PROSPENOMICS

Prospenomics is the study of prosperity and its generators, aiming to chart pathways toward a post-scarcity society, a concept anticipated by Murray Bookchin in 1971, in which technological advances and social reorganization overcome material deprivation; it proposes that once scarcity is eliminated, the market economy and its entire dynamics lose meaning, requiring us to be prepared for that day through an approach that transcends conventional paradigms of economics based on markets, prices, and accumulation, which sustain relative abundance at the cost of arduous, inefficient, and poorly distributed labor, while generating waste and environmental chaos; in contrast, it advocates the intelligent optimization of social and ecological systems to achieve shared prosperity, harmony, and sustainability, drawing both from historical examples of decisions that fostered prosperity and from the visions of thinkers such as Gene Roddenberry, who in Star Trek imagined a future where people work to develop talents and personal ambitions rather than exchange goods through money, and Buckminster Fuller, who understood prosperity not as mere material wealth or economic growth but as the assurance of well-being and sustainability for all forms of life on the planet. BASIC ARGUMENT OF PROSPENOMICS/PROSENOMY by Luiz Pagano, Setembro de 2007

terça-feira, 13 de outubro de 2026

Parties debate how to manage scarcity. Prospenomics asks what happens when scarcity is no longer the central variable.

 

For more than two centuries, virtually all economic theory and modern political debate have been built upon the same premise: resources are scarce. The left and the right disagree on countless issues, but they share this common starting point. The left has traditionally focused on how scarce resources should be distributed. The right has traditionally focused on how those resources can be produced and allocated more efficiently. Debates change, governments change, parties change, but the central question remains the same: how do we manage scarcity?

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This view was brilliantly formalized by Lionel Robbins in 1932. In An Essay on the Nature and Significance of Economic Science, Robbins defined economics as the science that studies human behavior as a relationship between ends and scarce means that have alternative uses. This definition helped organize much of twentieth-century economic thought. If resources are limited and human wants are unlimited, then the role of economics is to determine how to use what does not exist in sufficient quantity to satisfy everyone simultaneously.

Yet there is a paradox hidden inside that definition. If economics exists because of scarcity, what happens when technology begins to reduce scarcity? What happens when certain goods can be produced in ever larger quantities at ever lower costs? What happens when scarcity is no longer the dominant constraint?

In 1932, that question seemed almost philosophical. Today, it is becoming practical.

The internet was the first large-scale demonstration of this phenomenon. For thousands of years, information was expensive to reproduce. Books had to be printed, transported, and stored. Music required physical records. Movies required film stock and distribution networks. Today, a digital file can be copied billions of times at almost no cost. The first copy still requires time, effort, and investment. The second copy costs almost nothing. The millionth copy costs essentially the same. For the first time in human history, a significant part of the economy began to escape the classical logic of scarcity.

Decades before the internet transformed the world, one thinker realized that something similar could happen to society itself. In 1971, Murray Bookchin published Post-Scarcity Anarchism. It is easy to become distracted by the word "anarchism" in the title, but doing so often obscures the book's most important insight. Bookchin argued that humanity was approaching a historical threshold at which material abundance was no longer technically impossible. For the first time, technological progress made it conceivable that basic human needs could be met without requiring extreme levels of human labor.

Bookchin was the heir to a long anarchist tradition. Before him, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon challenged systems of property that concentrated wealth and power. Mikhail Bakunin criticized political hierarchies and defended decentralized forms of social organization. Peter Kropotkin argued that cooperation and mutual aid were fundamental forces in human development. Bookchin inherited much of this intellectual tradition but added a decisive element: technology.

His central question was not merely how power should be distributed. His question was what happens to power itself when scarcity ceases to dominate social life. If a society can produce material abundance with far less effort than in the past, does it still make sense to preserve institutions designed for a world defined by permanent shortage?

That question is highly relevant to Prospenomics. Yet Prospenomics is not simply an updated version of Bookchin's anarchism.

Nor is it libertarianism. Nor is it minarchism.

Modern libertarianism was deeply shaped by thinkers such as Ludwig von Mises, Friedrich Hayek, and Murray Rothbard. Minarchism found one of its most influential formulations in Robert Nozick. All of them shared a legitimate concern about concentrations of power and generally advocated solutions based on free markets, decentralization, and individual autonomy.

In many respects, these traditions move close to Prospenomics. Technological innovation, decentralization of decision-making, institutional experimentation, and entrepreneurial freedom often contribute to the creation of abundance. Yet there remains a fundamental distinction.

The anarchist tends to view society through the tension between authority and freedom.

The libertarian tends to view society through the tension between the state and the individual.

The socialist tends to view society through the tension between capital and labor.

The conservative tends to focus on the balance between order and change.

All of these traditions continue to operate within political frameworks built to answer the same fundamental question: who should manage scarcity?

Prospenomics begins somewhere else.

It does not start by asking who should control resources. It asks how resources can become more abundant.

It does not start by asking how to divide the pie. It asks how to multiply the pie.

It does not start by asking which ideology should govern society. It asks which mechanisms increase the availability of energy, food, information, healthcare, infrastructure, knowledge, and free time.

For this reason, Prospenomics is not an attempt to stand "above" the left and the right. Nor is it an attempt to reconcile every political ideology. What it proposes is a shift in analytical focus. The debate between left and right continues to exist, but it no longer occupies the center of analysis. The primary variable is no longer who manages scarcity. The primary variable becomes how we expand abundance.

This shift becomes clearer when we examine the concept of marginal cost, popularized by Jeremy Rifkin in The Zero Marginal Cost Society.

Imagine a small bakery.

Before opening its doors in the morning, the owner has already paid a series of fixed costs: rent, equipment, maintenance, employee wages, cleaning, and the energy required to heat the oven. Suppose these fixed costs amount to $400 per day.

Now imagine that the bakery produces 100 loaves of bread.

To produce those 100 loaves, it must consume flour, water, yeast, and fuel. Suppose those inputs total $180. At that point, the bakery's total daily cost is $580.

But what happens if the bakery decides to produce one additional loaf?

The rent does not increase.

The oven is already hot.

The baker is already working.

The infrastructure already exists.

To produce loaf number 101, the bakery only needs a small additional amount of flour, water, yeast, and energy. Suppose that costs $1.50 in ingredients and $0.30 in energy, for a total of $1.80.

That is the marginal cost of loaf number 101.

Now suppose the bakery sells each loaf for $7.

In that case, producing the additional loaf makes economic sense. It costs $1.80 to produce but generates $7 in revenue. The difference, $5.20, contributes toward covering fixed costs and eventually becomes profit. That is precisely why businesses seek greater production volume: once the structure is in place, each additional unit tends to become economically advantageous.

Now compare that loaf of bread to a PDF containing the bread recipe.

The first PDF may have cost $5,000 in research, testing, writing, photography, and design. But copy number 101 requires no additional flour, no additional fuel, and no additional yeast. Someone simply presses a button and duplicates the file. Its marginal cost is effectively zero.

This is the dynamic Rifkin identified as one of the major transformative forces of the twenty-first century.

But there is a common mistake.

Many people confuse digital abundance with post-scarcity.

Free access to ten thousand bread recipes does not eliminate the need to bake bread.

Free access to video does not eliminate the need for energy.

Free access to medical knowledge does not eliminate the need for hospitals.

Digital abundance is real. But it does not automatically solve physical scarcity.

The real question of our century is different: to what extent can the physical world begin to behave more like the digital one?

Imagine a future bakery. Its oven is powered by solar energy harvested and stored at extremely low cost. Intelligent systems control production. Much of the repetitive labor is automated. Ingredients are produced locally through highly efficient agricultural systems. Recycling and circular production systems minimize waste.

Bread will never have a literally zero marginal cost. The physical world is not the digital world. There will always be maintenance, material constraints, and wear on equipment.

But suppose the marginal cost of loaf number 101 falls from $1.80 to $0.20.

Or even $0.05.

At that point, the economic problem begins to change in nature.

We are no longer discussing only how to distribute insufficient resources. We are discussing how to organize a society in which basic needs can be met with ever smaller amounts of labor, energy, and cost.

This is where Prospenomics begins.

Robbins taught us how to understand the economics of scarcity.

Proudhon, Bakunin, and Kropotkin imagined forms of organization beyond traditional structures of power.

Bookchin recognized that abundance could become technically possible.

Mises, Hayek, Rothbard, and Nozick demonstrated how decentralization and freedom can expand productive capacity.

Rifkin explained the economic mechanisms that push certain marginal costs toward zero.

Prospenomics does not replace any of these traditions. It learns from all of them.

But it asks a different question.

Socialism asks who should own the oven.

Libertarianism asks who should be free to operate the oven.

Anarchism asks why the oven should be subject to a central authority at all.

Prospenomics asks: How do we make the bread produced by the oven so abundant that scarcity ceases to be the center of the discussion?

Because once scarcity is no longer the dominant variable, the most important economic question is no longer who gets the last slice of bread.

The question becomes how to ensure there is enough bread for everyone.


Referencies

BOOKCHIN, Murray. Post-Scarcity Anarchism. Oakland: AK Press, 2004. (Obra originalmente publicada em 1971).

HAYEK, Friedrich A. The Road to Serfdom. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1944.

KROPOTKIN, Piotr. Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution. New York: McClure, Phillips & Co., 1902.

MISES, Ludwig von. Human Action: A Treatise on Economics. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1949.

NOZICK, Robert. Anarchy, State, and Utopia. New York: Basic Books, 1974.

PROUDHON, Pierre-Joseph. What Is Property? An Inquiry into the Principle of Right and of Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. (Obra originalmente publicada em 1840).

RIFKIN, Jeremy. The Zero Marginal Cost Society: The Internet of Things, the Collaborative Commons, and the Eclipse of Capitalism. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014.

ROBBINS, Lionel. An Essay on the Nature and Significance of Economic Science. London: Macmillan, 1932.

ROTHBARD, Murray N. For a New Liberty: The Libertarian Manifesto. New York: Macmillan, 1973.


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Complementary Reading

SMIL, Vaclav. Energy and Civilization: A History. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2017.

KURZWEIL, Ray. The Singularity Is Near. New York: Viking, 2005.

DIAMANDIS, Peter H.; KOTLER, Steven. Abundance: The Future Is Better Than You Think. New York: Free Press, 2012.

OSTROM, Elinor. Governing the Commons. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Essas obras ajudam a conectar energia, tecnologia, abundância, governança descentralizada e mudanças civilizacionais, temas que aparecem naturalmente dentro da estrutura conceitual da Prospenomics.

terça-feira, 6 de outubro de 2026

The End of Political Parties

 

We say that someone is left-wing or right-wing almost as if we were describing a permanent characteristic of that person, something similar to their profession, nationality, or temperament. However, as society advances, this division makes less and less sense.

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If you have been following our ideas, you know that, within a Prospenomics dynamic of post-scarcity, the political left-right axis ceases to be the main decision-making reference.

Let us start from the beginning...

Political positions have a very specific and relatively recent historical origin. They were born in Paris during the French Revolution, at a time when France was undergoing such a profound transformation that the political, social, and economic structures of the Ancien Régime itself were being dismantled.

The distinction did not emerge from an abstract political theory according to which humanity was naturally divided into two great groups. It emerged from the physical arrangement of deputies inside a room.

To understand what was happening, we need to go back to Paris in 1789. France was still a monarchy ruled by Louis XVI, and society was organized according to structures inherited from the Ancien Régime. The Crown's financial crisis was profound, aggravated by decades of warfare and by the cost of French support for American independence. The state struggled to raise revenue, taxation was unequal, the legal privileges of the different estates generated resentment, and the population suffered from rising food prices, especially the price of bread.

At the same time, the ideas of the Enlightenment had created a new political language. Montesquieu, Voltaire, Rousseau, and other thinkers had brought concepts such as liberty, sovereignty, representation, citizenship, and the rational organization of the state into circulation.

French society was therefore facing an explosive combination: fiscal crisis, institutional inequality, economic hardship, new political ideas, and a monarchy that was unable to reform itself easily. When Louis XVI summoned the Estates-General in 1789, he was not simply calling another administrative meeting. He was opening the door to a transformation that would quickly escape the control of the monarchy itself.

Paris was then a populous, noisy, politically charged city in which cafés, bookstores, printing houses, salons, clubs, and public spaces functioned as genuine means of political communication.

The circulation of ideas did not happen as it does today, through television, social media, or major digital outlets. Political information was transmitted through newspapers, pamphlets, speeches, letters, meetings, and, above all, conversation. The café was a kind of physical social network. Journalists, deputies, lawyers, merchants, intellectuals, aristocrats, and political agitators could be found discussing the day's events, reading newspapers, and exchanging opinions.

One of the most famous places in this universe was the Café Procope, on the Rive Gauche, near the intellectual heart of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Founded as early as the seventeenth century, the establishment had already been frequented by figures of the Enlightenment and, during the Revolution, became associated with the revolutionary milieu. The Café Procope hosted figures such as Danton, Marat, Camille Desmoulins, and Robespierre, and was connected to the social world of the Cordeliers and other revolutionaries.

Contrary to what many people believe, the left, the right, and the Marais cannot be reduced to a simple geographical formula applied to a map of Paris. The revolutionary left was not simply located on the Rive Gauche, nor was the right simply located on the Rive Droite. What existed was a much more complex network of meeting places.

The Jacobin Left

The Jacobins, for example, were established in the former Jacobin convent on Rue Saint-Honoré. The Cordeliers Club, associated with Danton, Marat, and Desmoulins, was based in the former Cordeliers convent on the Rive Gauche, while the Café Procope was close to this milieu. The Girondins, likewise, did not simply constitute a "Rive Gauche club" geographically opposed to the Jacobins; they were a parliamentary and political current whose influence developed primarily within the Assembly through networks of political sociability, the press, and salons. Geography helps tell the story, but it should not replace the history. The true map of the Revolution was a map of people, clubs, newspapers, cafés, assemblies, streets, and networks of influence.

The Girondin Right

On the other side of this revolutionary universe, there were also places where monarchists, constitutionalists, and more conservative sectors gathered. The Palais-Royal, on the Rive Droite, was one of the great centers of social interaction and the circulation of ideas in Paris. Cafés, restaurants, shops, bookstores, gambling houses, and other meeting places operated there, making it one of the busiest areas of the capital. The Café de Foy, located in the Palais-Royal, became particularly associated with the monarchist and constitutionalist milieu during certain moments of the Revolution.

Thus, it is possible to see how Paris possessed a genuine political geography. Certain places concentrated particular groups, conversations, and networks of influence. But this geography did not correspond exactly to the parliamentary division between left and right. It was the social infrastructure through which political positions were formed, debated, and eventually brought to the place where they would actually be transformed into votes.

That place was particularly important: the Salle du Manège, next to the Tuileries Garden. Originally built as a space for equestrian exercises, the enormous hall began housing the Assembly in November 1789. It successively accommodated the Assemblée Constituante, the Assemblée Législative, and, initially, the Convention Nationale. Between 1789 and 1793, that space became one of the great laboratories of modern politics.

The Marais Center

It was inside this hall that the famous spatial division emerged, giving rise to our political language. Deputies most closely identified with revolutionary and republican positions tended to occupy the seats to the left of the Assembly president; those more favorable to constitutional monarchy and to moderate or conservative positions sat to the right. Between them was the group known as the Marais or the Plain.

And here we encounter an extraordinarily modern characteristic of the French Revolution: these deputies were not merely debating ideas; they were creating an operating system for transforming a society in rupture into collective decisions. The Assembly had to vote on fundamental issues: the powers of the king, the structure of the state, the Church, property, citizens' rights, war, finances, and the very nature of sovereignty.

In this environment, large ideological groupings were extremely useful. If a deputy identified with a particular camp, this gave others a reasonably efficient indication of how he was likely to position himself on a range of other issues. The major political camps functioned as decision-making packages. Voters and deputies did not need to reconstruct an entire political theory for every vote.

This is precisely why we should not look down on those ideological packages from a historical distance. They were a rational solution to a real problem. Information was scarce, society was less specialized, communications were slow, and the number of technical issues that a citizen needed to follow was infinitely smaller than it is today. Democracy needed some mechanism for compressing information, and the major political camps provided that mechanism.

This is where the thinking of Daniel Innerarity helps broaden the problem. A Spanish political philosopher and one of the leading contemporary scholars of democratic governance, Innerarity argues that modern political parties emerged as large structures of social aggregation. They brought together relatively stable identities, relatively stable professions, and relatively stable interests. The party functioned as a large container capable of organizing enormous numbers of people within the same political narrative.

The problem is that society has changed. A contemporary citizen may support fiscal responsibility and public investment in science. They may support private property and at the same time consider it unacceptable for anyone to go hungry. They may be conservative on certain cultural issues and liberal on others. They may support free markets in some sectors and strong public intervention in others. The more complex society becomes, the more likely it is that individuals will agree with some positions within one camp while rejecting others from that same camp.

The question "Are you left-wing or right-wing?" therefore begins to lose its explanatory power.

This is precisely where Innerarity's reflection meets the Prospenomics proposal. If political parties emerged as large containers for organizing relatively stable identities, increasing social complexity reduces their ability to adequately represent increasingly diverse individuals. This does not mean that political parties will disappear tomorrow. It means that they were designed for a specific kind of society and may no longer be able to represent the emerging world with the same degree of precision.

Prospenomics takes this reasoning one step further. It proposes that a post-scarcity society does not need to continue organizing all of its decisions around ideological identities inherited from the eighteenth century. The goal is not to create a new left. It is not to create a new right. It is not to permanently occupy the Marais. The goal is to replace the logic of belonging with the logic of reality.

Much of modern politics still operates as if every issue must first be classified as "left" or "right." But reality does not work that way. When engineers design a Boeing 747, they do not ask whether the position of its engines is a left-wing or right-wing solution. They do not debate whether the thickness of the wings is progressive or conservative. They do not calculate aerodynamic lift based on ideological preferences.

The location where the engines are installed does not depend on which side of the wing they occupy. It depends on the need to properly respond to the laws of physics.

Weight distribution, lift, fuel consumption, and flight stability do not negotiate with ideologies. The aircraft flies because it respects reality.

The Prospenomics hypothesis is that an increasing share of public decisions will move in the same direction. Issues involving energy, food, science, infrastructure, automation, artificial intelligence, and economic organization have objective constraints that do not disappear because a political group prefers a different narrative. Just as physics determines where an engine should be placed, economic, technological, and material reality imposes limits and possibilities on collective decisions.

The central criterion therefore ceases to be the ideological origin of a proposal and becomes its ability to produce results compatible with available resources, accumulated knowledge, and human dignity.

Perhaps, therefore, the question of the future will not be whether the left is right or the right is right. Both were historically relevant responses to the problems of their time. The truly important question is another: are we still using the best possible system for understanding today's reality?

The deputies sitting on the left, the right, and in the Marais of the Salle du Manège created one of the most successful political technologies in history. For more than two centuries, it helped organize conflicts, elections, governments, and ideologies. But no intellectual technology is eternal.

Perhaps twenty-first-century politics requires less loyalty to the positions occupied in that Parisian room and greater attention to the laws that govern reality. After all, when it comes time to build a Boeing 747, ideology does not decide where the engines go.

Physics does.

And a mature society may need to begin treating an increasing number of its decisions in exactly the same way.

Bibliographical References

Doyle, William. The Oxford History of the French Revolution. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.

Furet, François. Pensando a Revolução Francesa. Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1989.

Hobsbawm, Eric. The Age of Revolution: 1789–1848. New York: Vintage Books, 1996.

Hunt, Lynn. Politics, Culture, and Class in the French Revolution. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004.

Lefebvre, Georges. A Revolução Francesa. São Paulo: IBRASA, 1989.

McPhee, Peter. Liberty or Death: The French Revolution. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2016.

Palmer, R. R. The Twelve Who Ruled: The Year of the Terror in the French Revolution. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005.

Schama, Simon. Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution. New York: Vintage Books, 1990.


Daniel Innerarity and Complex Democracy

Innerarity, Daniel. La transformación de la política. Barcelona: Península, 2002.

Innerarity, Daniel. La democracia del conocimiento: por una sociedad inteligente. Barcelona: Paidós, 2011.

Innerarity, Daniel. Política para perplejos. Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2018.

Innerarity, Daniel. Una teoría de la democracia compleja. Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2020.

Innerarity, Daniel. "¿El final de los partidos?". Various editions and essays published in periodicals and collections addressing democracy, representation, and the transformation of party systems.


Institutions, Complexity, and Information

Hayek, Friedrich A. The Use of Knowledge in Society. American Economic Review, vol. 35, no. 4, 1945.

Simon, Herbert A. The Sciences of the Artificial. 3rd ed. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996.

North, Douglass C. Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Scott, James C. Seeing Like a State. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998.


Historical Reference Used in the Luca Pacioli Analogy

Pacioli, Luca. Summa de Arithmetica, Geometria, Proportioni et Proportionalità. Venice, 1494.


Conceptual Reference for Prospenomics

Nunes, Marcelo. Prospenomics: Economia da Pós-Escassez, Abundância Tecnológica e Otimização Social. Manuscript in development.


Essential Bibliography (Short Version for Publication)

If the article is published in a journal, website, or book and you want only the references that are truly central, I would use:

  1. DOYLE, William. The Oxford History of the French Revolution.
  2. MCPHEE, Peter. Liberty or Death: The French Revolution.
  3. INNERARITY, Daniel. La democracia del conocimiento.
  4. INNERARITY, Daniel. Una teoría de la democracia compleja.
  5. NORTH, Douglass. Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance.
  6. PACIOLI, Luca. Summa de Arithmetica, Geometria, Proportioni et Proportionalità.