Longing for the Commons

A good description of the Commons is given on one website: ‘The global commons is the set of natural resources, basic services, public spaces, cultural traditions and other essentials of life and society that are, or should be, part of a public trust to be enjoyed by all people and cherished for the public’s well-being. Another way to conceive of these assets is how it is said in Spanish: el bien común – the common good. Behind the commons is the fundamental idea that life, information, human relationships, popular culture and the Earth’s riches are sacrosanct and not for sale.’ Here I want to look at the shades of meaning implicit in the term ‘the Commons’. Perhaps in popular speech the term describes an area of land set aside for public use. Previously that use may have been pasture for cattle or space for food growing. Today, it is more likely to be for recreation – such as parks or beaches. The so-called ‘Tragedy of the Commons’ is based on a pamphlet by William Foster Lloyd written in 1833. It is also the title of an essay about population growth written in 1968 by Garrett Hardin. The earlier work suggests that selfishness of one kind or another will prevail so as to make any kind of shared resource unsustainable. Garrett Hardin sees beyond this however, to show that co-operation can result in a shared resource being beneficial to all in the longer term. This leads us to a broader definition of the Commons – seeing beyond a description of the Commons that merely reduces it to commodity. (Hardin however saw this as being achieved through state control, or other top-down interventions, and described this as ‘socialising’ the commons. He used the word ‘commonise’ in a negative sense, to mean that we blindly pay for the mess resulting in unrestricted access to common resources. This way of expressing things is not to everyone’s taste, but the reality of a tragedy is all too apparent.) It helps, I think, to consider our relation to the Commons as a relation with an ecology. Ecology is about flourishing, growth, harmony and celebration. Ecology also sees the individual within a context. So it is about family and community, the physical characteristics of particular locations and also the feel of those places. We can think of the beauty of place itself. We may also see the beauty of the people, animals and plants that already occupy the space in and around a home and its environs. Ecology begins at home and we can start by asking ourselves what it is that will help us and our families to flourish, grow and enjoy a harmonious life? What will make our homes places of celebration? And finally of course ecology includes the broader context of the planet on which we all rely for our essential sustenance. So, place, home, community – and all of them closely linked. Let’s look at each of these in turn. We begin with place. Considering place in the context of the Commons – there are issues about ownership of property itself and ownership of the surrounding land, streets, parks, water, etc. that constitute the neighbourhood. How would that environment feel if it were considered to be your home? It often seems to me that our parks, public squares, streets and so on are micro-managed. Every park and beach seems to display a notice board listing various prohibitions. The human economy then – by way of the state or the local council – exercises very considerable control over what is in theory ‘free’ public space. The human economy also seems to want to exercise control over the Commons in the macro sense – in other words, to turn the whole planet into a park or a zoo. We might introduce another term for the Commons in the macro sense here and that term is ‘wilderness’. Wilderness – or so it seems – is something that in its hubris, human culture cannot abide. But wilderness cuts very deep. We might see our Commons – our parks and gardens, even city streets and squares – as pockets of wilderness. We might also argue that our own physical presence in the world, our own bodies, are wilderness. We might even argue that our subjective presence is wilderness in whole or in part. There is wilderness in the mind – or in the soul. Rather than engage in parochial concerns over roads, or local government or whatever, this is about something more basic. It is an adjustment to our response to wilderness – our response to Nature. The more that adjustment takes place – I would argue – the more the relationship to home, place, neighbourhood and society are adjusted. And there is always a tension – a dynamic or dialectic. The question is really about re-assessing values. And as was said above this relates to our response to wilderness of Nature and the wilderness of our own bodies and minds. That wilderness is driven primarily by pleasure, not power. Home becomes Commons not Enclosure. Nature remains enchanted and not commodified. We look to be empleasured rather than empowered. This idea of our being wilderness leads us back to that sense of the Commons that centres on the concept of home. We might start by saying, if my body is my home, then my home is wilderness. It is a strange thought. I am also, for the most part, forced to adopt a ‘second skin’ – products of the human economy – to shield myself from the world. Even at this basic level then there is a separation of wilderness from what it means to be human, and the separation is a tricky one. There is a paradox between the wildness of nature external to our buildings and our own inner wildness of mind and body. I regard home as a space where this paradox is made manifest. It is a paradox which may not be resolved and which may not need to be. As such, home can be both an exploration and a celebration of this dynamic tension. The word ‘home’ itself is laden with symbolism. It is a difficult term, but I think this aspect of separation is an important one and also as I suggest above, a paradoxical one. It is from wilderness that the separation is instigated, but it is the wilderness of one’s self that is ultimately being shielded. The main issue with home is not so much about the fabric of a house, but the fact that the land on which it sits is owned by someone. The scale of home therefore raises issues such as: Does anyone legitimately ‘own’ land outright? Is there – or should there be – land which is held in common and therefore available for people to use as they wish? Is it reasonable for people to occupy abandoned properties as ‘squatters’ and do the rights extended currently to such people seem reasonable? The fabric of a house though raises further issues relating to the Commons. It is subject to planning and building laws set down by local and national government. These restraints in turn mean that homeowners and house builders are reliant on specialists such as town planners, architects and structural engineers in order to create a home. The individual is dis-empowered therefore and such things as cabins, caravans, tents etc., are marginalised and regarded as not ‘real’ houses. They cannot receive a postal address for instance and cannot generally be registered for council tax. As such, anyone wishing to adopt such a lifestyle is excluded from the rest of society. Buildings generally, and homes in particular, are in my view places of peace and repose. I think this is true even of lively places like cafes and bars. There is something laid back and settled about towns and cities that are popular and well-loved. At the same time though, such places exhibit surprise, delight and celebration – and there are innumerable ways in which this is achieved. For me, this balance between peace and repose on the one hand and surprise and celebration on the other is what we are aiming at in design. It is the true expression of the ‘good life’ – of a culture that is genuinely flourishing. Firstly, we’ve seen a little of how the commons is considered today more in terms of the global commons, rather than, say, local land for farming, or house-building or woodland. Writers who consider the commons – even the well-known ones – tend to consider things in terms of transactions. There could be a ‘managed commons’ – either local or global – they might claim – if only we could get the management right. Or they might consider that this is not possible. But either way, it’s transaction. Even so, there’s an inkling of something different in the idea of the commons. The commons is a ‘plus-sum game’ – in other words, it’s mutual self-interest – what’s good for me is good for everyone else. The commons partakes of a different view of the world – one that we’ve partly lost, but one that we’ve also yet to fully realise. And hence, I think, the muddle around community and home. We – and I certainly include myself here – live in what I’ll call the old paradigm. But occasionally we get a glimpse of a new paradigm. The old paradigm is often contradictory and we’re often unconscious of its inner contradictions. Then, when we get a glimpse of some aspect of the new paradigm, we will often view it through the lens of old paradigm values – separation and transaction. I do it myself – and hence my ambivalence around home and community. So let me list some features of what I’m calling the old paradigm, then set out the equivalents in new paradigm thinking: FEATURES OF THE OLD PARADIGM: Quantity over quality. Spirt is separated from matter. Only Spirit is considered sacred. Matter, Nature and the body are seen as things to be exploited and controlled. There is shame about our being, since we are matter and body. Spirit and soul are often denied any existence at all, whilst consciousness is considered just an epiphenomenon of matter. Nature is considered hostile – she does not give up her fruits easily – so life is premised on scarcity. There is guilt, therefore, in anything that suggests abundance and celebration. Other people are a threat – we can deal with them, at best, only through transaction. Life is a zero-sum game – what’s good for me is likely to be bad for someone else, even if only indirectly. There is enclosure rather than commons. Rationality triumphs over emotion and the insight of the heart. Thus, there is intelligence but no wisdom. There’s no purpose other than of our own making. Art is just decoration not integral to the paradigm. Creativity is marginalised and diminished. There are no questions outwith science. The feminine is despised. Life is premised on separation, reason, rigidity, autonomy and independence. FEATURES OF THE NEW PARADIGM: Quality over quantity. Spirit and matter are one. All things are potentially sacred. Matter, Nature and the body are considered things to be celebrated and enjoyed. We can delight in our own being since we are matter and body. Spirit and soul are restored to their rightful place – they do not even need to be considered supernatural. Consciousness pervades all matter. Nature is considered co-operative and harmonious. The world is re-enchanted. Life is premised on abundance and celebration. Every person is a potential friend. We deal with others by seeking to multiply their gifts. Life is a plus-sum game. What’s good for me is good for others. There is commons not enclosure. Commons are managed through gifting, not transaction. Rationality is balanced by emotional intelligence and by listening to the insights of the heart. Thus wisdom. Meaning and purpose are integral to all we do, even though this often defies rational explanation. All life is art so the paradigm is premised on creativity. All questions are theological. The feminine is exalted. Life is premised on interbeing, intuition, spontaneity, connection, community and dependency. Before we can even begin to think about truth, or the stories we tell ourselves about truth, it’s important to recognise the kind of language we’re obliged to use in order to frame our ideas. Our language is almost inescapably oppositional – placing one thought in opposition to another, so things are ‘this’ rather than ‘that’, ‘here’ rather than ‘there’, matter not space, energy not mass, and so on. This style of language by which we frame all our thoughts lead to rhetoric, argument, dispute and ultimately to violence. It is the basis of hierarchy, of power, of transaction, the treatment of others as means rather than ends, the extraction of Nature. It might not even be possible to frame our language differently. So, if we are to formulate new stories of truth, Body, Nature, Cosmos, home and community, we are forced to use the old language. As such, much, if not all, of what can be said must be framed as paradox. Besides, the whole notion of having agency, autonomy and freedom is derived from us seeing ourselves as separate from the world. So, we might well ask – if we were able to conceive of a language that is not oppositional, then could we re-describe action in the world? Could we even act at all? Or could we act in the midst of paradox? Whilst I think that the alternative language and the alternative world-view – free from opposition, violence, transaction, instrumentalism and hierarchy – cannot be adequately described, except as paradox, I think it can be imagined. It’s rituals that could bring this re-imagining to life. Rituals could give substance to the new world that’s waiting to be brought forth. Of course it would take many books to fully explain both of these alternative views. And even then there’s so much we don’t know. But what’s important, I think, is the attitudes inherent in each paradigm. When we consider any particular question in life – such as communities, then we will often dip a little into new paradigm thinking – get a glimpse of the bigger picture - but then just as often step quickly back into our old paradigm ways. Partly, as you’ll probably note, dear reader, the new paradigm way of thinking is radical in the extreme! And this is why I urge those thinking of an intentional community to recognise it as a counter-culture. These things are not ‘solutions’ in terms of the old paradigm. And a mixture of old and new thinking won’t really work. The old paradigm solutions are transactional, managerial, rational, cost-benefit analysis solutions. The new paradigm is about trust, gifting, celebrating, connecting and very often not trying to ‘solve’ things by rational means. This is not to say that old paradigm solutions will not work – it’s not even to say that we should not labour sometimes within old paradigm ways – especially when trying to solve immediate and pressing problems. But what I’ve said above is also the reason why, so often, the ‘answer’ to the world’s really big problems – war, climate change, loss of bio-diversity, pollution, the need for a better politics – all come down to a CHANGE IN CONSCIOUSNESS. Only a radical shift will, I believe, work for us and the planet in the long-term. That’s the new paradigm and that’s what longing for the commons is really about.