Have you ever wondered why, despite living in one of the most advanced and resource-rich eras in history, so many people still feel financially insecure?  Why does competition seem to outweigh collaboration?  Or why things that used to be free now come with a price tag?

At the heart of these experiences is a powerful narrative: the myth of scarcity.

Scarcity: The Story We’ve Inherited
Modern economics often rests on two core assumptions:
·     Resources are limited.
·     People act to maximize their self-interest.

This framework has helped shape policies, systems, and behaviors—but what if these assumptions aren’t universal truths?  What if they’re cultural stories we’ve internalized?

The belief in scarcity is deeply embedded in our history.  We’ve divided the world into good and bad, natural and manmade, wild and domestic.  And through this lens, society has framed its mission as one of domination—waging “wars” on poverty, drugs, crime, inflation, and more.

But this battle-based ideology comes at a cost: if there’s not enough to go around, we’re conditioned to fight for what we can get.  “It’s a dog-eat-dog world.” Self-interest is glorified.  Community becomes optional.  And social status becomes a proxy for security.

How Scarcity Shapes Our Systems
We can see the scarcity mindset reflected in national priorities.  In 2023, the U.S. spent 62% of its discretionary budget on militarized programs: war, policing, incarceration, and deportation.
(source: Institute for Policy Studies).

It’s also embedded in our economy:
·     75% of U.S. households can’t afford a median-priced new home.
·     20% of all food produced is wasted.
·     Products are increasingly designed to break or become obsolete.

Scarcity, in many cases, isn’t just a condition—it’s engineered.  Bottled water, for example, only exists once something abundant is made exclusive.  Economic growth has become entangled with creating artificial scarcity.

Living With Not-Enoughness
Even in affluent societies, scarcity drives anxiety.  We make decisions—not just financial ones—based on what we can afford.  We equate wealth with freedom.  Subscription models have turned everyday conveniences into recurring expenses.  Even the wealthy aren’t immune: when everything is tied to money, no amount feels like enough.

And if money is scarce, then everything else feels scarce too—including time, health, joy, and connection.

What’s the Alternative?
Abundance.

Imagine a future where our systems aren’t built around managing scarcity, but around nurturing enoughness.  What if the next breakthrough in fintech wasn’t about faster payments or higher yields—but about replacing money and its scorekeeping entirely?

What are your thoughts?
Is the scarcity mindset holding us back?  What would a system rooted in abundance look like to you?