Power to define futures: Centering human dignity

In the Deaconess Foundation’s project Power to define Futures: Centering Human Dignity (Kohti ihmisarvoista tulevaisuusvaltaa), methods and materials were developed to ensure that everyone would have the opportunity to take part in discussions about our shared future. “Often in expert-driven futures workshops, emotions and values are overshadowed by fact-based analysis. It has been a privilege to hear the thoughts of people from diverse backgrounds and at the same time expand our own visions of the future,” Maiju Lehto and Kati Lehtiö say.

Maiju Lehto (left) and Kati Lehtiö.

At the beginning of 2023, the Deaconess Foundation’s services and activities were transformed into Ilmiöasemat (Foresight Studios or Signal Studios), where discussions about the future were held with participants and service users. The goal was to bring voices from all corners of society into the conversation about the future. In the autumn of the same year, we launched the project Power to Define Futures: Centering Human Dignity (Kohti ihmisarvoista tulevaisuusvaltaa), funded by Sitra. The power to define futures, Tulevaisuusvalta in Finnish, is one way of exercising power.

The concept of the power to define futures seeks to bring these perspectives together and look at them in terms of how power is exercised. In our project, we set out to develop new, more accessible methods and materials to support futures thinking and discussion. These methods were co-created with the clients, visitors, and employees of the Deaconess Foundation and Rinnekodit, to ensure that everyone would have the opportunity to participate when discussing our shared future.

At the start of our project, we knew we were facing a fascinating and important, yet also challenging task. A vast and unknown field lay ahead, while we stood there, work gloves on, minds full of enthusiasm and questions: would anyone even be interested in attending future workshops?

Future evokes emotions

The futures workshops have been organized for decades, but typically the voices heard have been those of experts or otherwise active influencers. This time, the conversations about our shared future included those for whom speaking about the future was entirely new, and those who either do not wish to or cannot participate in citizen panels or public discussions — or might not even know such opportunities exist.

It quickly became evident that the future evokes strong emotions. In expert-driven futures workshops, emotions and values often remain overshadowed by fact-based analysis. What surprised us the most was how emotionally charged the discussions were: people had a lot to say about the future of Finland.

The workshops often functioned like safety valves, releasing thoughts that had been brewing for a long time. Although there was space for participants to process personal experiences, the main focus remained on envisioning a shared future. Discussing it brought out a wide range of emotions, including concern and even fear.

Futurist and author Alvin Toffler wrote in his 1970 book Future Shock about the phenomenon of future shock: when familiar things in one’s environment change, the future can feel like it arrives prematurely in our lives. Toffler compared the phenomenon to culture shock, in which someone moving to a new country feels alienated by the unfamiliar language, customs, traffic habits, and food. In future shock, the familiar aspects and ways of life in one’s own environment begin to change and develop.

It is no wonder, then, that change stirs emotions — and sometimes even fear. Everyone should have the opportunity to process these feelings. And what better place to do so than in a futures workshop!

Futures discussions bring hope

Robert Jungk, who originally developed the futures workshop method, emphasized the importance of giving space to the critique phase and challenges of the present before moving on to imagining the future. The workshops we organized followed this same structure, and perhaps that is one of the reasons they worked so well.

Today’s world seems to be a crisis after crisis, and the news speaks of little else. Futures workshops offered people the opportunity to share and discuss their fears. Participants first had the chance to express their emotions, and we, as organizers, were able to use those feelings as building blocks for envisioning desirable futures. By not rushing immediately into imagining a positive future, envisioning a better Finland in 2040 did not feel overly utopian or naïve. Instead, without exception, participants found the exercise meaningful, and it left them with a hopeful feeling.

The futures workshops generated many different desirable visions of Finland in 2040. When discussing these desirable futures, nature consistently emerged as a central theme, but alongside it, issues such as equal treatment of all people and a strong desire to help others and future generations were also highlighted.

For us, the greatest reward has been hearing that participants felt more hopeful about the future after the discussions. It has made us feel hopeful as well. It has been a privilege to hear the thoughts of so many different people and, at the same time, to expand our own perspectives on the future. These encounters have stirred emotions in us as organizers too: amazement at the brilliant insights people have about the future, and anger, sadness, and helplessness when confronted with how society treats, for example, people living with addiction disease.

Three months, 109 participants, and 18 workshops have also provided a clear answer to our original question: people are indeed interested in discussing the future — as long as they are given the opportunity.