Behind the Scenes

Recommended: Netflix Discoveries and Observations from 2020.

Netflix is overwhelming. We all know this.

The sheer amount of things you can watch on there is staggering. And we also know from research that too much choice is not good for us — it does not make us happy:

Research now shows that there can be too much choice; when there is, consumers are less likely to buy anything at all, and if they do buy, they are less satisfied with their selection.

The global streaming platform has definitely become the epitome of this problem. So much so that they actually offer a “play something randomly” button on their entry page now, to relieve users of the burden of choosing.

I was beginning to suspect that this might actually have a negative impact on my ability to enjoy films: There is so much out there — it seemed to make me less and less willing to actually follow through with any one film or series. Whenever something happened in a film or on a show that I didn’t like or enjoy in the moment — which is normal; all films are about conflict, which is sometimes unpleasant! — I would simply jump ship and watch something else. No commitment, no follow-through, just hopping about. And at the end of the evening I would lazily return to “Big Bang Theory” (which I play on loop when I cook or eat by myself — it’s my default switching-my-brain-off show, akin to a “zen music playlist” on Spotify), to zone out, before going to bed. And in this way, I was apparently “weaning myself off” of the actual film-watching experience — because of an over-abundance of choice.

Then I was watching Clint Eastwood’s “The Mule” the other day, and something dawned on me: Very often, the problem is not Netflix — instead, it is too many films and shows filled with characters I simply do not care about. Characters that leave me cold and uninterested — or worse: actively unwilling to follow them into their conflicts. Eastwood’s grumpy old man in that film was the perfect example. The film spends about 25 minutes introducing me to an unpleasant, grumpy, selfish old man. Nothing about his character is likeable — or interesting. Nothing at all.

I understand, of course, that a film’s purpose is to take one or several characters on a journey, and allow them to transform and learn something about themselves. And yet — if I find a character so unpleasant to begin with that I simply do not care what happens to her or him, then, well, I’ll simply switch off. Why spend two hours of my life (or a lot more, if it’s a show) “in the company” of someone whom I simply do not like? Life’s too precious. And so, after about half an hour, I stopped watching “The Mule” — I just wasn’t interested in what was going to happen to that old fart, as he was beginning his drug-running work for the cartel. (The only worse type are characters that seem completely implausible, or act in ways nobody understands. They ruin a show or a film within seconds.)

Mind you — I don’t need Disney-esque cuddly characters that make you vomit from all the sugar they’re coated with. I am happy to encounter real characters, with flaws and dark sides and anger and pain and all the rest of it. But they also need something human, emotional, relatable. Years ago, I saw no need to continue watching “The Sopranos” — for the same reason. I had finished season 1, and somewhere in season 2 I realised that no one — absolutely nobody — on that show had anything to offer that I liked. So I stopped watching. David Simon’s magnificent show “The Wire” was the exact opposite — I liked almost every character on that show, be they drug lords, beat cops, or corrupt politicians. (Nobody beats Omar Little, of course. Nobody. But that’s another story.) Most of them were also selfish, cruel, spineless, or a combination of these and many other flaws. But something about each and every one of them was also relatable, real, and endearing. It became my favourite TV show of all time.

This blog and website is entirely dedicated to our documentary film project about the political fight for Wellbeing Economies. But after I had had these observations, I wanted to publish a little list of fictional films and TV shows, at the end of this year, that I did thoroughly enjoy. If only to prove to myself that I can still follow through! And besides, since this website is all about making a film, why not add a little shout-out to work that I truly enjoyed — to mark the end of this crazy Pandemic-riddled 2020?

One show on Netflix that hit all the right buttons, in terms of interesting and relatable yet profoundly flawed characters, was “The Sinner“. It centers on Bill Pullman’s awkward detective Ambrose who is solving one murder mystery per season. He is clearly a weirdo, with awkward ways of dealing with people. And so are his suspects. The show’s premise is that we know who the killer is, we just have no idea why they killed their victims. And so you meet these very charismatic yet clearly deranged or disturbed people, and you join Ambrose on his quest to find out why they did what they did. Really interesting. And quite dark, at times.

A couple of weeks ago, Netflix made “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” available for streaming. I didn’t watch it on Netflix, I watched it a while back on DVD (I think). But that film hits hard — in such surprising ways. At first you think that it’s a small straightforward story from a small straightforward town: A mother is giving the police chief a hard time because she thinks he didn’t do enough to find her daughter’s killer. But the way the story builds and builds and builds, and adds yet another layer of drama and then one more on top of that — it’s awesome. And again, it’s peopled with incredibly interesting characters. Frances McDormand’s “mother” is the best example: Very often she is incredibly unpleasant to people. But you feel with her, you want her to succeed. Of course — after what she’s been through!

On the opposite end of the spectrum is “Lovesick“. There are no lives at stake, no killers to be hunted, no earth to be saved — it’s only three twens who are trying to find love in modern day London. Which sounds a bit lame, and which is also a bit predictable — but wait until you meet them: Gloriously fun people! Sometimes you want to hug them, sometimes you want to hit them, but they never leave you not caring.

For the past couple of years (or so) I’ve developed a new habit: I’m watching “The Equalizer” at least once a year. What I love about it is simply observing Denzel Washington as the title character do his thing. He is a damaged soul — as a retired military-secret-spy-elite-something, he has cut his ties with the rest of the world and leads a very quiet life of simplicity. Then, one day a person that he is sympathetic to gets in trouble. And he cannot help himself, he has to get involved. What happens then is one of the most fun revenge phantasies that you can see on the screen — and not the type where gallons of blood are splattered everywhere. Quite the contrary: The violence is sparse, contained, meticulously handed out. In a sense, the film is almost understated with the violence. And lovely that way.

If you want to create a very interesting contradictory Denzel evening with two films in a row, you can add “Training Day” to the mix. The film is from 2001, but it holds up well, and has Washington in one of his meanest roles ever — while Ethan Hawke is standing his ground as a rookie cop that has to deal with all the nasty that Denzel is handing out.

For a change of pace, with animation, sci-fi and robots, I’d recommend “Love, Death & Robots“. It’s a collection of 18 animation short films in all kinds of styles and designs. And they all deal with, well, love, death and robots. I really enjoyed this, because visually they are often stunning, and many of the characters are really interesting. Plus, the snack size of the films (they’re all between 6 and 17 minutes long) makes them very easy to enjoy outside the couch potato setting. Even as a download on the metro, etc.

I don’t usually binge-watch. After an episode or two of a show, I tend to need a bit of a palette cleanser, maybe even delay the next episodes by a day or two. But with “Godless“, this was different. I think I watched the 7-part miniseries in 2019, and loved every bit of it — I burned right through it. For one, it’s fun to see the usually good-natured Jeff Daniels with a big old beard as a nasty villain. But more importantly, the women on the show really make it what it is. You need to like Westerns, of course, to enjoy it. But if you want a Western that shows you fierce bad-ass women standing their ground in a violent world of (fairly) ignorant bastard men, this is incredible fun.

Everyone knows that Joaquin Phoenix kicks ass. If you want to see him do that in a film made by super-inspired film maker Lynne Ramsay, with a visual style all her own, I’d very much recommend “You Were Never Really Here“. That film is a bit like “The Equalizer’s” weirdly deranged younger brother. Here, Phoenix is also a very damaged veteran of some government killing business, and now he takes on a child-sex-abuse-pornography ring that’s protected from very high up in the political system. But the film looks and feels nothing like what I just wrote — watching it is a little like experiencing it from within the mind of the protagonist. And also, Ramsay has found a very interesting way of (not) showing the violence.

Aaron Sorkin writing court room dramas is like Tiger Woods playing golf. A man in his element. I very much enjoyed “The Trial of the Chicago 7“, which came out as a Netflix film this year. Also, it taught me a few things about what happened in the USA back then, when the country very much disagreed on what is right and what is wrong — just like the country is doing today.

Speaking of Sorkin, he was also involved in writing the script for “Moneyball“. The film doesn’t look too exciting on the face of it: a story about statistics in Baseball? How fun is that going to be? Particularly for a European who, by default, cannot understand a damn thing about Baseball anyway? It turns out: Pretty fun! For one, thanks to two very interesting characters — Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill (!) are playing their incredibly understated, quietly intense characters in this David-vs-Goliath story that has you rooting for them even if you don’t understand a thing about Baseball. I really liked it, I’ve already seen it twice.

I do understand football a wee bit better (and I mean the European style — where feet actually matter in the kicking of the ball across the field!), but that is not why my absolutely favourite show on Netflix this year must have been “The English Game“. It’s just a gem of a six-episode miniseries that tells another David-vs.Goliath story — about how football became a professional sport, and what that meant for poor workers from Scotland and snobby nobles from London, and what they could or did not learn from each other. Absolutely delightful.

I am currently right in the middle of “Manhunt: Unabomber” — a show that is a real positive surprise. First of all, I know preciously little about Ted Kaczynski and what he did, and the show does present some of the historical facts. But secondly, it does not shy away from allowing the viewer to find Kaczinsky’s thinking reasonable, compelling even. His analysis of what’s wrong with the world was prescient then, and is quite pertinent today. His method of building bombs and killing people was just extremely misguided and wrong, of course. But that does not mean he didn’t point out real problems that threaten our world today. I am really enjoying the show.

Katherine Trebeck, one of the protagonists of our film, and an Aussie expat in Scotland, turned me on to the next show: I had started watching “Secret City” a while back, it looked like an Australian House of Cards type of thing. But I gave up quickly after the very first episode — it was so full of information, jargon, and what seemed like Australian political insider information and facts that I simply couldn’t keep up. It just seemed too much work. But Katherine warmly recommended the show, so I gave it another go. It turned out that the pilot episode was the problem: They crammed it so full of information that it became almost unwatchable. But then it let off a bit, became better paced, and turned into quite a fun take on the whole Snowden-NSA-data collection controversy from an Australian point of view (which we don’t usually get here in Europe). And it also had a nice element of Western-Chinese relations and mutual spying thrown in.

Staying down under, I also liked “Deep Water“, an Aussie cop show about a couple of detectives investigating horrible crimes against gay men in present and past Australia.

And now I will end my Netflix list with a complete surprise and absolute killer show, once again from Australia: “Nanette“, a one hour stand-up comedy special by Hannah Gadsby. It moved me, it made me laugh, it made me cry, I have never seen anything like it. And I’m not going to spoil why, or what is so special about it — just watch it, and your life will be better for it!

And that’s it from here, for this year. May 2021 bring us things we don’t even dare dream about. And I do mean that politically. Happy New Year!

Behind the Scenes

Editing a Documentary Feature Film. For the First Time.

It’s been a long while that we haven’t posted anything here. And there is a reason for that. Soon after our last blog post, about Katherine’s thoughts on the Corona pandemic, and what it means for wellbeing economics, we launched into editing mode: We closed the doors behind us (sort of … it wasn’t really hard anyway, because Corona), sat down and finally approached our terrabytes of footage, in order to start assembling this vast collection of material into a story that people will hopefully relate to, feel, understand, follow, be moved and inspired by.

A tall order. But gladly, we have help. Last year, we started collaborating with a team of experienced film makers from Hamburg, and they are now coaching us in the editing process.

Which sounds great. Which actually is great. But it doesn’t necessarily feel great — at least at the start: In April, I put together a first draft of what I thought the first fifteen minutes of our film could look like. It was a fairly rough sketch, but I thought it would be a good starting point for the development. Turned out that it wasn’t. The team in Hamburg explained to me with very kind words — and in a very long two-hour phone conference — that what I had made could probably live on YouTube, with its activist stance and rough & tumble explanatory ‘teacher’ tone. But it certainly was not going to work in the cinema, or really anywhere else where people expect a truly engaging cinematic experience that provokes thought and engages on an emotional level.

I was in a bad mood for about a week after the phone call.

I could not make sense of many of the things the guys had talked about: layered storytelling … associative space for the viewer … designing complexity. They seemed like abstract ideas, incredibly theoretical — I had not been to film school, no one had taught me how to think in these terms, and I could not connect them to our material, to the story of our two protagonists.

But then I started watching more documentaries and tried to keep these concepts and ideas in mind, mapping them onto what I was seeing. At the same time, we did another interview with our protagonist Lorenzo Fioramonti, about his feelings regarding the pandemic and his political ideas. I was slowly getting a grip on these theoretical film concepts, when suddenly some of Lorenzo’s words — he was very candid about the way he saw the state of affairs — and a couple of shots from Italy from Autumn last year began morphing together in my mind. And all of a sudden I had a hunch about how the film could start in a different way, and transmit more of the emotional state that this film project is borne out of. I put this together, and started to sort of riff on that approach. And the feedback from Hamburg suddenly sounded very different. Now they were saying ‘this is beginning to look cinematic.’ It felt like I had cracked a secret, like I had passed through a kind of conceptual door, and now I had a better understanding of what my job was.

And it has been that process ever since. I assemble more and more footage, fine tune it with Nick, we polish it, and then we show it to our colleagues. And then a long — sometimes more, sometimes less detailed — feedback session ensues, which is sometimes painful, sometimes controversial, but always constructive, and it allows me to carry on, polish more, and start building the next sequences.

The only downside is that there is hardly anything we can talk about here on the blog. Or show. Currently, we truly live deep down in the mine of our story, shaping and reshaping the film almost every day, and trying to figure out everything — from the most minute details (‘should we change this one word in the voice-over?’) to massive structural questions (‘can we tell Katherine’s and Lorenzo’s stories in parallel, or should it happen one after the other?’). And this part of the job will probably continue until the end of the year. If all goes well.

It’s an incredible journey, and incredibly enjoyable. Editing film is an addictive activity. At the same time, it can sometimes also eat you up. It takes over your whole body when you are enaging with film material of such quantities on such an intense level.

But I love it, and I am grateful that I get to have this experience, and that I get such amazing help. I will look back one day and know that this was one of the best times of my life. When I made my first feature-length film.

Behind the Scenes Gross Domestic Product Introduction

Katherine Trebeck: Corona Virus and Our Economy

A few days ago, I had the chance to catch up with Katherine – one of the two key protagonists in our film – about her thoughts regarding our current crisis, and what it means for changing our economies. This is a summary of the things she mentioned in our call.

Corona is revealing to the wider community that it’s miserably paid armies of people in precarious work, hitherto dismissed as ‘low skill’, who really keep our societies going: the couriers, the nurses, the supermarket checkout staff, the care workers, the refuse collectors. They are now the ones who keep the shop open, who keep our streets clean, who deliver books and groceries to our door to help us get through lockdown. They are the ones who ensure our wellbeing these days.

Whereas the highly paid top managers are nowhere to be seen in such a terrain.

This should make us take a renewed interest in rather boring seeming and less glamorous aspects of our economy: schools, hospitals, the food industry (the so-called ‘foundational economy’). We should hold on to a new recognition of the importance of local supply chains.

And also ask ourselves new questions: what is the Care Economy really worth to us? How much do we value the “gift economy” — i.e. all the services that are provided in everyday life without payment (child supervision among neighbours, care for the elderly in the family, help here and there in the neighbourhood), which keep so much of our lives as individuals and as communities together.

And we should note that despite its vital role, so much of this is not calculated anywhere in the GDP of a country.

That is why now is the time to think new thoughts and imagine a better economy post-corona than the one we had going into it. This phase of crisis enables us to ask questions and give answers that were unthinkable only a short while ago. For example, the current UK Chancellor of the Exchequer seems to be thinking — or at least there were hints of this in some of his press conferences – in terms of the rich having to carry some of the burden of the mammoth income support programmes the government is having to bring in. We’ll see where that ends up, but it would have been hard to have imagined just a few weeks ago.

The risk is that this window of possibility will close again very quickly – that a “rollback” will come as people rush to return to how things were — forgetting or ignoring how grim that was for so many and for our planet. 

There is a similar diversity in the corporate world — the wheat separating from the chaff: some companies are now putting profits aside and trying to live up to their responsibilities. One example that has caught my eye is the supermarket chain Morrisons which has promised all its suppliers that from now on they will pay all deliveries immediately, to help them with their cash flow. This is significant because supermarkets are notorious for slow payment. Another example is whisky distilleries reconfiguring their operations to produce hand sanitizers — and making it available at cost or for free to front line workers. But there are others going in the opposite direction: Amazon has fired people who didn’t dare to come to work because of Corona, a chain of pubs forcing its staff to work when the government was advising against it.

This is exactly why we must do everything we can to start creating a better world now. The opportunity is to build back better as my former colleagues working in humanitarian situations would say. 

A lot of folks have been thinking long and hard for many years — decades even — about how our economy should be. Covid-19 may have just transformed the economic and political landscape so much that these ideas get the hearing they so urgently deserve.

Behind the Scenes OECD South Korea On the Road

2019: A Breakthrough Year for Our Film Project.

The development of this film project in 2019 was rather remarkable.

Originally, we had planned to finish shooting in March of 2019, after a little over a year. And then we wanted to finalise the edit and post-production by the end of 2019.

But then other things happened.

Our stories and protagonists took to the global stage!

The final chapter in our story about the Wellbeing Economy Governments was supposed to be the big OECD conference in South Korea where the initiative was officially launched and publicly announced for the first time. But to be quite frank, that event felt somewhat anti-climactic: It was a so-called “breakfast session” — very early in the morning, in a small room, with hardly anyone attending. And we asked ourselves: This is supposed to be the big breakthrough that shows the world that we need to move away from GDP as the key measure for economic activity?

It seemed a little like the project had failed as it was succeeding.

But it turns out: A small launch can still lead to a big change. In the following months, all kinds of little things were happening in the three WEGo countries, and also between them. And then, another few weeks later, the big news broke that Nicola Sturgeon, the Scottish First Minister, was announcing and explaining the WEGo initiative from the TED stage. To this day, her talk has been watched over 1.7 million times — and that does look a lot more like the big event that we would have hoped for. And then towards the end of the year, Icelandic prime minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir gave a speech about the initiative in London, which got the BBC interested, and which finally even led to a brief radio interview I myself gave to the BBC about the WEGo!

Lorenzo’s story also took an unexpected turn around the middle of the year — he was promoted from Vice Minister to Minister of Education in the surprisingly formed new PD/5-Star government. In this role, he made lots of waves in Italy, he got plenty of pressure from many sides, his policies made him unpopular with many people (because he proposes uncomfortable solutions and he really wants to transform the Italian society for the future), but he has also got international headlines for his push to have Italian schoolchildren taught about sustainable living and the climate in all classes starting with the coming academic year.

All this culminated in him being invited to the Climate Conference in Madrid and to an audience with the Pope. (We were there with the camera for the former, but not for the latter.) And now, just before the end of the year he resigned from his job as minister. Which came as no surprise to us, on the contrary. But the background to his resignation doesn’t belong here, it’ll be in our film. The important thing for us is that we were very lucky: We met a man who was then not even a member of the Italian parliament, and who transformed from a nobody into an internationally recognized politician in just under two years. When he resigned, it was reported internationally in the media. How often do international media usually take an interest in an Italian Minister of Education who’s been in office for only a few weeks?

We found powerful partners!

The second thing that “got in the way” was a partnership for the production and distribution of the film. Around the middle of the year we met a director and producer who is very well established in the German television landscape and who quickly warmed to our project. In November we signed an agreement according to which we will finish and market the film together with his company. We will communicate details about this alliance once there are details to communicate — but for the development of our film it is important that the second half of the year was characterized by getting to know and discussing the film project with our new partners. In our exchanges we thought and learned a lot about how our film can work, how we should structure it and what the focus should be. This was enormously helpful for our understanding of what kind of film we are making. But it also took time, of course.

Because of these two developments, we didn’t finish the film by the end of the year, but we are now planning to get it done by the middle of 2020.

So … we are looking very much forward to an eventful year in which we will see our film finished. The key job now will be to carve out a compelling story from all the material that we have collected. Happy New Year everyone, and wish us luck!

Behind the Scenes climate change

Global Lorenzo.

When we first started thinking about this film in early 2018, Lorenzo Fioramonti was a professor for Political Economy in South Africa, who had given up his job, in order to get involved in Italian politics. He knew very little about the inside of politics, but the “5 Star Movement” had invited him to join their ranks — to become a member of parliament and, potentially, a Minister in the next Italian government. What happened next is hard to summarise. And our film will need to do that job.

What matters to us right now is that you can never know, in documentary film-making, what happens to your protagonists. Sometimes nothing happens at all, to the extent that you realise that you may not even have a film.

And sometimes you get lucky and your protagonist does things that make a difference, that effect change, that have an impact.

Last week, we witnessed Lorenzo making global impact. His plan to introduce climate change education in Italy as a mandatory subject for school children created ripples around the world – after he spoke to Reuters about this plan (who also called him the “Anti-Salvini” in their article), media outlets everywhere picked it up, from Australia to the Netherlands. The New York Times ran a longer article about him and his ideas. CNN reached out. He gave radio interviews to stations in various parts of the world. A German paper praised Lorenzo as a role model for German politicians.

Over the weekend, Lorenzo told us that he got invitations to speak at conferences, he spoke with other ministers in the EU who approached him and want to do something similar in their countries, he even got an invitation to meet the Pope.

When I first heard about Lorenzo and his plan to bring post-GDP thinking to a G7 country like Italy, I thought “this sounds like a very interesting project. And a very interesting guy.” Turns out that has been a major understatement – on both accounts.

And today, we sure are glad to be part of this ride.

Behind the Scenes Introduction

How an Advertising Man Became a Post-Growth Advocate.

I come from the dark side.

Between 1994 and 1999, I studied at two business schools. Then I worked in advertising and marketing from 1999 until 2016 — for 17 years. First I was an employee in a couple of advertising agencies. Then I got a doctorate in Marketing and helped build our own specialised agency, with a group of friends and colleagues. The one over-riding goal of everything was always:


Advertisers may cite many reasons why they work with advertising and marketing agencies, but at the end of the day, they all want the same thing: to grow their market share, their profits, their sales.

And make no mistake: All advertising agencies ever want for themselves is growth, too. More clients. Bigger staff. More campaigns. More money.

Nobody who works in advertising ever questions any of this. There is no time. There is always the next deadline. The next flight to the meeting. The next crazy client request. The next ego emergency. Besides, why question the hand that feeds you? Growth pays for advertising. Then advertising begets more growth. Its a virtuously vicious circle.

I myself had no idea that something might be wrong. And when the news were reporting another year of GDP growth, it was the kind of good news I was happy to hear — I’d grown up in cold war “Economic Miracle” Germany, after all.

And yet, about a dozen years into my career it dawned on me that I could not, would not, should not spend the rest of my days trying to sell more of this shampoo or that floor cleaner. That that was simply not a worthwhile pursuit for a life well lived.

But I couldn’t leave right away, I had to stick it out for another four years, we had to keep growing our business so we could sell our company. I was fairly lucky with my contract and my role in the company — once the deal was done, I could quietly slip out the back door. The new owners hardly even realised that I was no longer there.

It was March 2016. I was in Munich.

I got an electric car — I thought that would be my contribution to protecting the climate. I went to Barcelona for a month, to spend time with friends. Then I moved back to Berlin. Brexit happened. It made me sad. I was living in a small apartment on Urbanstraße in Kreuzberg that I had rented from a friend. I was experimenting with a bit of freedom and with my underused creativity. In other news, the German right-wing party “AfD” was on the rise. I didn’t know what to do about it. Should I be more political? My father had been in politics.

I didn’t have a family of my own (I still don’t), I was alone. I made a hand-drawn animated short film. I reconnected with old friends. I thought about new professions I could take on. I felt a bit lonely. Autumn was coming. But overall, I was trusting that things would somehow be fine.

Then, Donald Trump got elected.

Many were shocked by the news, but ultimately this political earthquake did not leave much of an impact in the daily lives of many people in most European countries. Modern capitalism keeps us simply too busy to care: A presentation is due for the boss. There is the problems with the co-worker at the office. The neighbour just bought a new large SUV. Should we get one, too? One of the children is ill. Let’s just pray that the insurance will cover it. Also, the older one needs a new phone. The car has to go to the garage. A big SUV might feel safer, right? Oh my god, did we remember to book the flights for the holidays? Plus, can we even afford to put Ma in that retirement home? Oh man, health insurance rates went up again.

And so on. And then, at the dinner table, you might find a short moment, you’re looking at one another, saying: “Oh man, Trump is the American President now, that’s something else, isn’t it?” You shake your heads in disbelief, and then it’s back to the daily race.

Well, me … I had none of that.
I was by myself, no one needed me.
I was running nowhere.
No one waited for me.
I had no place to go, no job to do.
Instead, I was looking at the wall in that small apartment — and Trump was always there.

Soon I realised: This wasn’t about a complete catastrophe of a US President. It was about a very different question: What is going on in this world that the United States of America elect someone as horrific as him as “the leader of the free world”.

Where and when had things gone so badly wrong? What had I missed?

2017 became my fact-finding year. I read books and newspapers. I spoke with people. I launched a blog and wrote regularly about my experiences and questions. Soon, the climate crisis rose to the top of my agenda: jointly with my friend Kai Schächtele, I developed a show format called vollehalle — it talks about the climate emergency and the role of us all in it, in a constructive and inspiring manner. We also interviewed Tim Jackson for it. A giant among those who are imagining a better economy. Meeting Tim was my first brush with a new way of thinking about the system I had taken for granted.

And another thing happened to me in 2017: inspired by a small article in the German newspaper “taz”, I discovered the “Netzwerk Plurale Ökonomik” — the German arm of the “Rethinking Economics” student movement. Thanks in part to our meeting with Tim Jackson, and also to David Graeber’s book “Debt” and Wolfgang Streeck’s “Gekaufte Zeit” (English title: “Buying Time“), it was dawning on me that the way we are running and thinking about our economies is probably a big part of the problem. But so far, I hadn’t met anybody who had useful answers. So, I applied to attend the Netzwerk’s first Summer Academy, which took place at the beginning of August 2017 in the small village Neudietendorf outside Erfurt. And I got accepted.

That week in August of 2017 changed my life.

Never before had I seen 90 people — most of them millennial students — so heavily engaged in deep, thoughtful, intellectually curious and generous debate about the major issues of our time. They weren’t shouting their written-in-stone political beliefs or adherence to some political party at one another. Instead, these (mostly) twenty-somethings were soft-spoken and genuinely curious about each other’s thoughts, about how to advance their own thinking, in order to get to new solutions. And they were going at it non-stop, from 8 am at the breakfast table until 2 am at night, as they were having their nightcap beers in the courtyard.

It dawned on me: If there is hope for our world, it’s with critical economics thinkers like these students — with their radically open eyes and their real questions and their genuine curiosity.

And there was something else that I realised: Nobody knows this. Nobody outside these circles knows that the ideas that will solve many of our most dire problems may already exist. And they lie in truly rethinking our economy. In other words, nobody outside these circles seemed to realise that economics was the most important and most exciting subject of our time, if tackled in the right way. I understood that we needed to vehemently start telling these stories and bring this thinking to a wider world. The stories that I was hearing here, the thinking that was going on here, it needed to be shouted off rooftops!

And that was just the informal part of the week.

The biggest part of the official agenda were the workshops. The one I had signed up for was called “Prosperity Economics”, led by Katherine Trebeck and Himanshu Shekhar. At the time, Katherine was a researcher at Oxfam in Scotland. She explained to us how GDP was at best an imperfect measure of progress and how an alternative take on “prosperity” would look at the real issues. She also talked about the challenges of measuring prosperity holistically, in a way that deals with how people’s lives — and the lives of all other living beings on this earth, too! — are really going.


And then she told us about a plan she had, jointly with an Italian professor named Lorenzo Fioramonti who was teaching Political Economics in South Africa. They wanted to build a “counter-G7”: A new summit that would bring countries together who tell the world: “Enough is enough, let’s show the world how to think differently about the economy — in a way that can actually save mankind and this planet.”

They wanted to call it the “WE7”: the Wellbeing Economies 7.

What a story!

Six months later, I got a call from Gustav Theile. He’d been one of the Summer Academy organisers, now he was Katherine’s intern in Glasgow. He told me two things: One, the summit was happening! With Scotland, Costa Rica and Slovenia as the first members, getting together in Slovenia — there, they would jointly sign the Ljubiljana Declaration. And two, Lorenzo had left the project: He was returning to his native Italy, in order to run for office in the Italian election — he wanted to bring his post-GDP thinking into a new Italian Government.

I could not contain my excitement. So I turned to my friend Nick Scholey — a media creation one-man powerhouse, musician, camera operator, editor, all around creative force — and said, “Man, we gotta start making a documentary about this. Let’s go to Scotland and to Rome, let’s start filming these people. What they are doing is too important for the world to miss.”

Neither of us had ever made a documentary. But that didn’t matter. We were now on a mission. And we got support from my friend Kim Münster, a film producer.

Today, one and a half years later, we have hours and hours of footage. Of Lorenzo’s political battles in that strange Five-Star-Lega government, which eventually fell apart — he’s now actually become the Minister for Education, in the brand new Italian Government. And of Katherine travelling around the world, helping save the Wellbeing Economies government project, after the summit in Ljubiljana got cancelled at the last minute. But Katherine and the amazing folks inside the Scottish Government kept at it. And so, a few weeks ago, Nicola Sturgeon, the First Minister of Scotland, gave a TED Talk about how Scotland, Iceland and New Zealand had joined forces as the Wellbeing Economy Governments!

I am a very different person from the one I was in early 2016. I really hope that I will look back one day and say:

I made my way from the dark side to the light. And it wasn’t too late.


This text was originally published a few weeks ago as a guest-piece on the blog. We are cross-posting it here because it tells the background story of this film project.


Behind the Scenes On the Road

Visions of Italy and Scotland.

October was a “picture collection month” for us. We went back to both Scotland and Italy, to collect shots that would help us show the countries that we are speaking about in our film. And they are splendid countries indeed.

Men on a mission in the Highlands: Martin, Mark (Katherine’s husband) and Nick

When in Scotland, drink what the Scots drink (and this time it’s not about alcohol!)

Composition with Tesla, horses and a power station (outside Dunbar)

A composed shot of Katherine at the University of Glasgow

Nick, getting the shot

The view from Todi


Lago di Garda (Limone)

Lago di garda (Limone)


Behind the Scenes

Three Months of Silence: Here Is Why.

We’ve taken too much time off this blog — but it’s not because we were idle. Quite the contrary.

At least a month and a half were filled with us doing two fairly tedious jobs for this film, much of which we couldn’t share — because it is simply way too boring: We had to review all the material that we’ve shot, and log every clip and its content in one endless long spreadsheet. The result: 3913 entries so far … This was necessary for two reasons: One, the person who has done this (that’s Nick) now actually knows our material, has remembered again scenes we had shot and forgotten, and can now spontaeously find things that can become useful for the edit. And two, before we only had countless film clips — now have a searchable database with all our material.

The second job: We had to transcribe the important interviews with our two main protagonists, Katherine and Lorenzo. For Katherine, that was 4 hours 37 minutes, and for Lorenzo a whole lot more because we also included a few of his speeches and TV appearances, and we also spent a bit more time with him than we did with Katherine: 12 hours and 16 minutes. And I had to turn all of that talk into written words … but now that that’s done, it gives us our second searchable database! And we can now really work with the material, it’s great! A lot more fun to edit when you can search and access every single clip you’ve filmed.

And then we’ve been busy with a few more things: We produced a short documentary film together with our friend Ben from “Wolf & Wonder Productions” — it was designed as a pitch to Netflix about a climate change initiative. And we worked very hard on the collaborative climate change show “vollehalle” (in German) that we began developing back in 2017. In early May, we performed it live at the big German Web & Society conference re:publica, and the result is now on YouTube.

And in the past few weeks, a couple of new opportunities opened up — after re:publica, we’re now getting a bunch of requests for our show; we are in the process of discussing the show with some investors who might donate to help us fund its development; we’re beginning talks with a few movers and shakers in the German entertainment industry, about further developing vollehalle; and finally we hope to establish a collaboration with a larger and more established film production company for this very documentary film project — they very much like the project, and want to help us with financing, post production and distribution.

So … a lot has happened these past few weeks and months, but we’ll return to working on the actual film now, and we’ll also try to figure out how to return to sharing more of that experience with you — now that the phase of shooting it is over, and the post production phase has begun. Which may seem less interesting, but it is actually the really fun part: Now we’ll assemble the film from all the material that we’ve collected — now we get to actually make the film!

Behind the Scenes On the Road

Video from Our Last Trip to Rome.

Our final trip to Rome, Jeffrey Sachs about Wellbeing vs. Trump, a prime minister bailing out, and a Tesla breaking down — all in under four minutes!

Behind the Scenes On the Road

Our Farewell Tour to Rome.

It’s been over a month that we’ve published our last post here on the blog and on Facebook, when we introduced our new “partner in crime” Rou Reynolds. We didn’t really mean to take that long a break, but there was just a lot going on in other areas of our lives, and the work we started doing for the film at the beginning of the year is maybe a little less interesting now: We now need to review and transcribe all the material that we have collected, i. e. carefully look at and write down everything that we’ve filmed. The biggest task in that may be the transcription of all the interviews that we’ve done — writing down word for word what our (key) protagonists have told us. Only then can you properly work with all that content.

If we only look at the key conversations with Katherine Trebeck, cutting it down to only the things she said to us (in other words, taking out our questions, etc.), we still end up with over four and half hours of footage. I’m almost done transcribing that. The next job will be to transcribe everything that we’ve got from Lorenzo Fioramonti, and with him we did a whole lot more interviews, so … I’ll be transcribing those for weeks.

But this week, we’re back on the road. It’s the last regular filming trip that we’re taking to Italy — Lorenzo and his team are putting on a “Wellbeing Economy Conference” here in Rome on Thursday, and we’ve come down one more time to follow Lorenzo, spend time with him, and film at the conference.

During the week, we’re staying at Nicoletta’s and Daniele’s place — Nicoletta is Lorenzo’s personal assistant, we’ve known her for quite some time now, and we’ve become friends with her and her boy-friend Daniele. And for this week, they invited us to stay with them, which is incredibly generous. The apartment outside Rome where they live has an amazing terrace with an incredible view, and that’s where we had breakfast this morning (see the photo above). In a few minutes, we’ll travel into the city, and then it’s back to work, filming and trying to figure out how to best capture what we see before us.

We’ll also try to post more frequently on our Facebook profile and/or our Instagram account this week, so maybe see you there.