We Used to Know How to Live in Community, on the Commons
My, how we've grown! </irony>
Too many people are convinced that life used to be nasty, brutish, and short. Our lifespans were short, the narrative goes. Violence was everywhere, with humans barely staying alive on a hostile landscape. Then "civilization" saved us, starting with agriculture, which forced us to stay put.
I no longer believe that story. Over the years, many different thinkers have convinced me that in many places — not everywhere — humans knew how to take care of the landscape and they knew how to take care of one another. We knew how to live in community, on the Commons (which I always capitalize, out of respect, like "Internet," oddly enough).
This sentence was the starting assumption of My Story of Trust.
Hard-won wisdom
Knowing how to live in community, on the Commons, wasn't innate for humans: it was hard-won wisdom. We did manage to kill ourselves off, time after time. We wiped out megafauna, overgrazed, chopped down handy forests, overfished, and in other ways made it hard to stay alive. We saw famines and epidemics. We also attacked one another pretty consistently, with lethality increasing as weapons improved and forms of social organization allowed for larger armies.
Living in harmony with the land and one another takes patience, effort and wisdom, particularly the kinds of wisdom that have been passed down through the centuries. For example, the core principles of many indigenous traditions around the world revolve around stewardship and community. These include:
Kaitiakitanga: Māori term for guardianship, stewardship, and protection of the sky, sea, and land. It emphasizes a deep spiritual connection to the environment and the responsibility to care for it for future generations.
Ayllu: Quechua fundamental unit of social organization, a community or kinship group that shares land, resources, and labor. It embodies communal living and collective well-being.
Ayni: Quechua principle of reciprocity and mutual help within the Ayllu. It means "today for you, tomorrow for me," emphasizing giving before receiving and communal labor for shared benefit.
Ubuntu: Nguni Bantu for "I am because we are." A philosophy that emphasizes interconnectedness, compassion, humanity, and the idea that a person's identity and well-being are intrinsically linked to the community's well-being.
Mālama 'Āina: Hawaiian for "To care for and honor the land." This concept reflects a deep reverence for the land as a provider and a living entity, emphasizing sustainable practices and a reciprocal relationship with nature.
Pijitsirniq: Inuit concept of communal living and resource sharing, particularly in harsh environments. It highlights cooperation, interdependence, and collective survival through sharing hunted game and other resources.
Dadirri: Aboriginal "deep listening" and quiet, still awareness. It emphasizes a contemplative approach to understanding the land, community, and oneself, fostering deep connection and respectful engagement.
Wolakota: Lakota Sioux state of balance, harmony, and peace within oneself, with others, and with the natural world. It encompasses values of respect, generosity, bravery, and wisdom for communal well-being.
Of these, most are unfamiliar to Westerners, though Ubuntu has become popular enough to be almost cliché. More notably, several such concepts comprise entire belief systems:
Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Great Law of Peace: The Iroquois Confederacy’s foundational constitution and philosophy that promotes peace, unity, and respect among nations. It emphasizes decision-making for the seventh generation and living in harmony with nature.
Teachings of the Seven Grandfathers: Anishinaabe moral and ethical framework for living a good life and building a strong community, embodying values like wisdom, love, respect, bravery, honesty, humility, and truth.
Fa'asamoa: "The Samoan Way." A comprehensive cultural code that governs all aspects of life, emphasizing communal harmony, respect for elders, reciprocal obligations, and collective responsibility.
Much of this wisdom predates writing. It was passed down through generations in rituals, oral traditions, cultural practices, apprenticeships and other means. Some of it is deeply tied to language and country, in ways that make it hard — if not impossible — to capture and pass on through traditional Western forms of communication, such as this post.
Some of the more accessible insights that have stuck with me include:
The cultures I'm citing were more concerned with stewardship than ownership.
Many managed their landscapes collectively over time, as opposed to private plots for commerce and private consumption.
They did their best to bring bad actors back into their communities. Ostracism and death were actions of last resort. They favored counsel over cancel.
All of these are fodder for future posts.
Coming full circle
Alas, Colonialism did its level best to ignore, suppress, or destroy all that hard-won wisdom.
Now we're struggling with these very issues: We've lost our sense of community and we've despoiled our many Commons. Then we bemoan the situation and wrack our brains about how it could have happened.
As if these struggles weren't complicated enough, they are compounded by the swift, recent rise of Generative AI, which could help or harm, and is almost certainly an accelerator of change: Will we all go cuddle with our new GenAI BFFs, forgetting about community entirely? Or will GenAI therapists help us reconnect with other humans? Will GenAI help us make more rational use of our resources and spaces? Or will GenAI plunder our remaining Commons at warp speed?
How might we win back what we once knew? Not turn back the clock, but rather blend the best of the old with the best of the new. That's the hopeful quest that I invite you on.
Recent books offer us great clues, including:
Tyson Yunkaporta's Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World (2020) and Right Story, Wrong Story: How to Have Fearless Conversations in Hell (2025)
Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants (2013)
Sobonfu Somé's The Spirit of Intimacy: Ancient African Teachings in the Ways of Relationships (2002)
For more, browse my Indigenous Knowledge Canon
What would you add to this list, and to the ones above? Who should we interview about this quest? What are your personal “aha” experiences along these lines?