Four Scenarios for Humanity Based on Rolling Stones Guitarist Keith Richards’ Life

Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones is known as a rock’n’roll survivor. Unlike mythologized stars like Janis, Jimi, Jim, Kurt and Amy, who all died young, Keith is still with us. And not only that: He’s had an amazingly eventful and crazy life with several near-death experiences. Over the years, sensationalist music journalists, fans and other close observers have speculated on his self-destruction many times, but surprisingly Keith is still with us. With us on the global stages, touring the world with an old Fender Telecaster and a cheeky grin on his lips.

Sometimes I think of our planet as being a bit like Keith. A survivor that has been through remarkable things: Ice ages, supervolcano eruptions, asteroid impacts and so on. And now it seems like good old Earth is up for another big challenge: The Anthropocene – this era where the clever, fast, ruthless organisms called humans geo-engineer and hack their way into the planet.

So what are some plausible scenarios for us humans on this planet? Well, here are four of them based on some of the eras in the Keith Richards’ life:


1. Mischievous Lad

Keith 1965 (CC BY-SA 2.0 – Kevin Delaney)

The Rolling Stones formed in London in 1962. In the swinging 60s London, there was a naive belief that rhythm & blues and rock & roll could change the world. And it actually did. Keith and his merry band of musicians built on the old American rhythm and blues tradition, and turned it into something of their own. Together with other young mischievous lads like The Beatles and The Who they took the world by storm and global domination ensued.

But long West End nights at places like The Marquee Club were often followed by early morning flights to gigs in other countries. This lifestyle required stimulation beyond natural and legal highs. Amphetamines and other drugs were needed to keep playing and partying.


In the Mischievous Lad future we’ll all keep on playing the game. We’ll keep on churning out hit songs, like there is no tomorrow. We’ll go on never-ending global tours because the show must go on. Just as Keith and his fellow 60s musician friends were fuelled by “uppers”, the planetary citizens in this future will be fuelled by various drugs and medications to keep us going.


2. Elegantly Wasted

Keith 1972 (CC BY-SA 2.0 Dina Regine)

In the late 60s and early 70s Keith Richards turned into an enigmatic, globetrotting counter-culture hero. Like other elegantly wasted aristocrats, successful artists and rich debauched heirs, The Rolling Stones set up camp on the French Riviera for the summer. In 1971, Keith reigned like a king in the Stones’ rented villa at Villefranche-sûr-Mer outside of Nice. Here, surrounded by his friends, he waterskied and entertained princes, writers and mannequins by day, drank bourbon and recorded incredible music by night. He could do whatever he wanted to do. However, the British tax authorities, various drug dealers, former girlfriends and others were on his back.


In the Elegantly Wasted future we will have lots of fun, since we will do what we like to do. We won’t have any money or material wealth but we will have lots of friends. The space we inhabit will look very different, where most things are derelict and overgrown with plants and scattered with strange technological gadgets. Essential societal institutions like hospitals and fire departments will still function. Many of us will die on the way to this future but those who survive will thrive.

3. Heroin Casualty

Keith 1982 (CC BY-SA 3.0, Gorupdebesanez)

The elegantly wasted Keith sunk deeper down during the 70s, and in the 80s many counted him out as his severe heroin habit got in the way of his creativity and life. He was rumoured to have replaced all his blood at a special clinic in Switzerland because it was so toxic and could kill him from within (!) He was emaciated, dark and gloomy – a ghostly shell of his former gloriously, elegantly wasted self. The cheeky grin was gone.


Too much excess, wild weather and apocalyptic events make way for the Heroin Casualty future – a scenario, which feels like sleeping on a damp mattress in a dark and gloomy basement. The Heroin Casualty future is a bit like those dystopian zombie futures we’ve seen in the movies, but where the narrator has a constant flu with accompanying phlegmy cough. Our vital infrastructures have collapsed. All is dark and the streets are full of lethal threats and diseases. The global society in the Heroin Casualty scenario is all but resilient, as all systems are out and only the faintest of reserves remain. A virus outbreak could end all life.


4. Captain Jack Sparrow’s Dad

Keith 2008 (CC BY 3.0, Siebbi)


Keith survived the cold, lethal period. And from the 90s and onwards he’s taken on a crazy, colourful and unpredictable character: The role as Captain Jack Sparrow’s dad in the Pirates of the Caribbean films. Johnny Depp, who plays the charismatic captain, is friends with Keith, and when asked if he wanted to star in the sequels, Richards said yes. He had always considered himself a pirate, so why not?

Captain Jack Sparrow’s dad was once the most feared pirate in the world, so is highly respected and feared by all the pirates in the Brethren Court. He was once the Pirate Lord of Madagascar but later resigned to become the Keeper of the Pirate Code, the Pirata Codex, which he keeps with him at Shipwreck Cove.


The Captain Jack Sparrow’s Dad future is similar to the Pirate future, which is propagated by many thinkers and hackers around the world today. A global, transparent future based on direct democracy, where all is open and free, as pioneered by The Pirate Bay and various European pirate parties.

Captain Jack Sparrow’s dad is however different from the regular Pirate future. This future is older, wiser but slightly erratic and nutty. The Captain Jack Sparrow’s dad future has been to hell and back, but on the way it went through a fundamental paradigm shift. It is something of a wise fool with its youthful cheeky grin intact, but with strange beads and braids in the hair.


Keith Richards is still alive and a fifth scenario for the future of humanity will be added to this list when we have identified it. Or as Keith himself puts it:

“I don’t want to see my old friend Lucifer just yet. He’s the guy I’m gonna see, isn’t it? I’m not going to the Other Place, let’s face it.”



With apologies to Jim Dator for (ab)using his four Alternative Futures archetypes.




“The thing I hate the most about advertising is that it attracts all the bright, creative and ambitious young people, leaving us mainly with the slow and self-obsessed to become our artists. Modern art is a disaster area. Never in the field of human history has so much been used by so many to say so little.”
― Banksy


A couple of years ago I had a very nice conversation in Melbourne with Richard Slaughter, one of the giants of futures studies. We talked about foresight, Melbourne street art, post-conventional leadership and many other things. He advised me/us to do two things;

  1. Create infrastructure which builds social foresight.
  2. Identify and highlight absurdities, which need to be challenged.

The first is something I try to do in my main two projects at the moment, Superherospaces and Enkel.

The second is something I haven’t paid much attention to since I talked to Richard. Of course I identify and highlight absurdities here in my blog, but I don’t actively work to do it. Perhaps that’s the role of this blog….?

Richard especially mentioned one such absurdity, which seemed to be of great concern to him; the glossy magazines which come with our major newspapers on Saturdays and Sundays. The weekend lifestyle magazines, full of ads which aim to perpetuate the unsustainable lifestyle of the developed world: The clean, airbrushed perfect lifestyle, which doesn’t exist.

Today, we in the developed world understand this. We know that these images are as true as Santa Claus. We have learnt that this glossy life only exists in Vanity Fair articles and George Clooney films. We know that it has nothing to do with reality and that gloss doesn’t equal happiness, but rather Sertraline, divorce and addiction.

But the issue is that we’ve made the developing world believe that gloss means happiness. We have inspired China, Brazil, India and other countries, which are slowly pulling themselves out of poverty to head into gloss. This is why we see the Chinese line up outside the Louis Vuitton and Prada shops in London, NYC, Paris and Tokyo.

They want to become glossy.


A form of societal changemaking which fascinates me now, is the concept of  ‘systems acupuncture’. This approach involves to identify and intervene through systemic pressure points or critical spots in society. Instead of massive incremental change, or radical violent change, this rather builds on small, smart actions, directed towards sensitive areas.

One of these so-called “societal acupoints” is advertising, which the people behind non-profit organisation Adbusters realised years ago. They are probably the advocates and activists sticking the sharpest acupuncture needles into the advertising industry today.

But there are others.

  • The blog Zen Habits recently suggested that “the biggest obstacle to a wonderfully minimalist life is advertising”.
  • Lei Cidade Limpa is a 2006 law in the city Sao Paolo, which  prohibits advertising such as that of outdoor posters.
  • Commercial Alert is a non-profit that opposes advertising to children and the commercialization of culture, education, and government.

The challenge for these organisations and lawmakers is that we humans love gloss. We love George Clooney, Vanity Fair articles, beautiful people, old Bugattis, Rolex watches and Riva boats.

But that doesn’t mean we need them on our breakfast table on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

I don’t think we in the developed world need advertising any longer. We’re past that.

In fact no one in the world needs advertising I guess.

So let’s think about how we can change things to pay people who work in the ad industry to make art and comedy instead.

I’m sure Banksy and Richard Slaughter would like that.

Nine Metaphors for a Futurist

Initially this post was to be called ‘Dress Code for Futurists’. After spending five years with futurists from over the world, I wanted to find out whether there was a particular way to dress for futurists. Doctors, plumbers, history teachers, clowns and other professions have their own dress code, whether it’s prescribed or not. But I haven’t been able to decode the futurist dress code yet.

We futurists are privileged (or at least some are) to work with diverse groups of people. We work with corporate clients, startups, religious groups, community groups, governments and more. Some futurists seem to dress the same no matter who they work with. To them it doesn’t matter how they dress. Some wear a suit, some wear a t-shirt, and some a gimmick like a huge beard, a hat or colorful, big glasses.

In my foresight master’s program, we were often advised to “meet the system where it’s at”, i.e. to adapt ourselves to the context, organisation and people for which we do foresight work. And naturally, the language you use, the clothes you wear, and your general appearance will have impact on your foresight intervention.

Instead of exploring outer appearance such as clothes, I realised that I’ve actually been exploring this idea of general appearance in metaphors over the past year in my APF blog posts…

So, in which forms and shapes can we futurists appear? Here’s a summary of some old and new metaphors, so they can all be found in one place. Hence the title of this post; 9 metaphors for futurists:

1. The Trickster


My interest in metaphors for futurists started with the Trickster  – a character found in many myths. Tricksters are often found on the road or at the edge of town, sometimes helping, sometimes hindering people. They have prophetic qualities, but in contrast to other prophets, tricksters steal, cheat and lie to deliver their message.

Futurist as Trickster, is consequently a figure who works between organisations, cultures and paradigms. Larry Ellis writes that the trickster “dabbles in the creation of the world that will be, and provides tools, food, and clothing to the people who will inhabit that world. He may assume an array of contradictory personae in the course of a single narrative, moving from one to the other with the skill of a practiced shape-shifter while tripping on his tail at every turn.”


2. The Clown


The Clown is related to the Trickster. According to Wikipedia, in Native American mythology, the “Trickster channels the spirit of the Coyote and becomes a sacred Clown character”.

Today we often think of a clown as a clumsy, colorful character performing slap-stick with a red nose and big shoes. Traditionally, he played a quite different role though – the one of a sociological and psychological healer, similar to a priest. In Redeeming Laughter: The Comic Dimension of Human Experience, Peter Berger writes that “It seems plausible that folly and fools, like religion and magic, meet some deeply rooted needs in human society”.

The Clown Futurist can make use of traditional clown techniques to meet clients’ needs. Beyond a funny red nose and a wig there are potentially other things the futurist can learn by studying the history of the clown. Communication skills, engaging clients, and holding up a mirror to society are some of these.


3. The Artist


In a post from last year on business models for futurists, I looked briefly at how futurists could model their foresight practice and consulting on the artist/patron model. The Artist Futurist paints, crafts or dreams up beautiful or provocative scenarios; images of the future. The patron-client rewards the artist with money or other support. The artwork will hopefully help the client towards their preferred futures. Sometimes the artwork is too challenging for the client. The colours are too bright or the motif too disturbing. At other times, the artwork is too commercial and derivative to have transformative impact. A good Artist Futurist finds a balance.


4. The Outsider


Swedish academic Claes Janssen devised an ‘outsider scale‘ in the 1960s and 70s. Here individuals are placed on a scale from 0 to 24 after doing a psychometric test, where 24 is the highest and considered most “outsider”. Most futurists I have tested are far out towards the outsider end on this scale. According to Janssen’s psychological theories, a high outsider score can be good when it is integrated in a person, but challenging when non-integrated. Or simply said; life is easier for the outsider who accepts being an outsider than for one who doesn’t.

Most futurists are outsiders. Organisational futurists are always outsiders. Hines (2005) is more diplomatic and writes that the “inside-outsider must be mobile and not place a high value on having a long-term career in the organisation, because to be most effective you must be willing to commit career suicide on a regular basis.”

This role is at times hard to play, since an outsider never belongs on the inside. Therefore it’s key that the Outsider Futurist finds other communities to which they can belong.


5. The Svengali


The Svengali is one of the shadow sides of the futurist. From my earlier post:

“According to Wiktionary a Svengali is “one who manipulates or controls another as by some mesmeric or sinister influence; especially a coach, mentor or industry mogul”. Originally a character in George du Maurier’s 1895 novel Trilby, it is now used widely for creepy behind-the-scenes manipulators in the music industry, politics and elsewhere.

The Svengali futurist loves to float above and observe systems, analyse, interpret and anticipate for others. This part of us often gets bored with details, funding and practicalities, and rather step back to the lurking position behind the scene.”


6. The Entrepreneur


There are two aspects of entrepreneurship that especially intrigue me. One is Schumpeter’s ‘creative destruction’, and the other the notion that entrepreneurs often build structures before they have access to the resources needed to build these. This slightly delusional trait is sometimes described as entrepreneurial risk-taking.

Futurists, like psychologists, are entrepreneurs of the mind. The creative destruction occurs when the futurist works to destroy old ways of thinking in order to create new. And the structures, to which the Entrepreneur Futurist has no access at first, are formed within the clients’ individual or collective mind. A good scenario crafted by  can be a dangerously creative destroyer of old mindsets.


7. The Interpreter


I explored Futurist as Interpreter here. A quote:

“An interpreter helps people who don’t speak the same language make sense of each other. And in the same way as language is a construct to make sense of the world, a worldview is another construct for sense-making. One role of the futurist is to interpret between worldviews, to help people make sense of other people.


8. The Explorer


Last year I worked with a large coworking space in Melbourne to crowdsource the future of that community. We used Shackleton’s 1914 expedition to the South Pole as a metaphor for the journey – an exploration to a distant region, with lots of dangers. But with a great team of explorers which feared nothing, and together reached places, which we don’t often reach in our individual explorations.

The futurist always explores the future. And in this metaphor the future is the destination. But a destination that we create ourselves in the sense as John Schaar describes it: “The future is not some place we are going, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found, but made. And the activity of making them changes both the maker and the destination.”

The Explorer Futurist explores and creates the future.

9. The Wanderer


This nomadic type of futurist wanders the world of knowledge without knowing where to go. He’s similar to the trickster and explorer archetypes, but without a destination. He is constantly led astray by new fascinating ideas, technologies or articles, and is looking for a home. But he will never find it. This archetype is forever roaming the field of the future.

Historically, this archetype was an integral part of societies, but increasingly the vagrants, flâneurs, nomads and vagabonds disappear from our physical world. Now they only thrive online in their digital wanderings.

To others, the Wanderer Futurist can seem to be lost. But they are not, since they don’t walk to reach a destination. They wander because they love to wander.


Phew… That’s it. No more metaphors for now!




All images from Wikimedia Commons

Hines, A 2005, ‘Ten Questions Every Organisational Futurist Should Be Able to Answer’, in Slaughter, RA (ed), The knowledge base of futures studies, 5 vols, CD-ROM, Professional edn, Foresight International, Brisbane.


This post was originally written for the Association of Professional Futurists.


Some of my issues…


This image came up on Facebook yesterday, with the heading: We can now only watch as West Antarctica’s ice sheets collapse, and a link to an article written by a researcher at  ANU College of Physical and Mathematical Sciences at Australian National University.

And we all reacted in different ways;

“Oh my God! This is terrible!!! But I better keep calm and carry on. We will solve this together”

“Shut the fuck up! Who’s this ANU researcher? Who funded him?”

“Here we go again… Another article about climate change and melting ice… Booooring!!!!

etc etc…


Around five, six years ago, these articles had a profound effect on me. I started to really grasp that it was up to all of us (including me) to change ourselves if we were to avoid serious consequences of climate change. And by change I don’t mean starting to recycle or drive or fly less. No, I realised that we needed to change big-time. Change the games we play.

So I decided sometime back then that I couldn’t play the game any more. The game called “Work hard in the current paradigm and all will be fine” or something along those lines. Sometimes, since then, I have tried to re-enter that game, but haven’t been allowed in. I’m not welcome to play and have finally accepted this. I am doomed to observe from the outside. Or build a new game…

Back then, I came across this Buckminster Fuller quote:

“You never change things by fighting the existing reality.
To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.”

And like most of the people who inspire me and who I play with now, I took that quote to heart. We need new models. But we don’t know what these are. We have to build them without plans, goals and instructions. There are some hints of course, but we have to stay with uncertainty and trust emergence. We have to move together, slowly and blind-folded, towards what feels right, rather than what we think is right, in these postnormal times.

Futurist and writer Zia Sardar defines postnormal times as:

“All that was ‘normal’ has now evaporated; we have entered postnormal times, the in between period where old orthodoxies are dying, new ones have not yet emerged, and nothing really makes sense. To have any notion of a viable future, we must grasp the significance of this period of transition which is characterized by three c’s: complexity, chaos and contradictions.”

We won’t know what these new models that Buckminster Fuller talked about look like. But we start to understand what things no longer work. And these are no longer small things. These are huge, deeply ingrained and trusted models in our societies. Models that have worked until now. Models that have pulled billions of people out of poverty. Models that have increased our life spans with many decades. Models that have given us comfort and wealth. But now they are obsolete. And we have to listen to Buckminster Fuller. We have to stop fighting them or try fixing them. We have to let go of them and start to build new models.

Here are some of the current models which bother me and I think are obsolete:

1. Democracy

2. Hard Work

3. Cars

4. Settling

5. Heroic entrepreneurship (a.k.a. dickhead entrepreneurship)

Over the next couple of weeks I will post on each of these – my issues. Perhaps this will allow me to let go of them slightly. They bother me a lot, but if I write down my thoughts on them I hope I’ll feel lighter.

I believe that we’ll have to replace these five with “something else” if we are to avoid catastrophic global collapse. And the good thing is that many people have worked on this for a while now 🙂

The Mystery Train – A new model for thinking about the future



Some futurists, including me, are obsessed by process.

Joseph Voros’ Generic Foresight Process, IDEO’s Design Thinking Process, Otto Scharmer’s Theory U, Graham Wallas’ Creative Process and Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey are some, which I have obsessed over in recent years.

As you know, a process never describes what reality looks like. Reality is always more complex and messy. The beautiful randomness of  life is too hard to illustrate in a nice linear process.

I tried to illustrate my life at the moment and ended up with this image. I call this process The Mystery Train.

Communicating Complexity

Complex things are hard to communicate. But it’s nevertheless important to do it. Here are some of my reflections on how to communicate futures thinking or foresight – the rather complex field I’m working in.

You might find some advice on how to communicate the complexities of your field. The post appeared first at the APF Emerging Fellows website.


Communicating Foresight

One of the ongoing discussions in the futurist community is about how to communicate foresight. Recently a whole issue in Journal of Futures Studies was dedicated to this, and over the last year some excellent posts by my fellow emerging APF fellows have been written on this.

This is the last post in a series on my reflections about communicating foresight. In the first I wrote about how mixed metaphors can be used to illustrate the increased complexity in our organisations and lives. In the second I rapidly prototyped a website for a new imagined start-up; Futurizers: A Guerrilla Network that Injects the Future in Organizations.

I don’t know how well I communicated foresight in these two posts (in its first month the Futurizers website had 114 hits – so not exactly a revolutionary impact…), but they gave me some new insights which lead me to think further on a good article by Richard Rowe (2005).

The challenge of the upside-down pyramid 

Rowe uses Slaughter’s framework for layered futures.  He illustrates the amount of contact with the general public each type of futures work has. As you see in the figure, the second pyramid is turned upside-down, i.e. the more “deep” and important futures work is, the less contact with the general public it has.   

Image by author based on Rowe (2005)

Rowe writes: “The problem is that highest level, being pop, is the level that has the most interaction with the general population. It is also the level that the futures practitioners tend to disown because it tends to be shallow, misleading, shortsighted and marketing driven. The deeper you descend into the layers of foresight studies, the less contact there is with the general public and the fewer messages of depth and richness filter into the broader population.”

I’ve noticed recently that futurists increasingly post in open forums like Facebook and Google+. In doing this it’s tempting to fall for the Facebook “like” hysteria, i.e. aim to attract more “likes” for that which we communicate. But how do we make sure that we don’t slip up towards the pop futures and litany layer when doing this? Sure, we can use “litany hooks” to attract attention for our posts, but we must communicate deeper layers too if we want to do our job properly.

A service to our readers

Some bloggers write how many minutes it takes to read a blog as a service to their busy readers. I thought about a similar service for my blog regarding the difficulty of my posts, for example some sort of colour coding to indicate how theory-heavy or deep my posts are. Then my parents and non-futurist friends wouldn’t have to bother with some posts – such as the networked spiral dynamics post I posted recently (maybe the title itself scared them off).

Would a colour-coding system be handy to make it clearer for everyone or does this go against the idea of engaging the general public deeply?

For a colour coding structure from easy to hard, I thought about using Inayatullah’s (1998) Causal Layered Analysis (CLA), and the same colour scheme ski resorts use to show the various difficulties of downhill runs.

Image by author based on Inayatullah (1998)

Here, the articles would be coded from green litany (sensational posts based on recent issues) to more challenging posts exploring underlying systemic causes (blue – systems). Further down to thoughts and reflections containing worldviews (red – here you lose most readers!) and lastly even deeper to the black myths and metaphor layer, where (surprise!) you can actually attract your readers back.

So even if this deepest level is seemingly the most difficult one to understand, the communicating power here is very strong.

And this is what I find so beautiful in the CLA; the deepest, most unattainable layer is paradoxically also the most universal. Myths, metaphors and archetypal patterns and stories are understood by, and give opportunity to identification across worldviews and cultures. This is the planetary layer. I’m no expert on CLA, but I think this is what Inayatullah aims to do. To safely bring people down to the deepest layer, where we momentarily can feel and play with the essence of ourselves again. Past the litany, systems and worldviews and back to the original human myth and its evolution.

In reflection on my futures-heavy Facebook posts, I consider that some of the most thoughtful responses I’ve had are not from futurists or academics. They are from old school friends, people I’ve met when travelling or at the pub. Amazing, everyday people you meet in life. This makes me think that perhaps the general public is ready for deep futures past the litany of self-driving cars and drones? So, while the analysis of CLA is worthwhile, perhaps colour coding is counter productive. If the general public are ready to access the myths and metaphors of the black layer they should not be deterred by any colour coding advice – that would serve only to underestimate my readers.

Perhaps the challenge of Rowe’s upside-down pyramid can actually be tackled with some simple tricks, such as story telling, metaphor and images?

The Hourglass

I imagine the process of deepening foresight communication as grains of sand running through an hourglass. The gravity originating from the myth / metaphor level pulls down the grain of sand towards the depths.

Image by author based on Inayatullah (1998)

The litany layer contains thousands of grains of sand, quite happily sitting there comfortably, without noticing that they are being pulled down towards the vortex by the gravity from the depths. Superficial, simplistic chitchat and diversions act at this layer to make grains here unaware of the evolutionary forces bringing them deeper. Perhaps someone is pumping in helium in this section of the hourglass to make the grains stay longer? 

But the grains are eventually drawn deeper down the vortex to the systems level, which is complex, faster and more turbulent. Here, grains can bump into each other fight a lot. The bottleneck between the systems and worldviews layers is blocking much progress – not many grains can pass through. But once a grain of sand falls through the narrow gap into the worldviews and values level, the mind opens again, and there’s more space. This expanded section contains many grains of sand but they don’t know where to go. However, they sink deeper and deeper as more grains of sand land. And here, they become part of the deep, bottomless foundation that is humanity and all life.

Photo by author. Painting by Rothko (1958)



I spent some time in the Rothko room at London’s Tate Modern on Sunday morning. Being there made me realise that great artists communicate across all levels from the litany to the deep unconscious levels simultaneously. In the calming room, a group of drawing teenagers, a retired old lady and family with a pram were all absorbed in the massive Seagram Murals.

Who knows what these people thought and felt – what layer or depth they experienced?

I only know what I thought and felt about:

What can we learn from great artists to better communicate foresight?



Inayatullah, S 1998, ‘Causal layered analysis: poststructuralism as method’, Futures, vol. 30, no. 8, pp. 815-29.

Ramos, J 2012, ‘ Special Edition on the Communication of Foresight’, Journal of Futures Studies, September, vol. 17, no. 1, pp. 91-98.

Rothko, M 1958, The Seagram Murals, Tate Modern Gallery, London. 

Rowe, R 2005, ‘Sticky foresight: finding the future’s tipping point’, in Slaughter, RA (ed), The knowledge base of futures studies, 5 vols, CD-ROM, Professional edn, Foresight International, Brisbane.

Slaughter, RA 2004, Futures beyond dystopia: creating social foresight, Routledge, London.