Hold On, Regenerators: The Paradigm Shift is Just Around the Corner
The superorganism is not something we battle; it is something we recognize.
Nate Hagens defines the superorganism as a collective human system driven by biological, cultural, and economic forces, where individual behaviors and decisions aggregate into a larger self-perpetuating global entity.
Its currents move us, regardless of our desire to change or preserve them. The system, as it stands, is in the throes of its own unraveling.
It is not a matter of “if” but “when” it will cease to exist in its current form. We can feel the subtle hum of its self-termination, much like a tree that has rotted at the core yet still stands, waiting for the inevitable fall. The old story is dying, and a new one is already whispering to us.
Bill Sharpe’s three horizons give us a map to navigate this shift. The first horizon represents the system we are part of now, the one that is fraying. Horizon two is the intermediary space where the conflict is greatest — the tools of the present, stretched to meet the demands of the future. Horizon three is where the future is born, the place where what we dream of begins to take shape.
If you listen carefully, you will hear the voices of those who have already diagnosed the system’s fate. Daniel Schmachtenberger, Nate Hagens, Indy Johar— they all speak to this same process of dissolution. They see the patterns, the feedback loops, and the cycles of extraction that cannot sustain themselves much longer. The system is devouring itself, and we can no longer hold onto the illusion that it will be saved. We must let it pass.
In the face of this, how do we act?
For so long, it has felt like being a single drop of water hurled at a rock, endlessly rebounding off its surface without making a mark. It is the feeling of resistance, of futility.
Yet, water persists, and with time, the rock begins to erode. Slowly, the path is carved. But here is the revelation: it was never just me, nor you. We are part of a current — a flow much larger than ourselves. Each drop that strikes the stone contributes to the eventual breakthrough. Together, we shape the future, even when it feels like nothing is moving.
This is what it means to live in the space of horizon two.
It is the messy, liminal space between the old and the new. It is where we work, regenerators standing at the threshold, guiding the water more skillfully, using the tools of the present to shape the future.
Our work is not in vain, though it often feels that way. The design of the new paradigm emerges through this very process, through the persistence of the flow.
At some point, something cracks. A passage opens. The third horizon begins to come through. The old world doesn’t disappear overnight, but it becomes increasingly irrelevant. What remains is the new, emerging like water flowing through a freshly carved channel, no longer obstructed.
This is our role as regenerators.
We do not force the future into being; we work with the forces that are already here. We guide them, shape them, and prepare the ground for what is to come.
In time, the future that has always been waiting will emerge. It is not a matter of “winning” or “losing”; it is about aligning with the inevitable shift, becoming part of the current that carries the world forward.
Before You Leave!
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