Bina Venkataraman Talks Future Goals & Forward Thinking
Bina Venkataraman
Author, teacher, editorial page editor of The Boston Globe, policy maven, optimist
What's your G.O.A.T?
David Bowie and Prince (true originals), my mom (a physicist and professor and amazing chef), and as a greater Cleveland native, LeBron James.
What makes you feel like a real grown-up?
Drinking a martini at the end of a long week of news. And wearing lipstick, which I only started doing at age 38.
What's the weirdest thing in your tote bag?I carry around a stack of tiny cards with the phonetic spelling of my name, for when I get introduced at events or in media appearances.
Telescoping hope.
When I was young I kept journals with ideas; I dreamed of becoming a writer. I was raised by scientists and naturally curious about how things worked. My dad is a chemical engineer by training. My mom, a physicist, used to take us to Cedar Point, an amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio, where she would get us to calculate the heights of the roller coasters using geometry. Curiosity about the world was inextricably linked with having fun. I even started a "newspaper" with friends in elementary school called The Cool Kids Chronicle.
I've long been "a nature girl" who loved the outdoors, which led to intellectual interest in the connection between human health and the health of the planet. I remember feeling fascinated when then-Senator Al Gore first talked about climate change—that humans could be engineering the climate of the planet on this scale, and the dangers that could pose to life on Earth. Earlier in my career, I wrote about climate change as a journalist for The Burlington Free Press, The Christian Science Monitor, The Boston Globe, and The New York Times. When President Obama was re-elected, I had been serving as policy advisor to his council of advisors on science and technology. When the President said climate change would be a top-four priority in the second term, I felt something light up in me. I knew I wanted to be more than an advisor, so I went to work in the White House on the first-ever presidential climate action plan, helping companies and communities use sound science to prepare for climate impacts, and opening up government climate change data for use by innovators, entrepreneurs and developing nations.
One reason I wrote The Optimist’s Telescope is because I observed that government leaders and others concerned about the climate (including me!) didn’t always have the best way of talking about it. It’s important to feel that one has agency when it comes to such a huge, long-term problem like climate change. Warning people of impending doom can often cause them to turn away and live like there's no tomorrow. People have to know that the actions they take in their lives, at the voting booth and as leaders matter. And they really do. We also have to tell the stories of people addressing the problem all over the world, to demonstrate the art of the possible.
Much gets in the way of thinking long-term—including the measures of success (quarterly earnings, ribbon cuttings) we reward. We fail to see what inaction or the wrong actions can do down the road. This is reflected in the US pandemic response, where a lack of imagination of consequences in terms of loss of lives and economic devastation, versus short-term stock market and poll numbers, prevented President Trump from taking it seriously (more thoughts in our op-ed). Yet these are not inevitabilities, but choices and norms we have adopted in our institution—hence my optimism. Looking at the longer arc of progress, what could come out of the protests, for example, gives me hope. Optimism is an action—it's engaging with the future and taking steps to make it better. To act for the sake of the future, people need tools—say, a telescope—to scan the horizon and see what's possible. I'm an optimist, not because I know the world will get better, but because I'm committed to making it that way. Engaged optimists don't just sit back and watch the world go by; they pick up the tools to shape the future.
Want to exercise your own ability to see the long road ahead and stay the course? I suggest the following lessons I learned from the stories and research I unearthed for my book.
Look beyond near-term targets. We can avoid single data points as measures of our progress or success in life or work, and instead adopt rituals of reflection on long-range goals.
Stoke the imagination. We can also leave ourselves time and bandwidth to let our minds wander to generate scenarios of the future, and practice if/then rituals that allow us to imagine ourselves navigating those scenarios with agency.
Create immediate rewards for future goals. We can reward ourselves for progress toward future goals, or seek programs that offer immediate allure but are designed for our long-run interest, such as plans that link lotteries to building savings accounts.
Direct attention away from immediate urges. We can reengineer cultural and environmental cues that condition us for urgency and instant gratification.
Demand and design better institutions. We can vote and advocate for rules and policies that encourage looking ahead rather than reckless decisions—like catch shares that make fishermen more like long-term investors.
In these ways and others I describe, we can hone our ability to plan ahead and work toward a better future for ourselves, our communities, our businesses—and humanity.
