It is easy to feel overwhelmed when we face a seeming torrent of irrationality fueled by fear, greed, entitlement, and other negative emotions. Until we remember, this is not new; it’s just louder and scarier examples of what sells our mass media daily.
The worst thing we can do is react to it.
The picture is of a quilt from the Gee’s Bend collection. It is another example, alongside Kintsugi and Yobitsugi, of the art of turning necessity and uncertainty into beauty, taking what’s available and working with it.
“Only a crisis - actual or perceived - produces real change. When that crisis occurs, the actions that are taken depend on the ideas that are lying around.
―Milton Friedman
We can include poetry, jazz, calligraphy, labyrith walking, wabi-sabi and the i-ching. They are all containers that we can use to hold what we are uncertain about, ask questions of it, get to know it, and form a relationship with it that enables us to move forward.
What they share is that they do not shout, nor do they hurry. They work to a different rhythm of time and will not be coerced or commanded.
They help us create stories that work for us from what we find lying around.
They do their work quietly until, at some point, we realise everything has changed.
They are all art forms, and art has always been deeply insurgent.
Amid the current confusion, we need artists at least as much as scientists.
What is certain is that throughout history, governments and institutions have feared artists because they make people think, feel, question and care, because art brings people together and creates conditions in which they can reach out to each other and, in doing so, make themselves more powerful. In its uncompromising capacity to synthesize heart and mind, personal reflection with political action, even at its darkest, political art whispers: you are not alone in thinking it doesn’t have to be this way.
Embracing Uncertainty.
Artists gather in what Gal Beckerman describes as “The Quiet Before”
It’s a quiet, reflective space — the calm before anything big begins. A time when ideas are still finding their shape, shared quietly between people who are thinking things through together. There’s no rush, no spotlight, just a steady exchange — blogs, conversations, notes — where thoughts are tested and slowly refined.
It’s not silence, but it is still. A space where doubt is allowed, and where thinking deeply matters more than being heard. It’s the slow build before the spark — when something new is taking root, just out of sight.
In a similar vein, Greg Satell in Cascades writes about “keystone” events that provide a place for these random, weakly connected ideas to gather and take form:
A keystone event is the moment when everything shifts — not always loud or dramatic, but unmistakably different. It’s when an idea that’s been bubbling under finally breaks the surface and starts to move people. Something happens — a speech, a protest, a product launch, a court ruling — and suddenly the cause has shape, urgency, and momentum.
It doesn’t create the movement on its own. The groundwork’s already been laid — quiet planning, small wins, deep conversations. But this is the moment that brings it all into focus. It draws attention, forces a choice, and invites others to act.
It’s a turning point. After it, things don’t go back to how they were.
With the American Administration’s tariff-powered efforts to go “Back to the Future”, what is happening now is nothing if not a keystone event. It is breaking, probably has broken, all the strong ties that brought it to where it is today, giving the weak ties centre stage.
It has given us a crisis; our job is to create something better from the ideas we find lying around.
“Modest, but not Trivial”
This is a line from
’s book that caught my attention. I think it describes beautifully what is asked of us now. The big organisations that have fed so well off the economy we have built will find it difficult to respond to what is happening. As I wrote earlier, they are caught in what describes as the exponential gap:The exponential gap is the growing space between fast-moving technology and the slower pace of everything else — our laws, institutions, habits, and ways of thinking. While tech moves in leaps, doubling in power and reach, the rest of society lags behind, trying to catch up.
It’s not just about speed — it’s about mismatch. What we build outpaces how we live with it. So we end up with systems that aren’t ready, rules that don’t fit, and people who feel left behind.
It’s a widening gap that creates tension — and unless we bridge it, that tension turns into friction, confusion, even backlash.
However, the keystone event described above makes this not just about technology, but about our relationship with it. We don’t know exactly what it will look like, but we can feel it.
Back to Greg Satell, and his idea of “Cascades”:
Cascades are how big change spreads — not top-down, but person to person, like a ripple turning into a wave. One person takes a step, then another, and soon it starts to move fast, as more people see others doing it and decide to join in.
It’s not about shouting the loudest — it’s about building trust, finding shared values, and creating the conditions where people feel safe to act. At first, it might look small. But once it tips, the momentum builds on its own.
It’s how movements grow — not all at once, but through steady, contagious action that reaches a point where it can’t be stopped.
Cascades are not created from big ideas or grand sweeping actions. They are created in the same way as the quilt at the heading - from many modest pieces, the ideas lying around, brought together in company through individual artistry to create something far from trivial.
The ideas we need are modest, but not trivial. They are to be found in conversations in small groups, unhurried and unpressured, just waiting to be included in something bigger.
There’s a famous Margaret Mead quotation:
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed individuals can change the world. In fact, it's the only thing that ever has."
It seems like a fitting end to this post.
Have a wonderful Easter.
Every Wednesday at 5:00 pm UK, I host a call on Zoom for members of our Might Network where we share modest, but not trivial ideas in search of connection. If you’d like to join us, drop me a line:
I’m curious what inspired you to include a quote by “Milton the Merciless”, but then again, those who still believe in the doctrine of neoliberalism are also seeking certainty and predictability in this present moment. Neoliberals are human too, though I’ve yet to meet anyone who identifies as such a beast. A reason behind my recommendation of “Making Sense of Chaos”.