“It's an unlikely place to start a revolution,” I
think to myself as I stop in front of the nondescript office
building at Eleven Waterloo Place, just down from London's
Piccadilly Circus. Before I open the large glass doors, I glance
up the street toward Trafalgar Square. I can just make out
Nelson's column with its statue of one of Britain's most famous
heroes, his shining countenance overlooking the tour buses
below. Two hundred years ago, when Europe ruled the world, Lord
Nelson made sure that the British navy ruled the seas. But I've
come to London in search of a more contemporary hero. His name
is Jakob von Uexkull, and he has a plan that is as simple as it
is revolutionary: to band together one hundred global
leaders—heroes of our own age—and turn them into a
political force like no other in history. He calls it the World
Future Council: an international body of carefully selected and
deeply respected individuals, formed at this critical period in
human development to help mobilize the conscience of the world
on behalf of our common future.
This council, as von Uexkull envisions it, would consist of
one hundred of the most capable and courageous men and women
alive today. Their specific task would be to look beyond the
interests of nations, governments, corporations, and ideologies
to the broader interests of the planet itself and to the
well-being of its six billion citizens. They would seek to
influence world governments, lobby world leaders, and add their
collective weight to issues of planetary import—political,
economic, ecological, religious, and humanitarian. Von Uexkull's
hope is to create an unprecedented X factor in global politics,
with the moral authority to be heard and the political
legitimacy to promote more enlightened policy. And the guiding
principle of this council would be the quality of our common
future and the legacy we leave to those who will inherit this
ever-smaller planet we all share. It is a bold vision and I'm
curious to meet the visionary.
Von Uexkull seems an unlikely if affable hero, as he warmly
greets me at the elevator door and ushers me into his small
office. Tall and lanky, with an accent that betrays his
Scandinavian origins, he might easily pass for a college
professor, his graying beard, glasses, and reserved demeanor
giving off an intellectual aesthetic. But as we begin to speak
about his vision for changing the world, his voice takes on a
quiet passion and moral authority that seems more in keeping
with his activist reputation.
“Politicians today are timid,” he declares.
“They lack courage; they are short-sighted and in many
cases corrupt. Winston Churchill once said that the politician
thinks of the next election and the statesman thinks of the next
generation. But there are very few statesmen or stateswomen
around today.”
It was concern about the legacy we are leaving future
generations that inspired this soft-spoken Swede to take up a
project as ambitious as the World Future Council promises to be.
As a former Green Party member of the European Parliament and
founder of the highly respected Right Livelihood Awards (often
referred to in the press as the alternative Nobel Prizes), von
Uexkull is no stranger to the unforgiving complexity of
international politics. He has firsthand experience observing
the interactions of short-sighted governments, powerful
corporate interests, well-intentioned NGOs, and passionate
activists as they struggle to respond to the burgeoning array of
issues affecting our global village—north and south, east
and west. Good ideas, he tells me, are not in short supply, but
they often languish for years in reports or commissions or
nonbinding declarations and are rarely implemented. And
therefore, many of the fundamental changes that we desperately
need to ensure a thriving human future seem to get further and
further away, even as they grow more and more urgent. Sometime
in the late 1990s, von Uexkull's frustrations came to a head.
“In 1998, I sat on a UNESCO commission to draft what
was called 'The Declaration of Human Duties and
Responsibilities,'” he remembers. “I realized that
here was this very positive event that had been called together
by UNESCO, but in the end, it was still just a short-term
meeting with a nonbinding resolution. And so I began to think
about how to build on all the good work and idealism that are
out there and bridge this growing implementation gap.”
The seeds of what would become the World Future Council
Initiative (WFCI) were first planted in the public mind during a
German radio interview later that year, when von Uexkull began
to speak extemporaneously about a vision that had been slowly
forming in his mind. On that radio show, he called for a global
council of “wise elders, thinkers, pioneers, and young
leaders” that could influence and lobby parliamentarians
around the world. He suggested that such a celebrated assembly
could act as a sort of high-profile, carefully coordinated,
globally oriented special interest group that could focus the
world's attention on the truly important issues facing humanity.
It was a far-reaching proposal, and von Uexkull knew even then
that bringing it to life would require a long-term commitment
and deep-pocketed funders. It would mean finding the best and
brightest leaders, individuals who had the moral weight to
represent the world's collective aspirations for a brighter
future. And someone would have to organize the whole venture.
“I was already responsible for one underfunded global
project named the Right Livelihood Awards,” he explains.
“This was obviously much larger, so I thought there was no
way that I could take it on.”
Whatever von Uexkull's hesitations, fate was one step ahead
of him. The response to his proposal was immediate. Television
stations began talking to him about broadcasting the sessions of
the council, people approached him with names of
philanthropists, and he was showered with positive feedback. And
the resistance he expected to find in the often-entrenched and
territorial world of activists, nonprofits, and NGOs simply
never materialized.
“We thought that the high officials in the UN would
say, 'The UN is already doing this,' remembers von Uexkull.
“Instead, we got an enthusiastic endorsement from Boutros
Boutros-Ghali, the former UN Secretary-General. Then I thought
that futurists were going to say, 'Why are you trying to create
a new futurist organization?' Instead, we got letters from heads
of major futurist organizations asking, 'When can we start
working with the council?' Then I thought the NGOs would tell us
that the idea was too top-heavy. Instead, I was invited to speak
at one of their conferences, and the response was very positive.
There's a feeling that this is something that is missing in the
international global governance structure, which we need to
build up as soon as possible.”
Victor Hugo once observed that nothing is more powerful than
an idea whose time has come. The WFCI, it seemed, was one of
those rare visions whose arrival in this world somehow included
an already passionate constituency. And von Uexkull realized
that he had an obligation to respond. Without knowing it, he had
sealed his own fate that day on the radio. For a globally minded
activist with a deep concern about the state of the world, who
had for too long watched the inefficiency and impotence of so
many of the better angels of world politics, there was nothing
left to do but sign up for the revolution he had set in motion.