Shrinking the Gap and Growing Together
Let’s step back into our garden for a moment because there’s something magical about the way it helps us think about the economy. Picture it again: a community garden, vast and vibrant, with all kinds of people tending their plots. Some are growing abundant orchards, others are experimenting with heirloom vegetables, and a few are just trying to get their first flowers to bloom. It’s not perfect—some gardeners have way more resources than others—but it’s a place full of potential.
Now, let’s talk about that gap. You know the one. In today’s economy, a handful of “master gardeners” (the billionaires) control nearly all the best tools, the richest soil, and most of the water supply. Meanwhile, the everyday gardener—the average worker—is left to scrape by with whatever’s left. Sure, there’s still beauty in their garden, but can you imagine how much more it could thrive if resources were more fairly shared?
In our reimagined garden, the richest gardeners wouldn’t hoard everything. They’d still have impressive plots, but they wouldn’t own the entire water source or fence off the sunniest corner for themselves. Instead, resources would be shared more evenly, giving every gardener a fair shot at success.
This doesn’t mean dragging down the top performers—it’s not about taking away their prized blooms. It’s about making sure that no one’s plot is barren, that everyone has what they need to grow something meaningful. And the result? The whole garden becomes more beautiful and abundant. Because let’s be honest: a garden where only a few plots thrive isn’t much of a garden at all.
And here’s the thing about resources in our garden—they’re finite. Whether it’s water, sunlight, or fertile soil, these things don’t replenish themselves overnight. In today’s economy, a lot of these resources (think land, forests, and minerals) are controlled by a small group of corporations. They extract as much as they can, often with little thought for the long-term consequences. But in a garden worth its name, you don’t treat the soil like a disposable commodity. You take care of it, so it keeps giving back.
In our garden economy, this would mean treating the earth’s resources as shared assets. Instead of exploiting them for short-term profit, we’d use them carefully, making sure they’re available for future generations. Think sustainable farming rather than strip mining. It’s not just kinder to the planet—it’s smarter for everyone.
Now, let’s talk about the gardeners who can’t participate directly. In any community, there are people who can’t work the soil—whether they’re too young, too old, or too unwell. In today’s economy, these people are often left to rely on charity or fend for themselves. But in our garden, no one would be forgotten. Maybe they can’t plant or harvest, but they’re still part of the community. Their wisdom, their stories, and their presence matter.
The rest of the gardeners would share their harvest—not out of pity, but because that’s what communities do. After all, when everyone’s taken care of, the garden feels like a place of belonging. And isn’t that the point?
Here’s another thing I love about the garden model: it gives people room to experiment. When gardeners aren’t worried about losing their plots or struggling just to survive, they can get creative. Maybe someone decides to cross-pollinate two flowers to create a new hybrid. Maybe another gardener figures out how to grow strawberries in the shade. In this kind of environment, innovation thrives because people feel safe enough to take risks.
And when people collaborate—sharing ideas, tools, and techniques—the whole garden benefits. It’s not just about individual success; it’s about lifting each other up and creating something greater together.
At the end of the day, our garden metaphor comes down to this: it’s about balance. A garden doesn’t work if only a few plots thrive while others go untended. It also doesn’t work if we drain the soil and water dry in the process. But when resources are shared, when every gardener has a fair chance, and when no one is left out of the harvest, the garden flourishes. We can call it capitalism with a conscience in a democracy.
And isn’t that what we want for our economy? A system where success is rewarded, effort is valued, and no one is left behind. A system that’s sustainable, equitable, and full of life. It’s not just a dream—it’s something we can grow together. All it takes is the will to start planting.