Generation All: Models for Tomorrow

Mauro F. Guillen tosses of ideas like a glitter gun, shiny an in many directions. A professor, scholar, theorist and public intellectual, his most recent book is The Perennials: The Megatrends Creating a Postgenerational Society. It is chock full of observations, data, theories and provocative asides. Pitched at the level of a business executive or perhaps an aspiring entrepreneur, the book is both easy to read and difficult to digest.

Guillen’s key argument weaves together demographics, deep shifts in work, technological shifts and policy. First, he explores how people society are living longer and are enjoying healthful life longer. That shifts the way that we think about work, retirement, and many life choices. He notes that there are changes in when women decide to start a family, what sort of family structure is sought, and the growth of intergenerational households. The nuclear family is a relatively recent innovation. Add to that mix the desire of more and more people to finds to ways to balance work, family, and pleasure. These all add up to broad societal shifts, Guillen stresses. He believes that the ways in which we think of generations (Boomers, Millennials, and so on), as well as their priorities and values, are becoming obsolete.

Interesting, isn’t it?

While the broad argument Guillen posits is very general, there is much to recommend in the “megatrends” he examines. For instance, he makes a strong claim for abandoning the “four stages of life” theory. That is play, study, work, and retire. It simply does not hold true for many people. However, much of our societal structure and expectations is grounded in this concept. Educational, housing, health and retirement policies immediately come to mind. Guillen shares data which indicates that the nuclear family ideal has peaked. As for how people make money, net job growth does not align with expected mindsets, either. The fastest demographic finding employment is now for those over the age of 60. Guillen looks closely at the many shifts in the lives of women, from career trajectories to different models of family.

The Perennials is built on a consistent structure. Guillen makes a provocative big picture observation and explores the concept, mixing research and good quotes and examples. The stories stick. However, one cannot help but wonder about the many factors and complications mixed through each big idea. Is the “megatrend” sustainable? For all or for some?

Education figures prominently in the book. Guillen sees many opportunities for higher education to provide new and different types of learning opportunities. One major shift he explores are means that might match older potential students with new jobs and careers. He rightly observes that demographic changes call for new models that many institutions of higher education have not created. Guillen is correct, too, in observing that mindsets, policies, practices and even laws limit new thinking about multigenerational thinking. Everything from funding models to course and program structures have roots in generational assumptions.

Spinning this out, The Perennials is the sort of book that leads to questions and imagined future. It also makes you wonder what Guillen would be like in the classroom, at the seminar table, or at a party. I would wager that he would be memorable, the kind that would inspire challenging ideas. Smart, eloquent, and with a striking ability to weave data points into potential big-picture ideas, Guillen’s The Perennials is a welcome and creative read.

David Potash

October 30, 2023 American Culture Today

Addressing Addresses the Illinois Way

Having moved house in Chicago recently, I decided that it would be prudent to update my address with the Department of Motor Vehicles. Neither a priority nor mandate, it was one of those tasks on the “to do” list, like vaccinations and getting the oil changed after 3,000 miles. The journey to a correct drivers license – and it most definitely was a journey – was an interesting experience in citizen-state interaction.

Updating the address for my vehicle registration was easily done, handled all on the web with a straightforward form to complete. A little more than a week later, the new registration arrived in the mail. A model of simplicity. It was a different story for the drivers license.

I prepared on the Illinois DMV website. It offers a template that illustrates the various types of acceptable documentation necessary to prove a new address for a drivers license. I printed it out, checked and rechecked, and determined that I was in good shape with my new vehicle registration and a new voter registration card. Next step was an in-person visit to a local DMV office.

A few years ago, during a financial crisis, Illinois closed several DMV offices. Accordingly, my choices of sites was somewhat limited. I found one reasonably close, though, and took a bike ride on a sunny Saturday to prove that I had a new address. Thirty minutes on the bicycle got me to the facility where I locked my bike and stood in line to talk with an official standing outside, directing people to different lines. Lots of folks were milling about, herded this way or that. The DMV official looked at me with surprise when I said that I wanted to update my address and I did not have an appointment. “You have to make an appointment! How didn’t you know this?” Somehow I missed that in my web preparations.

Later that day I logged into the DMV site and secured the next available slot at that site, only three weeks in the future. The morning of my visit, I checked out Google trips to see if it would be easier to drive or to bike. Ironically, the thirty-minute bike ride saved eleven minutes. I thought of the irony as I rode on the cloudy morning to the DMV.

When I arrived two officials were outside, directing the throng. When I stated that I had an appointment, showing the message on my phone, I was ushered in to a building. Not exactly like the VIP line at a club, but I was grateful. The first line had about eighteen people in it, all of us weaving back and forth to talk with one of several clerks at a counter. This initial function was set up to determine what task we were there to complete. Accordingly, I was next directed to the photo line, where I had but a short wait before getting an updated photo. The clerk indicated that I was looking pretty good for a cloudy morning.

From there, I was sent to a different line with but a short wait. The woman behind the desk looked at my documentation and commented that it was smart to have multiple documents. “You never know,” she opined. “It can be really difficult.”

We started talking. She’d worked for the DMV for many years. She liked the job, particularly because roles were rotated on a regular basis. Employees were cross-trained, from taking photos to doing driving tests. Most customers were well-behaved. Having the screeners out front helped, she said. That role was difficult. On the other hand, doing driving tests could be a lot of fun.

We were interrupted by a colleague. A few weeks back, an official from the Springfield Secretary of State’s Office visited. He had ideas, and the local employees were concerned. However, if you want to know why employee resignation has become a pressing issue in our workplace, it’s important to consider several factors.

A bit of background may help. For many years, Illinois’s Secretary of State was the charismatic Jesse White. He held the office for 24 years, deciding recently that seven terms was sufficient. White is a larger than life Illinois politico. A gifted athlete, White was a high-school stand out, a college phenom, and an Army veteran. He knew Martin Luther King, Jr., and in 1959 he created the Jesse White Tumblers, a group that has remained a staple at events around the state ever since. White was politically gifted, too, and he served in the state assembly and as Cook County Recorder of Deeds before becoming Secretary of State. For decades Jesse White has been a key figure in Illinois politics.

Stepping into White’s shoes has been Alexi Giannoulias. A financier with political ambitions, Giannoulias served as Illinois’s Treasurer before his election as Secretary of State. It has been clear, too, from the news that Giannoulias’s desire to advance and make a difference remains.

Back at the DMV site, employees were talking about this new initiative to dress them all in vests. The Springfield official decided that standard wear, along with name tags, would improve service and customer satisfaction. The employees on the other side of the counter were skeptical. On my side of the counter, I could not see how it would improve service. We talked a bit more about uniforms, working for larger systems, and office humor. I was sent to the next station.

The wait here was short. I presented my paperwork and was billed $5. With a little cash in my wallet, I paid and received a receipt. It was only a short step to the next station, where a clerk gathered my paperwork, reviewed it, and presented me with an updated paper drivers license. He punched a hole in my old drivers license, gave me both, and informed me that I would receive an updated license within two weeks. Six stations, many conversations, and I was on my way.

It’s been a week and I am still waiting for the updated license.

Jokes about DMV services aside, everyone I interacted with was pleasant, friendly and helpful. Fast or easy? Perhaps some room for improvement. But I have to give it to the staff – they made the visit memorable. I hope that the vests aren’t uncomfortable.

David Potash

Addendum

Recently had an opportunity to hear Secretary of State Giannoulias speak. He’s very, very impressive. Count me as a fan.

October 21, 2023 American Culture Today

Thick Democracy: In and Out of the Light

We would be well served by reading, or re-reading, Benjamin Barber’s Strong Democracy: Participatory Politics for a New Age. Yes, it is not a recent publication. That said, it’s as relevant as ever, perhaps even more so today than it was when first published nearly four decades ago.

Barber, who passed away in 2017, was a political scientist, a political theorist, and a scholar. He wrote important books, works that crossed the boundaries of academia into public discourse. Perhaps the best known is Jihad vs. McWorld, which grew out of an article for the Atlantic magazine. Barber was consistently interested in questions of democracy, human rights, and justice. No abstract idealist, Barber looked as those issues through the lens of power and economics.

Why Strong Democracy now? I recently learned of billionaire Jeff Bezos’s challenge to the team at the Washington Post shortly after he purchased the newspaper. He asked for a phrase that would make people want to buy a subscription. After multiple efforts, the tagline “Democracy Dies in Darkness” was proposed and adopted. I like the sound of it, but is it true? Light may be necessary, but is is enough? I would argue that there are many ailments attacking democracy and the absence of light is but one. The bright and shiny are not always healthy for us or for democratic values.

Barber’s book differentiates between “thin democracy” and “strong democracy.” Thin is about personal gain and personal profit. “Because liberal democracy makes an ideology of radical individualism, it depends heavily upon the idea of private property.” In other words, in thin democracy we think about ourselves, not the collective good. This comes with significant negative consequences. “Politics, more than nature, abhors a vacuum. Where citizens will not act, judges, bureaucrats, and finally thugs rush in.” Barber does not downplay the role of individual rights. He is committed. What he asserts, rightfully, I believe is that “individualism . . . has consistently underrated the human need for association, community, and species identification.” We have been increasingly living in that space. We want connection yet our society, our structures, our politics is about the individual. Lots of individual private goods do not necessarily make for a healthy public good.

Strong democracy, Barber asserts is about talking and listening to each other. It is grounded in “reasonableness” and the awareness that one’s perspective may not be as certain as one would like. If we listen to each other – truly listen – we will find ways to solve problems, get along, and help each other. “Good listeners may turn out to be bad lawyers, but they make adept citizens and excellent neighbors.”

Barber knows how to turn a great phrase. His prose is a joy to read.

The values advanced in Strong Democracy don’t support quick decisions by catch phrase or marketing tool. “By emphasizing the politics of common will and de-emphasizing the politics of brokered interests, strong democracy makes interaction, listening and common judgment the allies of civic and psychic integration.” Barber truly believes that “talk makes and remakes the world.” He is correct, if we can get out of our phones and away from our petty priorities, and decide to engage with with each other. If we do not, instead thinking only for ourselves and paying attention solely to those whose positions we already hold, society loses.

There’s an “expansive and generous understanding of citizenship – bound together by common interest” that emerges from Barber’s thinking. That’s hard to picture today, when our many media streams consistently harp and feed on dissent. However, it is still possible – if we take the time and we take care.

An optimistic message, to be sure, but it is one whose light still shows a path.

David Potash

October 16, 2023 American Culture Today

120 Years On – Still Gripping!

Widely considered one of the best spy novels of all time, The Riddle of the Sands remains a riveting read. I had difficulty putting it down. The book really engaged me in unexpected ways.

Penned in 1903 by Erskine Childers, The Riddle of the Sands was very popular in England before World War I. It became an international best seller and was read, too, by government officials. Some credit it with changing military strategy. The novel has remained a staple in the genre and has been made into movies and television.

The Riddle of the Sands was new to me. There are more than a few forgotten classics out there. Search those used book stores!

The story is told in the first person by a minor official in England’s foreign service office, their state department. An old friend, more acquaintance than confidant, contacts him about some duck hunting in the Baltic. Who would say no to a yachting holiday? However, it was no pleasure cruise. As truths unfold, we’re led into a complicated game of exploration, discovery and espionage. The characters are expertly drawn and there is anticipation as we all try to figure out what is and is not going on.

What sets the book apart is that it is extraordinarily grounded in detail, from the particulars of the ships to the description of places. I opened up my laptop several times to look up nautical terms and to map the action. While a work of fiction, there is nothing fantastical about it. It is still easy to trace what happens where. In all candor, though, I would need to spend significant time on a sailing ship to understand the sailing with the same degree of authenticity.

The author, Childers, is worthy of historical investigation and contemplation in his own right. A writer, soldier, explorer and lawyer, he led an extraordinary life of adventure, from work in Parliament to military service and honors. He sailed the Baltic several times. The novel was based, in part, on his direct experiences. Childers support of the British empire, strong in his early years, waned as he became an ever greater proponent of Irish nationalism. That led to his involvement in the Irish revolution and his execution. It was a hasty, brutish affair yet Childers, ever with presence, shook the hands of all of his executioners. Childers’ son, Erskine Hamilton Childers, would grow and later become president of Ireland.

Who could make this up? I certainly lack the imagination, so instead, I heartily recommend The Riddle of the Sands, a century plus page-turner.

David Potash

October 15, 2023 Reviews

King Does MacDonald – and More

Just like millions of other readers, I greatly enjoy curling up with Stephen King’s writing. While King may not always receive the critical accolades, many in the know appreciate his creativity, his skill and his extraordinary ability to tell fascinating stories. From what I’ve seen, other writers tend to appreciate King more than literary critics. In turn, I’ve read King writing about the many writers he admires. High on his list is John D. MacDonald. MacDonald wrote many different genres, but perhaps is best known for his Travis McGee mysteries, all of which are set in Florida. Count me as a fan.

Thoughts of McGee haunted my reading of Stephen King’s 2008 novel, Duma Key. A national best seller, Duma Key has sold untold copies and has been optioned for a move (though not yet made). It’s an extremely well-known book. I don’t know why it took so long for me to pick it up. Perhaps it is the 600 plus pages? It’s a very heavy tome to carry around?

There’s no real need to to review or report in general about the book. The plot is easy enough to find and King’s writing is solid, throughout. Perhaps it is not his most interesting or important work (who has read them all?), but Duma Key nevertheless resonated with me for two key reasons.

First, the main character in the novel is recovering from a life-threatening accident, having nearly died in a vehicular crash. Our hero lost his arm and is in pain throughout the book. The physical condition of our protagonist, his aches, pains and limitations, shape the narrative. In 1999, King was hit by car while walking on the side of a highway. He, too, nearly died. It wasn’t difficult to see King’s perspective and thoughts in Duma’s hero.

Second, while there is but one direct reference to MacDonald in the novel, his prose, his characters, and his asides are woven throughout Duma. This was the first of King’s books to be set in Florida. It also has the kind of semi-cynical asides and observations that are reminiscent of Travis McGee. I wondered: if John D. MacDonald were to try to write a Stephen King story, would it be like Duma Key? My sense is “yes.”

Duma borrows both King’s personal history and King’s admiration of John D. MacDonald. For these reasons – above and beyond the usual good horror writing from Stephen King – are more than enough to warrant picking up Duma Key. That is, of course, if you haven’t already read it.

And if you’re at it, don’t forget read some Travis McGee.

David Potash

October 11, 2023 Reviews

Writing and Laughing Through Tears

Hannah Pittard is a novelist, a successful writer, and a teacher at the University of Kentucky. She also knows, firsthand, hardship and heartbreak. Her marriage dissolved when her husband had an affair with the woman Pittard thought was her best friend. It was a double betrayal of epic proportions.

How does one make sense of the dissolution of a marriage? How can we take the all too common problems of a couple and render it into something special? Pittard takes that task to heart in We Are Too Many: A Memoir [Kind Of]. It is her story and also the stories of her ex-husband and ex-friend. Yet is it not non-fiction and it does not attempt to tell universal truths. The book works to imagine the friendships, the relationships, and the actions and the betrayals from multiple perspectives. She imagines her friend and ex, she questions her own narrative and understanding – and she does it in a pseudo-factual manner. The prose is akin to reporting. The result is an intrusive, somewhat uncomfortable look at lies, love, and relationships – friendships and marriage.

One observation, too, that rings true from Pittard’s closely watched observations. If her semi-reporting is close to what happened and what was said, then the novel makes a strong case for reminding all to think through the things that we do and say after drinking too much. The scenes at bars and restaurants, the times when the characters have tippled, have a painful awkwardness to them that hurts while ringing true.

It is also clear – at least from my perspective – that as painful as the experience may have been, Pittard is going to be OK. She is no romantic heroine, destined for weeping and isolation. A strong and insightful woman, she is processing and working things through. I admire her for putting this book together.

We Are Too Many is an intriguing read. I laughed, at times, but more often there was a sense of inevitability to it. We know – from the start – how things do not work out. That is not tragedy, but instead something more real, more everyday, and certain something familiar. Relationships can be painful and messy things.

David Potash

October 8, 2023 Reviews

Cadillac Desert

Non-fiction that makes you think is rare. Rarer still is a work non-fiction with legs that makes you think, decades after it was written. Marc Reisner’s 1986 environmental classic, Cadillac Desert: The American West and Its Disappearing Water is one of those exceptional works. Updated in 1993 and recently re-issued, it’s a massive tome, chock-filled with history, passion and a powerfully unique perspective on American history and development. Reisner writes with rage and urgency. While some things are very different in 2023 than they were in 1986, many of the same issues remain, shaped by the same history and forces. It remains an important and relevant book.

Reisner’s big picture approach starts with a fundamental fact that many Americans have ignored for decades: much of the western half of the United States has little rainfall and water. “Desert, semidesert, call it what you will,” Reisner stresses, the vast majority of the American west will never be changed simply because of limited water. Where there has been development – in Los Angeles, in Las Vegas, in the Imperial Valley – it has happened because of massive human effort. Each of these initiatives, many implemented by the Army Corps of Engineers and the Bureau of Reclamation, came with tremendous costs – and not just dollars. In fact, that is one of Cadillac Deserts big takeaways: the distribution of water in the American west has been about money and power, not conservation, common sense, or sound engineering. The book may be about the environment, but it’s even more about politics. He quite carefully chose the title of Chapter One: “A Country of Illusion.”

Some of the chapters in Cadillac Desert talk with each other, reinforcing a larger story. Others, though, stand on their own. These are set pieces, history framed with an angle. Reisner writes beautifully throughout, well-researched but miles away from pedantic. The chapter on the creation (or theft, depending upon your point of view) of Los Angeles’s water supply is a gem. Reisner highlights the deals, the contingencies and the ambition (naked and clothed) necessary to develop the city’s infrastructure. The book’s larger thread, a critical look at the Bureau of Reclamation, emerges in Chapter Three and again later. I had no idea of the tremendous push to build dams. It was extraordinary. The complicated history of the Colorado River is the backbone of one chapter, but it is a history that emerges again and again. The power and influence of the Army Corps on Engineers emerges in the work’s latter half. Founded during the Revolutionary War, the Army Corps’ impact on the west truly took off after World War II. They all wanted to build dams – for power, for irrigation, and for political capital. The eventual impact reshaped economics in the west, heavily subsidizing larger entities and reshaping politics. Larger than life characters drive the action. Floyd Dominy, for example, headed the Bureau of Reclamation, was a notorious womanizer and power broker. His leadership was essential in the decision to construct the Glen Canyon Dam and its progeny, Lake Powell, one of the largest man-made reservoirs on the planet when there’s consistent precipitation.

Digesting all of Cadillac Desert took time to process and think through. More than once, while going through a chapter, I reached for the laptop to gain a broader context on the issue at hand. Reisner’s history is far from dry. He has arguments to make, and while they sharpen the prose, they also raise questions and heighten curiosity. This is a book that will make you reconsider traditional history of American expansion and development in the west.

David Potash

September 5, 2023 Reviews

Pulling The Climate Thread

Most Americans are concerned about changes to the climate. The percentage of folks paying attention has been steadily climbing over the decades, in sync with rises in temperatures and episodes of extreme weather. So we now know more. But what can one individual do? Is it possible to be an informed “green” consumer, to live an ethical life that does not unduly contribute to climate change?

It’s an extraordinarily difficult question to answer as I learned in Tatiana Schlossberg‘s engaging book, Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have. Schlossberg is a science journalist who writes for the mainstream press and did a stint as an environmental reporter for the New York Times. Her first book, Inconspicuous Consumption is a rambling effort that nevertheless finds a way to strike home. It won awards and for good reasons. Schlossberg loves details and her cheerful curiosity that loves to dig deeper renders her a complete guide to gaining an appreciation of the complexity of modern life and its impact on the environment. She aims to inform and to do so in a way that does not overwhelm – all the while making sure that the reader appreciates the absence of easy solutions. That is a difficult and impressive line to walk.

The book is organized into four sections: Technology and the Internet; Food; Fashion, and Fuel. For each, Schlossberg writes in the first person, sometimes intimately, about her questions and the difficulty in untangling environmental issues from those of economics, culture, politics, business, history, and much more. The internet, as an example, can be an extraordinarily inefficient consumer of energy. Schlossberg provides some history (power lines following telegraph lines, which in turn were strung to follow the railroads) as well as laws, policies and economics that create our current state of affairs. That’s just the internet as a physical thing. Schlossberg moves beyond direct costs to explore internet consumption and delivery. This relative new way of shopping has led to all manner of changes – in business, in supply, in patterns of consumption. The number and cost of consumers returning goods has soared. Consumption extends to viewing, too, and I learned that Netflix accounts for 15% of all internet bandwidth.

Schlossberg researches “common sense” rules as well. For example, when it comes to food, buying local does not necessarily reduce the carbon footprint. Some foods are more “green” when they are single source and shipped large distances. Polyester and cotton are both made with significant back end energy costs. Pick the subject and Schlossberg effectively problematizes it, highlighting the deep interconnectedness and complexity of the modern economy.

While all that may feel overwhelming, a difficulty Schlossberg acknowledges up front, she also works to humanize her quest for better understanding. This is a book with many asides and direct appeals, from writer to reader. If she is stumped, she tells us – just as she lets us know when facts depress or intrigue her. There’s a cheerfulness to her account that is sometimes in conflict with the information she imparts. More than anything else, Schlossberg wants us to comprehend that climate change is about everything we do as humans. If we grasp this, we will be much farther along in talking about it, appreciate it, and be willing to look for answers about how to lead a more just life.

An ambitious agenda – and well worth considering.

David Potash

August 31, 2023 Reviews

Un-credentialed & Successful

Call me an optimist, a sucker for hope, advancement, and seeing people succeed. I find stories about a person’s growth and development to be inherently satisfying and consistently interesting. What’s more, when done well they offer insights and lessons.

Christopher Zara‘s book Uneducated has a telling subtitle: A Memoir of Flunking Out, Falling Apart, and Finding My Worth. It is a fascinating account of a man’s troubled childhood and difficulty journey to a professional career – all without a college degree.

Zara was born into a working class family in central New Jersey. His parents were neither particularly supportive nor attentive, and mental health issues compounded the author’s difficulties. Acting out in his teens, Zara was angry and confused. Kicked out of school, he was briefly institutionalized before moving into an un-moored decade of personal drift. Zara’s description of himself, the toxic environments he was drawn to (picture shaved heads and Doc Marten boots), and the underlying lack of direction speak to difficulties many face. Zara is far from unique in his rejection of school. He wanted something and did not know what. Why you should stop drinking became a critical consideration in his journey. While help with addiction was an essential step in Zara’s journey, he was able to earn a high school equivalency, progress, and health came slowly. Amidst the challenges, he discovered the importance of seeking support and finding the best rehab in UK, a crucial element in his path to recovery and self-discovery. Overcoming drug addiction and, eventually, his addiction to heroin were further challenges he had to confront. As Zara navigates the challenges of overcoming addiction and building a brighter future, the presence of the playground installation serves as a constant reminder of the possibilities for growth and joy that lie ahead. For more information on playground installation, check out this site at https://playground-installers.co.uk/. Additionally, you can find more resources on communication skills by checking out this site at https://www.primaryschoolresources.org.uk/outcome/communication. If you’re looking for guidance for your fast recovery, you can click here for more information about rehabilitation centers. For additional information, you can also find CBD anxiety relief. Moving to New York City and utilizing his language skills reshaped his life.

The key turning point, Zara writes, was an unpaid internship for a struggling show business publication with an abusive owner/boss. Eliding his lack of a college degree, Zara talks his way into the position and proves himself as a competent and dedicated employee. He struggles with impostor syndrome. Zara perseveres, gains more contacts, new positions and begins to write a book. There’s an “aw, shucks, I didn’t know ——-” throughout the book as a challenge/opportunity is identified and then overcome. It takes decades, tremendous discipline and an occasional break, but it happens. Zara writes a very successful book, becomes a well-known journalist, marries and finds stability and himself. Uneducated is his coming out, so to speak, about that journey.

Zara’s fears of not getting the interview, not making it past HR without a college degree are well founded. We don’t seem to have a good reasons for it as a society, but it persists nonetheless. Zara’s op ed piece in the NY Times concisely spells out the consequences of bias against those without a college degree. What he does not examine fully, though, is that a degree alone does not necessarily open doors. What institution, what major, what degree are other important parts of the equation. Community college graduates more often than not only list their baccalaureate institution. Public institution degree holders often feel inadequate around Ivy League alumni. Organizations and rules to determine and allocate status is a big part of how societies and cultures operate. Status drives assumptions, opportunities, and much more of our lives that we are comfortable admitting.

What I found most interesting about the memoir was Zara’s terrific smarts – he’s a wildly clever and creative man – and his avoidance of the distinction between learning and credentials. He did not attend college but in no way does that mean he is uneducated. What he lacks formal education and a credential. These are very different things. Most of us in education are well aware of the difference. Had I had a chance to talk about the book with Zara, I would have suggested “Uncredentialed” as a more appropriate title. The man has experienced quite the education indeed.

David Potash

July 9, 2023 American Culture Today

Pushing the Boundaries

Most of us follow the rules. For those that don’t, the results usually are not all that good. It’s the rare person who makes their own rules, lives life as they want to, and leaves a meaningful legacy. Douglas Tompkins was one of those special individuals. Jonathan Franklin‘s biography, A Wild Idea, provides an fascinating account of this complicated and larger than life figure. Tompkins impact was across sectors, and culture, and remains important today.

Tompkins was born on the east coast during World War II in an upper middle class family. Athletically gifted and a trouble maker, he was tossed out of prep school for misbehavior. Tompkins followed his interests: skiing and climbing. He was exceptionally gifted at both and without an injury, might have been a member of the US national ski team. Tompkins focused on climbing and he excelled. His explorations and outdoor feats were taking place, too, when these passions were not celebrated in everyday American life. Sure there were families that camped – but extreme rock climbing? It was Tompkins’ life. He traveled the world, uninterested in material gain, and constantly tinkered with his climbing equipment.

Along the way, hitching a ride to Tahoe, a casino worked named Susie Russell gave him a lift. They hit it off, got married, and came up with the idea of putting together a store in San Francisco to sell outdoor equipment, especially to rock climbers. It seemed like a timely idea. All manner of San Francisco and cultural figures were part of their circle. For example, the Grateful Dead performed at the store. It’s name, by the way, was The North Face, a reference to the harder way to scale a mountain. It’s a multi-billion dollar global brand today.

The North Face’s success allowed Tompkins and Russell to sell their shares in the business. Their next moves were far from retirement. Tompkins pushed himself with ever greater outdoor challenges. Joined with several friends equally committed to exploration and endurance, he embarked on a six-month journey to South America. Amid many challenges and adventures, the focal point of the expedition was an extremely risky ascent of Mount Fitzroy in Patagonia.

Franklin’s telling of the trips and ascent is gripping. A fellow traveler made a movie of it all. It’s important to stress, too, that this was no solo effort. Among Tompkins travelers were Yvon Chouinard, the future founder of Patagonia, the global brand, and Dick Dorworth, one of America’s most famous ski racers and a noted author. The South American adventure sealed deep connections among all the participants and redirected Tompkins life. Extraordinary connections and friendships was simply part of Tompkins’ life. He had tremendous charisma and seemed to draw successful people to him. A Wild Idea is dotted with references to this celebrity, that political figure, that scientist or that activist.

Tompkins could also be extremely self-absorbed. He left his wife Susie to tend for herself and their new baby daughter when he went to Patagonia. This pattern, dropping all connections and responsibilities when he felt the urge to do something, was another part of this complicated man’s life. When Tompkins wanted to do something for himself, he did it. Amid the charm, he caused great harm and hurt for his family and friends. It is a short-coming that Franklin raises in the book but never fully addresses.

Susie, a very impressive woman in her own right, did not waste the opportunity while Tompkins was away. She started a clothing brand, Plane Jane, with a friend. They started selling clothes from a VW van and quickly found a market and a growing following. When Tompkins returned they became partners, along with Jane Tise, and changed the name of this company to Esprit. Its growth was extraordinary and by the 1980s, Esprit was worth billions. Much of its success stems from Tompkins role as chief designer, his obsessions and drive. He and his two partners crafted an extraordinary company. Franklin’s book goes deep into Esprit’s operating culture, unusual for its day but now recognizable from successful IT start ups. The company had an outsize impact on business theory as well as global fashion and design.

Tompkins, though, was neither happy nor satisfied. He sold his share and began to cast about for a new direction in his life. He divorced Susie – monogamy was not part of Tompkins’ lifestyle – and increasingly directed his life towards environmental efforts. More and more of his time was spent in Chile and Argentina, as Tompkins became a gifted bush pilot and sharpened his kayaking skills. He created The Foundation for Deep Ecology and a trust that later became the Tompkins Conservation. For the next decades of his life Tompkins aggressively pushed a conservation agenda, battled with all manner of politicos in South America, and built an extraordinary legacy as an environmentalist. South American politics and global political concerns were his for these years. It paid off. Because of Tompkins’ efforts, millions upon millions of acres in Chile and Argentina are now national parks, protected from development. His land purchases, strategy, commitment and foresight place him as one of the world’s most important figures in environmental protection.

While kayaking with friends in 2015 in a Chilean lake, a violent storm took Tompkins and his team by surprised. Tompkins fell into cold water and died from hypothermia.

Franklin’s respect and admiration for Tompkins shines from every page of this book. The author, it should be noted, is an American journalist and writer who moved to South America. His writing is often about courage under duress. Tompkins in many ways fits the bill, a man who consistently pushed himself to extremes. In other ways, Tompkins stands out as unusual character. He was a deep thinker, clearly extremely smart. His brilliance emerged through action. Tompkins was also many different things to many different people: boss, entrepreneur, dare devil, adventurer, environmentalist, and designer. Franklin does an outstanding job recounting what Tompkins did and his legacy. It is fascinating, though, that through it all there’s much of Tompkins that remains elusive. Franklin is challenged in explaining exactly, just who Tompkins was, or why he did what he did. It made me wonder if Tompkins really understood himself, either. He was quite an unusual man.

All told, A Wild Idea is a page-turning biography of a truly one of a kind person, Douglas Tompkins.

David Potash

July 3, 2023 American Culture Today