A different economic outlook

Stay informed with free updates

During the past couple of weeks I think I’ve paid more attention to global financial news than ever before. Regardless of the varying degrees to which any of us are, and will be, directly affected by the US tariffs, it has been almost impossible to ignore the headlines. I’ve had conversations with friends in France, Germany and here in the US, during which we have all expressed concern about the economic outlook.

It’s not an area in which I have any expertise but I’ve found myself thinking about trade and resources, and what it could look like to imagine that there are different economic landscapes, aside from the purely financial, that shape our daily life. It has led me to reconsider not just what makes life sustainable but also what might make life good.


“The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes” is a 16th-century depiction of the famous Bible story by Flemish painter Lambert Lombard, housed in the Snijders&Rockox House Museum in Antwerp. The tale of Jesus feeding a crowd with five loaves of bread and two fish is the only narrative, aside from the resurrection, that appears in all four of the New Testament gospels. In the story, Jesus is concerned that the people must be hungry. The disciples want to send them away to find their own food but Jesus instructs them to feed the crowd. The disciples, depending on the gospel, reply that they have nothing, or not enough for everyone. Lombard’s painting shows that instead of listening to these complaints, Jesus blesses what they do have and asks the disciples to share it among the people. There ends up being more than enough food.

Lombard’s painting is rich with activity and detail that suggests this is a diverse crowd from different walks of life. Some people are wearing pointed caps, some are wearing turbans, and on the right-hand side of the work we can see a figure with darker skin. People sit in clusters around the canvas as the disciples offer them food.

I’ve always loved the story of the loaves and fishes because it suggests that how we think about our resources is connected to whether or not we believe in an economy of abundance, in which we can extend hospitality to everyone, or an economy of scarcity, which breeds competition and in which everyone has to fend for themselves. For me, the two most significant aspects of the story shown in this work are the act of Jesus acknowledging then giving thanks for the food, for what they already have, and the disciples sharing it among the people and trusting there will be enough. I wonder if the “miracle” is perhaps as much about a shifted imagination as divine provision. Lombard includes several empty baskets in the foreground of the painting, perhaps to show that there will be leftovers. The blessing and sharing of resources seem to lead to there being more than enough. But they had to first stop and acknowledge what they already possessed among themselves.


Herbert Draper was an English neoclassicist painter who produced works from the late 19th century into the 20th century. His 1897 painting “Pot Pourri” reminds me that life’s richness is in part determined by how we spend our resources of time, what we consider time-worthy, and how willing we are to be present. It is a quiet portrait of a young red-haired woman sitting alone beside a table with her back to the viewer. In her lap she holds a silver pan into which she drops pink rose petals. The table has three piles of richly coloured red, pink, white and cream roses. The woman is making pot pourri, a time-consuming process that would take weeks if not months to prepare, but there is nothing in the painting to suggest any sense of rush. She works alone, seemingly oblivious to us and the outside world.

Herbert Draper’s ‘Pot Pourri’ (1897) © Alamy

For many of us, time is as valuable as money, and like money we can decide how we spend it, even if we ultimately have little control over how much of it we have. When we use the term “time is money” what we are saying is that time is too valuable to be wasted and, by extension, that we hope to get as much productivity out of time as we possibly can. But perhaps we should be inspired to spend time in ways that nourish us more deeply, which might naturally require more patience from us, without the constant fear of running out of time. We might focus on time, not just as a way to maintain financial security, necessary as that is, but also as a way towards making life rich in beauty.


The Spanish painter and printmaker Francisco Goya created works that spoke to the social and political upheavals of Europe in the 18th and 19th century. A celebrated court artist, he painted “Self-Portrait with Dr Arrieta” in 1820 when he was around 74 years old as an expression of gratitude. Eugenio García Arrieta was a doctor who healed Goya through an illness. In the painting a pale, almost lifeless Goya sits up in bed and leans against Dr Arrieta for support. His left hand clutches at the sheet as if in pain, his head is tilted to the side and his eyes are barely open as the doctor holds him up and tries to give him something to drink. We can see the contrast between health and illness in the faces positioned side by side. The red blanket further emphasises Goya’s drained complexion. Behind both men a blur of indistinguishable faces appear like ghosts. And yet the doctor’s gentle grip seems a sign of his determination to nurse the sick man back to health. After Goya recovered and had painted the work he presented it as a gift to the doctor.

A painting of two men, one man is in a bed and another man is behind him with a glass of liquid in his hand
Francisco Goya’s ‘Self-Portrait with Dr Arrieta’ (1820) © Alamy

Looking at this work makes me think about care as a resource. The care economy is a recognised sector that focuses on the work, paid and unpaid, that takes place in domestic, institutional and medical settings. But the humanity and tenderness shown in Goya’s work reminds me that we are all in some way part of a care economy because we all have the capacity to show compassion to other people, and to support broader systems of care for people who need it.

Perhaps, if we permit ourselves to imagine an economy of abundance, in which we trade in currencies of hospitality, patience and care, even as we struggle within an unpredictable financial economy, we will discover experiences that add richness to our lives.

[email protected]

Find out about our latest stories first — follow FT Weekend on Instagram and X, and sign up to receive the FT Weekend newsletter every Saturday morning

Leave a Comment