Welcome to Holy Curiosity
Signal-spotting, storytelling and deckchair philosophy by futurist James Allen, revealing the unseen now and what it means for tomorrow.
Dear reader,
James Allen here. Professional futurist, strategy and foresight facilitator and speaker.
But before I get to what it is that I do, let’s start with a story.
In early 1955, just before Einstein's sudden death, LIFE Magazine editor William Miller, his son Pat, and Einstein's friend William Hermanns visited Einstein unannounced at his Princeton home. Miller hoped Einstein could offer wisdom to Pat, a Harvard freshman struggling with life's meaning. According to Miller, after Pat’s philosophical nihilism became apparent to Einstein, the following exchange occurred:
Einstein looked at Pat and simply asked, “Does not the question of the undulation of light arouse your curiosity?” (The nicest thing about the question was his simple assumption that the boy would understand it.) “Yes, very much,” said the boy, his interest brightening.
“Is not this enough to occupy your whole curiosity for a lifetime?”
“Why, yes,” said Pat, smiling rather sheepishly. “I guess it is.”
“Then do not stop to think,” said Einstein, “about the reasons for what you are doing, about why you are questioning. The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day. Never lose a holy curiosity.”
Albert Einstein quoted by William Miller in ‘Death of a Genius’, LIFE Magazine, 2 May 1955 (p.64)
Though far from contemplating the structure of the universe through the lens of theoretical physics, I nonetheless see the world, the universe, and reality writ large to be an unfathomably generative thing and can hardly help but be provoked into the kind of curious reverence Einstein alluded to. Every day the world bursts with novelty, as some things fade and die, others are ushered into existence and become the seeds of renewal and new possibility.
This is the spirit in which I pursue my work as a futurist. Somewhat ironically, this means I spend a lot of time carefully watching the present. I am looking for the seeds of novelty as they only begin to appear in some dimly lit and overlooked place, and I am paying attention to whether they have fallen on fertile soil, and if and when they are likely to receive light and water. I am also watching for what they may grow into, how they may change the ecology of that place and what they might displace throughout that process. Like in any ecology, that which has become a pervasive force began, at some point, as a small and unnoticed scattering of seeds.
To do this work, I use a combination of signal-spotting, structured analysis, scenarios and storytelling. Its purpose is to build the capacity of people and organisations to think well about the future and enable better decisions in the present. Through these methods, I aim to widen perception about what’s possible, to cultivate greater clarity, wisdom and discernment amid uncertainty, and to support better decisions in the here and now that steer us toward futures awash in goodness, truth and beauty.
I invite you to join my explorations by subscribing below, or contact me or check out my services to learn how I can help you and your organisation.
What can you expect from this substack?
I created this Substack as an open exploration of the potential future landscapes that deeply interest me and the people and organisations I work with. Here are a few promises and other things about what to expect:
Many of my posts will be in the spirit of open exploration and reflection. That means I’ll warmly welcome you into the dialogue if you have something to add that enriches the inquiry.
There will be no corporate confectionery. I’m not a hype guy. I have no interest providing you with fairy-flossy techno-wow or trend analysis that reinforces ideological fixations or feeds current state thinking. I’m only interested in getting at what’s genuinely useful, what works, what sticks, and also… what is wise.
My outlook as a futurist is darkly optimistic. To paraphrase Shaun Chamberlain, the chap who coined that phrase, I am unashamedly positive about the human capacity to cultivate goodness, truth and beauty, and unashamedly realistic about the difficulty of that quest. I’d call it ‘pragmatic’ if only that word hadn’t been weaponised and too often deployed to help dogmatic opinions masquerade as objective “facts”.
So if all that sounds dandy to you, then…
I look forward to meeting you and learning from you, too.
Warm wishes,
James Allen