What is futures thinking, really? Why does it matter? And what exactly is studied in ‘futures studies’? I answer these questions across multiple pieces.
This newsletter is called Thinking Futures for a reason.
Using the plural futures was the very first thing I learned when stepping into the field. This goes beyond grammar — it’s a philosophical, even political stance. What’s the difference between the future and futures? Why does intentionally adding that small *s* matter so much for how we think and feel about what’s to come? Let’s figure it out.
The future has a monopoly problem
We’ve been sold countless predictions, pitches, and news headlines declaring that the future belongs to X, or: Y is what’s next.
These simplified, doubtless visions are often created and amplified by people with the most power and money — and usually, with an agenda. Like any monopoly, the goal isn’t just to win, but to shut down the competition.
A monopoly over the future is about making it seem like there’s only one viable way forward, and blocking alternatives from entering the conversation.
A simple act of adding an *s* to futures signals a commitment to broader, more critical, more inclusive thinking. It holds space for uncertainty, possibility, and multiple paths.12 I believe this shift in perspective matters for all of us, and I want to explain why.
The power play behind the future
The narrative of the future as a predetermined path is one of the most powerful tools that dominant systems use (read: people running them and benefiting from them).
It is, first and foremost, a narrative of inevitability. It tells us that the way things are, or the way they are about to become, is the only way they can be. Sometimes these narratives even promise something new or innovative, but upon closer examination, that new still serves the power structures.
This idea of the inevitable future shows up everywhere: in political speeches, Silicon Valley product pitches, and news headlines. We often end up calling the people selling these ideas visionaries. But most of the time, it’s not vision, it’s marketing.
Not unexpectedly, the myth of an inevitable future offers us a strange kind of comfort. Even if the future is grim — robots will steal your job! — at least it feels certain. And certainty, even when bleak, is easier for the brain to hold than the anxiety of not knowing. Once you hear a prediction enough times, you may even start circulating it yourself. (Good for you if it’s a choice you made after weighing alternatives. Too bad if you’re missing all the other ways we could live.)
The myth of the inevitable future leads to passivity, tricks us into believing that we follow along the predetermined path, powerless to shape it. This myth flattens alternatives. It obscures the ideas, values, and futures that many of us would choose if given a real choice. Monopoly over the future steals our imagination. It steals our agency.
The primary reason to use futures, thus, is to reclaim them, to remind ourselves that the future is not predetermined, and to emphasize possibility. Using futures promotes more creative, expansive thinking — and a more inclusive one too, because different people, communities, and cultures may experience different futures.
If you’re reading this newsletter, I’m guessing you already feel suspicious about linear, singular future narratives. You sense that the world is messier — and you’re right. To push back against the myth of one future, we need mental models that open up possibility. Let me introduce you to one of them.
The Futures Cone
The Futures Cone is one of the foundational frameworks of futures studies, and one of the most popularized beyond the field. The “classification” of futures dates back to the 1970s, with early cone visualizations emerging in the 1990s, and eventually, the version that stuck was developed by futurist Joseph Voros in the early 2000s. We’re looking at a slightly simplified version today (you can find Voros' full explanation here), but it still captures the core idea: there are multiple futures, not just one.
The Futures Cone starts at the narrow point of the “now” and widens as it extends into the future. That widening matters because the further ahead we think, the broader is the range of possibilities. Longer time horizons allow for more uncertainty and more possibility. Inside the cone, you see alternative future outcomes branching out. Every single point here represents one version of the future. Another important thing: the cone represents a point of view. The model makes it clear that imagined futures are different depending on who you ask.
Let’s look more closely at the different types of futures in the Futures Cone:
At the center are probable futures — outcomes that seem most likely to happen based on our current knowledge, assumptions, and mental models.
Plausible futures surround probable ones — these futures could happen, given what we know about the world; They fit our mental framework, but they aren’t necessarily expected.
Further out sit possible futures. Those futures don’t come easily to our thinking, as they don’t fit our current knowledge, beliefs, and worldviews. They also may include events, breakthroughs, or paradigm shifts we haven’t yet discovered. Envisioning possible futures often takes a deliberate stretch of imagination and a fair share of unlearning.
In this model, all probable futures are plausible, and all plausible futures are also possible, like nested Russian dolls. Because these categories are based on perception, they can shift over time. Ideas we once dismissed as highly unlikely can move into the area of plausible or probable. Before Covid-19, a major global pandemic was seen as unlikely, almost impossible. Today, we are more aware of this risk.
Is this what you want?
Then there’s a different kind of category altogether: preferable (or desirable) futures.3 These are the future outcomes we want to happen. Here we start to intentionally think about, and ideally act to shape desirable futures. Unlike the other kinds of futures, preferable futures aren’t arranged by the perceived likelihood; they cut across the whole cone. This is because our ideas of what we prefer can range from what’s most likely all the way to the wild, almost impossible futures.
There's also the opposite: undesirable futures — those we hope don't happen, outcomes we believe should be resisted, prevented, or mitigated.
And again, remember that the cone reflects a point of view. Desirability is subjective. What's preferable to me may look dystopian to you. And the Futures Cone helps us see how every singular future marketed to us is really someone's desirable future, projected onto everyone else. Meanwhile, there is the whole plethora of alternative futures sitting around it.
This model is a simple but powerful way to start thinking about futures in the plural. It prompts us to assess what we deem probable, plausible, possible — and most importantly, desirable. It helps us position every “the future is X” claim within our own worldview: Do I think it’s possible? Is it what I want? What are the alternatives here? And whose desirable future is it, really? These are the first steps toward critical thinking about the future that you can start taking today.
Jennifer Gidley, climate educator and futures researcher, wrote that with futures thinking
one begins to realise that there is a wealth of possible futures and that these possibilities can be shaped in different ways.
I love the word wealth here. Wealth isn’t just about money or status. It's about having more than one way forward. That is why we need futures, not the future. When we reclaim the plural in futures, we reclaim possibility and agency to imagine and build the future that we hope for.
Of course, singular use has its place, for instance, when using the future as a simple temporal reference (as in let’s keep in touch in the future, or I am worried about my future). Although I’ve read some works of futurists that avoid using it even as a temporal reference, opting for neologisms like later-than-now.
It’s also a litmus test to tell the difference between pop-tech hype futurism and the more grounded futures work that actually matters.
I personally prefer the term desirable instead of preferable, because it contrasts better with all the alliterated P-words.
Cover photo: Janice McDonald “Spaces Beetween”, collage on wood panel, 2018
I am completely enthralled with this expansive new way of thinking! Well, 'new' for me. I am flooded with new perspectives already just having read some of your Notes and this post. I look forward to delving into more.
The Futures Cone is fascinating. We have taken the idea of a "future" for granted, and to just add that 's' -- changes everything. It also takes some personal power back from grasping at narratives thrown around by others in culture, politics, everywhere.