The Great Inversion

When Abundance Creates Crisis and Scarcity Drives Prosperity

For centuries, economics has taught us that scarcity drives value and abundance eases crisis. Yet today, that equation has flipped. From universities to pension systems, from energy grids to artificial intelligence, we are living through what can only be described as a great value inversion—a moment when abundance destabilizes systems and scarcity produces prosperity.

Take higher education. In the United States, a four-year degree once signaled guaranteed mobility. Today, it looks more like a declining asset. Only 35% of Americans now see college as “very important,” compared with 75% in 2010. Just 22% believe a degree is worth the cost when loans are included, while 76% of trade school graduates say their investment paid off. The numbers reflect a deep structural shift. Universities continue to price degrees as though credential premiums endure, but the labor market says otherwise. Employers are increasingly dropping degree requirements, and the Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce has shown that in half of U.S. labor markets, at least 50% of credentials being awarded today are in the wrong fields to meet projected demand (Georgetown CEW report). Apprenticeships, meanwhile, have doubled in the last decade, quietly staging a renaissance. The inversion is clear: credentials deflate while skills appreciate.

Europe’s pension systems reveal a similar reversal. Once designed to balance generations, they are now tilted decisively toward the old. In France, retirees’ incomes grow faster than inflation or GDP, while in the UK, reforms skew benefits toward current pensioners at the expense of future workers. The intergenerational contract has frayed. Youth once symbolized prosperity; today, it shoulders tax burdens to sustain a gerontocracy. Aging electorates, wielding disproportionate political power, resist reforms that could restore balance. Abundance of political influence for the elderly translates into scarcity of opportunity for the young.

Energy markets demonstrate the inversion in its most literal form. Across Europe, Texas, and California, electricity prices regularly turn negative during solar peaks. In the Netherlands alone, 474 hours of negative prices were recorded in just the first eight months of 2025 (PV Magazine). In Spain, surpluses have even triggered regional blackouts, as automatic protection systems disconnect overloaded grids. These failures are not born of scarcity but of abundance. The infrastructure was built for centralized generation in an age of scarcity; it cannot handle the distributed, zero-marginal-cost flows of renewable power. Market rules that once rewarded predictability now penalize oversupply. Abundance has become destabilizing.

And then there is artificial intelligence. For decades, digital technology was heralded as “weightless”—Uber without cars, Airbnb without hotels. Yet AI reveals the opposite. Training a frontier model consumes $490 million, 310 GWh of electricity, and emits 150,000 tons of CO2. The bottlenecks are painfully physical: GPUs, cooling systems, grid capacity. Generator delivery times have stretched from 30 weeks in 2019 to over 100 weeks in 2025. NVIDIA, not the thousands of startups building applications, captures the lion’s share of value. McKinsey estimates $5.2 trillion in new data center investment will be required by 2030 (Financial Times analysis). Far from transcending scarcity, AI is tethered to it. Software abundance rests on hardware scarcity.

Taken together, these examples reveal a deeper truth: we are pricing tomorrow with yesterday’s models. Universities act as if credential premiums remain intact. Pension systems assume pyramidal demographics that have flattened into columns. Energy markets penalize renewables even as fossil fuels retain subsidies. AI companies speak of exponential software while chained to material bottlenecks. Institutions designed for scarcity struggle in a world increasingly defined by abundance.

The answer is not to fight these inversions but to adapt to them. Economic systems must evolve from scarcity logic to abundance logic: from extraction to manufacturing, from pipelines to platforms, from static efficiency to adaptive capacity. Metrics, too, must change. GDP counts depletion as growth and ignores integration capacity. Education tallies credential completions rather than labor relevance. Pension solvency is measured without regard to intergenerational fairness. To thrive, we need measures that capture network effects, learning rates, and adaptive resilience.

The great value inversion is not a temporary anomaly—it is a structural signal of the exponential age. Degrees that no longer guarantee prosperity, retirees who out-earn the young, grids collapsing from surplus, AI bottlenecked by hardware—all reflect a collision between institutions built for scarcity and technologies producing abundance.

The winners of this era will be those who embrace abundance thinking, redraw economic maps, and build organizations capable of adaptation. Those who cling to scarcity-era assumptions will face obsolescence.

At EPHOR Co., we help leaders recognize these inflection points and design strategies that transform disruption into opportunity. We craft communications and advocacy that build trust, influence policy, and protect reputations in a world where the rules of value themselves are shifting. The message is clear: in the age of inversion, abundance creates its own crises, and scarcity drives prosperity. Mastering that paradox is the key to shaping the future.

Culture in the Age of AI

How Technology is Reshaping Excellence

The twenty-first century confronts us with a paradox. At the very moment artificial intelligence appears to be automating our professional lives and redefining what it means to be excellent, we may also be witnessing the stirrings of a cultural renaissance. High culture—long associated with exclusivity, refinement, and depth—is beginning to assume renewed relevance, not despite AI, but because of it. When viewed through the philosophical lens of the 80,000 Hours framework and the shifting hierarchies of skills that AI is producing, it becomes clear why human-centered pursuits like ballet and opera may soon be more valued than ever.

To understand this unfolding dynamic, we must first appreciate what high culture means in contemporary society. Pierre Bourdieu described it as a form of cultural capital: not just works of art themselves, but the knowledge, tastes, and embodied practices that surround them (Bourdieu’s Cultural Capital, Cultural Capital). Ballet, opera, and classical music are not only aesthetic experiences—they are also markers of education, interpretation, and refinement. They function as social signals, but they also serve a deeper purpose: shaping values, strengthening communities, and sustaining continuity with humanity’s intellectual and emotional heritage (High Culture). And far from being a fading relic of the past, high culture is increasingly accessible, with ballet in particular drawing younger audiences and expanding its global reach through streaming and social media (Arts Participation, Ballet Performance Market Report).

This resurgence is happening in parallel with another intellectual movement: the 80,000 Hours framework, rooted in effective altruism. By urging us to consider the long-term impact of our careers and decisions, it reframes how we think about purpose. At first glance, dedicating time to high culture seems inconsistent with the goal of maximizing global welfare. Why focus on dance or symphonies when existential risks loom large? But longtermism reminds us that shaping human values is itself a critical contribution. Preserving and cultivating culture helps societies endure. It fosters higher-order thinking—creativity, critical judgment, empathy—that becomes more valuable as machines take over routine tasks (Higher-order Thinking & AI, Human Skills in AI Education).

This is where AI’s role comes into sharper focus. AI is not simply displacing work; it is reshaping the very hierarchies of skills. Technical expertise once prized as scarce is becoming increasingly commoditized. Meanwhile, meta-skills like ethical reasoning, cultural interpretation, and emotional intelligence rise in importance precisely because they resist automation (AI & Creativity, Human Skills in AI Age, AI and Human Skills). This shift reframes human activity as a form of luxury: the premium offering in a world where algorithms handle the routine (Humans as Luxury, The Human Edge). Just as a sommelier’s story enriches a bottle of wine far beyond its raw ingredients, a ballet performance delivers something no dataset can replicate—the risk, the virtuosity, the human presence shared with others in real time.

Ballet is a paradigmatic case of this transformation. It requires physical mastery, narrative expression, and cultural literacy, all deeply embodied and irreducibly human (Ballet and Music). Despite predictions that younger generations might abandon high culture, evidence suggests the opposite. Institutions experimenting with affordability, accessibility, and digital outreach are attracting diverse new audiences (Dutch Opera & Ballet Occupancy, Younger Audiences). The Dutch National Opera & Ballet, for example, recently reported record seat occupancy alongside rising participation from younger demographics. The global ballet performance market itself is projected to grow steadily in the years ahead, propelled by rising incomes, streaming exposure, and renewed cultural curiosity (Ballet Market Report).

The implications are both economic and social. As AI erodes the scarcity value of many technical tasks, we may find renewed demand for careers in cultural production, interpretation, and education (Future of Human Skills). Skills that once seemed ancillary—curation, critique, teaching, performance—gain new economic relevance. And socially, new forms of excellence emerge. Instead of being measured only by technical problem-solving, human distinction may increasingly be associated with cultural literacy, aesthetic sensitivity, and social grace (AI & Human Skills Revalorization). This is not elitism reinvented, but rather a broader distribution of excellence, as cultural participation becomes both more accessible and more vital.

Skeptics rightly note the challenges. AI-generated art could flood the cultural space and risk diluting appreciation (Creative Stagnation, Creativity Debate). Economic disruption could limit disposable incomes for cultural engagement (Opera Market Trends, Declining Human Skills). Institutions long tied to tradition may struggle to adapt quickly enough (Cultural Shifts 2025, Norm Formation & AI). Yet the broader dynamics remain persuasive: AI’s advance frees human attention for activities that machines cannot authentically replicate. And if longtermism is correct in viewing cultural continuity as part of civilizational resilience, then investment in high culture is not a luxury but a necessity.

What emerges is what we might call the Renaissance Hypothesis: the idea that AI’s automation of routine cognitive labor will catalyze renewed engagement in cultural, interpretive, and embodied forms of human excellence (Shaping Society 5.0, Shaping AI’s Impact). Unlike the Renaissance of centuries past, this one will not be confined to elites. Digital tools democratize access, while live performance retains its scarcity value (Ballet’s Bright Future, Studio Boekman, Participation Models). Global cultural traditions can converge and cross-pollinate, yielding hybrid forms that reflect an interconnected world (Global Cultural Dissemination, Culture Trends 2025, AI & CCI).

In the end, the rise of AI compels us to ask what activities justify our uniquely human time and energy. The answer may lie not in competing with machines but in deepening those capabilities that define us as human: cultural understanding, aesthetic appreciation, emotional resonance, social connection (Human Skills AI Can’t Replace). Ballet, opera, and high culture more broadly remind us that excellence is not just about efficiency or problem-solving—it is about meaning, beauty, and shared experience. These are not luxuries. They may well prove to be the core of human flourishing in the age of artificial intelligence.

Trending: The nostalgic renaissance

In 2022, a song nearly four decades old suddenly became the soundtrack to millions of TikTok videos. Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill re-entered global charts after being featured in Netflix’s Stranger Things (Official Charts), reminding us that the past is never really gone—it only waits for the right moment to return. This was not an isolated moment. It was another sign of how nostalgia has become one of the most powerful forces in today’s media and communication landscape. From Y2K aesthetics on Gen Z’s Instagram feeds to the endless wave of Hollywood reboots, our collective past is being repackaged as one of the most reliable emotional triggers in modern storytelling.

For communication and marketing professionals, nostalgia is not just about aesthetic choices. It is about the way it shapes human behaviour. Psychologists note that nostalgia reduces stress, increases optimism, and strengthens social connection (APA). Social media platforms have turned this insight into product design. TikTok’s VHS filters, Instagram’s “On This Day” reminders, and Spotify’s time capsule playlists are not accidents—they are deliberate features that keep users engaged. This means nostalgia has moved from being a mood to being infrastructure, embedded in the way we share and consume media.

Traditionally, cultural nostalgia followed a predictable cycle: every twenty years styles and sounds would return, refreshed for a new generation. But in the digital age, that rhythm has collapsed. The 2020s see multiple eras trending simultaneously. TikTok’s For You feed can shift in seconds from 80s synth tracks to 90s sitcom aesthetics to Y2K party fashion. Much of this is what researchers call “borrowed nostalgia” or “fauxstalgia”: Gen Z embracing objects and symbols of times they never experienced. Wired headphones, disposable cameras, flip phones and even early internet interfaces are valued not for what they did, but for what they represent—an imagined authenticity that predates algorithmic feeds (Science Survey on Gen Z Y2K).

This shift matters deeply for communication strategy. Nostalgia no longer belongs only to those who remember. It has become a cultural language of belonging that spans generations. But it is also a language that can easily ring hollow. Heritage packaging, retro campaigns or superficial “throwback Thursdays” often fail because they signal costume rather than connection. Audiences today, especially Gen Z and Millennials, are highly attuned to whether nostalgia is meaningful or manipulative. They can sense the difference between a genuine bridge to shared values and a brand dressing itself in old clothes.

Nostalgia also carries responsibility. It is never neutral; it tells selective stories about the past, often ignoring who was excluded at the time. It can comfort, but it can also distort. For communicators the challenge is to use memory as context, not as decoration. Done well, nostalgia does not trap us in loops—it helps us move. It blends familiar cultural codes with today’s values, making space for conversations that feel both safe and new. This is what some call “neo-nostalgia”: re-using the past while adding inclusivity, sustainability and digital literacy as contemporary lenses (Dutch Design Agency on neo-nostalgia).

The practical question is simple: what does going back allow people to do next? If it only leads them to buy the same thing in the same way, nostalgia is a trap. If it helps them connect with others, articulate a longing, or imagine a better present, then it becomes a bridge. That is the difference between pastiche and progress.

At EPHOR Co. we believe communication should never exploit memory for its own sake. Nostalgia is one of many cultural signals that reveal what audiences need. Sometimes that need is comfort, sometimes it is authenticity, sometimes it is simply permission to pause. The role of a communicator is to translate those signals into stories and actions that build trust rather than weaken it.

Nostalgia will remain part of our cultural and digital fabric, enhanced by virality. It will keep surfacing in music, fashion, television and social feeds. The question is not whether to use it, but how. If you want to explore how nostalgia—and other undercurrents such as digitalisation, AI or generational change—are shaping your audiences, let’s talk.

📩 alex@ephor.io | 🌐 ephor.io

unsolicited advice: Pensions

When I worked at BlackRock, I learned two truths about money that have never left me.

The first was just how vast the Dutch investment market is — trillions in assets, complex strategies, a scale so large it makes “big finance” sound like a small phrase. The second was more personal: despite working at one of the most powerful investment firms on the planet, I had little interest in investing through my pension.

Like many people my age, my pension felt abstract, distant, and — more than anything — out of my control. Over the years, switching employers left me with pension entitlements scattered across five different funds. Each one sends me statements, but none of them make it easy to see the whole picture. It’s like trying to monitor your health with five separate fitness trackers, each with its own app and none talking to the others.

Meanwhile, the retail investment boom was everywhere. According to the AFM, the number of Dutch retail investors doubled between 2020 and 2023. Trading platforms like DEGIRO and BUX soared in activity. Social media filled with crypto wins, ETF “starter packs,” and day-trading bravado. By contrast, the €1.6 trillion sitting in Dutch pension funds was managed quietly by a handful of institutional managers — billions with your name on them, but not in your hands.

The Illusion of Control and the Distance Problem

On paper, that pension money belongs to you. In practice, your influence over it is about as direct as your influence over the weather. You can’t pick the stocks, the bonds, or the asset allocation. You can’t divest from an industry you dislike or double down on one you believe in.

Compare that to retail investing: you can put €100 into a green energy ETF by lunch and sell it for Bitcoin by dinner. The illusion of control is intoxicating, and in behavioral economics, perception often matters more than reality.

Rob Bauer, Professor of Finance at Maastricht University, put it plainly: “Pension funds invest on behalf of millions, but the connection between the owner of the capital and the investment decisions is almost completely broken.”

Psychology plays its part. Behavioral scientist Shlomo Benartzi once said: “Our future self is a stranger.” For a 25-year-old, the 67-year-old version of themselves is a fictional character. Why give money to a stranger? Retail investing sidesteps this entirely — it delivers instant feedback. Your portfolio moves, you feel something. You can act, and in acting, you feel in control. Pensions, by contrast, are slow, opaque, and emotionally flat.

The Societal Risk of Ignoring the Problem

The tragedy is that pensions are, by most measures, the best investment most people will ever make. Employer contributions are essentially free money, tax advantages amplify returns, and pooled risk shields you from catastrophic losses. Yet because they are invisible and inaccessible, they feel less “yours” than a volatile crypto trade.

This isn’t just a personal finance issue — it’s a systemic one. The Dutch pension system is among the strongest in the world, with assets worth roughly 200% of GDP. But it’s a collective promise: today’s workers fund today’s retirees, in exchange for the same security later. If younger cohorts disengage, contributions stagnate, and trust erodes, that promise weakens. Klaas Knot, President of De Nederlandsche Bank, warned in 2023: “The pension system can only remain robust if each generation maintains confidence in it. Without that trust, the foundation erodes from beneath.”

Too often, pension communication is treated as a compliance exercise rather than a trust-building mission. Campaigns are safe, bland, and designed to “raise awareness” without sparking action. Fiona Reynolds, former CEO of the Principles for Responsible Investment, said it best: “If people don’t understand where their pension is invested and why, you can’t expect them to value it — and you can’t expect them to defend it.”

Bringing Pensions Out of the Black Box

Fixing this doesn’t mean turning pensions into TikTok stocks. It means making them visible, tangible, and relevant. Real-time dashboards showing growth. A single account that follows you from job to job. Clear, accessible reporting on where the money is invested — and why. And framing pensions as “the safest, highest-return investment you’ll ever make,” because with employer contributions and tax benefits, that’s often true.

Your pension is already your biggest investment. The tragedy is that most people won’t realise that until it’s too late. And by then, the stranger they’ve been ignoring for decades — their future self — will be the one paying the price.

Summer reflections, pt. 2

That same mindset followed me into my Master’s dissertation – which looked at financial issue management, and how organisations can more effectively navigate and mitigate risks, especially during periods of uncertainty. I studied this through the lens of the 2008 financial crisis, interviewing more than a dozen senior communications leaders active at the time.

What I found was revealing. Most organisations were still operating with issue management models rooted in frameworks from the 60s, 70s, or perhaps the 90s at best. These models, while foundational, were often poorly suited to the information environment we live in now – especially the pace, volume, and volatility introduced by digital media.

So I developed something new. A more holistic system. One that accounts for the dynamics of the digital ecosystem – its speed, its unpredictability, and the way issues can emerge from anywhere. Unlike traditional frameworks, this approach enables real-time issue mapping across sectors, politics, competitors, and wider societal trends. It doesn’t just help you respond; it helps you anticipate, adjust, and ultimately shape the narrative.

And today, I still believe in that model. It’s evolved, but the principles are the same. That digital-first context isn’t just a feature – it’s fundamental. Most agencies and organisations still struggle to navigate it properly. They may claim to be digital, but few truly understand the triggers, signals, and nuances of the online space. We do.

Issue management is foundational. It helps you read the room before you enter it. It allows your comms strategy – whether in marketing, PR, or public affairs – to align more closely with your environment and stakeholders. It helps you not just manage risk, but recognise opportunity.

This thinking is also shaping what we’re building now: a platform called EnTool. It’s designed to make modern issue management accessible, intuitive, and actually useful. It’s still in development, but it’s coming. If you're curious, just drop me a message – I’m always happy to chat.

Because ultimately, issue management today isn’t about just defending a brand – it’s about building one. With intention. With intelligence. And with real-time context that only a digital-first mindset can deliver.

Summer reflections, pt. 1

Summer has a strange kind of rhythm. Things tend to slow down – the world gets quieter, inboxes emptier, and there's suddenly more room to think. I’ve been taking that space this season to look back a bit, especially at the past half year. Because while it feels like not much is happening in the moment, there’s actually a lot going on elsewhere. Especially in tech.

Technology doesn’t really do "summer mode". It keeps pushing forward at breakneck speed. In just the past six months, we’ve seen an avalanche of tools, capabilities, breakthroughs. This morning alone, I read that Figma is heading for its IPO – with a valuation of 16.6 billion. That’s a number so big it feels almost unreal. For the founders, it must be beyond anything they could’ve imagined.

And yet, we’ve seen this story before, haven’t we? Companies building something sleek and scalable, lifted up by the incredible momentum of AI. That’s the backdrop to almost everything in tech now: AI is the enabler, the driver, the one common denominator behind so many of these valuations. And some of it is, undoubtedly, impressive.

Still, I find myself feeling a bit... split. These are great tools – but are they really that great? I don’t love Figma. I don’t love Lovable. I do like Replit, I’ll admit – it just suits me better. But that’s the point: taste matters. Design matters. Fit matters. Not everything is for everyone.

There’s also a question of value. These tools can speed things up – writing, designing, coding – but are they actually making us better? Are we thinking more clearly, writing more meaningfully, creating with more intent? I’m not convinced. Speed is useful, but it’s not the same as quality. And just because something is faster doesn’t mean it’s better.

As H1 draws to a close and H2 begins to warm up, it’s the perfect moment to pause and take stock. Personally, I find myself circling back to my time at university. That’s where a lot of this started for me – the fascination with how tech could reshape communication. I was studying digital marketing, already wondering why our methods felt so outdated, even as new possibilities were everywhere.

When I wrote my bachelor’s dissertation, I was focused on programmatic advertising. Back then, it was still gaining traction, especially outside of digital-native spaces. I remember thinking: why aren’t we applying this in more innovative ways? Everything is digital now – so why are we still treating content like it’s static? Why not tailor ads based not just on who someone is, but how they’re watching? What time of day, what kind of show, what kind of mood?

It wasn’t about hyper-personalisation for its own sake. It was about flow. About experience. What if advertising didn’t interrupt the viewing experience, but integrated into it in a way that made sense? What if it was additive instead of disruptive?

These ideas still follow me. The tools may change, but the core challenge doesn’t: how do we use them to create things that are not just quicker, but better? How do we respect the person on the other side of the screen?

Intelligence, Communications, and Risk:

How Investors Can Protect Their ROI in foreign markets

Investing in businesses always involves uncertainty. However, smart investors understand that leveraging intelligence, mastering communications, and proactively managing risks significantly impacts their return on investment (ROI). Let's explore this critical connection using real-world cases from recent developments in the Netherlands.

Why intelligence matters

Good intelligence means staying ahead of potential issues by understanding the broader social, political, and economic context. For example, the recent investment by KKR in major Dutch festivals, including Zwarte Cross, led to significant backlash, public outrage, and ticket cancellations due to fears of excessive commercialization (BNR) - alongside defense investments in Israel.

Had KKR proactively gauged public and community sentiment before making their investment public, they could have better anticipated and managed this reaction, potentially avoiding reputational damage and safeguarding their investment. We’ve seen similar controversies leading the Amsterdam city council to go against Blackstone due to real-asset investments in the capital (Volkskrant).

Communications as a critical financial shield

Effective communication isn't merely about reputation management; it's directly tied to financial outcomes. Consider Hooghoudt's decision to leave Groningen, which created significant turmoil and negative publicity because of poorly managed communications. Employees and the local community felt blindsided, resulting in long-term reputational damage that could affect future sales and business relationships (RTV Noord).

Contrast this with ASML’s proactive communications in response to geopolitical tensions and restrictions (NOS). By clearly articulating the situation and their mitigation strategies early, ASML preserved investor confidence and minimised potential negative impacts.

Risk management as strategic opportunity

Effective risk management transforms potential threats into opportunities for strategic advantage. The nitrogen crisis impacting Dutch construction projects underscores this point clearly. Companies unprepared for new regulatory demands faced project delays, additional costs, and damaged reputations (NOS). On the other hand, investors who anticipated these regulatory changes and swiftly adapted their operations and strategies not only avoided losses but also positioned themselves as industry leaders in sustainable practices.

The integration of intelligence, communications, and risk

These examples clearly illustrate the interconnectedness of intelligence gathering, effective communication, and proactive risk management. Robust intelligence fuels precise communication; clear communication, in turn, mitigates risk, and effective risk management enhances intelligence capabilities. Investors who embrace this integrated approach significantly increase their potential ROI.

In the dynamic and often unpredictable business environment of the Netherlands, intelligent investing goes beyond traditional financial metrics. It demands a comprehensive, strategic, and proactive approach that blends insight, communication clarity, and risk agility.

What can you do?

• Regularly perform sentiment analysis and stakeholder research to identify potential issues early and manage them proactively.

• Develop and implement comprehensive communications plans for all significant business decisions, ensuring transparency and timely engagement with stakeholders.

• Regularly assess emerging regulatory, environmental, and political risks. Integrate risk management into strategic planning to proactively adapt to new realities.

How can we help?

We offer expertise in intelligence analysis, communications strategy, and comprehensive risk management to help you navigate complex challenges and protect and enhance your investments.

Reach out to explore how we can support your strategic objectives and safeguard your ROI.