Five years ago, we found ourselves on the brink of lockdown, staring into a future filled with uncertainty. It was a time when our usual ways of managing life—thriving, coping, pushing ourselves to the brink—were abruptly interrupted by an existential threat unlike any we’d experienced before. Those months were a rollercoaster of emotions: collective and personal grief over immense loss, anger and confusion over the strict measures put in place, lifted, and then reinstated, alongside the exhaustion from maintaining essential public services. Yet, amidst this turmoil, there was an unexpected sense of excitement at the uncharted opportunities that began to unfold. With clearer skies and quieter streets, we had more time and a newly found awareness of what and who truly mattered, both individually and collectively. This period even sparked tentative growth in spiritual reflection.
Despite this, our tendency to overlook lessons from crises is bafflingly strong, as evidenced post-2008 financial crash. After several years of turmoil and rhetoric, we find ourselves reverting to old habits. We’ve developed a selective deafness to international crises, whether environmental or health-related, and are locked in a frenzied determination to avoid being labeled “defeatist” about economic prospects. We’ve returned to glorifying “growth” as the ultimate national goal, egged on by global competition and the looming threat of ineffective trade wars.
In recent months, “anti-growth,” or being labeled a “nimby” or “naysayer,” has become one of society’s new taboos. Before we buy into our government’s current pitch that prioritizes growth above all else, it’s crucial to dissect what “growth” really means. What exactly are we aiming to cultivate?
The narrative slammed into us constantly suggests that growth demands no definition or defense. We’re lulled into a gangster-like mindset—echoing Edward G. Robinson’s character in the classic film Key Largo—believing that what we seek is simply “More.”
However, there are far more nuanced responses, reflective of real public aspirations, that potentially steer public policy. I’ve been collaborating with the Centre for the Understanding of Sustainable Prosperity (CUSP) under Prof. Tim Jackson at the University of Surrey, exploring these aspirations in extensive public discussions. Compelling evidence surfaces from these dialogues. Participants, representing a wide cross-section of social and economic backgrounds, agree: stable, thriving societies don’t emerge from growth for growth’s sake but from a clear sense of purpose about what growth should achieve. People desire reliable jobs, opportunities for constructive work-life balance, dependable public services, and affordable housing. Fundamentally, we seek resilience—a durable, trustworthy environment as opposed to perpetual anxiety. We crave room to breathe, both literally and metaphorically—a connection that’s no coincidence given “breath” and “spirit” share roots across languages.
In this light, “growing” an economy should mean enhancing our ability to support these ideals. When growth becomes divorced from the public good or environmental security, it’s a blueprint for disaster: personal and societal collapse, resource depletion, intensified competition, and staggering power disparities. And as illustrated by Donald Trump’s second presidency, one early victim of relentless localized growth, detached from reality, is the rule of law. Accountability falters both nationally and internationally.
Thus, hearing politicians, left-leaning ones included, who traditionally champion the ideals mentioned, speak of growth, demands scrutiny. What are we truly striving towards? It’s disturbing how little we hear from governments about building a society resilient enough to meet unprecedented challenges while maintaining our commitment to collective welfare and safety.
Unsettlingly, in today’s global landscape, “growth” often contradicts these shared responsibilities. The pursuit of profit erodes accountability; the gap between the workforce and decision-makers deepens alienation. Who exactly benefits from this? Likely those poised to profit the most. Transforming this into a case for growth that builds a robust tax base and encourages reinvestment into job creation seems worthwhile but challenging.
Research by the Common Sense Policy Group, involving notable figures like Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson—authors of the influential book The Spirit Level—aligns with CUSP’s findings. Public opinion reveals that most people lean more progressive than the centrist agenda political parties usually push. The evidence points to feasible policies capable of fostering resilience and wellbeing without relying on endless economic expansion: universal access to essential services, reduced working hours, and introducing taxes on carbon and wealth. These are not just idealistic dreams.
What if we commemorated the fifth anniversary of the initial lockdown with governmental speeches addressing the urgent need to dispel the myth of abstract growth? We should focus on articulating a vision of prosperity. This vision should not just measure success by economic metrics but recognize the deep-seated need for community, dignity, stability, and a worthwhile legacy for future generations. This shift could signal an ability to learn from past mistakes and suggest a government willing to forge a new consensus around security, respect, and hope.
