Quest-i-on

The new year prompted reflection on my questions over time.

When I was eight, I used to walk for half a day at a time in the mountainous forest where I grew up. It was on one of those long walks alone that I was contemplating what my quest might be. I asked:

What quest am I on?

The epiphany was that the answer was embedded: the quest-i-on was to use the power of questions to change the World.

When I was 18, I had embarked on a Bachelor of Forest Science. My question then was this:

How can I use what I am learning to shift forest management so that it both sustains the production of forest products, while sustaining the integrity of the ecosystem upon which all life depends?

After my degree I commenced my career as a Forester, but asked political questions before I had a base of power. Frustrated, I jumped the fence to be an activist and forest campaigner. I lost more forest than I saved, but resulting from the campaign, there are still large tracts of threatened species habitat, high conservation value forest and other under-represented ecotypes secure in the reserve system. This was actually my first social enterprise, because that campaign ran with a modest profit.

When I was 28, my question was this:

As a species, how can we live in a way that recognises the intrinsic value of non-human life forms, beyond any instrumental use they may have for humans?

I attended a conference on environmental justice. One of the panels was three philosophers, each of whom had based their life's work on the foundation of the expositions of my childhood hero, a Norwegian philosopher and mountaineer, Arne Næss, who influenced my early thinking when I was 14. The prominent panellists were humbled and a little nervous, as Arne Næss was in the audience. Following the presentations when he was called up to respond, in his sneakers he leapt onto the stage, full of vivace. He was 87.

It was inspiring to be in the presence of someone who had shaped the thinking of the environmental movement, publishing important books and papers over more than half a century since 1936. Earlier, when each panellist in turn described how Arne Næss formed the foundation of their philosophy, and the direction they then took it, he sat on my left. When it was question time, I tentatively half-raised my hand. Arne Næss grabbed my elbow, thrust my arm in the air, and said:

Ask the question!

Credit: Nordre Aker Budstikke https://nab.no/arne-nass-er-dod/19.6025

Frustrated trying to influence decision-makers, I thought I would just become one. As a local government Councillor, I honed the art of strategic questioning, which has the power to subtly frame the debate, respectfully challenge implicit assumptions, and cut through to the crux of the issue. I asked:

What else must be done to have net zero greenhouse gas emissions?

This lead to carbon neutrality. I asked:

How can our community best demonstrate compassion for people fleeing persecution and seeking protection in Australia?

This lead to the declaration of a Refugee Welcome Zone. I asked:

What can be done to ensure as many people as possible realise their dream of owning their own home?

This lead to the development of an Affordable Housing Strategy. I asked:

How can the two greenfield towns we are creating be pedestrian-focused and have a low environmental impact?

This lead to Masterplans for lush and walkable towns.

As Chair of the Heritage Advisory Committee, I asked:

How can planning processes ensure the protection of historical artefacts and structures?

This lead to the serious consideration of heritage values in the assessment of development applications. As Chair of the Arts and Cultural Development Taskforce, I asked:

How can the creative community thrive?

This lead to a full annual calendar of festivals, exhibitions and performances. As Chair of the Coast and Estuary Management Committee, I asked:

How can development be designed to protect important littoral rainforest?

This lead to the establishment of riparian and coastal buffer zones.

Not all my questions were heeded. When the subprime mortgage crisis in the United States was first noticed, with debts that could never be repaid bundled together with a bow and on-sold with a AAA rating, I asked:

What exposure does Council's investment portfolio have to the emerging subprime mortgage crisis, and can we forego the interest and divest before maturity the collateralized debt obligation we have with Lehman Brothers?

Not taking that question seriously cost Council $10M.

When I was 38, my question was this:

What does it mean for my life to now be a Father?

I failed to make the transition from autonomy to being embedded in a family system where it is not about me and my personal aspirations and achievements. I was unable to shift my perception of legacy from being out in the World to the family I was raising. With arrogance, I allowed my personal desires to take precedence.

Skipping over various rolls in training, community development, consulting and public health to when I was 48: it was the year 2020.

On top of the challenges of the pandemic, it was for me a year of discord, revelation and shifting self-perception. I have been processing a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder (Type 1), gaining insight into the vicissitude of my adulthood, perpetually cycling between hubris and melancholy. Medication is now dampening the amplitude of my cycles. At the same time I was assessed as having High Functioning Autism.

While endeavouring to deal with a decade of damage, digest a dual diagnosis, and deal with COVID, during this downturn, I thought it would be a great time to start a new business. So, I convened the Social Enterprise Community. Through this venture I pose the question:

How can business be used as a vehicle to make a positive environmental and social impact?

At 8 I set the quest-i-on: to use questions to change the World.

At 18 I focused my questions on ecologically sustainable forestry.

At 28 my questions explored the application of environmental ethics in public policy.

At 38 my questions grappled with the existential changes of fatherhood.

At 48, amid the cumulation of various crises, mostly of my own making, I questioned how commerce might contribute to meeting the Sustainable Development Goals.

Now, I ask this:

What is your question?