The Idea That Haunted Me
It all started in college. It was time to write my final course monograph, and like every student, I wanted to propose something original, relevant—and, above all, transformative. The first idea that occurred to me was simple yet audacious: if science fiction inspired Santos=Dumont to invent the airplane, why don't we use it to reinvent the administration of economies, especially public administration?
The proposal seemed to make sense to me. After all, Santos=Dumont read Jules Verne, dreamed of flying machines, and then built them. He didn't just get inspired—he made it a reality. So why not apply the same reasoning to public management? Why not look at the societies imagined in works like Star Trek, Foundation, or Nosso Lar* and extract more efficient, ethical, and human models from them?
*Important Note: Although Nosso Lar (Astral City: A Spiritual Journey 2010) is often cited alongside works of science fiction for its description of an organized and spiritualized society, it is essential to recognize that it is not a work of science fiction, but a text from the Spiritist doctrine, psychographed by Chico Xavier. It describes a spiritual plane that is part of the universe of Spiritist beliefs, and its approach reflects spiritual, not speculative or scientific, values and principles.
I presented the idea to the examination board. And what I received was... laughter. Everyone found the proposal ridiculous, except for one: Professor Mercier**. He not only listened attentively but encouraged me to keep thinking about it, even if it wasn't the accepted topic for the paper. It was a gesture I never forgot.
**Personal Note: UNIFIEO is my Alma Mater, and Dean Professor Antônio Pacheco Mercier was—and continues to be—my intellectual and human mentor. It was he who saw value in the Prospenomics proposal when many dismissed it. Osasco, the city that offered me the chance to study and prosper, and which houses UNIFIEO, is also the land of the first airplane flight in Latin America, performed by Dimitri Sensaud de Lavaud in 1910. Despite this historical feat, Osasco is frequently subjected to our 'mongrel complex' (síndrome de vira-latas), which makes us ignore or minimize our own achievements.
It is precisely against this mentality that Prospenomics stands—to show that transformative ideas can emerge from anywhere, even from where they are least expected.
In the end, I had to shelve the idea. The approved monograph was about the role of CACEX (Foreign Trade Department of Banco do Brasil) in Brazilian exports, based on my internship in the exchange department of Banco Noroeste. A technical, bureaucratic, soulless work. I did what was necessary to finish the course, but the flame of Prospenomics—as I later named my proposal—never went out inside me.
With the advent of blogs and digital platforms, I finally found a space to publish my ideas. I started writing about Prospenomics, about post-scarcity societies, about how science fiction can be used as a public policy laboratory. And little by little, I realized I was not alone. Others were also looking for alternatives, dreaming of new models, wanting more than just to survive within flawed systems.
This book is the result of that journey. An attempt to gather reflections, provocations, and concrete proposals for a new way of thinking about public administration—inspired not only by reason, but also by imagination.
Because, ultimately, every great transformation begins with an idea that seems ridiculous—until someone realizes it.
Astronomer, Astronaut, and Astrologer
Long before building cities, domesticating animals, or writing stories, the first hominids must have marveled at the starry sky. Imagine the impact of looking up, amidst the darkness of the African savanna, and seeing that mantle dotted with mysterious lights. The sky was a silent, constant spectacle, yet full of movement. It was humanity's first great blackboard—and the stars, its first teachers.
The observation of the stars was not merely contemplative. It offered clues about the world around them. Our ancestors noticed that certain celestial patterns preceded rains, storms, or intensely sunny days. Over time, they understood that the movement of the stars and the Sun indicated the arrival of summer or winter, the time to plant or harvest, to migrate or take shelter. The sky became a natural calendar, an orientation system, a cosmic compass. And thus, the study of the stars became a tool for evolution.
Over the centuries, this knowledge was refined. The first astronomers emerged, dedicating their lives to understanding celestial bodies with mathematical precision. They created maps of the sky, calculated orbits, and predicted eclipses. Astronomy became a fundamental science for navigation, agriculture, and the very understanding of our position in the universe.
But the sky was not always viewed with scientific eyes. During the Middle Ages, the stars came to be interpreted as magical symbols. The astrologer emerged, the one who saw poetry in the stars. He did not merely seek to understand the movement of the planets, but to translate their hidden meanings, relating them to human life, individual destinies, emotions, and spiritual cycles. Although astrology has been marginalized by modern science, one cannot deny that it preserved the fascination with the sky in times of intellectual darkness. Furthermore, it was precisely this metaphysical pursuit that would later give rise to chemistry, physics, and psychology.
Then came the 20th century. And with it, a new type of celestial character: the astronaut. If the astronomer observed the stars and the astrologer interpreted them, the astronaut went to them. In 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first human to orbit the Earth. In 1969, Neil Armstrong stepped on the Moon. Humanity, for the first time, ceased merely looking at the sky—and began walking on it. The astronaut represents the courage to transform dream into action, to cross frontiers previously considered insurmountable.
These three characters—the astronomer, the astrologer, and the astronaut—are archetypes that inhabit our collective imagination. Each one represents an essential dimension of the human experience:
1-The astronomer, with his rational and scientific quest.
2-The astrologer, with his symbolic and poetic sensitivity.
3-The astronaut, with his audacious, transformative realization.
Santos=Dumont, for example, can be seen as an astronomer and an astronaut of aviation. He studied the principles of flight but also built the devices that made it possible. Inspired by Jules Verne, Dumont showed that science fiction can be the first step towards concrete innovation.
And this is precisely where the concept of Prospenomics comes in. If we want to build a society based on collective prosperity, abundance, and shared realization, perhaps we should look to these three characters as guides. Can the astronomer, the astrologer, and the astronaut help us achieve a prospenomic society?
The Three Characters That Inspire Science
If in the first chapter we saw how the archetypes of the astronomer, the astrologer, and the astronaut represent essential dimensions of the human experience—knowledge, poetry, and action—in this second chapter, we explore how these archetypes manifest in scientific practice and the advances of civilization.
Throughout history, great discoveries have not come solely from pure reason or blind experimentation. They arose when these three characters met within the same individual, revealing that human progress is often the result of an alchemy between dream, observation, and courage.
Kekulé and the Dream of the Ouroboros
The chemist Friedrich August Kekulé, for example, discovered the structure of the benzene molecule not through cold calculations, but through a symbolic dream. He saw a snake biting its own tail—the symbol of the Ouroboros, an ancient archetype of eternity and the infinite cycle. This image led him to conceive the cyclic structure of benzene, something that revolutionized organic chemistry.
Kekulé, at that moment, was both astrologer and astronomer: he interpreted a metaphysical symbol and translated it into a scientific structure. He saw poetry in the stars and, at the same time, applied logic and observation to transform that insight into concrete knowledge.
Mendeleev and the Taste of Matter
Another fascinating example is Dmitri Mendeleev, the creator of the periodic table. To classify chemical elements, he did not limit himself to external observations—he put substances in his mouth, tasted them, physically explored their properties. This gesture, unthinkable in modern laboratories today, reveals an astronaut's mindset: someone who throws themselves into direct experience, who touches, feels, and risks.
But Mendeleev was also an astronomer: by organizing the elements into patterns and predicting the existence of as-yet-undiscovered substances, he demonstrated a systemic, almost cosmic, view of matter. He did not just explore—he understood.
The Fusion of the Three in Science Fiction
These examples show that major advances do not come from a single approach, but from the interaction between the three characters. And it is precisely in science fiction that this fusion happens most clearly.
In works like Star Trek, Isaac Asimov’s Foundation, or Stanisław Lem’s Solaris, we see scientists who dream, explore, and interpret. Science fiction allows the astrologer to imagine possible worlds, the astronaut to explore them, and the astronomer to understand them. It is the stage where poetry, science, and action meet.
Therefore, when science fiction is applied to reality, these three characters interact. They cease to be isolated archetypes and become complementary forces, capable of transforming societies, reinventing public policies, and inspiring new economic models—like the one we propose with Prospenomics.
The question that arises now is: How can we use this symbolic triad to build a truly prospenomic society?
The Public Administration We Haven't Invented Yet
If the previous chapters showed how the archetypes of the astronomer, the astrologer, and the astronaut inspired scientific and social advances, now it is time to look at the heart of our collective coexistence: public administration. And here, unfortunately, creativity seems to have lagged behind.
We live in a world where models of social management change very little over the centuries. Democracy, for example, is considered the best political system we have—and indeed, since Solon and Cleisthenes, it represents an advance over authoritarianism. But is it enough? Even being millennia-old, democracy still carries deep flaws, such as mass manipulation, clientelism, and low actual representation.
The same applies to accounting and banking systems. The double-entry bookkeeping method, created by Luca Pacioli in the 15th century, is still the basis of modern accounting. The banking system, which emerged in the 16th century, continues to operate with logics of scarcity, interest, and capital concentration. Why have we never used truly advanced ideas to reinvent these vital systems?
Today, liberalism generates wealth but not prosperity. It favors individual accumulation but ignores that the existence of poor nuclei makes the wealth of others inefficient and fragile. Conversely, communism and socialism, in their historical versions, fail by trying to distribute a wealth that has not even been generated—creating scarcity instead of abundance.
It is in this scenario that the concept of Prospenomics emerges: a proposal for a post-scarcity society, where prosperity is shared and progress is measured by collective achievements. Instead of competing for limited resources, everyone benefits harmoniously, with systems that encourage collaboration, innovation, and mutual well-being.
But for this, we need to think outside the box. We need to look at the models of society that have already been imagined—even if only in fiction.
Star Trek and Nosso Lar: Alternative Models
Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, imagined a society where there is no money, no hunger, and knowledge is the most valuable asset. Leaders are chosen by merit, ethics, and wisdom. The United Federation of Planets is an example of public administration based on universal values, science, and diplomacy.
On the other extreme, we have the spiritual society of Nosso Lar (Our Home), described by Chico Xavier. There, the most important leaders are precisely those who have the most time for the humble. Administration is done based on empathy, service, and moral evolution—not on power or self-promotion.
These models, though fictional or spiritual, offer us valuable clues. They show that it is possible to imagine systems where public administration is not marked by the three great evils that afflict us today:
1- Incompetence (Inepcia) – Many politicians enter public life not out of competence, but out of a lack of options in the job market.
2- Self-serving (Auto-serviência) – Laws are voted with a focus on self-benefit, not the common good.
3- Corruption – An endemic evil that undermines confidence, resources, and the hope of the population.
If we don't dare to imagine something new, we will never escape this vicious cycle. We need a public administration that is inspired by astronomers (who understand), by astrologers (who inspire), and by astronauts (who realize). We need leaders who think like scientists, feel like poets, and act like explorers.
Prospenomics is not just a theory—it is an invitation. A call for us to stop merely surviving and start designing the world we want to live in.
Examples of Fiction for a Prospenomic Society
The concept of using fiction as a "laboratory of ideas" that leads us toward a Prospenomic society is extremely potent. Prospenomics, in fact, feeds on fiction's unique ability to simulate complex scenarios, allowing us to analyze the social, economic, and ethical consequences of new models of public administration and resource management.
By placing ourselves in the position of the Astronomer (observing the possibilities), the Astrologer (analyzing the impacts), and the Astronaut (the agent who implements the change), the narratives that follow offer conceptual blueprints for moving beyond the current paradigms of scarcity and competition. Below, we explore the first example of this triad, highlighting how a fictional post-scarcity society provides us with concrete clues:
1. Star Trek: The Blueprint for Prospenomics
The Star Trek series is more than just science fiction; it is the quintessential operational model for Prospenomics. Indeed, it was this saga that led me to create the concept of Prospenomics in the late 1980s, solidifying the vision of a Post-Scarcity society where the astronomical increase in resources—driven by space exploration and technologies like matter replicators and abundant clean energy—annihilated material scarcity.
Star Trek’s great lesson for public and economic administration lies in the shift of human focus: the fundamental motivation migrates from survival and wealth accumulation toward self-development, intellectual curiosity, and the exploration of the unknown.
The Replacement of Money as a Driving Force:
The most radical and inspiring aspect of Star Trek is the replacement of the monetary system. This inspired me to focus on policies that guarantee Basic Material Security (BMS) fully and unconditionally. By ensuring that quality housing, food, healthcare, and education are inalienable and automatically supplied rights, society liberates human energy from the slavery of economic necessity. Work, then, transforms into a vocation—creative, scientific, and social work that transcends the mere equation of salary for survival.
Wealth through Investment in Knowledge:
Starfleet, the Federation's driving force, is essentially a vast research and exploration agency funded entirely by the public. This establishes a fundamental principle of Prospenomics: the greatest investment of a prosperous society must be in Science, Art, and Education, viewed not merely as tools to boost the GDP, but as civilizational ends in themselves. In this view, a citizen's "wealth" is not measured by their bank balance, but rather by their unlimited access to knowledge and opportunities for personal development.
The Ethic of Non-Interference (The Prime Directive):
The famous rule prohibiting interference in the development of less advanced cultures can be translated into public administration as a principle of Non-Intrusion and Respect for Local Autonomy. A Prospenomic government must, therefore, provide the platform for prosperity (BMS, education, health) and create the conditions of abundance, but must actively resist the manipulation or excessive control of individual and communal choices. The government guarantees the foundation, but self-determination flourishes upon it.
2 - The Mandibles: A Family, 2029-2047
It is fascinating how "The Mandibles" offers us a magnifying lens for critical issues in our economy and society, presenting dystopian solutions that, ironically, contain tempting ideas.
In a more fluid text, we can say that Lionel Shriver’s book serves as a warning about three interconnected issues: the fragility of currency, the threat of inflation, and the danger of centralized control.
"The Mandibles’" Warning
The novel warns us that confidence in currency and institutions is the foundation of everything. When the dollar collapses and is replaced by the Bancor (a supranational currency, or a new system), trust is broken, and the social structure crumbles. The warning is clear: financial stability is less guaranteed than it seems.
The Tempting Ideas of FleX and Bancor
However, the book's technological and monetary solutions, although imposed by the crisis, raise questions that could be beneficial in our current society:
The End of Money Laundering and Uncontrolled Theft:
The rise of a system of digital and alternative currencies (like the Bancor), especially if it were based on a blockchain architecture or was fully traceable, could, in theory, eliminate money laundering and large-scale theft. If money no longer exists as physical notes or as merely untraceable bank assets, every transaction could be recorded. This would make corruption and the concealment of illegal wealth enormously difficult—a scourge that plagues global politics.
Decentralization and the Loss of Government Control:
In the novel, the creation of the Bancor and the use of the FleX end up centralizing control in the hands of an authoritarian government (especially in the second half of the book).
The Tempting Concept: But the central idea the book makes us ponder is the opposite: what would happen if money were no longer controlled by any government? The Bancor, as a supranational or digital currency, echoes the current debate about cryptocurrencies and dedollarization. If money were fully decentralized and based on algorithms (and not on the promises of a central bank with enormous debts), it would be immune to uncontrolled printing, political manipulation, and, theoretically, to the sovereign debt crises we see today.
Conclusion: A Dangerous Trade-Off
The book, therefore, presents us with an ironic dilemma: monetary technology could offer the solution to corruption and debt instability—bringing a potential moral and fiscal "relief"—but if poorly implemented, it can easily turn into a tool for total surveillance and even greater state control, replacing the tyranny of the dollar with the tyranny of a total tracking system. Shriver's warning is not just about money, but about the cost of security in exchange for freedom.
Some Other Fictions
Just as Star Trek (1) presents a post-scarcity society where technology eliminates poverty and establishes an ethic of collective responsibility, and Nosso Lar (16) portrays a spiritual administration where the most capable serve the simplest with dignity, many other fictional universes offer models that can inspire real-world solutions.
In Foundation, by Isaac Asimov (3), a government emerges based on scientific prediction of collective behavior, an idea that today could be translated into public planning guided by artificial intelligence. In The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury (4), we see small autonomous towns that reject urban gigantism, proposing a model of social decentralization.
Wakanda, from Black Panther (5), represents an ethical technocracy where science and power are used to protect the collective rather than exploit it. In Avatar (6), the Na’vi live a biocentric economy where nature is an integral part of production rather than a resource to be consumed.
Even the Smurfs (7), with their vocation-based organization — the cook cooks, the builder builds — suggest an educational and professional system based on aptitude rather than imposition. The hobbit village in The Lord of the Rings (8) presents a society that is happy precisely because it is unpretentious, showing that simplicity can be a form of prosperity.
We finally arrive at the prosperous universe of "The Culture" (9), a work by Scottish author Iain M. Banks. It offers one of the most sophisticated models of a post-scarcity society in science fiction, as well as profound and radical lessons for Prospenomics.
While Star Trek shows the steps to achieving Post-Scarcity, "The Culture" explores the consequences of this freedom in its most extreme form.
Iain M. Banks created an interstellar, quasi-utopian civilization where technology (specifically, superintelligent AIs, the "Minds") has completely freed humanity from all labor and material need, redefining the purpose of life.
Governance by Higher Intelligence (The "Minds")
In The Culture, civilization is run by AIs with processing and foresight capabilities far surpassing those of humans. They manage resources (ships, habitats, energy) so efficiently that scarcity becomes impossible. Automation and AI They should be seen not only as tools for profit, but as the next layer of public administration, responsible for ensuring the equitable distribution of resources, complex logistics, and energy allocation, freeing humans from inefficient bureaucracy and human error.
The End of Corruption and Self-Servitude
This is the most crucial point for Prospenomics. The technology mentioned in the work has liberated the desire to possess things. When any item can be created instantly by replicators, accumulation becomes meaningless.
Achieving total (or abundant) Post-Scarcity removes the root of corruption and self-servitude. One does not steal what one can easily have. This suggests that the most effective solution to political and economic corruption is guaranteed material abundance, not just punishment.
Without the pressure to survive or accumulate, the energy of the Culture's citizens is channeled into the "work" of achieving plenitude and complexity. Human endeavor is dedicated to art, science, physical and mental improvement, and the construction of high ethics and morality.
Public administration should have as its primary objective the "Unleashing of Human Potential." Instead of measuring success by productivity, society should measure prosperity by the amount of time and resources citizens dedicate to self-improvement and social contribution activities that do not generate profit, but rather develop human and ethical capital. This alone would be a powerful solution for today.
In short, "The Culture" proposes that by solving the material problem with technology, we inherently solve society's ethical and moral problem, replacing greed with the pursuit of meaning and excellence, making this 12-volume work one of the best tools for developing a truly prospenomic society.
Laputa, from Castle in the Sky (10), unites tradition and technology by showing an aerial civilization based on ancient wisdom and subtle engineering.
In The Matrix (11), there is a valuable warning: when technology is used for control instead of emancipation, it becomes a prison — reminding us that every technical advance must be accompanied by ethics. Dune, by Frank Herbert (12), highlights the importance of natural resources as elements of governance, directly comparable to water management on Earth. The Expanse (13) presents a multipolar political system in space where alliances are formed out of ecological necessity, indicating that cooperation can be more strategic than domination.
Even Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand (14), although ideologically controversial, offers an important counterpoint by showing the risk of systems that suffocate individual innovation — reminding us that freedom and responsibility must walk together. And finally, The Hunger Games (15) serves as an example of everything a government should not be: centralized, spectacularized, and unequal — acting as a permanent warning against authoritarianism disguised as entertainment.
These more tha fifteen universes show that fiction is not an escape from reality — it is a laboratory for designing what does not yet exist.
If Santos=Dumont read Jules Verne and built the airplane, then why can’t Prospenomics read Star Trek, Foundation, Wakanda, and build the future of public administration?
