Ed Talk

I think about the destiny of America a lot these days.  Do you?

When I was growing up, the America I imagined was far from perfect.  But it brimmed with hope and the possibility of a better day.  Progress would be stalled by racism, a scarcity of opportunities and at times bloodshed, but it would still move toward greater freedom, greater democracy and greater justice.  I expected that I would have my ups and downs, and would need some breaks along the way, but I still saw the American Dream as my own.  It belonged to me too.

For the most part, what I imagined has come true. In most cases much better than expected.  But I wonder if my children or their children will be able to say the same. As in the words of Bob Dylan, “The times they are a-changin’.”

There are no guarantees.

I wonder if I will recognize the America I’ve known most of my life in the not too distant tomorrow. We’ve managed to hold it together thus far, yet in the age of alternative realities its hard to escape plausible reminders of what could have been and still could be.

The Underground Airline, a book about an alternative American reality in which today we still have “slave states” because there was no civil war, reminds us what more compromise then could look like today. The Man in the High Castle, an alternative history in which Germany and Japan share the spoils of a defeated United States as the outcome of WWII, reminds us that white, Aryan supremacy could be today the prevailing law of our land. The Handmaid’s Tale, in which home grown American terrorists take over the US government and suspend our constitution, reminds us how women could be returned to a state of legal subjugation to men, re-establishing chattel as the status quo.

What these dystopian stories have in common is the loss of freedom, the dismantling of democracy, and the absence of justice.  In other words, the soul of what we cherish as the  American Ideal has been ripped out, leaving a society that is retreating into a new dark age.  The American Dream is dead.

Scary stuff.

But no need to worry.  After all, we would never again tolerate such moral atrocities as white supremacist rule or the indentureship of women.  We would never relinquish our freedom, democracy or justice.

Or would we?

I can’t just sweep that question under the rug. Too much I thought would never happen has, so one question gives rise to another.

Would we suspend our moral authority as a nation at the whims and economic interests of some powerful few?

Would we tolerate normalizing the worthiness of one race or ethnic group (or any other human identity) over another?

Would we further lower the glass ceiling on women and demean their value by paying them less, restricting their rights, or subjecting them to routine male aggression?

Maybe.

We’ve done it before. Today we do it less, but we still do it.  And our progress toward a better day for freedom, democracy and justice seems stalled at best.

The causes are no secret.  Wealth within our nation is becoming ultra-concentrated with a smaller and smaller group.  Along with ultra-concentration of wealth comes ultra-concentration of privilege and power, leaving the vast majority of Americans poorer, more insecure, and increasingly disenfranchised.

No wonder, then, that citizens express sharp dissatisfaction with our leaders and institutions that have failed to act collectively to preserve the foundations upon which the American Dream can realistically remain an aspiration for the 99%.

This is happening at the same time we are experiencing a demographic shift toward a multicultural population that collectively will become majority non-white by 2040.  Today’s 1st and 2nd graders already live in a multicultural America.

Many view this impending tipping point with alarm.  Change is not something we do well even when it is slow, so this shift seems to some to be coming upon us too quickly, unnecessarily complicating our lives and reinforcing our tendency to hold on to what we have or have left. There is the sense that something is being lost that we may not be able to retrieve.  That we are paying dearly for our circumstances.

We are.  I call it the cost of exclusion.

Years ago when the idea of diversity and inclusion as a strength was more hotly debated than today, I had a conversation with the CEO of a large supermarket chain who explained his view on inclusivity as vital to his business:

“Ed, I look at it this way.  Let’s say a pie represented all of my potential managers and employees, the best that are out there. Then let’s say I decided to cut out a slice that represented folks with big noses.  Then folks with black hair.  Then folks with brown skin. Or those who are taller than I am. Before I knew it, I’d have half a pie or less and deprived myself and my company of the best those folks have to offer – just based on their physical characteristics. That doesn’t make sense to me; it’s an opportunity cost I don’t need to bear.”

Yet the cost of exclusion doesn’t stop there, with those who choose to exclude. The cost is borne most heavily by those who are excluded. It takes the form of lost opportunity for a rapidly growing segment of our citizens to excel, making it difficult for them to realize their potential, comfortably support their families, and strengthen our nation’s social and economic fabric.

That’s just the beginning; the cost is greater still.  As Charlottesville has reminded us, the ripple effect of America’s “original sin” still reverberates, surfacing again a narrative that preaches justifications for exclusion, separation, special privilege and inequality.  It’s a narrative that wants to re-litigate the moral arguments that led to our Civil War, at great cost to our collective and individual identities, our economic and physical security, and even our lives.

The greatest cost of exclusion is that we live in a nation at risk of losing its soul.  On our current path, we could find ourselves in 2040 in a dystopian America of our own making.  The immeasurable cost of exclusion we face today is the disappearance of America as we know it and the extinguishing of the American Dream.

This could be our fate, but it is not our destiny.

Fortunately we have a choice.  And a powerful resource to make it a reality.  In truth, we have everything we need as a nation right now to set a new course.  To make 2040 an extraordinary inflection point in American history.  We just need to take off our blinders, see the vast untapped potential before us and release it.  This resource we call Americans — our citizens in all their many hues, national origins, religious practices and cultural norms.  It is one of the most powerful resources of humanity the world has ever seen under the flag of one nation, poised to become even more vital over the next 20 years.  And with it we have the power to re-invent America as the 21st century fulfillment of our nation’s sacred ideals, and to reap the rewards of embodying our founding declaration, “we hold these truths to be self-evident…”

I believe we can and will claim that higher destiny. I believe that we will soon realize that inclusion is our national ticket to our most prosperous era ever.  That a strong, inclusive, multicultural society will be our uniquely American “secret sauce” that extinguishes the vestiges of our “peculiar institution” and restores our moral authority among nations.

But there are a few “ifs” involved.  We will only achieve our destiny:

• if we re-affirm that our forefathers had the right idea (albeit roundly incomplete) and recommit to extending unabridged rights, privileges and opportunities to all, including our newer citizens
• if we stop questioning individuals’ or groups’ worthiness to be full participants in writing our next chapter as a society
• if we share our privileges more generously to give rise to opportunities that release latent productivity, innovation and genius
• if we recognize that our diversity is one of our greatest strengths and use inclusion as the catalyst to reinvigorate our social fabric and ignite a new era of broad prosperity, restoring faith in the American Dream.

I now imagine a day when our grandchildren are gratefully discussing a destiny that we began creating for them today.  They are saying that in a moment of national despair we made some wise and beneficial choices.  They are noting that we rejected the fate some would hand us, leading to more divisiveness, discord and decline.  That instead we chose a destiny based on inclusion that protected our freedom, strengthened our democracy, and expanded our shared peace and prosperity. That they are living in a vibrant and equitable world, and looking forward to a future in which all enjoy “the blessings of liberty” because we rejected fear and created a new legacy of hope.

Invest in inclusion.  The return is priceless.

Reinventure Capital is raising a fund that will generate a return on investment by making a return on inclusion.  The financial return will be measurable.  The societal returns will be both measurable and immeasurable, with ripple effects for years to come that are priceless. By investing equity and debt capital in early growth stage companies led by women and people of color, we will join and amplify the efforts of others who are also investing in a better America.

Please join us.

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*While there’s no such thing as a guarantee in investing and no one can reliably predict the future, Ed’s prior track record provides direct evidence that it is indeed possible to consistently invest for both financial returns and social value creation.  To learn more, please contact us.