Unicorn Utopia

I took acid in the wilderness and I have hope for humankind. Including five actionable takeaways!

Sep 21, 2023

I’m a student of organizational and evolutionary psychology, so I feel qualified to make this statement: humankind is like a semi-feral housecat, and profit is the claws that used to save our life but now get us trapped in knitted blankets. In my last post, I talked about the species-wide scarcity mindset that has gotten us to where we are today. It may seem counter-intuitive, but what we really need in order to progress to the growth mindset is a good healthy claw trim. Our profit claws are snagging on the fabric of the ecosystem, and it’s time to retire the weapons that worked for us in the past. Only then can we move on to Humanity 2.0.

I have hope that we can get there. I believe this because of the 5% Rule, because of Unicorn Utopia, and because of the Wisdom of Women.

The 5% Rule

To be fair, a better future does seems awfully unlikely from where we’re at now.

In 2016, hundreds of climate scientists wrote an open letter expressing their frustration at the lack of policy response toward the threat of climate change. In the seven years since, extreme weather events have become more and more common, yet policy continues to lag behind. If the scientists are scared, then I am scared too.

Quick background for those of you who missed Stats 101: confidence intervals are the key to statistical sciences. Unlike algebra and calculus problems, stats will never produce a pretty round number. It will produce a range—a confidence interval. Psychology, along with most social sciences, uses a 95% interval. This means any so-called “finding” could still be due to chance and not actual real-life significance. Whatever you think is true, subtract 5% for chance and error.

Here’s my hopeful take on 5% Rule: Climate disaster is certain. Subtract 5%. Focus all of your efforts on re-routing the course of human existence toward that little bright spot of hope. It won’t happen just by thinking about it. We need organization. We need grassroots. We need policies.

I have hope, not because I believe that a better future is likely, but because I believe it is possible. I can see a path to it, even if most paths lead elsewhere. And because I see the path, I know it exists. The tricky part is turning the 5% into the 95%, and from there, reality.

Survival of the Fittest

Until this year, I had successfully gone all twenty-something years of my life avoiding peeing in the wilderness. I did it for the first time while camping this July, and while I was figuring out the best technique, I happened upon a pretty wild theory about sexual dimorphism in humans. (Note: I had taken one tab of acid beforehand, in case that’s relevant here.)

While I was spending carrots planning my next safe place to pee, the cis men in my camp were just going to the edge of our site and using their natural equipment with no second thought, 100% confident that they weren’t about to die peeing in the wilderness. Meanwhile, I squatted in carefully-chosen downhill clearings, flattening weeds with my shoes. Even then, I never felt 100% safe. I hated peeing at night and not being able to watch for bugs. Bugs. Here we are, a few generations after germ theory, and still terrified of bugs. They just keep getting smaller: first mosquitoes, now UTIs. So here’s my theory: humans who were assigned female at birth have been forcibly taught the “subtract 5% confidence” rule by Earth herself. The ones who didn’t get it, didn’t survive. The ones who did, passed those problem solving skills (and a distrust of bugs) on to their daughters.

The next day, I took another tab of acid and visited the reservoir by our campsite. I found a little green bug with wavy arms, gently scooped it up with a finger, and (non-verbally) told it my theory about the complicated relationship between humans and bugs. Centuries of us killing each other. The little green bug understood me, it forgave me, and it looked at me with wonder and not fear. And in that moment, I found a forgiveness I hadn’t known I needed—I forgave my parents for bringing me into this messed-up world. (Talk to your doctor before taking acid in the wilderness, but personally, I highly recommend it.)

Here’s the problem with survival of the fittest. It’s been applied on an individual level instead of species-wide. People use it as an excuse for eugenics instead of what it really means, that humankind has the greatest chance of survival if we are fit for our environment. Guess what? Profit isn’t fit. Consumerism, billionaires, and carbon emissions are not fit for the environment. The opposite, in fact—they’re killing the environment. Mother Nature demands balance. That includes resources. And dollars are nothing but a resource.

I have the sense that the Earth is experiencing a fever right now. The chills, the hot flashes, the aches, all of it. It’s unprecedented in recorded history. And it’s our fault. The Earth’s immune system is responding with more and more drastic measures to try to get humans to realize what they’re doing. Can you blame her? Forests and species across the world have been decimated. She needs to fight back. Unless we can figure our shit out.

So how do we become the fittest species? It’s not a competition against mosquitoes or rats or each other anymore. We have everything we need to create a sustainable, equitable, peaceful society. All we need to do is listen to our Mother, and nourish Hope. All we have to do is tell stories about Unicorn Utopia, and teach it to our children.

Intermission: A Conversation with My Worryhorse

Before I've even opened the stables for the day, one horse always charges out first and knocks me flat on my back. It's the Worryhorse. She completely forgoes small talk and squeaks, "What about the environment?!"

"We've talked about this," I reply tiredly (it's 3am). "Can you wait until daylight to start bothering me with the world's problems?" She whinnies softly. Climate change is pretty scary right now, so it's fair to be worried about that, right? I sigh and give her my first carrot of the day.

I roll over and try to fall back asleep. "What about politics," someone whispers.

"You know we can't control what happens next election year. I know politics is scary, but we can't keep worrying about that." I give her one more carrot and pull the blanket over my head to get a few more hours of sleep.

The second I wake up again, I can already feel her presence. "What about mrrph?" I can’t make out the last word.

"What's that? I can’t understand you." This is what always happens. She doesn't swallow the carrots I give her, then the worries get hard to parse out.

“Mrpppphhmrrph!”

“Look, I have other horses to feed, and you've already had two carrots today, can you please leave?”

She finally swallows the first two carrots and screams “WHAT ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT?!”

I try to stay patient as I explain. “We're safe right now. The climate crisis isn't an immediate threat. I need to eat breakfast.”

“We're all going to die, how can you be thinking about breakfast right now?”

"We're safe. We need sustenance. We can't save the environment when you're taking all my carrots.”

“I'm just worried.”

At this point, I know there’s only one thing left to do. “Let me tell you a story. Want to hear about Unicorn Utopia?” She says nothing, which I take as my cue to continue.

“There’s a parallel universe to ours where Earth and all its species are aligned towards the most sustainable, equitable, peaceful existence. It looks very similar to our universe, and very different. With one notable exception, all the species in the Unicorn Universe behave exactly the way they do on our planet here. Mushrooms spread resources through underground systems, ensuring the survival of their weakest members. Fish eat the parasites off one another. Bees and ants cooperate to make vast colonies. The only difference in the parallel world is that humans live in alignment with nature, too. They ensure the safety and survival of all their members, not just their immediate families or their home countries. And they do this, not with a massive world-wide police-state, but the way all of Earth’s other children do: in local networks, sustainably and equitably.”

Worryhorse already looks more relaxed. “You mean we won’t need electoral politics? I could stop worrying about that entirely?” I nod. “And the environment will recover, thanks to the sustainable practices of living in harmony with nature instead of trying to master it?” She considers. “Why is it called Unicorn Utopia? Unicorns don’t exist.”

“Neither do utopias.”

“So why unicorns?”

“In the parallel universe, some horses come first. Bodyhorses are priority horses, and they remind us of this by wearing big foam horns on their heads, that look kind of like the number 1. In fact, I see some behind you right now.” Worryhorse turns her head to see the horses lined up in the stable behind her. Drink Water is first in line, with a sparkly fake unicorn horn headband very noticeable on her slight frame. Take Medicine is behind her, with a similar gaudy adornment on her head.

“Do you see why I need you to wait for your carrots til after these ladies are fed?” I ask. Worryhorse nods and whinnies softly.

“I feel much more like myself now,” she says. “All those worries made me forget about the possibility of a better future, because it seems unlikely. But optimism just means believing in one good future.”

“Welcome back, Hope,” I tell her, and give her a pat on the nose, and some alfalfa. It’s not the last time today that I’ll see Worryhorse. But she always turns back into Hope, given enough time.

The Wisdom of Women

In a beautiful, tear-jerking scene from Barbie (2023), Ruth Handler’s character says, “we mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they have come.” Greta Gerwig understands how women prioritize the Carrot Economy: by partially or completely diverting their own carrot supply to their children. Literally, in the form of nutrition during the womb, but then figuratively, as mothers continue to support their children emotionally, mentally, and physically up until the kids can do it well enough on their own. Which could take decades, or never happen at all. It’s the ultimate, most personal, most invisible sacrifice. Mothers make it every day. And this is why I have hope.

Love is stronger than hate, and at their core, people aren’t selfish. The decision to stand still for the next generation is perhaps the most selfless thing in the world. Women understand Carrot Economics on an intuitive level and since this is the actual important economy (not the Dow-Jones), I have hope. We women understand nature’s need for seasons, adaptation, and balance.

The concept of seasons has been especially relevant to me this past year. It feels like I’ve been hibernating, or maybe metamorphosing in a cocoon. I’ve put school and work on pause to see how far there is still to go. It’s scary to have life on pause. It feels like I’m falling behind. But then again, life is never really on pause. It’s what happens between an inhale and an exhale (I think I read that on a Dove chocolate wrapper).

Because I’ve been forced to prioritize it, my mental hygiene is sometimes better than the rest of my physical hygiene. I may not have showered today, but I have taken myself on a walk. I haven’t cleaned the dishes, but I met with my therapist and actually felt well enough for a productive session. There’s cat vomit on the carpet, but I covered it with a paper towel and I’m doing a vinyasa flow on the other side of the room. So I can say, with 95% confidence, that mental hygiene and mental health do not have a 1:1 relationship. After years seeing cognitive behavioral therapists, I’ve got a wide “toolbox” of mental tricks to beat Depression and Anxiety. The problem is they all require practice and, therefore, carrots. Being healthy is exhausting. Those of us who are chronically ill are used to operating in a carrot deficit. You have to sacrifice everything else and conserve carrots only for your bodyhorses. Anything beyond that is an unexpected gift.

Because it is a gift, isn’t it? Life-energy. To be alive and conscious. To be the universe, experiencing itself. It’s magical, if you stop to think about it (or if you take acid in the wilderness.) Peak humanness, in my opinion, is borderless anarchy. It’s the equal distribution of resources across continents. It’s permaculture and self-sustaining, walkable communities. It’s less work and more play. It’s less war and more peace. Less pain and more joy. Less running toward the imaginary finish line, and more standing still. But, how? Here’s a few actionable takeaways for you.

Takeaways

Take notice of positive trends. Congress is becoming more diverse each election; Gen Z is protesting gun violence and climate change; labor unions are making a massively exciting comeback. TV shows are representing populations that have never been given voice before. People are realizing that a work- and consumerism-centered existence isn't fulfilling, and they are asking for alternatives. This is how change happens; first, discomfort with the status quo.
Curate your feeds to involve less news and more community; less politics and more solidarity; less war and more peace. I am a leftist living in a red state but even here there are so many nonprofits, grassroots movements, social programs, and people fighting for a better future! Find those people and stay close to them.
Imagine that within our lifetime, we will see a world that is more sustainable, more equitable, and more peaceful. Visualize it, draw it, write about it. A world that exists in harmony with nature, that values community above profit, that nourishes our souls instead of poisons them. That world is worth fighting for, no matter how far away it feels right now.
Seek out Utopia content! Thomas More coined the word using the Greek root to mean “no place” while sounding like the word for “good place.” It’s not a blueprint for society; it’s an exercise in organization. I’m currently reading Ursula Le Guin’s The Dispossessed, and this summer I finished Rutger Bregman’s Utopia for Realists. I recommend them both, and I’ll continue curating recommendations for you going forward!
For those with the carrots and dollars to do so: quit your corporate job and go spend your talents and energy on a co-op or nonprofit instead. Organized labor, public health, the environmental crisis—the more people working towards a better future, the better! Align, align, align. This is how we finally put planet and people over profit.

Megan’s Agenda

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