I laboured over publishing this. I’ve taken weeks of conversations, information gathering, lots of reflection and a little writing that was mostly completed long before Hurricane Melissa formed. I just checked the news. 32 minutes ago, at time of publishing, Melissa has strengthened to a catastrophic Category 5 hurricane that is headed for Jamaica and Cuba. It has already impacted Haiti and the Dominican Republic (my deepest sympathies). While I worry about the lighter tone of some aspects of the piece, I hope they become effective metaphors that arrest attention and make the message more impactful to inspire committed and transformational support. I have added a section to highlight and honour the work and efforts of climate entrepreneurs from Jamaica as their island braces for the hurricane’s landfall later tonight or tomorrow morning. My heart goes out to the Northern Caribbean islands and all those impacted. I hope this piece inspires meaningful change. My prayers are with you.

The weather is being weird again. I’m sitting in my living room looking out at the flowering tree I planted a few years ago and not a single leaf is moving. The tree leans to the left, as do all the trees out here. The wind that blows across this hill is so strong that all the trees bow to her in submission. We never see her. She usually moves quietly, dancing with leaves, lifting fabrics, kissing and cooling faces. I love when she carries the sweet scent of fresh cut sugarcane on a summer night’s drive or the scent of molasses, rum and waste water on my morning beach walk.

“Palm trees are swaying, light winds are blowing, softly they sing their song,

To welcome you and yours to the island, this is where you belong.”

- Barbadian Folksong (learned by oral tradition)

The trade winds used to cool my island, and I could count on the delight of a light Caribbean breeze but not anymore! Today is a scorcher and Mother Earth’s wind is giving all of us “the silent treatment”. I’ll take her silence and sweat it out though, because anything is better than her fury unleashed.

Blowing Season

I recently had the opportunity to speak at Pratt Institute’s Earth Action Week and to deepen relationships with a thoughtful community of change-makers. All of my communities provide access to new worlds and ways of seeing and being. Through these connections (gratitude to Professor Mary McBride for the share) I learned of an art show in Canada where I was arrested by a line from a multimedia art piece. “The rainy season readies us, the blowing season carries us”.

Credit: “Detail of Deborah Jack, “the fecund, the lush and the salted land waits for a harvest… her people… ripe with promise, wait until the next blowing season” (2022) (photo Rea McNamara/Hyperallergic)”

https://hyperallergic.com/1033734/caribbean-artists-take-on-the-myth-of-tropical-escapism-remai-modern/?utm_source=ActiveCampaign&utm_medium=email&utm_content=Sonya%20Clark%20s%20Communal%20Tapestries%20%5BCorrected%5D&utm_campaign=D081425%20%28Copy%29

I immediately thought of hurricane season. I’d never heard of it referred to in this way… such a cute name, “Blowing Season”: it brings to mind birthday candles, cake and sprinkles, not the horrors of a Category 5. The wind in a hurricane is not the same night breeze I sang about in primary school. She blows out candles on a good day but puts out lights on a bad one.

Not long ago I sat on an upper verandah enjoying the night breeze, sounds of the sea, grasshoppers and the chatter of different island accents as I connected with friends, new and old, who I’d met at Carifesta XV. The conversation shifted to cities, industrialisation, innovation, climate change and our destruction of the planet. In the nonchalant, somewhat distracted and off-handed commentary that easy-going islanders have mastered, Trinidadian product designer, Arnaldo James quipped, “We’re not destroying the planet. We’re destroying our ability to live on her. Mama Earth go be fine. She would kill all of we first, tek she time and heal she-self. She go be fine.” (Arnaldo, I told you I’d quote you one day - look ting!).

How arrogant and ignorant we’ve been! To think we thought we could ever destroy the planet and come out the victors. Just as the trees are wise enough to bow to the wind, we might want to reconsider our bad behaviour, take her silent treatment as a warning and shape up.

What if Mother Earth Is Caribbean

Mother Earth behaves like an old-time Caribbean mother: “Hard-ears yuh wouldn’t hear, own way yuh gine feel.” She lives by that old Bajan proverb that preceded punishment or that followed the first howls of pain from children experiencing the natural consequences of disobedience: a cut from a fall out of a neighbour’s mango tree; a sore bottom from a tumble in the gully you weren’t supposed to be in.

Children feel the pain and are reminded that they brought this on themselves, even as she cleans up the cuts and scrapes and offers a drink of cold water to soothe the tears and hiccups. We, small islanders, did not anger Mama Earth the most or put the world in this position, but we will feel her wrath first. When she loses her temper, it’s “Peter pay for Paul, and Paul pay for all.” I told you, she’s Caribbean.

Climate Innovation: The “Bottom-stuffing” Mitigation

When faced with a furious, Caribbean mum of yester-year, excuses will not work because back chat is rude. Running is a bad idea; she will be angrier that we made her work to find us. The punishment is coming. Ask any “hard-ears” school-boy. He knows. We prepare to mitigate the worst by stuffing our bottoms (a little extra padding never hurt) and going to her in contrite submission. To borrow that metaphor, when preparing to face a furious Mama Earth, maybe our best hope in the region is in innovative approaches to climate mitigation. These kinds of innovations might help provide the padding needed to survive and recover from a good trouncing.

Musings of a mostly good little boy:

Dear Paul,

I’m deeply concerned about the situation that has evolved over the years (centuries?) in your zeal for the comforts of development and wealth at the expense of others and the angering of our Earth Mum. I’m not particularly happy about how this has played out and would like to gently encourage you to “address the mess”. We, the Peters, are doing the best we can and are encouraging of such efforts that help us all find a better path to development than the one you took. Additionally, please stop pissing off our Mother Earth!

With righteous indignation and fear of our pending trouncing, your dear brother, Peter.

The Global Innovation Index & The Caribbean

“Bottom-stuffing efforts” have been happening all over the region for many years. Yet, it may not be enough. One super storm can undo investments and everything gained over decades of development. The Global Innovation Index (GII) was published recently and the Caribbean is represented by 4 countries. After an 8-year absence from 2016-2024, my island of Barbados Ranked 84th out of 139 economies in the 2025 rankings. Impact from initiatives such as the Oceana Innovation Hub, lead by Director, Che Greenidge, stand as beacons of hope for a flourishing future. The Dominican Republic ranked 97^th and Trinidad ranked 114th. Jamaica ranked 83rd, maintaining a streak of appearing on the GII in recent years. According to the World Intellectual Property Office (WIPO), in 2025, Jamaica performed better in innovation outputs than innovation inputs. Might this suggest that they are doing more with less?

Emerson John-Charles, vocal champion of innovation and ISO 56001 in Trinidad and Tobago noted, “The Global Innovation Index should not demoralize us; it should mobilize us. By moving from critics to champions of innovation, we can reshape our global narrative.”

Emerson John-Charles, Trinidad

Fellow member of the Caribbean Circle for Economics of Innovation

As published in guardian.co.tt

Honouring Jamaica’s Climate Innovators

Both long and short-term technology adoption are on the rise in Jamaica, which now leads the Caribbean on the Global Innovation Index, just one point ahead of Barbados. While Hurricane Melissa gathered force and shifted toward the island, the Caribbean Climate Innovation Center (CCIC), based in Kingston, Jamaica, was preparing to send its CEO, Carlinton Burrell, to Poland to join Jamaican climate entrepreneurs who won the CCIC ScaleItUp Accelerator.

Their work is a testament to innovative climate entrepreneurship in small island developing states. Despite lower innovation inputs and a well-known challenge in receiving global venture capital investment for the region’s cleantech entrepreneurs (read more at https://theislandsproject.org/), these 3 businesses are finding ways to move forward.

Towerfarms Limited, founded by John-Mark Clayton and Kerri-Anne Gray, advances vertical and urban farming to strengthen food security and resilience. Phinetic, founded by Joanna Anderson, designs solar-powered, biomimetic technologies that tackle desalination, potentially addressing water scarcity, food insecurity, and the wider challenges of climate change. Carbon Neutral Initiative Limited, led by Damani Thomas, champions Jamaica’s transition toward net-zero through sustainable energy (biofuel) and carbon-offset innovation.

Source: https://jamaica-gleaner.com/article/news/20251008/three-climate-entrepreneurs-represent-jamaica-europe

Beyond these ventures, a Compete Caribbean-supported Conch Cluster is paving the way for a future of sustainable and traceable seafood in Jamaica. The cluster recently earned certification under the globally recognised Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) standards. This achievement advances responsible marine resource management and economic opportunity for coastal communities.

Source: https://www.competecaribbean.org/jamaican-conch-cluster-achieves-msc-certification-paving-the-way-for-sustainable-seafood-excellence/#:~:text=Jamaican Conch Cluster Achieves MSC,Excellence - Compete Caribbean Partnership Facility

These and other initiatives inspire hope as innovation and sustainability meet practical action by local people, in a resource-constrained local context. They are a living testament to Jamaica’s valiant effort in shifting their climate-change story.

An Angry Mama Earth & A Call for Commitment

Yet, as Hurricane Melissa approaches, so much of that progress stands at risk. At this time of writing, Jamaica, the regional leader in Caribbean innovation, faces a hurricane capable of erasing gains that took decades to build. A single storm can undo years of development, investment and hard-earned growth. Beyond the ecological and economic toll, the threat to life, livelihood, education and emotional well-being across Jamaica and every island in Melissa’s path calls for compassion and decisive, collective action.

While urgent relief in the storm’s aftermath will be vital, evidence of committed care lies in proactive global commitment that goes beyond sympathy, thoughts and prayers to sustained action and systemic change.

Lasting commitment might look like patient capital and long-term investment for our small islands as we stand bravely on the frontlines of climate change, prepared to face our Earth Mother’s wrath. This supports real resilience, not just survival of the storm and its immediate aftermath. Meaningful commitment could look like the equitable global prioritisation of sustainable businesses and practices that enable both people and planet to flourish, recognising that not everyone has the same context or privileges to leverage. Commitment looks like thoughtful consideration in the AI race. Prioritising clean energy and the design of sustainable policies and systems, might come at the expense of speed. As the world chases AI breakthroughs and promotes widespread AI adoption, the energy required for expanding AI operations, as is, on an already feverish planet, is a cost far too high to ignore. We can do better.

“When we talk about the planetary tax of AI, we must account for its second-order effects, not just the energy it consumes, but the environmental & social systems it reshapes. Innovation without clear prioritisation risks becoming extraction. To truly measure its impact on the Caribbean, we must ask: Who pays? Who benefits? And what legacy are we coding into our future?”

— Brendan Heyck, Co-founder of Island Innovators, Grenada

Fellow member of the Caribbean Circle for Economics of Innovation

In this journey of transition, will we intentionally imagine and design better pathways to a preferred future? Will we remember to gain the consent of nature and check in with each other as we create, develop and grow? These answers matter.

Yard Lessons in Consent, Patience & Listening

At Carifesta XV, I listened to Barbadian designer, Israel Mapp, as he shared the Dutch word “Zoöp” and gave voice to life we don’t usually hear as he walked through the green courtyard at Union Collaborative. He showed footage carrying an abundant harvest of bananas from his urban regeneration project site in the capital city of Bridgetown where he listens to nature as she speaks. It reminded me of two trees in my yard that teach lessons in consent.

I was chatting with a friend in Antigua about this piece; the hot, still summer we’d experienced; and our fears of a storm brewing over the heated ocean. He mentioned that the old people in Antigua would tell you that unusual harvests (like out of season abundance) wasn’t a good sign. We both hoped the Caribbean might escape a bad hurricane season this year but his trees had issued their warning so we wait and pray for our sister islands.

My Daddy planted a sugar apple tree some years ago that stands just outside my front door. I look forward to the season every year. I picked one this morning at the end of October, very late in the season with a few more left for me to pick in November. The first time I harvested sugar apples myself (they were always given to me by people who knew when to pick them), I selected a few big ones that I thought might soon be ripe, based on their size. The green monkeys weren’t going to sit on my fence, cross their feet and boldly watch me while eating my sugar apples! No sir!

I put down the sugar apples and waited. Every single sugar apple turned black and rotted. I asked my neighbour, with whom I share the tree, and she said, “Yuh can’t pick sugar apples early. Dem would rot before they ripe.” She showed me how to watch, wait and pick them. I noted the lesson in consent, watched, waited for the fruit to open up and I now enjoy my sweet sugar apples (as do the monkeys). The Jamaican ackee tree I planted in the backyard offers a more advanced lesson in consent. Fortunately, I knew how to respect that tree and her fruit long before planting it. With that tree, she will poison and kill those who refuse to wait for her to show signs of readiness or who don’t respect her preferences for preparation.

We all want to enjoy life’s bounties; harvests, abundance and the sweet life aren’t only desired by agrarian societies. The global story of development has been humanity’s pursuit of a sweet life. Mistakes have been made. The Earth was not respected and her consent was not always sought. Will we watch, wait and be respectful of nature or, in our greed, will we fool ourselves into believing that we have the right and the power to snatch, grab and consume all we want, however and whenever we want?

On a good day, we might get off easy with just a “sugar-apple level warning” equivalent to rotting fruit. We might not get to enjoy all we wanted but we’re alright. But Jamaican ackee trees teach harder lessons with harsher consequences. As Caribbean ancestors tell us, “Hard ears, yuh wouldn’t hear, own way, yuh will feel.” If we don’t want to feel the unpleasant consequences, we should learn to listen. In the race for development, perhaps we confused power with permission. So many of us have mistaken dominance of the planet for partnership with her. She did not consent.

Maybe, if we learn to listen again to the trees in our yards (maybe the dwindling number of trees and yards is part of the problem) and to Mama Earth herself we might find that prosperity and positive innovation is really about regaining nature’s consent and cooperation. May we bow in respect and reverence like the trees on the hill where I live, ready to listen and design the futures that she and we will thrive in. Mama Earth, as sweet as she is, has quite a temper for which we are no match.

Flourishing futures aren’t utopias; they’re acts of remembering. They ask us to reimagine business not as extraction, but as care work, rooted in reciprocity with land, culture, and community. They begin the moment we decide to listen to Earth as a teacher, not an asset.

- Ondine Hogeboom, Founder/Director, Flourishing Startups

Part 1 of 4 | Rooted Rigour: How Memory & Culture Shape Better Strategy

To navigate complexity, we need cultural confidence and the courage to shift perspective. That was the quiet provocation that informed my design approach when Flourish by Design was selected to facilitate the Staff Retreat of a multilateral’s Multi-Country Office serving Barbados and the Eastern Caribbean. It was here that our team introduced a strategic foresight tool rooted in Caribbean wisdom: Folksight™ helped to kick-off and close the day. But before I delve deeper into the retreat or the facilitation design, let me offer a different kind of beginning.

Reflection. Memory. History.

Toes in warm, powdery sand on a west coast beach in Barbados. The damp scent of decaying leaves while foraging for nutmegs in the forest of a Trinidadian cocoa estate. A dead iPhone and a makeshift outdoor shower with sun-warmed water spraying from holes in the cover of a suspended bottle on a tiny, uninhabited island off Antigua. Bonfires, copper-pot baths, and stories of steel donkeys, duppies, and dancing mokos. These vignettes are more than memories. They are layered experiences of place and culture that shape how I see and design.

In these remembered moments live the foundations of evolving Caribbean perspectives on innovation and development. As we reflect, reframe, and design with cultural confidence, we can generate tools, systems, and futures of real and relevant value from our region, for our region, and beyond.

Cultural Confidence: A Strategic Asset

A contextual understanding of our past stories and present realities, paired with the critical and creative thinking of professional strategic design disciplines, can help us create preferred future narratives and identify the mix of interventions needed to transition to them.

Some of the most important things I’ve created as a designer are informed by my experiences in both the Global North and Global South. From studies in literature and West Indian history to graphic design, design strategy, and the economics of innovation; through practice across academic, public, private, nonprofit, and independent spaces, my capacity to shape culturally informed tools was being forged long before I had the language to name it.

Though I left the formal path of studying history and literature, their legacy came with me. I carried the analytical instincts of literature into design research and design practice. I brought a structural awareness of past and present stories, societies and economies to inform future-shaping design strategies.

“Rather than thinking of the past as romantic or nostalgic, traditional and/or local knowledge, oral history, and land-based know-how offer vital perspectives from which to rethink design, while suggesting new perspectives regarding many of the complex problems of the present time.”

- The Future of Pluriversal Design Education, P. 18

Part 2 of 4 | Folksight™: A Caribbean Tool for Seeing Differently

Folksight™: Where Design and Story Intersect

This foundation in literature and history, design and strategy, the Global North and Global South, gave rise to Folksight™, a tool where history, storytelling, and strategic design collide and culture, folklore, and foresight combine. Rooted in design management and Caribbean cultural intelligence, these lenses help individuals and organisations shift perspective and act with greater care. They support clarity, challenge assumptions, and inspire strategic direction.

Belonging to the Flourish Design Strategy & Innovation Toolkit™, Folksight™ is both gamified and serious, a design tool with regional roots and global relevance. Most design tools are shaped by the cultures and priorities of the places they’re developed. That’s natural. But when we, in the Caribbean, only borrow frameworks from elsewhere, we ignore our context, overlook our perspectives, and limit the futures we can imagine and build. To build futures that work for us, we need both and must also design from within our own intelligence.

Folksight™ evolves from our context, integrates proven design methods, and reclaims narrative power. It reminds us that we, the descendants of the indigenous, enslaved, and indentured, hold intelligence and insight urgently needed, both locally and globally.

We who stand on the frontlines of climate change, at the intersection of globalised industrialisation gone wrong and ancestral knowledge systems that, though interrupted, still pulse with relevance, we carry wisdom that can shape solutions and restore what’s been lost. This vantage point offers clarity, range, and experiential depth.

Makeshift showers with solar-heated water on uninhabited islands with no electricity; internet-empowered i-phones and digital tech with everything conveniently a click away: These experiences are worlds apart. Yet, we may exist fully in both worlds and must tap into the best wisdom from both to solve our complex problems. Flourish by Design is working to harmonise knowledge and wisdom from both worlds into structured methods for collaborative action and transformative, sustainable change.

“This definition of territory implies looking at the socio-technical system in which we live, and which we contribute to produce, also in terms of its natural and cultural history. It means acknowledging that although its character and its identity are human constructs, they actually existed long before each of us and will continue to exist after our lifetime… we must consider all the characteristics of ecosystems, even those that are of no apparent use to us human beings; …this way of looking at things is indispensable when we realise that our planet is not something to be used but an ecosystem to be respected and safe-guarded.”

— Ezio Manzini Design When Everybody Designs: An Introduction to Design for Social Innovation. p.193, 194.

Part 3 of 4 | Design Thinking with Cultural Depth: Lessons from Flourish by Design’s Facilitation of a Multilateral’s Staff Retreat for a Multi-Country Office Serving Barbados and the Eastern Caribbean

Shifting Perspective: Design Disciplines to Design Thinking

In traditional design disciplines, professional designers often assume another lens, consciously or not. Sometimes it’s for empathy, sometimes for strategic insight, always to see more clearly.

A visual communication designer might consider: “My grandmother would squint at this text. This needs to be more legible for seniors.” A design manager might wonder: “If Walt Disney were designing this, how would he infuse magic and delight?” Or, “If Sir Jonathan Ive were designing, how might this become more intuitive, streamlined, elevated?” “How might a child with mobility challenges experience this space? How might a client or prospective customer perceive the financial and environmental impact of this material choice?”

Folksight™ channels this instinctive design intelligence, helping anyone think like designers. It gives others access to some of what design disciplines train us to do: shift lenses to see differently, and then act with greater empathy and awareness.

“Design is an act of world creation… The Nobel laureate and computer scientist Herbert Simon defined design as changing existing situations to preferred ones. If we are designing for the future, shouldn’t we also seek to change it simultaneously? ”

— Lesley-Ann Noel & Stanford d.school, Design Social Change. P. 166

Design Thinking in Practice: Flourish by Design’s Facilitation of a Multilateral’s Staff Retreat

We selected Caribbean lenses from our Folksight™ suite, among other methods, to support facilitating the Staff Retreat of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) Multi-Country Office for Barbados and the Eastern Caribbean. We introduced the characters without explaining every storied detail and let the lenses do their work: expand perception, provoke insight, and shift perspectives while imagining the future.

Among the lenses we introduced were Tanty, and Mama Dlo & Papa Bois.

Tanty isn’t drawn from traditional folklore, but her cultural presence is unmistakable; her influence is unmatched; her warmth and healing are legendary. With her level of soft power, she must be magical, so she belongs in our lineup.

Mama Dlo & Papa Bois, on the other hand, come from oral folklore, especially in islands with some French-colonial history. In some stories, Mama Dlo guards the waters and punishes people who wash upstream because their actions pollute and poison the water that flows downstream. Their inconsiderate behaviour is not taken lightly. In some stories, she and Papa Bois, who protects the forests and wildlife, are a couple so we paired them with each other as ecological and ethical Earthkeepers who preserve and protect life and balance.

More than metaphors, these lenses offer real frameworks for shaping strategy across sustainable businesses, governments and developmental agencies. They help us ask better questions about care, community, responsibility, regulation, and limits. These have implications for environmental issues, social issues, governance and policy.

At the retreat, participants began by identifying with one lens. At the close, they were invited to connect with someone from a different lens. The futures we need won’t emerge from a single worldview. They require multiple intelligences, shared language, and design methods that honour vision and context and help us connect.

At the close, lenses became bridges and difference became advantage. In a region and world shaped by diversity and plurality, maybe we don’t need consensus to act, we need connection and clarity. Real world-changing cooperation and collaboration begins when we step outside our tribe and connect with others who don’t share our perspective.

Part 4 of 4 | What If Policy Had a Tanty? Rethinking Climate Strategy from Within

Climate Change, Strategic Design & the Futures We Must Build

Design decisions are not decoration but direction in problem-solving. In both design disciplines and strategic design, we curate initiatives and interventions to achieve coherent outcomes in systems.

Strategic design helps us imagine together, connecting what is, to what could be, and identifying what might change to get us there. We need that now more than ever. Development needs are rising. Inequality is deepening. Our Caribbean islands are battling climate change while lagging in innovation and facing complex funding challenges for driving climate innovation. Every hurricane lays waste to more than land, it sets back economies, interrupts education, disrupts recovery and leaves economic and emotional scars for years to come.

Yet, our histories have taught us to adapt and reimagine. We learned to “Mek do” (make do with what was available) and made our “mek do” solutions iconic (let’s talk about aesthetic philosophy and Caribbean history, culture and style another time). The Caribbean is not just vulnerable, we are visionary. We must reflect, remember and reimagine in order to evolve and innovate our way out of crisis. Our cultures are archives of innovation and inspiration.

“Within the design discipline, there has been a growing attention for the role of design in addressing societal issues. Once started as a discipline focusing on products and objects, later much more attention was given to services, processes, and networks, and the attention is currently shifting even more broadly to sustainability and the future.”

- Ingrid Mulder and Derk Loorbach, “Rethinking Design: A critical perspective to embrace societal challenges”; Can Design Catalyse the Great Transition? Papers from the Transition Design Symposium 2016, P. 18

What If Policy Had a Tanty?

As I wrote this piece and reflected on my past, our cultural histories, the lenses and the possibilities, I wondered, what if we reconsidered climate policies through a Mama Dlo & Papa Bois lens? Might we impose higher tax rates on those who “wash upstream”, whose actions poison what “flows downstream”? Rather than rely on lawsuits, might we design financial policy instruments that reward care and penalise harm? What if climate adaptation funding was designed around downstream ethics? Might we incentivise directly supporting the efforts of those who live “downstream”?

And what if climate policy took a Tanty lens, where inclusion and care for the everyday lived realities of different individuals was a system-level intervention? Policies sometimes favour those with disposable income to capitalise on climate investment opportunities. But what about those who cannot invest at all or those who can’t qualify for investment? Tanty might help clients/consumers cover the costs so that innovative climate entrepreneurs can earn and evolve their offerings while growing their business to investor-readiness. Tanty might see the grassroots innovator, the young student, the scientist and the design researcher as equally relevant in the same ecosystem. She might structure alternative in-kind investment or foster and fund cooperation alongside consultation.

In this time of crisis and complexity, we have an opportunity to do things differently, to bring the best of global economics of innovation and design research and thinking into conversation with local realities and inherited wisdoms, in ways that are not extractive but expansive and reciprocal, when we design from within.

Imagine what becomes possible when strategy is shaped by story, when rigour meets rootedness, and when design tools honour both context and culture. The Caribbean and the Global South hold lenses the world may not yet be used to but that offer essential insight for a world on fire.

“By reifying certain ideas, embodying certain assumptions and not giving a voice to others, design becomes a form of prediction about the future which can be self-fulfilling: design to some extent ‘creates’ the future which it predicts (whether it claims to do so or not)… Transition Design needs to emphasise complexity rather than shy away from it, to make it very clear that what is proposed are possibilities, and—perhaps—we may then benefit from the very same effect, by enabling multiple ways of doing things to flourish.”

- Dan Lockton, “Transition Lenses: Perspectives on futures, models and agency”; Can Design Catalyse the Great Transition? Papers from the Transition Design Symposium 2016, p.27,28.