Monthly Archives: July 2010

Book Review: “The Great Reset” by Richard Florida

Read The Great Reset: How New Ways of Living and Working Drive Post-Crash Prosperity

I’m not sure that anyone other than Richard Florida (author of The Rise of the Creative Class) could thoroughly examine today’s economic climate and its long-term implications, and write a book that leaves the reader with a rather surprising feeling of optimism. Nonetheless, he’s done just that in The Great Reset: How New Ways of Living and Working Drive Post-Crash Prosperity. It’s an absolutely fascinating and even exhilarating, if perhaps a bit too broad, read. More importantly, it expresses a vision that seems to make readers on both sides of the vast political divides want to roll up their sleeves and get busy. Like the best visionary works, it’s a very practical and timely call to action.

Early on, Florida argues that economic peaks and valleys are part of the life-cycle of a society’s development as “obsolete and dysfunctional systems and practices” fall apart and are by necessity replaced by “the seeds of innovation and invention, of creativity and entrepreneurship.” Looking to history, Florida points to the first Great Reset in America that occurred in the 1870s, and to the second in the Great Depression of the 1930s. Each was a period in which the previous period of prosperity reached its limits, and a “reset” of innovation literally remade both the economic and geographic landscape of the nation.

In the First Reset the factory became the center of economic life. The industrial city became the place to live. The shift was from an agricultural to an industrial economy. The transcontinental railroads were built. In the Second Great Reset, the one that evolved from the Great Depression, manufacturing efficiency and productivity improved dramatically. Suburbia attracted the mobile population with the new wealth to buy a home and a car to travel to it. The population migrated to the suburbs and the South and the West — so much so that a majority of us lived in the South and West by 2000. The interstate highway system was constructed.

Florida then points out that a third Great Reset is developing now, one that focuses on the development of denser, closely-linked “megaregions” made possible by, for example, new investments in public transportation and the technology that allows for the increased productivity of telecommuting. Florida believes that this is the time to build a great high-speed rail system to further integrate each megaregion and eventually to connect the megaregions of America. In emphasizes the promotion of creative jobs and service jobs—and the need to prepare for the former while making the latter more appealing. We are moving from “…an industrial to an idea-driven creative economy now,” Florida argues. We are seeing the Third Industrial Revolution and moving from “…an economy based on making things to one that revolves around knowledge and creativity.”

The Great Reset also calls, to a degree, for a shift in values and a redefinition of success. “The promise of the current Reset is the opportunity for a life made better not by ownership of real estate, appliances, cars, and all manner of material goods, but of greater flexibility and lower levels of debt, of more time with family and friends, greater promise of personal development, and access to more and better experiences. All organisms and all systems experience the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.” The coming Great Reset gives us the promise of time … to innovate, to devote to causes, to spend with family, to simply live. Renting, rather than owning, in some cases gives individuals the mobility to take advantage of new opportunities—and may well be the better long-term investment. Quality of life may be measured more by the time and resources to have meaningful experiences than by possessions.

In Florida’s discussion of the current Reset, he builds a compelling and, yes, practical case for recognizing, understanding, and then taking full advantage of the opportunities created by “new ways of living and working” that will drive “post-crash prosperity.” Speaking both as a passionate idealist and hard-nosed pragmatist, Florida proposes guiding principles, based on his examination of history and the present economic, social, and political climates that can help America and the rest of the world to move toward a more sustainable and prosperous future. Here are a couple of those guiding principles, offered for example:

1. An abiding faith in a simple, undeniable first principle that “every single human being is [or can be] creative … The real key to economic growth lies in harnessing the full creative talents of every one of us.”

2. “There’s an urgent need to create new good jobs — lots of them. We need to support the growth of higher-paying knowledge, professional and creative jobs, and make sure that greater numbers of workers are prepared for them.”

Having rigorously examined two Great Resets, Florida makes a compelling argument that together, we can address urgent needs and build a new prosperity. He calls for us to look beyond the short-term band-aid quick fixes and invest for the long-term — something that’s hard to accomplish in the short-attention-span days of the 24/7 news cycle. We are past the time when we can afford to focus on a problem’s symptoms rather than its deeper root causes. The older, non-sustainable fixtures of our society, frankly, are not coming back. We need to start working on what will replace them. “Let’s stop confusing nostalgia with resolve. It’s time to turn our efforts, as individuals, as governments, as a society, to putting pieces into place for a vibrant, prosperous future.”

Florida also has some excellent points about the financial industry, reminding us that its original, intended purpose is to connect capital with enterprise. Basically, it’s a necessary middle man. Like all middle men, it should be as small, efficient, and invisible as possible. It was not meant to be an intoxicating instrument of ever-increasing complexity and risk, existing largely to feed itself. The instrument of commerce needs to refocus on capitalizing innovation and infrastructure.

After reading the book I found myself not just hoping, but believing that a new model of sustainable, long-term prosperity is within our grasp. I found myself wishing that the book was longer—I kept wanting more depth, more exploration. It is, after all, a very quick read. But in the end, The Great Reset isn’t meant to provide all the answers and blueprints. No one book ever could. It’s meant to spark thought, conversation, and, ultimately, action. It does the first two brilliantly. The vision articulated is practical and exciting. I am ready and eager to start working on the third. and I am eager to go back and read some of Florida’s earlier books. I hope my elected leaders are doing the same.

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Beer Review: Claymore Scotch Ale

I first tried Great Divide Brewing Company’s delicious Claymore Scotch Ale at Mac McGee’s, one of the fine pubs here in Decatur (I’ve gone out on a limb and called the area that stretches from my beloved Marlay House and past Mac McGee’s, The Brick Store, Leon’s, and Twain’s the very best pub crawl district in all of America outside of Boston) and I adored it at once. I was happy to discover that my neighborhood Candler Park Market carries it, and it’s just as good in the bottle as it is on tap. For a “wee heavy,” it’s surprisingly refreshing and drinkable. It borders on sweet, but the malty graininess adds a nice balance. It is, in a word, delicious.

The pour is darker than I expected … a deep ruby/cherry brown, and it has a nice two-finger, creamy head that laces beautifully. But wait a second before you taste, okay? Savor it from a wide-mouthed glass, because the aroma is a big part of the pleasure. Start slowly. Breathe deep. The scent carries roasted caramel malt, chocolate, coffee, and a very subtle hint of fruit — cherries and raisins, maybe. Ready? Now take your first sip.

The feel is exceptional — smooth and creamy, and surprisingly complex. Bready, sure, in the best and most comforting sort of way. Sweet, but not even a little bit syrupy. The taste follows the scent: roasted, sweet malts with subtle hops, chocolate, grains, and light accents of, well, something fruity. Apple, raisin, or cherry, I think. Maybe notes of all three. The finish balances the sweetness nicely, with just a touch of the woody, peaty notes you’d find in a good Scotch. It’s complex, drinkable, and oh so smooth.

I was about to say this is one of the best Scotch ales I’ve had in ages, one that equals or maybe even surpasses my fading memories of McEwans Scotch Ale, which (alas!) is hard to find these days, at least here in the Atlanta area. But frankly, it’s one of the most delicious brews of any sort I’ve tried recently. It’ll be cementing a place on my favorites list, and it’ll be a mainstay in my kitchen. I can’t wait to try it in the fall and winter. In the meantime, it’s mighty tasty in the summer.

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“Secrets of the Sands” by Leona Wisoker

Read Secrets of the Sands

It’s a sad fact but a true one—some of the most interesting books today are being published by small presses, but they remain the most difficult to find on your chain bookstore’s shelves, or in the ever-shrinking book review pages of your local newspaper. Leona Wisoker’s (the usual note of disclosure: the author is a friend of mine) debut fantasy novel, Secrets of the Sands, is a perfect case in point.

Wisoker has created an elaborate, well-crafted fantasy world that doesn’t feel like the too-familiar pseudo-Celtic Medieval Land, and a complex desert society that doesn’t feel like, say, Dune or The Arabian Nights. She’s created a logical and consistent language that feels exotic but (despite the ubiquitous apostrophes) doesn’t feel like Klingon or Tolkien’s masterful Elvish. She manages to use her language to make her world seem textured and real, but still keeps her dialogue fresh, lively, and yes, even contemporary. Secrets of the Sands is a fun read—it’s delightfully original, and it deserves attention.

Secrets of the Sands tells parallel stories. The first focuses on the desert lord, Cafad Scratha, whose entire family was murdered when he was a child, and the orphaned street thief, Idisio, who like most of Wisoker’s characters is more than he seems. The other follows the young noble woman Alyea, who must navigate a perilous journey and a maze of deadly politics to become a desert lord and hold the Scratha fortress for her king. Both characters carry deep wounds from the past that drive their actions, and both stories ultimately connect in a surprising manner that satisfies while leaving you wanting more.

While I generally prefer the longer, door-stop tomes when choosing fantasies (or, well, novels of any genre), I found Wisoker’s brisk, relentless pace refreshing. Trials and the learning of skills pass quickly, but never seem effortless or unearned. Revelations come fast, but we never really miss the deeper dives into motivation that bog down so many longer works. The focus always remains right where it belongs, on the primary characters and the rather profound changes that are occurring around and, more importantly, within them. It is the characters, after all, that make the novel.

The book is filled with subtle and delicious wit. For example, one character, when discussing a whore, replies “tartly.” Wisoker’s book is also distinctly, and even anachronistically, American. Village Inns have front desks, for example. Those touches made me smile while reading, and set her world distinctly apart from the generic worlds so prevalent on the shelves at your local Mega-Barnes-a-Zillion.

I have only one real complaint. Wisoker has done an amazing job of creating a vivid, breathing, original world—but more than a few chapters pass before she slows the action enough to describe it, leaving us to fill in the gaps from the shelf of clichés we all keep stored in the attics our brains—with images from, well, Dune or The Arabian Nights. When we have to revise those mental pictures later, it’s jarring and pulls us out of the story. Thankfully, the characters are rich enough to pull us right back in, and leave us eager for the sequels when the last page is turned.

I hope you’ll give Secrets of the Sands a try. Since the small presses are the ones taking real chances in this market, they deserve support. Even if they don’t have the budgets to buy space on the tables at the mega chains, and, yeah, even if you have to make the effort to seek them out.

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