Reframing the Crisis – and Our Power to Change It (A Hopeful Response)

The world’s dominant economic mindset is on trial. A recent critique of the “Metacrisis Mindset” exposed how Western culture’s toxic fixation on exponential growth fuels overconsumption, ecological overshoot, and climate denial. The picture it paints is bleak: WEIRD societies (Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) are stuck chasing endless GDP growth at any cost. We’ve now spent over half a century in chronic ecological overshoot, treating our one Earth like it’s five. No wonder this entrenched mindset leaves many feeling paralyzed and hopeless.

But hope is not lost – not by a long shot. It’s time for a new vision that breaks through the paralysis. In this response, I want to turn that critique into a springboard for action. Let’s talk about “distributive capitalism” and the power of cooperatives as game-changers. By reimagining how we spend, save, and invest, we can flip the script from destructive growth-at-all-costs to regenerative shared prosperity. This isn’t pie-in-the-sky idealism; it’s a fierce, playfully bold optimism grounded in real-world examples and emerging movements. Buckle up – we’re about to journey from doom and gloom to a radical hope you can act on today.

Exponential Growth: The Toxic Logic We Must Unlearn

Western culture has long equated more with better. We’re taught that a “successful” economy is one that grows infinitely, year after year – an absurd notion on a finite planet. As economist Kate Raworth bluntly put it, the 20th-century idea that GDP should “go up forever” is insanity. Yet this insanity is embedded in everything from our holiday shopping frenzies to corporate boardrooms. We celebrate getting the most for the least – whether it’s snagging a Black Friday deal or squeezing supplier costs – with little thought to the hidden social and ecological price tag.

This exponential growth mindset is not just an economic theory; it’s a cultural trap. It’s in the relentless push for higher quarterly earnings, the expectation of bigger houses and cars, the way WEIRD economies define progress by consumption. We’ve built biases and business practices that perpetuate this logic, even as forests burn and ice caps melt. The reflective article highlighted two giant elephants in the room: overconsumption and overpopulation. Indeed, if everyone on Earth lived like the average American, we’d need about 5 Earths to sustain us. No billionaire’s Mars colony will change that math anytime soon.

It’s clear that endless growth economics is ecocidal. Using resources 1.7 times faster than Earth can regenerate is, by definition, a dead-end strategy. The “Metacrisis Mindset” is that collective state of denial – the delusion that we don’t need to profoundly change course. But here’s the good news: we can change course. To do it, we must unlearn the toxic logic that equates growth with goodness, and instead ask: Growth of what? For whom? At what cost? When growth comes at the expense of life-supporting ecosystems, it ceases to be progress at all. It’s time to adopt a new metric of success – one that measures health, equity, and sustainability, not just dollars circulating. Enter the heroes of our story: cooperatives and a new vision for capitalism itself.

Money Reimagined: Every Dollar as a Vote for Future We Want

Part of breaking free from the old mindset is shifting our relationship with money. Let’s face it: we’ve been conditioned to maximize personal gain – to get the most for the least. Hunt for the lowest prices, chase the highest returns, accumulate, repeat. But what has that gotten us? Cheap goods built to break, supply chains that exploit workers and pollute communities, investment portfolios tied up in fossil fuels and sweatshops. Our dollars often feed the very system that’s imperiling our future.

Now imagine flipping this around – seeing each dollar as a vote for the kind of world we want. This is the essence of distributive thinking: using every dollar to create the best outcomes for people and planet, not just the best bargain for ourselves. What does that look like in practice?

• As consumers, it means spending with intention. Every time you buy something, you’re funding a business model. So choose to buy from companies that are fair, sustainable, and community-focused. (Better yet, from a cooperative – more on those soon!) It might mean paying a bit more for ethically made goods that last, instead of the throwaway fast-fashion or gadget that ends up in a landfill next year. It’s the mindset of quality and impact over quantity.

• As savers and investors, it means putting our money where our values are. This could be moving your banking to a local credit union or community bank, where your deposits finance local businesses and neighbors’ mortgages instead of Wall Street speculation. It could mean shifting part of your retirement fund into an ESG (Environmental, Social, Governance) portfolio or community development financial institution. Or even investing in local renewable energy co-ops, community land trusts, and startups solving social challenges. Why leave all the investing to venture capitalists chasing unicorn profits? We the people can be venture catalysts for the common good.

• As citizens, it means demanding better choices. Our policies and tax dollars should incentivize sustainable, equitable economic activity – not subsidize pollution and inequality. For instance, pushing for green infrastructure and jobs programs (like those outlined in a Green New Deal) and for financial regulations that rein in reckless speculation while supporting community investment. It also means supporting measures that make ethical choices easier and cheaper (think: tax credits for renewable energy and electric co-op projects, or penalties for heavy carbon emitters).

Reimagining money in this way transforms it from a self-centered tool into an engine of change. Instead of asking “How can I get more for my dollar?”, the new question becomes “How can my dollar do more good?”. And here’s the exciting part – millions of people are already moving money in this direction, through things like fair trade purchasing, impact investing, and banking with mission-driven institutions. Every time you choose a product that’s Fair Trade or a B Corp, every time you deposit in a credit union or donate to a grassroots cause, you are voting against the metacrisis mindset and for a better future. These individual choices, scaled up, start bending the entire system toward justice.

Cooperatives: Radical, Practical Vehicles for Change

If “distributive capitalism” is the vision, then cooperatives are the working model that brings that vision to life. Cooperatives (or co-ops) are businesses owned and governed by the people they serve – whether workers, consumers, or community members. Far from being fringe experiments, they are thriving real-world enterprises that prove we can succeed by sharing power and profits more broadly. In a world weary of corporate greed and shareholder primacy, co-ops are a breath of fresh air – radical yet practical vehicles for systemic change from the inside out.

Consider some facts: One in three Americans is a member of a cooperative enterprise of some kind! Yes, you read that right – co-ops are not a niche; they’re everywhere once you start looking. Credit unions, for example, are co-op banks – and over 140 million Americans (about a third of the country) choose them for their banking needs. Rural electric cooperatives bring power to 42 million people across 47 states, literally keeping the lights on for vast swathes of the country. And there are 29,000+ cooperatives in the U.S. spanning every sector – from agriculture and retail to housing, healthcare, and industry. These co-ops together generate 2 million jobs, $650+ billion in revenue, and hold over $3 trillion in assets. In other words, the cooperative sector is already a heavyweight part of our economy – often quietly so, because co-ops don’t have billion-dollar ad budgets to tout their brand.

What makes cooperatives so powerful as change agents? Three big things:

1. They democratize wealth and power. In a co-op, the profits and decision-making aren’t confined to a few distant shareholders; they belong to the members. Whether it’s workers voting on business decisions or consumers receiving dividends (like REI co-op members getting an annual rebate), co-ops inherently practice economic democracy. This directly tackles inequality by design – instead of funneling wealth upward, co-ops distribute it among those who helped create it. For example, farmer co-ops allow family farms to band together and get a fair price and ownership in processing their products, rather than being at the mercy of a giant corporate buyer. Worker-owned companies give employees a share of the profits their labor produces. This shared ownership builds a middle class and community wealth in ways traditional companies often do not.

2. They foster local resilience. Because co-ops are owned by local stakeholders, they are rooted in their communities. They are less likely to uproot jobs and run off in search of the next tax break or cheap labor market. Instead, they tend to reinvest locally and stick around for the long haul. Studies show co-ops have lower failure rates and can weather economic storms better than conventional businesses. During the 2008 financial crisis and again during the COVID-19 pandemic, cooperative banks and businesses were stabilizing forces. Co-ops also multiply local impact – for instance, food co-op grocery stores pump more back into local farmers and suppliers on average than big-box retailers. They’re community anchors that keep wealth circulating nearby rather than siphoning it off to distant investors. Want a resilient hometown? Co-ops are a proven tool to get there.

3. They embody a values-driven ethos (people and planet over profit). Most co-ops operate under guiding principles that prioritize member benefit, education, cooperation among cooperatives, and concern for community. This often translates into more ethical practices – paying fair wages, sourcing sustainably, providing affordable services. Credit unions, for example, frequently offer better rates and lower fees precisely because they exist to serve members, not maximize profits. Many co-ops were founded explicitly to fill social needs the market failed: rural electricity in the 1930s, affordable housing, organic food distribution, etc. It’s baked into their DNA to consider social and environmental returns, not just financial. So when you support a co-op, you’re usually supporting a business that’s already doing the right thing without needing to be forced by regulation or public pressure.

Crucially, cooperatives show that we don’t have to wait for some top-down revolution to start building a new economy. They let us practice a fairer, post-growth economics right now, within the shell of the old system. Every new co-op or credit union or mutual aid network is like a seed of the future sprouting in the present. And history gives us inspiring examples of co-ops literally changing the game. Remember how I mentioned rural electric co-ops? In the 1930s, only 10% of rural American households had electricity – private utilities saw no profit in serving them. Farmers and neighbors organized cooperatives, got support from New Deal policy (loans, expertise), and pulled off a miracle: within a generation, they brought power to 90% of rural America. That’s millions of people lifted into the modern economy, thanks to cooperatives breaking through where pure capitalism failed. Talk about “system change from the inside”! Co-ops have been quietly revolutionary before – and they can be again, on everything from broadband access to clean energy.

What Is Distributive Capitalism? A Fair, Sustainable Vision

It’s time to put these pieces together into a compelling vision for our economy. Distributive capitalism is a term that captures the kind of economy we’re striving for: one that retains the dynamism and innovation of markets and enterprise, but fundamentally rewires them for fairness and sustainability. In a distributive capitalist system, wealth and value are widely shared (distributed) rather than concentrated, and the economy operates within biophysical limits instead of trashing the planet. Think of it as capitalism 2.0 – upgraded with an ethics and survival patch!

Key features of distributive capitalism include:

• Broad-based ownership and benefits: This means structures like cooperatives, employee stock ownership plans (ESOPs), community-owned trusts, and public ownership of essential services. Instead of a few owning the means of production and nearly all the gains, many people own slices of the pie. For instance, imagine if large corporations were required to share ownership with workers and communities – profits would circulate locally and inequality would shrink. Co-ops are a prime example here, as we’ve discussed. The richest 1% have captured half of all new wealth globally in the past decade; distributive capitalism flips that script so value created by all gets enjoyed by all.

• Embedded economic activity in community and ecology: Distributive capitalism localizes and regionalizes production where sensible, to reduce waste and strengthen communities. It prizes local resilience – shorter supply chains, local small businesses thriving, cities and towns with diversified economies. It also internalizes environmental costs instead of foisting them on the public. In practice, this could mean strong pollution limits, circular economy practices (reusing, recycling materials endlessly), and businesses being responsible for the full lifecycle of their products (so designing things to last and be repaired). It means acknowledging we have an ecological ceiling we must not overshoot, as Kate Raworth’s Doughnut Economics model illustrates.

The Doughnut economic model visualizes a safe space for humanity between an inner social foundation (where everyone’s basic needs are met) and an outer ecological ceiling (where we stay within planetary limits). This kind of balanced thinking is at the heart of distributive, sustainable capitalism, emphasizing thriving within our means rather than pursuing infinite growth.

• Regenerative and inclusive by design: A distributive capitalist economy doesn’t grow for growth’s sake; it grows opportunities and well-being in alignment with nature. It aims to regenerate ecosystems (e.g. shifting to agriculture that builds soil and restores landscapes, energy systems that run on renewables) and to rectify historical inequalities (e.g. investing in marginalized communities, ensuring everyone has access to health, education, and dignified work). Growth per se is not the goal – thriving is. If GDP goes up but so do homelessness and CO₂ levels, that’s failure. Conversely, if GDP is stable or even smaller, but poverty drops and forests expand, that’s success. It’s a profound shift from quantity to quality. In fact, many proponents of this vision, like the Degrowth movement, argue that high-consuming nations must deliberately scale down material throughput to avoid ecological collapse – while improving quality of life by sharing more and wasting less. Degrowth doesn’t mean deprivation; it means living better with less stuff. It aligns with what Indigenous wisdom and new economics alike teach: enoughness can feel better than endless more.

The beauty of distributive capitalism is that it’s not an oxymoron – it’s already emerging. We see pieces of it in doughnut cities (from Amsterdam to Portland) adopting Raworth’s framework to guide policy, measuring success in new ways. We see it in the explosion of interest in employee ownership and solidarity economy initiatives across the United States. Heck, even within Silicon Valley’s backyard, there’s a growing ecosystem of cooperative startups, open-source collaborations, and localist movements pushing back on the winner-take-all ethos. Thought leaders like Raworth and groups like the Degrowth community are no longer on the fringe; they’re informing urban planners, CEOs, and lawmakers about what a viable future economy could look like. It’s an economy that is “distributive by design”, meaning it naturally tends to share value, and “regenerative by design”, meaning it works with circular processes like nature.

In U.S. policy terms, distributive capitalism might translate into things like: stronger antitrust enforcement (to break up monopolies and spur local competition), tax incentives for co-ops and social enterprises, a federal jobs guarantee or universal basic income to ensure the social foundation, and investment in green infrastructure at every scale. Notably, even within recent legislation, we see glimmers: for example, the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022 set aside nearly $10 billion specifically to help rural electric cooperatives build out renewable energy – essentially backing community-owned utilities to lead the clean energy transition. That’s a small taste of what’s possible when policy starts aligning with a distributive, sustainable approach.

To sum it up: Distributive capitalism = sharing our economic pie more fairly, and baking that pie in an oven that doesn’t wreck the kitchen (Earth). It’s realizing that thriving within our means is not only necessary but exhilarating – it opens the door to innovation in quality of life, not just quantity of consumption. And far from stifling entrepreneurship, it could unleash the next generation of innovators who measure success in human and ecological well-being. This is our economic revolution to make.

Stop Waiting for Billionaire Saviors – Hope Lies in Collective Action

It’s time for some real talk about hope. Too often, we’ve been fed a delusional hope in tech billionaires – a shiny myth that a few genius titans will ride in on electric cars and rockets to save civilization. We hear things like: “Elon Musk will colonize Mars so humanity has a backup plan,” “Bill Gates is investing in miracle nuclear reactors and geoengineering,” “Jeff Bezos’s philanthropy will solve climate change.” Let’s be clear: pinning our future on the good graces of a handful of ultra-rich individuals is not only undemocratic, it’s a dangerous distraction. These men (and yes, they’re mostly men) are products of the very system that’s in crisis. In fact, billionaires as a class lead the world in per-capita carbon emissions – their private jets, mega-yachts, and resource-intensive lifestyles leave gigantic footprints. Relying on them to fix climate change is like trusting arsonists to put out a fire they started. Sure, some tech moguls donate to green causes, but often it’s a tiny fraction of their wealth – gestures that burnish their image while their companies carry on with business-as-usual. For example, one study found a person in the richest 0.1% of Americans emits more CO₂ in a single day than a person in the poorest 10% does in an entire decade. Let that sink in. The climate crisis is not going to be solved by the same hyper-inequality that helped drive it.

So where do we place our hope? In each other. In collective action, in ordinary people organizing for extraordinary change, in the power of the many over the few. History consistently shows that the great leaps forward – for democracy, for civil rights, for public health, for environmental protection – happen because people banded together from the ground up to demand and create change. Not because a billionaire wrote a check, but because millions raised their voices and rolled up their sleeves.

We see this groundswell everywhere today, if we only look beyond the media hype of billionaire saviors. It’s in the youth climate strikes that have galvanized policy conversations worldwide. It’s in indigenous leaders and local communities halting pipelines and protecting forests. It’s in workers at companies like Starbucks and Amazon unionizing to claim a fairer share of the pie. It’s in the explosive growth of mutual aid networks during the pandemic, neighbors helping neighbors when official systems faltered. And it’s very much in the cooperative movement we’ve been spotlighting – tens of thousands of co-ops where people are taking back control of their economic destiny, together.

Grounded hope looks like this: citizens in towns and cities coming together to implement solutions, rather than waiting for a Silicon Valley Messiah or a Washington miracle. For instance, community-owned solar farms are popping up across the country, letting groups of residents jointly invest in clean energy and reap the benefits. In Cleveland, the Evergreen Cooperatives have employees from low-income neighborhoods owning and running solar installation, urban farming, and laundry businesses – creating jobs and wealth where outside investors had long neglected. In Maine, a coalition of everyday folks just formed a statewide Cooperative Development Fund to seed new co-ops in areas like childcare and fishing, with support from credit unions and even forward-thinking legislators. These stories rarely make flashy headlines, but they are real hope in action – the kind that builds and builds.

Even on the intellectual and policy front, the heroes are collaborative movements, not lone geniuses. The Degrowth community, for example, is a network of scientists, activists, and citizens from around the world collectively exploring how societies can prosper with less. They host conferences, publish research, and engage with policymakers on strategies to scale down energy and resource use in wealthy countries in just and peaceful ways. Their work, alongside allies like Kate Raworth’s Doughnut Economics team, is influencing city budgets and national debates. It’s a group effort, spreading ideas whose time have come. In the U.S., thinkers are translating these ideas into our context – talking about a “Wellbeing Economy” or metrics like a Genuine Progress Indicator that could guide our nation beyond GDP. None of this comes from a single tech CEO’s whim; it bubbles up from academics, non-profits, community leaders, and forward-looking officials learning together.

The bottom line is, we are our own saviors. And that’s a far more empowering and realistic narrative than betting on billionaires. When people unite around shared values – whether in a cooperative business, a local climate task force, or a nationwide movement – we tap into a well of creativity and strength that no billionaire can match. One cooperative may seem small, one protest insignificant, one vote trivial – but woven together, they form the fabric of a new society emerging. That is where my optimism comes from: the palpable energy of millions of Americans (and billions globally) who are waking up to the realization that collective well-being is the new bottom line. We aren’t just participants in the economy; we are owners, designers, and changemakers in it. And as more of us embrace that role, the “metacrisis mindset” doesn’t stand a chance.

Uplifting a New American Dream (Degrowth and Doughnuts, USA-Style)

Let’s take a moment to imagine what embracing this new mindset could mean for the American Dream. For generations, the American Dream was sold as a suburban, hyper-individualist fantasy – big houses, two cars, endless consumption and convenience. It worked for a while (for some, at least), but it came at the cost of frayed communities, spiraling inequality, and a huge ecological footprint. Now, a new dream is taking shape, one that resonates with age-old ideals but updated for the 21st century. It’s a dream of thriving communities, not just thriving individuals. It’s about quality of life, not quantity of stuff. It’s about rekindling our sense of collective purpose and responsibility.

Picture an America where “success” means living in harmony with each other and with nature. City neighborhoods are green and walkable, with local businesses and co-ops providing for daily needs, and community gardens and solar panels aplenty. People work reasonable hours and have time to engage in civic life, creativity, and caring for one another. Measures like the Doughnut model guide city councils – for instance, ensuring every resident has housing, food, healthcare (the social foundation) while the city cuts carbon emissions to net zero and produces zero waste (staying within ecological ceiling). Instead of chasing ever-higher GDP, our leaders focus on metrics like how many people lifted out of poverty, how many rivers restored, how resilient our infrastructure is to climate shocks. Progress becomes tangible in the health of our families and ecosystems. This isn’t utopia – it’s aligned with concrete proposals in many policy platforms (from elements of the Green New Deal to local sustainability plans).

In this America, Kate Raworth would be as famous as Adam Smith – her ideas taught in every Econ 101 class. Kids would grow up learning about ecological footprints and cooperative business models as standard curriculum. Universities and think tanks (maybe even the mainstream ones like Oxford’s offshoot in the U.S.) would openly grapple with post-growth economics, no longer treating degrowth or distributional questions as taboo. The media would report not just stock market tickers but community well-being indices and climate goal progress as prime news. Culturally, we’d celebrate those who innovate to help communities and nature (teachers, nurses, renewable energy engineers, circular designers) at least as much as tech entrepreneurs or hedge fund wizards. The narrative of “who is a hero” would broaden dramatically.

And importantly, policy would catch up with public values. We’d see bold moves like banning planned obsolescence (so products last longer by law), implementing extended producer responsibility (so companies have to recycle their products), perhaps even experimenting with a universal basic income or job guarantee to ensure no one is left in desperation as we transition industries. Work co-determination (workers having seats on corporate boards) could become standard, as it is in parts of Europe – giving employees a voice and stake. Monopolies would be broken up, giving social enterprises and co-ops room to flourish and compete. The tax code could be shifted to tax resource use and pollution more, and income less – incentivizing frugality at the system level. And one day, who knows, maybe the U.S. will join New Zealand, Scotland, and others in a Wellbeing Economy Alliance, formally committing to post-GDP holistic progress.

These changes aren’t as far off as they sound. Many have seeds in current legislation or local experiments. What’s been missing is the collective will to tie it all together into a new national story. But that is forming now. Across red and blue states alike, people want good jobs and a clean environment, local control and global responsibility. Degrowth, when framed not as austerity but as prosperity through moderation, has surprisingly broad appeal. Who wouldn’t want less pollution, less stress, less waste, and more time for what matters? As author Vandana Shiva aptly puts it, we need to “un-grow” the parts of the economy that are destructive and grow the parts that are life-giving.” It’s really that simple.

So let’s uplift those American innovators and leaders already pointing the way. People like Kate Raworth, whose Doughnut Economics workshop at the Brooklyn Public Library last year drew a standing-room crowd of young professionals and city officials eager to apply it locally. Or the organizers of the North American Degrowth Conference who, just this year, brought together everyone from Appalachian farmers to Silicon Valley defectors to strategize a post-growth transition in the U.S. They are planting the seeds of a new American Dream that’s about thriving within limits, not denying they exist. And that dream is not at odds with our core values – it’s in line with the best of them. Fairness, self-reliance through community reliance, innovation for public good, and a deep respect for the land – aren’t these the ideals we cherish? Distributive capitalism and cooperative economics are just modern expressions of those old values.

Call to Action: Reclaim Your Financial Power and Build the Future

We’ve covered a lot of ground – from diagnosing the problem mindset to showcasing the solutions in motion. Now it boils down to you and me. What can we do, starting today, to be part of this economic metamorphosis? Here’s an empowering thought: you vote every day with your dollars, your labor, and your voice. It’s time to make those votes count for our collective future. Below are concrete actions to reclaim your financial agency and support systems rooted in shared prosperity and sustainability:

• Move Your Money: Shift your banking and investments to institutions that care. Consider joining a credit union (find one aligned with your community or profession) – you’ll become a member-owner and often get better rates while funding local development. If you have a retirement fund or savings, look into socially responsible investing options or funds that specifically back renewable energy, affordable housing, or minority-owned enterprises. Even switching your credit card to one from a community bank or a green fund makes a difference. Every dollar in a megabank or dirty fund is fueling the old model; every dollar in a mission-driven institution fuels the new.

• Buy Cooperative and Local: Next time you need groceries, hardware, or even outdoor gear, shop at a cooperative if there’s one nearby. Food co-ops and farmer’s markets connect you to local producers and often organic goods, strengthening local food systems. Supporting a co-op bookstore or artisan co-op means your money goes straight to creators and keeps culture alive. When it comes to big-ticket items, do some homework: find companies that are worker-owned or B-Corp certified, or at least family-run, versus faceless multinationals. Choosing who you give business to is one of the most powerful signals you send to the market. (Bonus: you often get better service and quality from values-driven enterprises!)

• Start or Join a Coop Initiative: Feeling entrepreneurial or craving community? Why not start a cooperative with like-minded folks to address a need you see? It could be as small as a neighborhood tool library (sharing rarely-used tools) or as ambitious as a worker-owned cooperative in your industry. There are organizations and resources to help you (the U.S. Federation of Worker Co-ops, local cooperative development centers, etc.). Or join existing ones: housing co-ops, childcare co-ops, and community-supported agriculture (CSA) co-ops are often looking for members. By participating, you’re not just a consumer, you’re a co-creator of a new economy.

• Support Policy Change: Use your voice as a citizen. Push your local, state, and federal representatives for policies that enable distributive, sustainable economics. For example, advocate for funding programs that help incubate co-ops and employee ownership conversions (several states have these bills in progress). Support environmental regulations and climate action – they help level the playing field for clean, community-based solutions. Lobby for updated success measures: ask your city to publish a well-being index or adopt doughnut-like goals. If you hear of a public bank initiative or a cooperative utility proposal, speak up in favor. Politicians do notice when voters talk about these things. And of course, vote with these issues in mind – elect leaders who get it, who see that empowering communities and respecting climate science is the path forward.

• Educate and Organize: Perhaps most importantly, spread the word. Share what you’ve learned with friends and family – not in a doom-and-gloom way, but in a look at these amazing solutions way. Host a book club around Doughnut Economics or a screening of a degrowth documentary. Start conversations about what real prosperity means at your workplace, your place of worship, your school. Join local chapters of groups focused on economic justice, climate justice, or the solidarity economy. When people find community in this work, skepticism turns into enthusiasm. We all need to see that others want this change too – so be the connector if you can. Hope is contagious, and so is courage.

The time to act is now. The old worldview is cracking under the weight of its contradictions – and that’s a good thing. We have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to reshape the dominant mindset of our society. By embracing distributive capitalism and cooperative values, we can replace exploitation with empowerment, scarcity mindset with abundance mindset (the kind that acknowledges enough for all), and apathy with action. This is fierce optimism in practice: not denying our challenges, but daring to envision and create something beautiful out of them.

So let’s get to it. Reclaim your financial power and wield it with purpose. Every choice matters, every coop membership, every conversation, every collective effort. We can break free of the Metacrisis Mindset and spark a transformation – an evolution of our economy and culture – that future generations will thank us for. The dominant narrative might have brought us to the brink, but our narrative, the people’s narrative, is just beginning. And in this story, together, we are the heroes.

Ready to join the revolution of shared prosperity? The first meeting is now, and you have a seat at the table. Let’s build this better world, one cooperative dollar and one hopeful action at a time. The future is truly in our hands.