May 15, 2026

Civics

Why I still hold onto some of my flower-child hope

I came of age in the late 1960s and early 1970s when pop songs promised revolution and the distance between what we could imagine and what we could build felt easy to cross. In less than fifteen years, our culture underwent profound shifts in racial justice, gender equality, ecological awareness, and attitudes toward American power—changes so rapid they seemed to prove that consciousness itself could reshape the world.

But the backlash came with a stunning force and persistence. As strong and steady as a full-moon tide, it revealed how deeply we had misunderstood both the entrenched power of the systems we are trying to change and the number of people who experience our liberation as their loss.

Today, it is hard to look at voting rights, women’s rights, wealth concentration, or planetary health and have much faith that we are better positioned than we were a generation ago. Given this reality, how can anyone seriously argue that consciousness is evolving—that humanity is learning, or moving toward anything other than collapse?

To understand why I still hold onto some of my flower-child hope, it helps to step back and look at how people make meaning, how worldviews form and shift, and why transformation is never as simple as we want it to be.

Can our species learn to get along? There may be no definitive answer to what is ultimately an existential question. But there is at least one framework that I find illuminating. It suggests that the tension we are experiencing today—between people embracing planetary consciousness on one side and others racing toward billionaire excesses on the other—emerges because individuals operate from fundamentally different levels of consciousness. It does not explain how to resolve that tension, but it does help explain why it exists. And it suggests that, given the right conditions and support, human beings have the capacity to evolve toward more holistic ways of understanding the world.

Spiral Dynamics 101

Spiral Dynamics is a framework for understanding how human consciousness develops in response to changing life conditions. It is a map of how people make meaning at different stages of development, and a model that shows how value systems emerge, clash, and evolve.

It does not promise easy answers or guarantee happy outcomes. But it does offer a way to understand why what looks like moral failure may sometimes be developmental crosstalk—and why the practices that seem small or insufficient may actually be what a learning species looks like in the messy middle of transformation.

Spiral Dynamics grew out of mid-century research by psychologist Clare W. Graves into why people can see the world in such radically different ways. His conclusion was that while we are never simply right or wrong, we are often operating from fundamentally different value systems. Not coincidentally, these value systems are directly shaped by different life conditions.

We are not divided into the clear-sighted and the deluded. Instead, we inhabit different developmental realities shaped by different life conditions.

This last point is important, so I’m going to say it again: No one is just getting it wrong. Each person is responding coherently to the world as they experience it, from value systems that may be utterly foreign to ours.

Graves also observed that development is neither linear nor guaranteed. New ways of thinking tend to emerge only when older ones can no longer manage the complexity that life presents.

So when a generation of relatively secure, educated young people in the 60s and early 70s suddenly prioritized empathy, inclusion, and community over achievement and authority, it wasn't moral superiority or good music that sparked our movements. It was that life conditions—economic security, educational access, reduced existential threat—had shifted enough to make a new level of consciousness possible.

Let that one sink in.


“The psychology of the mature human being is an unfolding, emergent, oscillating, spiraling process marked by progressive subordination of older, lower-order behavior systems to newer, higher-order systems as man’s existential problems change.”
- Dr. Clare W. Graves

Spiral Dynamics proposes that people move through different stages of development, each shaped by the conditions of their lives and organized around a distinct set of values and assumptions. To make these patterns easier to recognize, the model uses color codes to describe different stages—to borrow a phrase from the 60s, “where people are at.” The point is not that one color is “good” and another “bad,” but that each represents a different way of understanding the world and responding to its challenges.

Beige — Survival

At Beige, all attention centers on staying alive: finding food, water, warmth, and safety. Experience is immediate and bodily. There is little concern for yesterday or tomorrow—only for getting through the present moment.

Purple — Tribal Belonging

At Purple, safety comes through the group: family, clan, tribe. The world makes sense through stories, rituals, ancestors, and unseen forces. Loyalty, tradition, and belonging matter most.

Red — Power and Dominance

At Red, the world is a contest of strength. Power, courage, and the ability to assert yourself determine who prevails. Immediate gratification, bold action, and respect for force shape decision-making. Might makes right.

Blue — Order and Authority

At Blue, meaning comes from clear rules, defined roles, and moral codes. There is a right way and a wrong way, with consequences attached to each. Duty, discipline, and delayed gratification matter.

Orange — Achievement and Strategy

At Orange, success and progress drive everything. Reason, evidence, innovation, and strategic thinking guide action. The world becomes a field of opportunity where people improve their position through skill, effort, and competition.

Green — Equality and Community

At Green, empathy, inclusion, and fairness take priority. Attention shifts toward relationships, feelings, shared decision-making, and repairing the harm created by competitive, hierarchical systems. Every voice deserves to be heard.

Yellow — Integrative Systems Thinking

At Yellow, people become interested in how all these value systems interact. Complexity and paradox can be tolerated. Different tools and perspectives are used pragmatically rather than defended as absolute truths.

Turquoise — Planetary Consciousness

At Turquoise, self, society, and Earth are experienced as deeply interconnected. Concern extends to the entire living system—to future generations and to patterns operating across cultures, species, and time.


Central to this framework is the idea that no one is simply misguided. Each of us interprets the world through the value system that best matches the conditions we have experienced and are experiencing.

This is not a more nuanced version of Candy Land.

Importantly, Spiral Dynamics does not assume inevitable progress toward higher consciousness. Development is emergent and responsive to life conditions. Regression is always possible. Under stress, individuals and cultures can fall back into earlier value systems. Higher stages emerge only when existing systems can no longer solve current problems.

To make it even more complicated, none of us inhabits just one stage. We move between value systems depending on context and conditions. You might operate from Orange achievement at work, Blue order in your religious community, Green equality with close friends, and Red power when you feel threatened or cornered. These aren't contradictions—they're how developmental complexity actually works in real people living real lives.

The framework is directional—it maps increasing complexity—but it offers no guarantee that humanity will continue evolving upward. We do not move to the next stage because history naturally improves. We move when remaining where we are becomes impossible.

What goes up can come down.

I began this essay by mourning the loss of my youthful innocence about how easily a new age of higher consciousness might arrive. Spiral Dynamics helps explain how gains that once felt permanent can give way to regression—how periods shaped by openness, solidarity, and shared purpose can be overtaken by fear, greed, and aggressive forms of me-first individualism.

The framework suggests that when life conditions become overwhelming—when economic security collapses, ecological threats intensify, or complexity exceeds our ability to manage it—individuals and entire societies retreat toward whichever earlier value system once made them feel safe.

The authoritarian surge, the retreat into tribal identity, the return of might-makes-right politics: these may not simply be moral failures. They may also be predictable responses to prolonged stress. Purple tribalism and Red dominance often feel safer than Green inclusivity when the ground beneath people is shaking. This is especially true for those whose security and status is new, tenuous or threatened.

This is not a treasure map.

Again, whether human consciousness is evolving, whether we can learn to live together, and whether we can move toward anything other than collapse are existential questions. Spiral Dynamics does not tell us where salvation lies.

What it does offer—at least for me—is a way to recognize the patterns unfolding around us and to understand why transformation moves so unevenly, so slowly, and against such fierce resistance.

It offers a diagnostic lens that helps explain why people can see the world so differently, why progress feels fragile, and why the practices that matter most often appear painfully small.

It shows the conditions under which higher consciousness becomes possible, though never inevitable, and helps clarify what my own work might be in helping create those conditions. Through this lens, I can better understand why personal and public investment in education, libraries, and shared infrastructure matters so much. I can see how learning to listen, cooperate, and collaborate today shapes the future. And I can hope that the kind of public investment that so clearly benefited my generation might also benefit those who come after us.

It explains the present moment without requiring me to believe that people are simply evil or stupid, while still preserving the possibility that humanity is capable of learning.

It clarifies why asking community-level practices to solve systems-level problems so often creates frustration—and what those practices may still accomplish even when they feel insufficient.

Most importantly, it helps me witness this moment with clearer eyes: to see my own immense privilege, to see regression as a response to developmental stress rather than simple moral collapse, and to recognize emergence as fragile but real.

People are complex. Societies are even more so. This framework helps me hold onto the possibility that higher-order values can emerge when older systems reveal their failures and weaknesses, and that a more integrative, planetary consciousness is still possible for our species. After all, new stages tend to emerge only when existing systems can no longer solve the problems before them. And right now, those problems are multiplying.

But there is no cosmic guarantee. There is only the conditional possibility that if conditions change, and if enough people develop the capacity to respond to greater complexity, then more mature value systems might become viable at scale.

And these days, “might” feels like a much better North Star than “I give up.”

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