Some years ago, I stumbled on the work of futurist Paul Saffo, specifically his theory of social economies. He argued that American life after World War II was shaped by the industry of production, giving us what he called a producer economy. This state of mind gave way in the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s to a consumer economy. Instigated by the financial crisis of 2008–2009, this eventually gave way to what, in an article for McKinsey Quarterly, Saffo called a creator economy.
This shift in social consciousness that moves through producing, consuming and creating not only rings true, but it explains some of the dynamic changes we have all experienced but often struggle to explain. I believe that the creator economy will be (and is being) replaced by what we could call a collaborator economy.
Of course, there will be significant cultural overlap between creating and collaborating. Just as builders became consumers, and consumers became creators, creators will soon become collaborators. The work of creation is even now being reimagined in light of collaboration. The act of co-creation will continue to capture our imagination and ultimately become a primary engine that drives ministry, business, charity and even social environments.
One of the dynamics of the overlap between creative and collaborative work is that it represents the last gasp of a consumer sensibility. Of course, all these dynamics are still at play, but the sun is setting on consumerism as a meaningful way of gathering people. That means, among other things, that new relationships will emerge between churches and ministries. People and brands that have been positioned as competitors will now be seen as potential collaborators and allies in the work of co-creation.
Championing Collaboration
Hubert Joly, former chairman and CEO of Best Buy Co. Inc., tells the story of Best Buy’s revival in his book The Heart of Business. Facing some dire disruptive realities brought on by the near monopoly of online retail electronics, Best Buy was in trouble. How could they possibly continue to compete? They couldn’t.
But they could collaborate. Thinking about his competitors as friends and potential collaborators, Joly realized that his pain points were very different from theirs. And therein lay the opportunity.
Best Buy had centrally located stores, warehouses, infrastructure and knowledgeable staff. Online retailers typically did not. So, why not give them space in his store? By thinking about their needs and his assets, Joly uncovered an approach that served everyone.
When you walk into a Best Buy today, you will see several stores within a store. There is an Apple store, a Samsung store, and even an Amazon store all under one roof. The benefit to those brands (that either have no brick-and-mortar solution or have too few products to warrant them) was enormous. This collaborative move saved Best Buy. It may well save us too.
I am starting to see this same impulse in cause alliances based on collective impact—in churches opening their physical spaces to other ministries as hubs for co-working or community centers, and in churches forming unity movements around the country. I have some direct leadership experience in each of these areas, and I can say that it is churches that have been the most resistant to the work of unity and collaboration. And yet, the deeper I go down this collaboration rabbit hole, the more I have come to believe that the church is somehow the key that unlocks it all.
Church planting, multiplication, disciple-making movements and the growth of microchurches all represent vital and exciting trends in mission. But can we really conceive of any of them flourishing if we keep our churches in silos?
When taken together, the church is perhaps the most formidable economic, social and spiritual enterprise in our world. Yet, there is no rational hope for transformation as long as we remain dis-integrated. This is perhaps some of the most important work that lies ahead for us.
The Story of Us
In “What Is Public Narrative: Self, Us and Now,” Marshall Ganz, senior lecturer in public policy at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, argues that we tell stories to usher in social change. That change comes to us as a triangulation of three stories: the story of self, the story of now, and the story of us.
We all have a unique and important story. The story of self is perhaps the easiest to tell. The story of now is also within reach. As cultural commentators and leaders within a time and context, we have our own sense of the changing tides of culture and social sensibilities. However, perhaps the furthest from our reach is the story of us.
In John 17, Jesus forever ties the fulfillment of his mission (and our deepest longings) to the story of us. That is to say, the story of his people, his church, united in a trusting, loving relationship as a witness to the truth of the gospel, the revelation of God in Jesus, and the potency of the kingdom he promises. The kingdom will not come without collaboration. We are, all of us, a part of the body of Christ in our region. We are, all of us, the church in the city. And this reality is not altered by our own misgivings, shortcomings or lack of connection.
In my view, deeper relationships between the churches in our cities, resulting in greater collaboration, is a goal as big as any we can conceive. Precisely because in the search for that elusive goal Jesus is somehow glorified. Unity through collaboration is an innovation, not because it is a new idea, but because it is an old idea that has yet to be fully tried.
Still, for the story of us to be a triumphal story, we will need a shared goal beyond unity itself. We will need to become more interested in our common cause than in our differences. It is there, in the hope for our cities, and the yearning for faith and justice, that we find a cause too big for any one of us.
Collaboration is harder in the church, not because we believe it is unbiblical, but because we are afraid. I am not sure how to overcome that fear except to find our collective purpose again. To see something as so important, so worthwhile that we overlook our suspicion and fear to risk collaboration. Part of why we do not collaborate is because we have lost sight of the stakes. A unified church, drilled and skilled in collaboration, proposes to be a rising tide for every other social collaboration.
The world is waiting for us to remember who we are.
Our shared concerns for the gospel, the well-being of our cities, and ultimately the glory of God should be enough for us to take meaningful steps toward collaboration. We are all called to be salt and light in the places we call home, and if we pursue that work together, we might somehow fulfill that most sacred of all prayers that Jesus prayed over and for us, “that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17:23).