Leadership and the Collapse of Complexity

We are not the first leaders to be stewarding a time of disintegration, fear, and loss. But none of us has been prepared for where we are. If we are older, we honed our leadership skills in a time of growth and possibility, when change was in the air and everything seemed possible. New paradigms led to new processes; new processes of systems thinking and participation yielded great results. Growth seemed good, and even as we were increasingly aware of the suffering of those far from us, our lives kept moving forward in a good way. Many of us heard and responded to the cries of the world. We took on the work of addressing urgent problems of the environment, turbo capitalism, human rights, poverty, health, the marginalized and oppressed.

This is what I remember vividly about the world I lived and worked in before 9/11. I was hopeful we would change the world—an attitude I have long since rejected as a distraction and waste of energy. We were confident that change was possible. It was possible because we were talented, dedicated. and caring people, armed with new tools of systems thinking, wise about human motivation, trained in the skills of participation, listening, conversation, community building. As leaders, we were smart enough to figure things out, to organize and mobilize on behalf of worthy causes. We would create positive change. Without a doubt.

Do you remember this era of confidence and how it impacted you as a leader, citizen, parent, activist? (It’s easy for me: I only have to reread my earlier writings that exuded such confidence. I know I’m not romanticizing how I felt in that era.)

Then 9/11 happened and showed us where we were in the pattern of collapse. In Glubb’s stages, we are in the Age of Decadence, too self-absorbed or distractedly entertained to notice the impacts we are having on the greater world beyond ourselves. Feasting on empty superficial nutrients, we failed to notice what our lifestyles were costing others (and ourselves). The planet and many of its peoples were suffering from our insatiable habits. I don’t mean to simplify the complexity of issues that led to the 9/11 attacks, but one thing became crystal-clear: we are a civilization in collapse and the barbarians have moved in on us.

Human societies always arrive at this place. It begins when we grow too large to remain as a community of intimate relationships. We shift from the bonds of community to hierarchy; we organize into complex social relationships, with many different institutional structures and roles. Complexity increases as more roles and structures are created—this sociopolitical structure is the definition of complexity used to describe civilizations. Increasing differentiation leads to the need for controls; policies and regulations are necessary to make the many varied parts work together.

At some point, the complexity overwhelms the civilization. It can no longer afford to maintain the society it created. It can no longer feed the beast.

At this point, leaders desperate to maintain control do three stupid things, each intended to preserve their power. First, they engage in wars, which may rally patriotism but drain the budget and destroy lives. (The wars are paid through increased taxation of the lower classes and printing money.) Second, they buy off the populace with meaningless entertainments, entitlements, and promises that can never be kept. Third, they create a false sense of reality by inflating the economy. The true costs of resources are masked by printing money, offering loose credit, and taking a deliberate economic approach that creates a false sense of prosperity.

Those who direct the affairs of a mature civilization are engaged in a war against reality that they cannot win, because a series of insidious transformations has rendered the society dysfunctional and ungovernable.

William Ophuls

As good leaders, not stupid ones, we may be fully aware of what’s going on, how economic and social policies are failing to solve our problems, increasing people’s anger and alienation; we may even be fearing social revolt.¹ But again, I want to remind you that what you just read is true of all civilizations, not just ours. We are not the first to be here. We cannot fix this disaster by our own leadership, no matter how good and sane we are.

A society has collapsed when it displays a rapid, significant loss of an established level of sociopolitical complexity. Collapse is the sudden simplification of complexity, the loss of institutions and ways of life that depend on complex systems to do their work, deliver services, transport goods. (Y2K was based on the scenario of total systems collapse when global computer systems were projected to stop functioning at midnight 2000 from programs that could not deal with a four-digit year, but collapse was avoided by intensive remediation of computer systems.) While collapse affects all spheres of human endeavor, it is primarily a fundamental failure in the social and political spheres. The loss of capacity is quite rapid as the failures of interlocking systems create a cascade effect.

The loss of complex systems pushes people back on their own resources; they retreat into clans and ethnicities. Historically, people revert to the worst human behaviors, struggling to survive such great dislocation. A few people step forward to do what they can, acting heroically and embodying the qualities of compassion and insight.

Now, who do you choose to be as a leader for this time?

The Shambhala Warriors

There comes a time when all life on Earth is in danger.

Great barbarian powers have arisen.

Although these powers spend their wealth

in preparations to annihilate one another,

they have much in common:

Weapons of unfathomable destructive power,

and technologies that lay waste our world.

In this era when the future of sentient life hangs by the

frailest of threads, the kingdom of Shambhala emerges.²

The kingdom of Shambhala describes an enlightened people, whether as fact or myth, in far distant history. At the time described in this prophecy, the warriors come forth. According to Tibetan teachers, that time is now.

The warriors are well positioned; they are working within the halls of power, so they know how these systems work. They see clearly how the practices and ambitions of these systems are deadening the human spirit and threatening all of life. They recognize that these destructive practices are the result of wrong thinking. Therefore, they can be dismantled by the human mind as well.

The Warriors are armed with only two weapons: compassion and insight. They are peaceful warriors, vowing to never use aggression or fear to accomplish their ends.

As Sir John Glubb noted, without naming them this, spiritual warriors always arise during collapse: “While despair might permeate the greater part of the nation, others achieved a new realization of the fact that only readiness for self-sacrifice could enable a community to survive. Some of the greatest saints in history lived in times of national decadence, raising the banner of duty and service against the flood of depravity and despair.”