Christopher Peterka - Your Choice

From my first entrepreneurial steps from inside a school yard at the age of 16 and over the years of many startups and partnerships with new and interesting people, I have always been fascinated by the creative potential of the human being and of being human. As the child of two civil servants, growing up in a conservative, guarded environment, this was what gave me then, as it does now, the energy to set out afresh over and over again, to get up and start something new, to turn ideas into reality.

The greater therefore the pain I feel—right down to a physical sense of claustrophobia, clamming up, and sadness—when I see how many of the people I meet hold on to versions of themselves, to roles, and business models, that belong to the past, as if there were no alternatives. Alternatives which can light up a spark in the eyes and coax a smile from the lips of anyone the moment you start talking about them.

Over the years—about twenty now—that I’ve been travelling around the world, tracking future developments, I have discovered that this smile, this spark nourishes me. It motivates me to talk about these alternatives, about new possibilities, and about new avenues, and to do so in public, more and more. Which takes me right back to the sentiment expressed above from the ›meteorite‹.

Time and again I’ve been asked by friends, colleagues, and partners: why do you do this? Why do you fly to São Paulo for three days to meet the curator of the art Biennale and ask him why he is staging his ›exhibition‹ within empty exhibition halls? Why do you have to meet the mayor of Reykjavik or the developer of social housing in Johannesburg? Are you writing a thesis? Are you making a film? What’s the point of it all?

The answer lies in this book—at last. After two failed attempts that I made during the last three years, I now, since the summer of 2018, have found the accomplices, in a marvellously easy manner and right within my network, with whom I’ve been able to collate my observations, reflections, and ideas for a healthier life for us together on our planet.

Which leads me to express my thanks: to my ›thinking pen‹, Sebastian Michael, who after ten years of mutual radio silence suddenly—as it happens via Facebook Messenger—got in touch and who in a captivating manner understands to process thoughts and words, and seasons them with insight from his own wealth of experience. To Lars Zöllner, who immediately and with acute precision made a connection to Murmann Publishers. To Adrian Iselin who took Sebastian’s English text and translated it at enormous speed and with great personal identification with the subject matter into German.

And last but obviously not least to Johann and Josephine, my two wonderful children, who give me the discipline and determination to explore each day with new wonder at what it means to be a Progressive Optimist. Because if I look forward to one thing, it is the day when they will ask me: ›Dad, what did you do at that time, in 2020, when everything was at stake for planet Earth?‹ Unlike the many admirable activists, scientists, entrepreneurs, and engaged humans who contribute in much more effective ways towards a positive vision and—even more important—tangible models for our planet, I can say at least: ›I authored a book. I dared. I had the courage to speak of love, of humanity, of progress, and to invite everyone out there to talk about more than just the next hot business model‹.

So do think of this book as a hug, even if that sounds a little strange. After all, we mostly don’t know each other. Yet.

But we—and now I have to include in this Sebastian, because he put into words everything that follows from here on in—we love you. For being human. And we want to be able to say this without sounding corny or ›hippy‹ or giving off the vibe that we’ve swallowed a couple of tabs each half an hour ago. This book comes from a love of humanity. It comes with a sense of urgency, and we hope it comes as a friendly gesture. The Irish have a saying: »There are no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met.«

Which is also why we are trying to talk to you at eye level. Neither of us are ›experts‹. So you could also say it’s presumptuous of us to even sit down and write the book. But we do have a fair bit of knowledge and experience from all the work we’ve done with many people who are better qualified than us and whom we therefore consider our teachers. And so if at any one point while reading this book you get the impression that we might be fancying ourselves a bit as teachers, then let us qualify this with something Jack Ma said, the co-founder of Alibaba. Alibaba, if you don’t already know, is one of the ten most highly valued companies in the world and the world’s largest retailer and e-commerce corporation. We also quote him elsewhere in this book.

In a conversation at the World Economic Forum (WEF) in Davos he said, »Being a teacher does not mean that I am better than you are. Everything I know better than you, I learnt from others. So a teacher should learn all the time. A teacher should share all the time. A teacher should always expect other people to be better than [they] are.« And in that sense, we are glad to be teachers and learners and sharers. And we are self-evidently your brothers and your friends. Can two people be all these things at the same time? Absolutely. That’s the beauty of the age we live in.

Welcome to the Digital Modern era.

Christopher Peterka, Planet Earth, 2019

You’re awesome.

Seriously: even without recording yourself as you do a backflip through a hoop and getting the clip included in a YouTube compilation, you’re already an extraordinary creature. Your body is beautiful: it’s a finely tuned organism that is exceptionally adaptable to its environment; and long before you’ve put it to any use, your brain is the most complex thing known to humankind. You are genuinely amazing.

But you’re also a Dumb Fuck.

You’re a Dumb Fuck because you trust Mark Zuckerberg with your data. And it’s not us calling you a Dumb Fuck, it’s Mark Zuckerberg himself: he calls us all Dumb Fucks, and he’s right: we’re all Dumb Fucks for trusting him with our data.

If you’re one of the few people who don’t, and you don’t have a Facebook account, or you don’t use it, then congratulations. Just don’t celebrate too soon: if you trust any of the big digital players anywhere in the world with your data, you’re giving yourself away.

[YOU ARE WARE. DISPOSABLE, EXPLOITABLE, SELLABLE.]

You’re giving away everything there is to know about you: you are ware. Disposable, exploitable, sellable. And they do sell you. To their advertisers, to each other, mostly though back to you: they get to know you so well that they can not only sell you the things you want, they can easily make you want the things they sell. They can make you believe things you never thought could be true, and they can make you doubt what you always took for granted. They own you.

And yet: don’t beat yourself up too much about this either. Because you may not have much choice. You’re living in a world where very soon there will be perhaps seven or eight digital ›superstates‹ that control every significant transaction any of us are ever likely to conduct.

Social media was just the start. China is on a trajectory where your social profile and public conduct is directly linked to your bank account and your ability to travel. Your physical life and your online existence are tightly meshed together. If you cross the street in Shenzhen when the red man is showing and the face recognition software captures you, you don’t even get sent a fine: the money is taken from your account automatically, and your social credit is docked. And while you still glance at the wallet on your smartphone in consternation, everybody around you is staring at the big roadside screen, which shows the world your face and shames you for having gone against the ›common good‹…