Begin with the end in mind
Policy designed for the ages starts here
There’s a rule popularized by the author Stephen Covey: begin with the end in mind. Know where you’re headed before you take the first step. It’s common sense in a boardroom, and almost unheard of in the halls of political power.
Political groups, parties, and activists do have end goals, of course. But those goals tend to be short-term and narrow — economic, programmatic, or electoral. Policies are too often shaped by what it takes to survive the next election cycle rather than by the kind of society we want to hand to our grandchildren’s grandchildren.
I don’t believe this long-term thinking is as hard as it sounds. Pause and imagine the world you hope today’s choices will produce for future generations. Don’t start with a specific bill, program, or headline. Ask instead: What traits and capacities do we most want our descendants to inherit from us?
Here is my list. See how it sits with you:
Love: The active, unselfish interest in and affection for other people and their well-being — not a duty owed by strangers or institutions, but something personally given.
Peace: Not merely the absence of war, but the refusal to pursue policies that sow division or interfere with people’s peaceful pursuit of their own highest purpose.
Respect: Never initiating force, fraud, or theft against another person or their property, and honoring their peaceful choices regardless of whether one agrees with them, or whether they succeed or fail.
Compassion: The willingness to see suffering and personally help ease it, rather than merely feeling bad or delegating the task to others.
Connection: The ability to build and sustain real, human bonds.
Community: We are a human family, sharing one planet and one common ancestry, understanding that we’re ultimately in this together.
Public policy should begin with these six guideposts, because this is “end in mind.” Every major decision should be weighed against whether it moves us toward or away from this vision. Does a policy make genuine love and compassion easier or harder? Does it deepen connection and community, or fray them? Does it promote peace and respect, or undermine them?
I’m using these words in their active, personal sense — the sense that requires direct relationship and skin in the game. Reasonable people can debate the exact wording, but this framework offers a clearer lens than the usual partisan shouting and, you might find, that there’s more that unites us than divides us.
In future essays, I’ll explore this concept more and how it has the potential to change the conversation for the better.


