Effective altruism matters because it's the future of transforming good intentions into real and impactful outcomes. 

When organizations commit to working in a way that maximizes and optimizes impact, they are positioned to help the most people and ensure that every effort—whether a dollar donated or an hour volunteered—achieves its greatest potential.

This not only means more lives improved or suffering reduced, but it also makes organizations more strategic, adaptable, and transparent. 

In turn, this clarity of impact makes organizations far more compelling to funders, who want to see real and measurable change—ensuring an efficient and effective cycle of doing good... better.

A Schelling Point is:

The world is coming apart all around us. You know it. I know it. And we all know that we need to regroup… somewhere, somehow.

Like a platoon of soldiers in the midst of combat, suddenly separated from one another. They know they must come back together—but where? Each soldier reasons out the most likely place to find his comrades, then sets out on the journey to restore what was lost. The order that comes from what feels normal. What feels right.

A journey back to the last known state of equilibrium.

Because that’s what we do as humans. When things spiral out of control, we look for the last place that felt stable. Safe. Familiar.

This is the situation we’re in now. We’ve been separated from what once felt normal and steady. We’re in the midst of chaos, and all we want is a way back. Back to the place where life made sense.

The problem is that we no longer have a clear direction. We know we’re lost. We know we must come back together. But where? And how?

That’s the question.

And in moments like this, all we can do is return to what we know to be fundamentally true about humanity.

When humans are in crisis, they come together. We see it after natural disasters. People risk their own safety to help one another. Not for glory. Not for gain. They do it because that is our default setting.

The fundamental human state is goodness, love, care, and compassion.

That is our natural rendezvous point.

That is our current Schelling Point.

I’ll see you there.

KommunityKoin is built on a simple premise: reputation matters.

Long before money, contracts, or institutions, communities ran on trust. People knew who showed up, who could be counted on, who quietly kept things working. That reputation wasn’t written down, but it was remembered; and it shaped who was trusted, helped, and invited into collaboration.

KommunityKoin exists to make that invisible economy visible again.

At its core, the idea recognizes meaningful contribution; acts of service, shared skills, care for others, and work that strengthens a community. Each contribution adds to a person’s social capital, creating a living record of reliability, generosity, and impact. Not as a score to chase, but as a reputation earned over time.

This isn’t about money. It’s about credibility.

In healthy communities, people don’t step up because they’re paid; they step up because they belong, because they care, because trust flows both ways. KommunityKoin captures that dynamic by treating community reputation as something real; something that can be acknowledged, remembered, and built upon.

Instead of rewarding wealth or status, it recognizes impact. The neighbor who organizes. The volunteer who shows up consistently. The person who shares a skill without being asked. These contributions are the true infrastructure of community life, yet they often go unseen.

Until now.

By making contribution visible, KommunityKoin helps communities recognize their quiet backbone — the people who fix what’s broken, check in on others, and keep things from falling apart. Over time, that visibility opens doors: to connection, collaboration, and shared opportunity. Not because someone demanded it, but because trust naturally attracts trust.

This is how real economies have always worked.

The more you give, the more your community knows who you are. The more your reputation grows, the more others are willing to invest their time, energy, and care alongside you. It’s not transactional. It’s relational.

Our world is obsessed with consumption and monetary gain, but KommunityKoin is a reminder that contribution still matters.

Money may keep the lights on. But reputation is what keeps the world turning.

There’s this legend of an old Chinese curse that says…

Although, it’s actually an early 20th century legend from the English-speaking world — but it’s equally powerful anyway. What it means is this:

May your life be dramatic, turbulent, and historically notable—rather than quiet, stable, and mundane.

And then I heard something similar at the end of a podcast last night where the guy quoted The Fellowship of the Ring movie. I don’t remember the exact words, but here’s the essence of the conversation:

Frodo says something like:

He wishes the Ring had never come to him, and that he didn’t have to live in such dark and dangerous times.

Gandalf replies, gently but firmly:

Many people wish that. But we don’t get to choose the times we’re born into. All we can decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

So, it looks as though we have been cursed to live in interesting times and, I for one, identify with Frodo on the subject - I would much prefer not to. But, following Gandolf’s advice is all we can do.

... decide what to do with the time that is given to us.

Today I was volunteering at a community free clinic that was being held in a Boy Scout lodge on the grounds of a Methodist church. It’s a nice little place, lots of wood and inspirational mementos.

As the community resource advocate, I spend time there each month talking with folks about food assistance, housing, healthcare; all the little things that hold life together but always seem to be in short supply.

On the wall, next to the front door, I noticed a list of life principles. It was attributed to some Native American tribe or other; though honestly, I don’t know if the source was accurate. But the words themselves were powerful enough to stop me. They were simple, timeless, and true enough to make you wonder why we ever complicated life so much.

They went like this:

Eight short sentences. That’s it. No legal fine print, no “terms and conditions may apply.” Just eight clear ways to be a decent human being.

And I couldn’t help but think: if everyone lived by these, this would be an amazing world to live in. A world where people didn’t argue over who deserves help, where truth wasn’t negotiable, and kindness wasn’t rationed, leveraged, or sold. A world where taking responsibility wasn’t an act of courage but just something that people did.

Of course, I doubt it’s possible. Humans are complicated. We invent problems out of thin air and justify our selfishness with impressive creativity. But still, wouldn’t it be nice?

Maybe that’s why those words were there, hanging quietly on a lodge wall, waiting for someone to notice. Not necessarily to guilt us, but to remind those young minds that goodness is a part of being human. And it doesn’t require any sort of extravagant training or education. It just requires remembering. Remembering that we belong to each other, that the Earth isn’t ours to exploit, and that truth and kindness are worth more than cleverness or heartless gain.

Eight simple rules. Maybe that’s all civilization really needs; though we keep adding amendments and escape clauses. Still, I like to think that in small places like that clinic, where people show up to help strangers just because it’s the right thing to do, the spirit of those words is still alive.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it spread.