When we save the world, through metrics, and regimentation of others, what do we and they become in the process? I have a new friend, age nine, Tutor's Tutee. She lives lone with her mother in a huge castle, alone unless you include the hired help, like Tutor. Her name is Audrey. What Tutor tells her is that she must save the world before she reaches age 10 or so, because then she will become a Stupid Grownup, and when grownups try to save the world, they become monsters, acting out. They try to fix the world as they try to fix Audrey, and that only makes things ever so much worse, as Audrey well knows. "Only the kids can save us," Tutor tells her at nap time and story time, "but only if they never ever grow up." He makes her promise that she will never grow up, or if she does, that she stay alive in the big person she is doomed to become. Bill Schambra says it differently, in this review of The Philanthropic Revolution, but he is of this visionary company. A warrior in the world, but the kind of man who could put Audrey to bed with tale from the Brothers Grimm, telling her the necessary truths of our fallen world. Far better reading for her than Joseph Campbell, a Ted Talk, or some of the usual BS about the Quest, or the Journey. We are going nowhere. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Rags to riches to rags. The seasons go in circles. So does Fortune's Wheel. We are as saved as we can be, right now, between two beats of a sleeping child' heart.