Creative Altruism

For me, possibly the greatest moment in American history came when George Washington declined to serve a third term as President and retired to Mt. Vernon.  At that time, he was held in such reverence that many proclaimed he should be declared king for life.  With his altruistic refusal to let that happen, he established once and for all the democratic nature of the American republic, and ensured the legacy of peaceful transition of office needed for its continuance.   He was following the example of Cincinnatus, the Roman farmer general, who, after heroically defending Rome from invasion, refused further office and retired to his farm, guaranteeing the rule of civil over military government for his and future generations.  A Society of the Cincinnati, composed of descendants of Revolutionary War officers,  exists to this day in Washington, D.C. to further the ideals of both Washington and Cincinnatus.

And they, of course, were probably following the even more ancient example of Solon, the great Athenian statesman, who, when asked to write a Constitution for the new Athenian democratic city state, included as its final clause, that on its passage he, Solon, should be exiled for life from Athens.  He truly could be termed the father of democracy.  History has many such acts of creative and heroic altruism, evidence that altruism can, in fact, change the world for the better.   A few, like those I’ve mentioned, loom large and are remembered.  Most are smaller, often forgotten acts that creatively open doors to subsequent history without calling attention to the actors themselves. One of those forgotten moments may be occurring in southern Europe now.

In Spain and elsewhere, the Washington Post reports, the Euro crisis is being met with the emergence of alternative economies, in which “hours” are traded for purchase of goods and services by those who, in many cases, have no Euros for currency but plenty of time.  Banks have established accounts for what the Spanish call “turutas” and businesses are buying and selling them for their goods and services. In places like Barcelona, thousands use them, and they are emerging as an alternative currency. They represent the role of currency purely as a medium of exchange, and are imperfect at best as a store of value.  But they fill the enormous vacuum left by the financiers and corporations who have focused solely on money’s role as a store of value and ceased treating it as it was originally created to be, a non-cumbersome medium of exchange for goods and services.  They buffer ordinary people from the worst ravages of the crisis.  They represent a statement by the Occupy and other related movements that alternatives exist to an oppressive economy dominated by financial interests alone, and may be a harbinger of steps to come in the economic paradigm shift.  And they may even call financiers’ attention to their own derelictions.

It takes altruism for a business person to purchase goods with Euros and sell them for turutas.  It takes altruism for a bank to set up accounts for deposit of Turutas and not Euros.  Not the kind of grand altruism of a Washington or Cincinnatus, but possibly historic nonetheless.  Perhaps this moment will pass, leaving only a quickly forgotten ripple.  But we may be witnesses to a moment when “business as usual” steps aside for the entrance of a new way.