I am not willing that this discussion should close without mention of the value of a true teacher. Give me a log hut with only a simple bench, Mark Hopkins on one end and I on the other, and you may have all the buildings, apparatus, and libraries without him.
James Abram Garfield (Address to Williams College)
The programming is, so to speak, on the wall. The modern university is being dissolved like other middlemen, paradigms of our time. Technology will make obsolete the use of real-world, physical campuses and all their accoutrements. Indeed, in time we will not have to leave our homes, but rather electronically transform our recreation room into a virtual-reality classroom, populated with desks, other enrolled students, an instructor - each of which is located remotely. In short - and in far more profound ways than exist now - the classroom will be coming to us. In this time, the current distance and on-line education programs championed by the modern university will strike us a quaint, but primitive; as snail-mail eventually did with the advent of email.
Alt U is consistent with this trend toward remote, virtual learning environments. In fact, an alternative professional governing arrangement, like that proposed by Alt U, is just what will be needed in the future. This is so since the notion of a centrally located, physical meeting area (e.g., a campus) is rapidly becoming a thing of the past - whether your enterprise involves office work, retail sales, or even medicine. An institution like, the University of Waterloo (Canada), will amount to nothing but a governing body, a logical/legal entity, to oversee its faculty - in many of the same ways indicated under Alt U.
We think it is time to be proactive and consciously construct this arrangement. In fact, the increasing introduction of remote and virtual learning environments helps to underscore the essential nature of PSE, as Alt U sees it. The essence of pedagogy is not larger and larger campuses, with broad, unnecessary, expensive peripheral services. It is, as Garfield says, nothing but a teacher and a student. This is the essential logic of learning, of PSE.
Indeed, if a modern university consisted of nothing more than a wooden plank then we might not see the need for an Alt U. But of course these non-profit institutions, these mass consumers of the public dollar, these complicated, semi-corporate funded (and so directed) entities are much more than a humble wooden plank. And in some instances they need to be. It would be very difficult to find the Higgs Boson with a plank constructed of any material you like.
But that does not mean that this is true of all areas of study, investigation, analysis, learning, and personal development in PSE. The acquisition of some forms of higher knowledge certainly requires expensive facilities to pursue. But equally true is that some, in fact many subjects that exist in the universities today, do not.
In early October of 1939, one month after Germany invaded Poland, British esotericist Dion Fortune sent a letter to her network announcing the start of a magical project to support the war effort by opening a channel to allow spiritual influences to uplift the “group mind” of the nation. The project came to be known as the “Magical Battle of Britain.” The letter contained instructions for a specific meditation practice that all members were asked to perform each Sunday from 12:15-12:30 p.m. and then again daily at any regular time of their choosing. A small group of experienced practitioners under Fortune’s guidance formed the focusing point for the meditation work, sitting in circle together each Sunday at Fortune’s home in London.
The meditations involved visualizing certain symbols believed to attract and focus spiritual forces that acted through them. Although the symbols were first created through the imagination, Fortune describes them “coming alive” early on in the group’s work, as though taking on independent forms that maintained themselves of their own accord and that developed organically over time. A set of symbols eventually emerged that were associated with key figures from the Arthurian tradition (King Arthur and Merlin) and from Christianity (Christ and Mary). It was understood that, through meditating on these symbols, the network helped to transmit to the collective British consciousness the archetypal ideals of chivalry and bravery associated with both Christianity and the myth of King Arthur, crucially strengthening the nation’s resolve during its hour of need. Because the myth created by the network was in deep harmony with the British national tradition, it was thought to have been especially accessible to the national mind. The theory was that individuals would pick up the ideas unconsciously and bring them to consciousness by thinking about them. Experts in various positions of influence would then give concrete expression to the ideals through action in the world. Indeed, Fortune claimed that the editorial pages of The Times—widely regarded at the time as the mirror of the national mind—came to give expression to the ideals of the work in a way that was “not only adequate but verbatim.”
Subtle Activism The Magical Battle of Britain is a striking example of what I call “subtle activism”— the use of spiritual or consciousness-based practices for collective (rather than individual) transformation. Subtle activism is a bridge between the inner world of spirituality and the outer world of activism (as normally conceived) that emphasizes the potential of spiritual practice to exert a subtle but crucial form of social influence. It arises from the recognition that there are many creative ways to support social change and that shifting collective consciousness lies at the heart of any successful campaign. History is replete with examples of victories by armies or social movements that were badly outmatched by their opponents in technology and size, yet which prevailed because they possessed the superior will. Subtle activism feeds the will of a social movement by making it more conscious of, and permeable to, profound evolutionary and spiritual currents that underlie it, adding deeper dimensions of meaning to the movement and inspiring greater levels of motivation and commitment among its participants. It works on the assumption that, beneath the appearance of separation, we are profoundly connected to each other at deeper levels of consciousness, and that the focused spiritual attention of even a relatively small group can subtly and positively affect the collective consciousness of an entire community, nation, or even species.(1) It is not a substitute for direct physical action, but it can play a vital role as part of a more integrative approach to social or planetary change.
While the “Magical Battle” example illustrates a western esoteric approach to subtle activism, it can be practiced in a variety of spiritual forms and traditions. A notable form that has emerged since Fortune’s time—facilitated by the development of the Internet, the growing global interfaith movement, and the increasing hybridization of spiritual traditions—is a global meditation event involving many thousands of people engaged in synchronized spiritual practice in different parts of the planet. In whatever way it is practiced, subtle activism can be seen as one of a growing number of creative spiritual responses to the challenges of our times that recognize the need to integrate the paths of inner and outer transformation.
Looking at our present moment, how might we engage in the practice of subtle activism to support the Occupy Movement and the broader movement for global transformation it represents?
Last week a Republican state legislator introduced a bill that would move the State of Virginia towards establishing a publicly-owned bank. Other state legislatures are also considering the idea.
The theory behind the proposal is that a state-owned bank would continue to extend credit even in economic downturns, in marked contrast to the behavior of private banks during the current recession. While a traditional bank is responsible ultimately to its shareholders, who demand maximum private returns, a publicly-owned bank would be responsible ultimately to the voting public.
What's so radical about Virginia's proposal?
Without considering whether Virginia's proposal is a good or bad idea, let us admit that it is certainly a radical proposal. From the 19th century, a central radical critique of bourgeois society has been that, despite the extension of universal suffrage (in a highly restricted and formalized iteration), the capitalist economy has remained profoundly undemocratic.
Among other offenses against democracy, capitalism leaves some of the most important decisions a society can make—the decisions of where to invest that society's accumulated economic surplus—in the hands of a small number of private capitalists. Radicals have long cried foul over the condition where, We, the People do not get to decide whether, for example, our society's pharmaceutical industry will focus on producing life-saving drugs, like tuberculosis treatments, or blockbuster lifestyle drugs, like Viagara. Maximizing returns for private shareholders, of course, dictates the latter. And under our current economic system that settles the matter.
In case you haven't heard the thunderous celebration by the North American climate movement, today the State Dept is set to outright reject the Keystone XL pipeline. #booyah
This is a reminder that people power works. Direct Action works. Social movements work. Grassroots organizing works. Lets take some time today to celebrate another huge victory.
Every time we win, it builds our resolve for the next fight. We know the fossil fuel industry owns Congress, and so far the Keystone XL campaign has been like playing Whack-A-Mole, or kinda like going to battle with a zombie who just won't die. There may yet be another stage of the fight, and there will definitely be other theaters of engagement heating up in the Tar Sands fights, like the Enbridge Northern Gateway. I'm confident we'll be ready to take em on. Moments like this help us remember our power, and that its worth all the headaches and stress of movement building. So lets keep winning.
If you're in DC, help build the momentum by joining 500 referees blowing the whistle on congress being soaked in big oil Jan 24th. Or this friday, you can join the J20 (January 20) #occupy actions all around the world mobilizing to take on dirty corporate interests. Here in the Bay Area we will be shutting down the SF financial district with nonviolent direct action (check out the hot Lady Gaga outreach flashmob video here).
Congratulations, climate movement. What a great way to kick off the new year, eh?
-- UPDATE -- since this morning we've gotten media coverage across the board from the New York Times to CNN, but my favorite headline of all of them is from Gawker: So Long, You Filthy Canadian Tar Pipeline!
Even before Liberty Plaza was raided many of us were asking what was next for Occupy Wall Street. The movement, we said, was about more than holding a space, even one in the heart of Manhattan's financial district. Occupation, I often heard, was a means, not an end, a tactic, not a target. The goal, from the beginning, was to do more than build an outdoor urban commune supported by donations solicited over the Internet. We wanted to discomfit the one percent, to interrupt their good times and impact their pocketbooks—or overthrow them entirely.
The dual threat of eviction and inclement weather meant next steps were never far from people's minds. The camp can't last forever, we'd say knowingly, while friends nodded in agreement. And yet, when the raid actually happened—when Bloomberg sent one thousand police officers dressed in riot gear, and paramilitary helicopters hovered overhead, when the entire encampment was hauled off to the garbage dump and half-asleep occupiers were dragged to jail—it was a shock. Circling the police barricades that night many of the faces I passed in the street looked stunned; some individuals crumpled on the sidewalk and wept. The loss of Liberty Plaza was experienced as just that—a real loss, a possibly profound one. By dawn photos began to circulate of the park, freshly power-washed, empty and gleaming, almost as though we had never been there, though the police ringing the periphery and the newly installed private security guards gave us away.
It usually starts with a lack of sleep. Then I notice I'm only eating carbohydrates, and mostly things which require less than 10 minutes to prepare. I find myself waking in the middle of the night to check my Blackberry, or worse, getting up to read and respond to emails at 3AM. Somehow my email will have strangely tripled in volume, seemingly without my noticing. I'll become nervous, kinda mean in meetings, prone to daydreaming, and tingly when I think about the object of my affection and obsession. Usually about 5 weeks in I wake up, joyful but tired, and realize I've done it all over again: in love with a campaign, I'm inevitably sliding into burnout.
Burnout is a risk in any field but it's especially prevalent in the social justice movement. There are lots of theories for this. Some think it's because we give more than we're ever given back. Others argue it's the working conditions--long hours, a lack of institutional support for self-care, or the tendency for nonprofits to take on more than they can accomplish. I think it's deeper than all that. As activists and organizers our role is to study where our society has failed and then generate creative solutions to fix it. We are students of violence, oppression, and harm. What most people spend their time tuning out we actively work to tune in. This can get depressing, especially when our gains might feel too minimal, or our efforts too small. Often we don't have a space to process our feelings about this, or we feel guilty for having them. Soon physical ailments appear and the stress gets the best of us. We no longer feel inspired and our work becomes stale, unoriginal, and brittle. It's a common story.
Sometimes it becomes a little too common. In my work at Occupy Wall Street I've noticed many people experiencing burnout, and felt myself compromise my own well-being in ways which are unsustainable and unjust. Like many I experience what E.B. White described so well: "I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day." Balancing these two needs is the chief tension in my existence.
As is now becoming consensus, the overwhelming feeling among those keeping tabs on Occupy Wall Street is that last week's Zuccotti eviction represents a significant turning point for the movement. (A good one, if you're an OWS supporter.) Invigorated and adrenalized, protesters stormed NYC streets and bridges along with their allies across the nation and the world in an impressive display of vitality. In the following days, as if on cue, an increasingly militant police force continued to feed its own developing narrative, highlighted by an utterly perplexing display at UC Davis of all places.
Now that the dust has settled and Occupy 2.0 is officially underway, it's time to reflect, starting with the encampments themselves. What was their value? Obviously, physical encampments were the essential incubators of the movement. Aside from providing the fertile ground necessary for the multifarious exchanges that would forge the ideological bedrock of the movement, camps were a physical representation of the most powerful message of OWS - a full-fledged rejection of the current zeitgeist. If the media wanted to cover it, they could. If interest groups wanted to try and co-opt it, they could try. If celebrities wanted to be seen, nothing stopped them. This wasn't about engaging any of the pre-existing institutions on their terms or seeking their acceptance. It was about creating a real alternative, with its own set of values, completely separate from them.
Occupy Wall Street celebrated its two-month anniversary by taking the streets of New York City in a full day of mass direct action. We celebrated the hundreds of occupations that have sprung up across the country and around the world. We celebrated the hundreds of thousands who have participated by marching, carrying out civil disobedience, and putting their bodies in motion. We celebrated the millions of people across the globe united in their willingness to join this movement in whatever ways they can. We celebrated in the many thousands in cities all around the world.
At the same time, much of the status quo goes on. New austerity measures are being passed right under our noses, the homeless remain without homes and the jobless without jobs, the wars carried out in our name continue, wealth goes on being concentrated further and further into a few hands at the expense of the many. And in the face of this movement rising in opposition, the state and capital have responded with violence both physical and ideological, intended to suppress demoralize us — camps being cleared out by riot police, organizers targeted for arrest, teeth and noses broken, kids and grandmothers pepper-sprayed.
It's only a drop in the bucket in comparison to the violence experienced in marginalized communities or at the hands of American imperialism, but it represents a critical moment in the development of this movement. It is not a coincidence. We are being taken seriously. Maybe we should be flattered.
We have been brought to this moment through the momentum of centuries of struggle and resistance, fighting to create alternatives to the accumulation of power and wealth by a minority who horde the resources of our finite planet for their personal profit and pleasure. Our so-called "modern" societies are intentionally structured to maintain deep imbalances of power in terms of race, gender, class, sexuality, and our natural environment. We've marched, voted, petitioned for laws, maxed out our credit, and played the game. But its naive to think that a government and economic system built with the blood of genocide and slavery would ever hear our cry. So we rose up, again and again and now we rise once more to continue the liberation of our minds and lives. This current moment of resistance is growing into a global movement devoted to reclaiming and building free societies.
Occupy Wall Street has captivated the global imagination. It began with the literal occupation of the heart of global capital, and, just as the arteries and veins of the system stretch to every part of our lives, so must our occupation. Liberty Square is just the beginning. We need a Liberty Square in every neighborhood in America for things to change! And by a Liberty Square in every hood, we mean strategic occupations that fundamentally challenge existing structures of power and create a forum for the community to address its own concerns, free from the corruption of exclusionary economics and elite government systems.
I reject the notion that this is a leaderless movement, because i know that the opposite is true. In the so-called West, we are socialized to play our position, marginalized to lanes of professional specialization, as if we are only as good as our job. But in this movement we are all leaders, no longer defined merely by our education, "profession", the things we can buy, or our contribution to the economy. This idea is given its greatest expression through the assembly process. The process of friends, neighbors and members of our broader community coming together in public space to engage in meaningful dialogue about the issues that matter most to us; this is what democracy looks like.
I watched Jonathan Smucker on the Ed show MSNBC and got the idea that if the OWS organizers include some voter registration booths this would be a plus for OWS and get politicians attention
In case you haven't heard the thunderous celebration by the North American climate movement, today the State Dept is set to 
We have been brought to this moment through the momentum of centuries of struggle and resistance, fighting to create alternatives to the accumulation of power and wealth by a minority who horde the resources of our finite planet for their personal profit and pleasure. Our so-called "modern" societies are intentionally structured to maintain deep imbalances of power in terms of race, gender, class, sexuality, and our natural environment. We've marched, voted, petitioned for laws, maxed out our credit, and played the game. But its naive to think that a government and economic system built with the blood of genocide and slavery would ever hear our cry. So we rose up, again and again and now we rise once more to continue the liberation of our minds and lives. This current moment of resistance is growing into a global movement devoted to reclaiming and building free societies.