Shoestring Slow

Remember the fast-money '80s? We steeped our culture in excess and conspicuous consumption, and never quite backed off from that push for more, more, more. After watching the stock market (and your retirement fund) rise and fall over the last few decades, you won't be surprised to hear that money moves fast. But have we ever stopped to ask if it should?

Woody Tasch's book, Inquiries into the Nature of Slow Money, from Chelsea Green Publishing, examines how the speed and disconnectedness of our financial systems has led to the distancing of people from their communities and their land, and the demise of rich culture.

Your first thought might be towards that investment fund you've heard about which takes social mission into consideration. Yet even socially-conscious funds are often fraught with compromises intended to wring profits instead of grow communities.

Like shallow-organic farming practices, which turn back to huge conglomerates to provide "natural" solutions instead of going straight to nature -- this kind of investing eventually looks just like the traditional missionless money management. The changes needed are more sweeping than simply adding a few token "responsible" companies to a hedge fund, much like spreading "greener" chemicals on a garden will simply not be a viable long-term solution to soil health.

The book is streaked with fascinating (and alarming) facts, like:

"To make the list of the top twenty-five hedge-fund managers in 2002 required personal compensation of at least $30 million; in 2006, $240 million."

"Despite a tenfold increase in pesticide use since 1945, crop losses due to pests have almost doubled."

"The industrialization of food production -- large-scale monoculture, genetically modified varieties, and the consolidation of seed production by agribusiness companies -- has resulted in dramatic declines in the biodiversity of cultivated crops.... 95 percent of cabbage, 91 percent of corn, 94 percent of pea, and 81 percent of tomato varieties were lost during the twentieth century."

If that last quote doesn't shame the average home gardener into vowing to cultivate and heirloom plant or two this year, nothing will.

So what can we do, as investors, to stop the gush of health, safety, and community out of the broken faucet of our financial system? Tasch proposes a new Main Street Exchange in which small, local, and slow businesses are the targets for investment and venture capital. Dollars that go into the system are still expected to generate returns; however, the focus is on enriching communities and helping often-overlooked small businesses achieve their goals.

Imagine if you were able to put the same amount that you invest yearly into detached, faraway corporations into a local co-op six miles away. You could become familiar with your investment, their success would directly benefit your community, and you might even find that they have the best rhubarb you've ever tasted. All of that in addition to your yearly return on investment. You might start to find, like Tasch, that "air, water, and soil are the currencies of our future."

It might not be fast, but it feels right.