, Armenia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina in Freedom House scores of democracy. Living in a flawed, yet growing democracy, the Ukrainian people have had a taste of how democracy can meet their needs. Surely, this explains why they are mounting such strong resistance against a brutal Russian assault. They are not fighting only for their homeland, but for the hope and promises that only democracy can offer. How can we Americans be most helpful? Certainly, by making Russia pay an untenable price for its aggression but also by strengthening our own democracy. As we do so, we will have the resolve to stand up to dictators, address the climate crisis, squash the pandemic, and solve the other crucial problems of our time. Unlike Putin's threat, many of the troubles before us do not have a face. They are not as easily identified but they are oh-so important. We risk allowing our own democracy to slowly descend into darkness if we turn a blind eye to these issues. Fortunately, a citizens' movement for democracy is growing in the United States: Citizens in every state are stepping up to protect and extend voting rights, remove the power of money in politics, and create fair districting so that we each have an equal voice. With the broad network Democracy Initiative , we at the Small Planet Institute are working to make it easy for all Americans to be inspired and participate. So, together we created a meeting ground on the web— www.DemocracyMovement.US —where citizens can discover how they can push forward democracy reforms nationally and in their state. Whether it is a brutal dictator or the climate crisis that has our attention, only with a democracy do we feel empowered to confront the problems of our time. Let the tragedy in Ukraine be democracy's call to all of us worldwide that now is the time to stand together as brothers and sisters-in-democracy. When we do so, no problem is too daunting for us to solve.

By Frances Mooré Lappe / February 23, 2022 Beyond monopoly’s power to limit our freedom to choose and earn a fair wage, our freedom is also compromised by the dominance of corporate power within our political system. Workers at a distribution station in the 855,000-square-foot Amazon fulfillment center in Staten Island, one of the five boroughs of New York City, on February 5, 2019. (Photo: Johannes Eisele / AFP via Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams , February 23, 2022 Americans love freedom…and who doesn’t? To be happy, most of us need a sense of agency and abhor the thought of Big Brother looking over our shoulder. But for many Americans a defining notion of freedom is being “free to choose,” a phrase made famous as the title of the 1980 book by Milton and Rose Friedman. Much earlier, Milton Friedman’s "Capitalism and Freedom" in 1962 tethered such freedom to a particular economic system—unbridled capitalism. It sounds like common sense. Freedom means choice in the market, and we’ve bought it—literally and figuratively—often blinding us to the obvious: Such freedom is conditional. It is real only when markets offer us numerous options, and we have enough income to seal the deal. Unfortunately, both conditions are threatened, even ripped away, when a handful of corporations dominate whole sectors of our economy and then use their power to gain political advantage. Way back in 1890, our federal government confronted such a freedom-killing market—then dominated by “robber barons” such as John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie. Passing the Sherman Anti-Trust Act , Congress began to rein in anticompetitive practices, including price fixing. Antitrust laws again became a national focus during World War II . As nations fell to fascist leaders, with economies increasingly under government control, Americans’ antipathy toward anti-competitive systems hardened. So, by the 1960s both Democratic and Republican administrations prosecuted numerous antitrust cases. Sixty years later, though, not so much. What happened? By the 1970s, big business felt threatened by social justice movements—from racial equity to anti-war—challenging the overweening power of corporations. And in 1971, a worried Chamber of Commerce commissioned corporate lawyer Lewis Powell to produce the now-infamous Powell Memo . With strident prose, he called for defense of the “free enterprise system” that “faced broad, shotgun attack.” In the 1980s, the Reagan Era continued identifying public power as the threat, effectively diverting attention from the dangers of concentrated private power. Reagan’s inaugural address set the tone: Government “is not the solution. It is the problem,” he famously declared. Reagan aligned with what is known as the Chicago School of economics , identified with Friedman and generally opposing government rule-setting, including those to keep markets open. The result? From 1982 to 2012 every sector of our economy became more monopolistic, according to the HHI Index —a standard measure of market concentration. Worst? The retail market, where concentration tightened more than five-fold . Then, tech giants pioneered a new path to monopoly power observed Paul Gleason in the Washington Monthly in 2020. “They gather tremendous amounts of information about their users and then use that information to offer different users different deals depending on their individual habits,” wrote Gleason. This data enables strategic marketing and pricing allowing them to squeeze competitors out of business. “Amazon, Facebook, and Google have, in a way, brought feudalism back. All of us, whenever we use their websites, create the data that makes these companies rich,” he argued. So, Gleason concluded, consumers become “ uncompensated producers whenever we are surfing the Internet.” In addition to their power over prices, monopolies determine the fate of workers. With ever fewer competitive companies, workers lose bargaining power. “Wages across America today are 20 percent or more lower, relative to the economy as a whole, than a generation ago,” notes Barry C. Lynn , head of Open Markets Institute. Why? “Monopolists have exploited their power to drive these wages down,” he writes. Beyond monopoly’s power to limit our freedom to choose and earn a fair wage, our freedom is also compromised by such power within our political system. The influence of corporate monopolies leads to “privatization deals, natural resources given away below fair value, corrupt public procurement, or tax exemptions and loopholes.” All are avenues through which “well-connected private interests can enrich themselves at the expense of the public,” concludes Oxfam’s 2018 Reward Work, Not Wealth . “Monopolism, cronyism and inheritance together account for two-thirds of the world’s billionaire wealth,” finds Oxfam. So how can we break free of the mythology of the free market to create a fair economy? Solutions begin with acknowledging there is no such thing as a market without rules. Currently, the primary “rule” of our economy is: Do what brings highest return to existing wealth. So wealth accrues to wealth, accrues to wealth to the point that our nation suffers greater economic inequality than more than 100 others, ranking between Bulgaria and Peru, according to the World Bank . Letting go of the mythology of a free market, we gain trust in our common sense and experience. In the early 1980s, I got to debate Friedman on stage at the University of California, Berkeley, and all I recall is this: “Mr. Friedman,” I said, “if you are correct that capitalism’s great virtue is freedom to choose in the marketplace, then the more widely and equitably spread purchasing power is, the greater the freedom.” So how do we create such equity making “freedom to choose” a reality? We work like crazy to unlock the control monopolies hold over our government, our workers, and our daily lives. Here are some big but obvious steps. Limit the power of lobbyists. Today in Washington more than 20 lobbyists represent mostly corporate interests for every person we elect to represent us. In 2021, the US Chamber of Commerce alone spent $66 million on lobbying. End the power of money in elections that makes lawmakers beholden to private interests. Substantial public funding is used in many democracies including Finland , Germany , and Brazil . In Germany, the public, along with party membership fees, covers two-thirds of election costs. So elected representatives aren’t beholden to large private donors. Remove obstacles faced by the labor movement, now representing just over 6 percent of private sector workers. A start is upping the minimum hourly wage. It would be $26 today if it had kept pace with inflation. Protecting union organizers is also urgent. Major U.S. companies, such as Amazon , strive to prevent their workers from unionizing. Most recently, Starbucks workers in Memphis filed a case with the National Labor Relations Board charging they were fired for their organizing efforts. Plus, right now, the Senate can pass the Protecting the Right to Organize (PRO) Act approved by the House last year. It would both expand labor protections and punish employers who try to prevent workers from organizing. Government can also enhance fairness by offering citizens avenues for reporting harm caused by monopoly power. To that end, our Department of Justice and Department of Agriculture just-launched farmerfairness.gov —an online tool farmers and ranchers can use to report “potentially unfair and anticompetitive practices in the livestock and poultry sectors.” Oh, there’s so much we can do. Once shedding free-market mythology, we can step up as citizens to shape a culture of fairness that could indeed make us free—or at least free-er—to choose, and in the process create economies that enhance life and human dignity. * Max Boland contributed to the writing of this article.

By Frances Moore Lappé // February 15, 2022 The assumption held by many Americans that our nation enjoys relatively equal opportunity in part reflects widespread lack of awareness of how extreme U.S. economic inequality has become. Originally Published on Common Dreams, February 15, 2022 For decades I grappled with one puzzle. Why would we homo sapiens, supposedly the brightest species, be creating a world together that as individuals none of us would choose? I'll bet no one turns off the alarm in the morning and begins plotting to worsen world hunger or heat the planet. Then, something clicked. I became aware of a special feature of our powerful minds. Of course, our complex brains illuminate a lot we need to know to thrive; but a special feature of human consciousness can, literally, destroy us. The danger is this: We humans see our world filtered through culturally determined frames. So, we simply cannot see what does not fit within them. Einstein nailed it when he declared "It is the theory which decides what we can observe." So, while we often hear the expression "seeing is believing," the opposite is true. Believing is seeing. I'll go so far as to claim that today, Earth as we know it cannot survive unless we grasp and grapple with this human handicap. Here are three current and dangerous filters I call "thought traps," from which we must break free. One: In our free-market economy, all have the opportunity to succeed; so those struggling must be losers. They just need to try harder. Two: What threatens America's healthy economy and culture is "the other." For some, the other includes minorities and immigrants. For others, they are Trumpists or liberals. Three: American democracy is among the best in the world. Yes, we've slipped somewhat, but our goal is to regain the status we've long deserved. I'll take each in order. About equal opportunity? We're not doing so great: Measures of upward economic mobility are a key indicator of opportunity, and by this measure a 2016 Stanford study found that among two dozen industrial countries, we ranked 16th, just below Argentina. The assumption held by many Americans that our nation enjoys relatively equal opportunity in part reflects widespread lack of awareness of how extreme U.S. economic inequality has become. World Bank data reveals that income here is now more tightly concentrated than in more than 100 countries. We place between Bulgaria and Peru. To spark necessary hope, we can spread the word that America's economy has, in the past, been much more equitable. From the 1940s to the 1970s, all income levels doubled real family income. It was only in the '80s that income started rushing to the top echelons. So, when we find ourselves in the middle of an argument about some version of "Americans should just pull themselves up by their bootstraps!", we might slip in news about these deep roots, perhaps softening the tendency to blame those blocked by our built-in forces generating inequity. One piece of evidence of barriers to advancement: While income has stagnated for most income strata, the average home price in 1950 that was about $80,000 (in today's dollars) is now over $400,000 . Once adjusting for inflation, today's average wage has no greater purchasing power it did 40 years ago. Wage gains have "mostly flowed to the highest-paid tier of workers," reports Pew Research Center. The second thought trap I call "othering." We humans are especially vulnerable to its hazards because, of course, we'd rather not acknowledge any responsibility for other people's pain. But there's an additional aspect to this thought trap that makes it so hard to escape. We are deeply social creatures who evolved in tribes, within which we found security, meaning, community, and a sense of agency. All that sounds positive. But, unfortunately, focusing on differences, as we engage in "othering," can feed a comforting, empowering—but dangerous—identity within a tribe. To get beyond the harms of othering, we can first recognize its not-so-subtle appeal and then help each other see that by pointing fingers we hurt ourselves: We divert our attention from the deep, system-wide rules and norms harming all of us except the super-rich. Even if we ourselves are doing better than the "other," a nation of extreme inequality is a much less desirable place to live than one with greater equity. Countries like Finland, Norway, and the Czech Republic rank near the top in economic equality and happiness alike, while countries like South Africa rank near the bottom in both. Economic inequality, for example, correlates with higher crimes rates across countries. In fact, inequality correlates with a wide range of social dysfunction, from imprisonment to poor educational outcomes, according Equality Trust . In other words, othering defeats us all. The third thought trap assumes American democracy is among the best in the world, even if, as of late, we've slipped somewhat. This long-held view of "American exceptionalism" doesn't hold up. Credible institutions rate the United States' democracy as of lower quality than many nations. For example, the Swedish institute V-Dem includes our country among the worst democratic "backsliders" over the last twelve years, placing us outside of the top 10% of nations in the Liberal Democracy Index. In Freedom House scoring, we do even worse, lagging behind 60 nations. No human institution—from marriage to school to government—can improve itself without a realistic assessment of its weaknesses. So, let us spread the word. Yes, it is painful to acknowledge how far we are from our commonly held self-image. But imagine how much worse it would feel if we learned of our democracy's deficits while also believing we're the best. We'd be robbed of inspiration and practical lessons about how we can realize democracy's promise. So, let us all work to break free from these deadly thought traps and join in growing democracy movements —especially arising among the young—intent, for example, on reversing Republican efforts that limit voting rights and fuel gerrymandering. These courageous Americans aim to remove the power of private wealth and corporate influence over our elections and governance. With the fate not just of our own people, but now—given the threat of climate change—the future of life on our small planet, many are discovering that democratic action is not a dull duty but a thrilling experience, meeting deep human needs of agency, meaning and connection.

By Frances Moore Lappé and Max Boland / February 2, 2022 It can be painful to acknowledge the stone-cold truth that we are indeed exceptional, but by many measures, not in ways we can celebrate. An American flag in front of a damaged school area in Dayton, Ohio on May 28, 2019. (Photo: Seth Herald/AFP via Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams, February 2, 2022 Americans' long-held view of ourselves as the world's "best everything" stands in the way of progress. So, here's my question: Can we absorb our true standing and be motivated—rather than demoralized—by learning from nations that are doing better? It is an urgent question because America is in trouble…as you probably don't need me to tell you. In early January, seven out ten of Americans surveyed agreed U.S. democracy was "in crisis and at risk of failing." Here's alarming evidence backing up the grim assessment. Whereas in 1995 one in fifteen of us approved "of the idea of having the army rule," by 2014 the share had grown to one in six. Most disturbing, in December one in three Americans agreed that "violence against the government is sometimes justified." Reading these sentiments, what probably pops to mind for most of us is the 2021 violent assault on our Capitol. But rushing to that frightening day forces us to jump over colossal negative shifts in our culture that have been growing over decades. Attributing our democracy's crisis solely to Trump's impact can blind us to causes of disaffection that are not political but are an everyday reality for millions. It can be painful to acknowledge the stone-cold truth that we are indeed exceptional, but by many measures, not in ways we can celebrate. The United States is the 14th happiest country in the World, lagging far behind Switzerland, Germany, and the Nordic countries. We may take solace in being ranked at least near the top, but for America to be truly "exceptional," shouldn't we be leading the pack? From our health and education to our safety and well-being, we have not lived up to our self-image as "the world's best." We fail to meet the needs of our fellow Americans, even from birth. Forty-five countries have achieved lower infant mortality rates than we have. We also fail at providing equity in health outcomes, as the maternal mortality rate for Black women in 2019 was two and a half times higher than white women. In our schools, we have failed to give our students the education they need to become the leaders of the future. In a standardized test administered by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) to samples of 15-year-old students from around the world, the United States ranked 30th out of 79 countries in math. Our often-renowned higher education system also fails America's students. We rank eighth among 46 OECD countries in percentage of adults with a bachelor's degree, but our government invests nearly $4,000 more per student. Couple that with skyrocketing student debt to cover the inflated cost of a 4-year degree , and it is clear that we are not getting enough bang for our buck. Americans are also deprived of the safety we all need, as violent crimes have been on the rise since the pandemic. The US has a higher homicide rate than over 100 nations , including Myanmar and Lebanon , both of which have Level 4 travel advisories from the Department of State warning about crime and civil unrest. How can the state of our democracy be strong when our people aren't getting the care, education, and safety they need to be "exceptional" in their own lives? Our extreme economic disparities also reveal a lot about our democracy deficits. Why? A grounding premise of democracy is equal vote and thus equal voice, expressed in electing representatives to promote our "general welfare"—what is set forth in the preamble of the Constitution as a prime goal of our nation. On the surface, it's hard to imagine that any political body in which citizens hold power would choose policies generating today's gross disparities. Here is one measure of its depth: Together 90 percent of Americans strive to make do on less total wealth than that in the hands of the wealthiest 1 percent. And in income disparity? Here, it has become more extreme than that in more than 100 nations, reports the World Bank. Our gap between income classes is wider than, for example, in Bulgaria and Haiti. Now, the question: Once motivated by both alarm at our failure as well as inspiration from nations demonstrating that positive change in our personal and political lives is possible, what can American citizens do? Fortunately, an unprecedented movement of movements for democracy reform now offers many opportunities. Americans with a range of core concerns—from healthcare to racial justice and income inequality—grasp that solutions require accountable democracy. So, the big push for voting-rights legislation that came close to passage last month is not dead. The Democracy Initiative—an extensive coalition of organizations—and our organization, Small Planet Institute, cosponsor a handy tool for finding your pathway to meaningful action. Jump to www.DemocracyMovement.US and discover many avenues for becoming a democracy champion. Now! As Dee Hock observed years ago, "It is far too late and things are far too bad for pessimism."

By Frances Moore Lappé / January 6, 2022 That which is essential to address all our major challenges—democracy truly accountable to the people—is not an option. It is an absolute necessity. And so we must fight on. Rev. John J. Nicholas Jr., pastor at St. John's Baptist Church, applauds the efforts of the Texas Legislative Black Caucus (TxLBC) during a news conference about voting rights at Unity Baptist Church on July 26, 2021 in Washington, DC. Local faith leaders called on Black churches across the country to join with the Texas Legislative Black Caucus in their efforts to protect voting freedoms. (Photo: Drew Angerer/Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams , January 6, 2022 A new year is supposed to trigger the energy of new beginnings, requiring at least a bit of optimism. Right? But at the anniversary of January 6th—a day of national infamy—optimism and its companion, hope, can feel out of reach. So, maybe it’s time to rethink optimism, as it feels harder and harder to muster. (I admit, it’s too much for me.) Given our crisis of democracy in which a third of Americans reject Biden’s election as illegitimate and Freedom House ranking our nation 61th in the world—stuck between Monaco and Romania—in “people’s access to political rights and civil liberties,” and climate chaos already destroying life, where do we find evidence for optimism? Fortunately, some time ago it dawned on me that optimism—based on weighing the odds—is not required to be fully alive in this do-or-die moment for humanity and even for life on Earth as we’ve known it. Through our long history, humans have made big leaps in face of seemingly impossible odds. What likelihood of success could humanity’s African ancestors have felt when first setting forth to explore the world as much as 2 million years ago? And, in our own fight for independence, what odds would early European settlers have given their defeat of Britain? Afterall, its population was three times that of the colonies, and British armaments were superior as well. Of course, I could also throw in most life-changing innovations we take for granted today but probably would have scoffed at before they caught on like wildfire. Take the world wide web—impossible for most of us even to imagine until Tim Berners-Lee in 1990 created the first site—coming, he said later , from what was really “an act of desperation.” But, if evidence-based optimism isn’t required for action, what is? I believe humanity’s journey has demonstrated that humans do not need strong evidence to justify action. Instead, we jump in when certain conditions are met. We need to feel our action serves our deepest needs, even beyond the physical, and they are: First, a sense of agency, for we evolved as “doers,” not mere pawns or passive observers. Second, we are creatures meaning and thus need to feel our actions count for more than just survival. Third, as profoundly social creatures, we need to feel our actions connect us meaningfully with others. Given our needs for power, meaning, and connection, over and over humans have shown that to act to fulfill them certainty of outcome is not required. Most of us need only to sense there’s a chance that our action might matter, and we’ll step up. In this moment, as America’s democracy continues to sink, some might say, for example, nah, action for the Freedom to Vote Act is useless. But Americans are not giving up. Many get it: That which is essential to address all our major challenges—democracy truly accountable to the people—is not an option. It is an absolute necessity. Odds of success become irrelevant. Also, note well. In our world the nature of life is continuous change in which all is connected; so, every element is shaping all others moment to moment. “There are no parts, only participants,” the late German physicist Hans Peter Duerr declared to me. Thus, it is not possible to know what’s possible . From that one insight, we are free. We are free to go for the world we want, knowing every action we take—and don’t take—is changing the world. Someone is always watching, and we never know who. In other words, the only choice we don’t have is whether to change the world. And that includes the choice to step up for democracy itself—the tap root that must be made healthy if we are to tackle any of today’s super challenges, from climate chaos to devastating injustice. And here’s a tool we at the Small Planet Institute co-created to make it easy to step up— www.DemocracyMovement.us. Jump in… it feels great. So, the new year opens, I thus declare myself not an optimist but a possibilist, grounded firmly on all we know about the nature of life itself.

By Frances Moore Lappé / January 24, 2022 Mistrust of government and the tensions between segments of society have been intentionally constructed and aggravated. Once you recognize that, the solutions to the crises we truly face become more clear. A Make America Great Again hat engulfed in flames burns on the ground after counter protesters lit it on fire in front of the barricade. A group with far-right ties that goes by the name "Super Happy Fun America" holds a rally called "Peaceful Protest Against Democrat Violence" at Copley Square in Boston on Oct. 18, 2020. (Photo: Jessica Rinaldi/The Boston Globe via Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams , January 24, 2022 “We are a polarized nation!” Seems self-evident, right? But to me the refrain feels more like judgment than explanation—one implying that we the American people are the problem: We’re just too close-minded, insulated, uninformed and prone to violence to come together for solutions. Angry voices carried in news coverage of the anniversary of January 6th certainly stoked the diagnosis. As does a frightening new Washington Post poll finding that one in three Americans “believe violence against the government is sometimes justified.” But framing our crisis as polarization is dangerous. It can serve as a veil, hiding what should be in plain sight: the insurrection and continuing angry accusations have emerged in large measure from a society not yet facing its deep shortcomings. It skirts the truth that many Americans live in daily distress, fueling their fear and distrust of government. Even before the pandemic took hold, nearly 80 percent of American workers were living paycheck to paycheck. The polarization diagnosis also blinds us to our broad unity. Over 80 percent of Americans agree that our democracy is not working well and believe our campaign finance laws are inadequate . A recent poll in seven states also found widespread support for pending voting rights legislation, and two-thirds of us back stronger action on climate change . So, what if polarization was best understood as a symptom, not a cause? The result of a system guaranteeing the extreme accumulation of wealth, along with deepening daily insecurities and indignities for the non-wealthy. Note that America has become more unequal economically than over 100 countries, according to the World Bank. At the top, 745 billionaires hold five trillion dollars in wealth— two-thirds greater than that of the entire bottom half of U.S. households, reports the Federal Reserve. More than a quarter of American households try to survive on $35,000 or less in yearly income, according to the Census Bureau . Compounding this gross inequity is tax injustice: A 2021 study revealed that in recent years the “Forbes 400” paid an effective tax rate of about 8 percent , lower than what many everyday Americans pay. Given these realities, many sense our society is rife with unfairness, and from there it’s easier to understand the resentment that makes people vulnerable to conspiracy pushers. Contrast these truths with the long-and-widely held assumption that our country is the world leader. No more. Americans’ self-evaluation has been sinking. According to a 2020 poll , almost a third of us see our government as corrupt, only 39 percent believe our country promotes income equality, less than half view our government as transparent, while only half view it as trustworthy. To make our poor standing among our peers real, consider the cost and quality of one life essential—health care. We spend twice per person what other wealthy countries do, leading to heavy medical debt, now our number one cause of bankruptcies. And for all we pay, what do we get? Unnecessary suffering. The death rate of our infants, for example, puts us near the worst among our peers— 33rd out of 36 nations in the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development . Our rate of loss is three times that of Japan’s. And what are the officials we elect doing to help turn the tide on these inequities causing such needless suffering? Very little. Why? Too many profit-seeking interests have their ears. In Washington, more than 20 lobbyists , primarily serving corporate interests, push their employers’ agenda for every congressperson we’ve elected to serve ours. Dependent on private wealth to keep them in office, members of Congress spend 30 to 70 percent of their time raising money to fund their re-election—not on furthering their constituencies’ priorities. Also feeding our democracy crisis is corruption of the public square—news and conversation that are the heartbeat of democracy. It, too, has been captured by private wealth. Once the Reagan administration killed the Fairness Doctrine—requiring broadcasters to offer multiple viewpoints—news quickly became just another profit center. Rush Limbaugh became a multi-millionaire, and fact-free, emotionally charged content caught fire. Profits of inflammatory media—from talk radio to Fox News to social media—soared, as lies spread six times faster than truth. Given all this, we should not be surprised that America—long considered the world’s democracy champion— now ranks 61st between Monaco and Romania in Freedom House democracy scores. When our people suffer widespread economic insecurity due to the extreme unfairness of our economy and legalized corruption built into our governance—along with media profiting on inflammatory content—widespread despair, anger, and a need to punish become understandable. The picture painted here rocks the soul. Yet solutions are within our reach. We can begin by courageously taking down the myth of opportunity belied by our intertwined political and economic systems. Unless we clearly call out the deep, systemic injustices, those struggling to get by understandably can feel shame, and shame can fire angry blame. To move toward basic economic fairness, a keystone in democracy’s foundation, we can insist on equitable taxation and reversing President Trump’s policies that are harmful to labor . The correlation between the labor movement’s strength, economic equity, and democracy is strong. We can gain confidence that progress is possible by appreciating how other nations prevent the power of private wealth from corrupting political life. For example, one hundred and sixteen nations— 68 percent —provide direct public funding to political parties. Did you know that Jimmy Carter’s campaign for the presidency relied heavily on public funding? It is possible. Language is also critical. Just as “polarization” is misleading, also unhelpful is suggesting we must “save” or “protect” our democracy. Why would Americans want to save what’s causing them such suffering? Instead, we can cop to our nation’s democracy deficits and frame our challenge as building a truly accountable, transparent democracy. Most important, all who are terrified by the strength of today’s anti-democratic forces can turn panic into action. Now is the moment. The Brennan Center reports that in 2021, the Republican efforts to push state legislation to restrict voting access was aggressive and successful—19 states passed 34 laws restricting access to voting. We can each push our state representatives to act now to protect our voting rights. Today’s immediate focus on voting rights is but one key piece of a rising people’s movement for democracy system-reforms involving tens of millions of Americans—potentially strong enough to reshape governance to be accountable to all of us. Very personal self-interest can serve here us, too. Appreciating our broad unity—belying the polarization frame—can unleash hope, as does action itself. And hope is tonic for the soul.

By Frances Moore Lappé / January 13, 2021 Fed up, everyday citizens are stepping up to reverse a whole slew of assaults on our democracy—from voting rights to gerrymandering to removing money's grip. Voting rights activists gather for a rally outside the White House October 19, 2021 in Washington, DC. People of American Way (PFAW) held a rally on "No More Excuses: Voting Rights Now." (Photo: Alex Wong/Getty Images) Originally Published on Common Dreams , January 13, 2021 Seven out ten of Americans believe the U.S. democracy is "in crisis and at risk of failing." And in this moment is our chance not only to pull back from the brink but to leap forward—aware that democracy is our "tap root" trouble: For progress on any of the crises weighing on us—whether climate, economic inequity, or lagging public health—depends on governance accountable to the American people. Whether a couple or a country, facing a crisis requires confronting reality, even if it hurts. So, first let's make a quick, an eyes-wide-open assessment of our democracy, then explore opportunity—right now—to make history. Our assumptions may be shattered, but our motivation to act might be stoked, enriching our lives with meaning and power…and who doesn't want that? Here's my attempt at a clear-eyed look. Four years ago 58 percent of Americans agreed our democracy was working well. But in a poll last spring, just 19 percent agreed our democracy provides a "good example" for the rest of the world. From the mid-1960s to 1980 trust in government—essential to democracy— nose-dived from 77 percent to less than 30 percent. Now it's a mere 24 percent. Grounds for Americans' withering assessments show up in rankings worldwide. Three independent bodies peg us way down the ladder, not even close to other long-term democracies. Freedom House puts us 61st from the best, and on par with Monaco, Romania, and Panama. Sweden-based V-Dem ranks us below 30 countries, including Greece, Slovakia, and Chile. Harvard's Electoral Integrity Project assessment places roughly 50 countries ahead of us. And why do we show up so poorly? First are our anti-democratic system rules. Most obvious, our Constitution awards each state two seats, giving a voter in sparsely populated Wyoming 70 times the clout of a voter in California, whose population equals Canada's. So our Senate can be controlled by those representing less than 20 percent of the national vote, The Guardian calculated. Second, citizens' votes don't decide elections; the Electoral College does. As a result, during the 19th century the popular-vote winner lost the presidential election three times; and in the last two decades alone it's happened twice more. Gerrymandering—the drawing of district lines to advantage one party—is another barrier to American democracy. Both parties do it, but Republicans control the line-drawing process in states representing 187 House seats compared to 75 for Democrats. Over the last decade, Republicans' redistricting efforts have helped them "build a greater political advantage in more states than either party had in the past 50 years," reports Associated Press. Making matter worse, in the first nine months of 2021 alone, Republicans led effort s resulting in 33 laws in 19 states making voting more difficult. Take mail-in ballots—shown to increase voter turnout. Eight European countries offer all voters the option, and 40 countries used mail-in voting in the last election. Here, only in five states do all eligible voters automatically receive a ballot in the mail. Voter turnout tells us a lot about trust in government. Through the '50's and '60's, more than 60 percent of our eligible population voted. But from 1972 on, turnout stayed mainly in the 50th percentiles. Then, 2020 turnout jumped to 67 percent , likely due to Trump's controversial presidency and expanded voting access for the COVID-19 pandemic . Comparatively, in recent nationwide elections, the U.S. comes in a sad 30th out of 35 nations within the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. At the top? Australia and Sweden where 80 percent of citizens of voting age vote. The "price tag" of an election and who pays are also good measures of democracy. When private donors foot the bill—as in our elections—their interests gain an edge over the public good. Our 2020 election costing $ 14.4 billion doubled the 2016 total—with three-fourths of donations coming from larger donors. Note also, we allow billionaire donors to funnel their cash to super PACs and hybrid PACs and to spend unlimited sums, some of which is "dark money"—i.e., untraceable—in violation of democracy's principles of transparency. And in election expenditures, how do we stack up? Compare our 2020 per person election cost with that of Germany . Its was $1.33 while ours was 33 times greater, $43.00 for every man, woman, and child. Note that in Germany the public, along with party membership fees, covers two-thirds of election costs. That way, winners don't feel indebted to private funders. And then, there's gerrymandering—the drawing of district maps for partisan advantage. In 2010, Republicans, according the Brennan Center, were "wildly successful" in redrawing maps to gain control in 213 congressional districts, producing "some of the most extreme gerrymanders in history." Had enough about our challenges? Gotcha. So, here's the great news—first the big picture and then our historic chance, in this moment, to turn the tide. A citizens' democracy movement—in its breadth perhaps unique in our history—is arising. Fed up, everyday citizens are stepping up to reverse a whole slew of assaults on our democracy—from voting rights to gerrymandering to removing money's grip. One of its champions a young Michigander, Katie Fahey. A recent New York Times story celebrates the anti-gerrymandering effort in Michigan initially triggered by her single Facebook post. Ultimately, it led to gathering 425,000 signatures statewide to pass a 2018 ballot initiative shifting responsibility for drawing district lines into the hands of an independent commission. Now Michigan is in line with the practice of "most other long-term democracies," notes the The Washington Post . In all, now ten states have a nonpartisan commission with " primary responsibility " for drawing congressional district lines. If you think of such democracy reforms as arcane and beyond reach, think again: My organization Small Planet Institute and the coalition Democracy Initiative , representing 45 million Americans, have created DemocracyMovement.US . It's a handy tool. There you'll find an urgent, national action you can take right now for democracy; and you can also quickly jump to your state to weigh in on democracy reforms closest to home. Now to our chance to make history in this moment. Two critical voting-rights bills — H.R.4 and H.R.1 , now pending in the Senate, are strong enough to remove some of our mightiest barriers to democracy. And if necessary, to make that win possible, Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer, "has repeatedly vowed to launch an effort to change the Senate's filibuster rules by Martin Luther King Jr. Day on Jan. 17." All Senate Democrats support the bills. However, Senators Joe Manchin of West Virginia and Kyrsten Sinema of Arizona as well as a few other holdouts have opposed changing filibuster rules to make passage possible. Now, we can call our representatives to push these senators, and why not try phone banking with Common Cause? It's empowering callers to reach folks in the critical states. And phone banking is kick: Through an automated setup, you give callers an immediate way to leave a message for their legislators. Most Americans feel our democracy is in big trouble; yet many fewer know that this week is a critical moment for turning the tide. Acting now, we nourish the endangered tap root—democracy—and simultaneously fight despair as we discover new connections, meaning, and power. Now there's a win-win-win.

By Frances Moore Lappé // November 27, 2021 A view of Faidherbia trees help to increase crop yields in Niger. From World Agroforestry on flicker. Originally Published in Truthout, November 27, 2021 Growing up in North Texas, farming to me meant fields of single crops stretching as far as the eye could see. Like many Americans, I’d come to assume that trees had no place in that vista. In fact, most of us probably assume a trade-off between forests and food. Now that the climate crisis calls for vastly more trees, it’s time to take in the good news that trees and crops can do well together . In fact, from Burma, to India, to the Philippines and countless other places, this is not news at all. Farmers have long known that crops and trees don’t compete — they complement each other. South and Southeast Asia have been credited as the “cradle” of agroforestry. In this practice, Africa offers inspiring lessons today. The African Sahel, a strip of 10 countries south of the Sahara, was for decades linked in my heart to great suffering due to its recurring famine . From the late 1960s to the early 1980s, drought combined with the legacy of colonialism caused many to die of starvation. Niger — one of the world’s poorest countries — was hit particularly hard. However, once crops were able to grow again in the mid-1990s due to improved rainfall , farmers began reviving their traditional, pre-colonial practice of growing trees and crops in the same fields, also called agroforestry. You see, with the right mix, trees and crops help each other thrive . In Niger, through farmer-to-farmer learning, more and more families came to see that tree stumps — along with tree roots and seeds in the soil — could all be nurtured, sprout and become trees. Farmers also embraced the traditional practice of growing legumes like cowpeas and peanuts that fix nitrogen — so they need not turn to chemical fertilizer, which can be costly and environmentally damaging. Ultimately, their work protected and regenerated perhaps as many as 200 million trees, all of which sequester carbon, improve soil fertility and significantly increase crop yields, experts on the ground have explained to me. They also offer fruit, fodder and firewood, and their foliage reduces soil temperature, helping retain soil moisture. To underscore farmers’ role as the leaders in this process, these practices are called “farmer-managed natural regeneration.” So effective were these practices that by 2009, Niger generated food security for 2.5 million people — then about 17 percent of the population. No one knows for sure how widespread these practices are in sub-Saharan Africa today, but Gray Tappan of the U.S. Geological Survey offered me an extrapolation from what is known: On-farm trees may have spread to more than half-a-million square miles in the region. That’s more twice the size of Texas! Amazing. And what does this big shift to agroforestry feel like? To help me understand, agronomist Tony Rinaudo shared a comment from a child in Ghana: “We eat fruits any time we want to, and if our parents have not prepared food, we can just go to the bush.” West Africa’s revitalization of integrating crops and trees has echoes here in the U.S. One is in the spread of alley cropping — a twist on agroforestry. Since 2013, the Savanna Institute in Wisconsin — inspired by native ecosystems — has been working with farmers to spread this practice to Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota and Wisconsin. In alley cropping, widely spaced “alleys” of trees thrive among companion crops that also help store carbon. The practice increases each acre’s total yield by at least 40 percent . Plus, alley cropping helps farmers by sequestering carbon, diversifying their income sources, preventing soil erosion and providing wildlife habitat, Jacob Grace of the Savanna Institute explains . Almost a quarter of “all Midwestern farmland would be more profitable with rows of trees in it, compared to corn and soybean monocultures,” Grace writes. Beyond the Midwest, another contributor to agroforestry’s reach is Soul Fire Farm in upstate New York. It offers immersion learning for those of Black, Indigenous and Latinx heritage in regenerative farming — including Afro-Indigenous agroforestry. Agroforestry — from Africa to our Midwest and beyond — holds the technical potential to sequester a significant percentage of total global emissions. These leaders, and so many more, build on millennia of experience integrating trees and crops. So, let’s spread the word that trees and crops are natural allies whose relationship we can nurture for the benefit of all. Note: This article features topics discussed in the 50th anniversary edition of the author’s book, ' Diet for a Small Planet ' , released September 2021. This version features a brand-new opening chapter, simple rules for a healthy diet, and updated recipes by some of the country’s leading plant- and planet-centered chefs. You can join in the Democracy Movement at www.democracymovement.us . Copyright © Truthout. May not be reprinted without permission .

Finding ways to navigate the challenges of living on a small planet. By Frances Moore Lappé // December 15, 2021 Frances Moore Lappé sitting on a log in the late 1960s while researching Diet for a Small Planet. Originally Published in The Progressive, December 15, 2021 I am a child of the sixties, fed by its energy and hope. In 1962, in its Port Huron Statement , Students for a Democratic Society called for participatory democracy, and it sure made sense to me. Fresh out of college in 1967—and pumped up by recent, historic civil rights and voting rights wins—I joined Lyndon Johnson’s War on Poverty. I tried to live up to its premise of “ maximum feasible participation ” as I worked in Philadelphia side-by-side with single moms seeking decent housing. But by the late 1960s, a very different energy gripped our culture: fear. In 1968, Paul and Anne Ehrlich’s Population Bomb exploded, warning that we were nearing the limits of Earth’s ability to feed us. At the same time, Garrett Hardin’s “ Tragedy of the Commons ” argued that we were having too many babies, saying we can preserve “precious freedoms” only by “relinquishing the freedom to breed.” At the time, millions of people were dying in African famines. I had to know: Is scarcity behind all this suffering? Fortunately, I had access to the agricultural library at the University of California, Berkeley. With my dad’s slide rule and a friendly librarian’s help, I dug in. Soon the math was undeniable: Our world was producing enough food for all, but our meat-centric food system involved staggering amounts of waste. We couldn’t blame population growth for hunger and starvation. Instead, our supposedly bright species was actively creating scarcity, regardless of how much food we were growing. I was shocked. I had to share the great news: We are not fated to overrun the Earth. Since we humans are creating the problem, we can fix it. So I began with a one-page handout, and soon my book, Diet for a Small Planet , was born. Having discovered the vast waste built into our meat-centered diet, I wanted no part of it. For me, choosing a “plant-and-planet-centered” diet was an act of rebel sanity. Every day, I could say no to our destructive and unjust food system. In my new food choices, I was no longer a mere victim or observer but a locus of power for the good of the Earth, others, and myself. But, simultaneous with my “eureka” moment, a new tide of fear was rising. What in the 1960s stirred hope—the possibility that all might gain their rightful voice in our democracy—now felt downright threatening to some. The movements against poverty and war and for civil rights and women’s rights terrified many in the ruling class. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce enlisted Lewis F. Powell Jr., a respected attorney and soon-to-be Supreme Court Justice, to prepare an action plan to protect the “free enterprise system.” The resulting “ Confidential Memorandum ,” dated August 23, 1971, sounded an alarm. “The American economic system is under broad attack,” Powell declared. “[It is] in deep trouble, and the hour is late.” Powell called for sweeping initiatives to protect against “bureaucratic regulation.” Well-placed people took Powell’s advice to heart with immediate results. Between 1971 and 1982, the number of firms with registered lobbyists in Washington, D.C., rose almost fourteen-fold to 2,445. More money than ever poured into elections. Court rulings largely did away with limits on spending by candidates and their corporate supporters . In the past two decades alone, spending in elections has jumped more than three-fold to $14.4 billion. In the decade following Powell’s memo, Ronald Reagan swept into the White House by decrying government as “ the problem ” and celebrating the “ magic of the marketplace .” What Powell began has become the law of the land. Today, there is no question that business is in the driver’s seat. Fifty years ago, we believed that scarcity was the biggest threat. But, in fact, there is no scarcity. People go hungry not because of a lack of food, but a lack of power. Hunger is not inevitable; it is a choice we inflict on others. What can crack this false frame? When will its disconnection with our lived reality become too great? Consider, for example, the United Nations data that confirms that the world’s absolute supply of food has been steadily increasing since the agricultural boom of the 1970s. Yet, three billion of us still cannot afford healthy food, and one in five children under the age of five are stunted, leading to lifelong problems. With the past half-century’s experience, it’s become harder to deny that suffering arises not from nature’s deficit but humanity’s failure—our failure so far to establish just rules and norms to reverse the tightening concentration of wealth and the decline of democracies around the world. Today, just over 2,000 billionaires—a group that could easily fit into my town’s high school!—now control more wealth than 60 percent of the world’s population. And the United States now ranks behind almost sixty nations in the quality of our democracy, according to a report by Freedom House. Both trends block inclusive, deliberative decision-making—the prerequisite to reversing our wasteful, destructive focus on grain-fed meat. Waste? Here’s a measure: Roughly 80 percent of the world’s agricultural land now goes to support livestock, which provide only about 20 percent of our calories. And destructive? Our corporate-chemical food system is responsible for about 37 percent of greenhouse gases. Eighty percent of rainforest destruction is driven by meat production. If cows formed a “cow country,” it would be the world’s sixth greatest emitter of greenhouse gases. What I’ve learned in the past half-century is that the power of belief—that is, the scarcity scare—has led to a huge loss of precious time. It has kept us focused on measuring quantities instead of improving relationships. But a better way of seeing is arising: We have not overrun the Earth with people. We’ve wrecked the very ecology on which all life depends. Tightly held political and economic power threatens all. But engaged citizens—stirred by crises ranging from climate change to racial justice to labor rights to reproductive choice—are beginning to come together, naming and tackling the deepest root, that of our democracy deficit. False fears have long distracted us, dangerously enabling power to concentrate. Now let us put our legitimate fear to good use. With the courage to ensure all voices are heard, we each can contribute to saving life on our small planet. What could be more glorious?