What Is Futures Literacy, Really?

 

When people first hear the phrase futures literacy, the usual assumption is that it has something to do with prediction, as if it were a sophisticated form of fortune-telling. The idea that we might somehow forecast the world ten or twenty years down the line with pinpoint accuracy has a powerful appeal. It promises certainty in a world that often feels unstable and confusing. Yet this is exactly the myth that futures literacy seeks to unravel. It is not about being able to predict the next big job, invention, or crisis. Instead, it is about changing the way we think about the future altogether.

At its heart, futures literacy is a skill, much like reading or writing. UNESCO describes it as the ability to “imagine the future and use it to act in the present.” This means learning to see the future not as a single, inevitable path but as a field of many possibilities. We might picture it as a landscape full of different trails, each winding toward a different horizon. Futures literacy equips us to recognize those trails, question why we gravitate toward some and ignore others, and experiment with exploring multiple directions at once.

The myth of prediction is powerful because it makes us feel safe. If we believe the future can be pinned down, then all we need is the right forecast and we can prepare accordingly. But the world does not work that way. Economic shocks, technological leaps, pandemics, social movements, and unexpected discoveries constantly surprise us. No algorithm or expert can reliably anticipate all the twists ahead. What futures literacy offers instead is a way to live with uncertainty without being paralyzed by it. By practicing imagination, we can expand the range of futures we consider, challenge our blind spots, and prepare for change in ways prediction alone never allows.

Imagination in this sense is not idle daydreaming. It is disciplined, creative work. It asks us to consider “what if” questions and play them out. What if cities designed streets for children instead of cars? What if artificial intelligence was governed by communities rather than corporations? What if climate change forced entire industries to reinvent themselves? Each question opens a window into a different possible world. By exploring these scenarios, we become more agile, more innovative, and more capable of shaping outcomes we value rather than being swept along by whatever happens.

Busting the myth of prediction also means recognizing the power dynamics involved. Too often, predictions are presented as authoritative and unquestionable, whether by experts, governments, or corporations. Futures literacy pushes us to ask who benefits from these predictions, whose voices are excluded, and what alternative futures might be hidden. By engaging imagination, communities can reclaim their agency. They can see themselves not as passive recipients of whatever the future delivers, but as active participants in shaping it.

When understood in this way, futures literacy becomes not just a skill for policymakers or academics, but a practical tool for everyday life. A teacher can use it to reimagine how education might look in ten years, rather than assuming today’s classroom is fixed. A parent can use it to think about the world their children may grow up in, considering values as well as technologies. A business owner can use it to test strategies against multiple futures, reducing the risk of being blindsided. Each act of imagination makes the present more informed and more resilient.

So what is futures literacy, really? It is the practice of loosening our grip on prediction and tightening our embrace of imagination. It is not about knowing what will happen, but about broadening our capacity to think about what could happen, why we imagine it that way, and how we might act differently as a result. The myth of prediction limits us to a narrow path; the practice of imagination opens a whole landscape. And in that openness, we discover not only better ways to face uncertainty, but also richer possibilities for creating the futures we truly want.

Which Jobs Will Disappear In 10 Years Time

 

When people ask me if futures literacy can predict which jobs will vanish in the next ten years, I usually smile. It’s a natural question, but also one that shows how much we want certainty in a world that refuses to give it. Futures literacy isn’t about crystal balls or neat lists of doomed professions. It’s about learning how to see the future differently, as a range of possibilities rather than one fixed road. And when it comes to work, that shift in perspective makes all the difference.

Think about it—ten years ago, who would have guessed that being a “content creator” or an “AI prompt engineer” would even be jobs? At the same time, many roles we thought were safe have been reshaped or even made redundant by automation and changing habits. If I tried to hand you a definitive list of which jobs will disappear by 2035, I’d be pretending to know the unknowable. What I can do, through the lens of futures literacy, is help you notice the signals, ask better questions, and imagine different scenarios.

Maybe data entry clerks, cashiers, or telemarketers will fade as machines handle those repetitive tasks. But will teachers vanish? Probably not—they might just work alongside AI tutors instead of against them. Will doctors be replaced by diagnostic software? Not likely—they’ll still be there for the human side of healing, which no machine can replicate. Even lawyers might find their roles shifting, spending less time buried in paperwork and more time negotiating, interpreting, or advocating. The truth is that jobs rarely vanish overnight; they evolve, and futures literacy prepares us to expect that.

What excites me most is how new roles keep surfacing. Green energy experts, AI ethicists, care workers in an aging world—these are areas opening up right in front of us. And if we’re futures literate, we don’t just watch them happen, we start building pathways toward them. That’s the power of seeing the future as a resource: we can shape our education, our policies, even our personal choices, in ways that open more doors instead of closing them.

So no, futures literacy won’t tell you exactly which jobs will disappear. But it will help you live with uncertainty in a way that feels less frightening and more creative. It asks us to use the future not for prediction, but for preparation. When we do that, even if some roles fade away, we’re ready to adapt, ready to grow, and maybe even ready to invent the jobs no one has dreamed of yet.

Denmark’s Quiet Powerhouse: How a Small Country Built Big Foresight Literacy

 

When people talk about countries leading in futures literacy, Denmark might not be the loudest voice in the room, but it has quietly become one of the most influential. Its approach blends long-standing institutions, citizen participation, design-driven methods, and academic research into a culture where thinking about the future feels natural rather than exotic.

The story begins in 1969 with the Copenhagen Institute for Futures Studies, one of the world’s oldest and most respected foresight think tanks. For more than five decades it has advised governments, businesses, and international organisations while also pushing futures thinking into public spaces, classrooms, and boardrooms. Its simple framing—that futures literacy is about helping people imagine, work with, and shape possible futures—has given Denmark a foundation that is both rigorous and accessible.

At the same time, Denmark pioneered one of the most powerful models for public participation in future-oriented decision-making: the consensus conference. Developed in the 1980s by the Danish Board of Technology, this format invited everyday citizens to sit face-to-face with experts, debate complex issues like biotechnology or data privacy, and deliver recommendations that could guide Parliament. It became a global reference for participatory technology assessment and gave ordinary people a real role in exploring possible futures.

Another layer of Denmark’s approach comes from its design culture. Organisations like the Danish Design Center have taken abstract futures and translated them into experiences—scenarios turned into prototypes, stories turned into workshops, strategies tested through speculative design. Instead of simply reading about possible futures, policymakers and companies can touch, test, and rehearse them. This ability to make the intangible tangible has been one of Denmark’s most distinctive contributions to foresight literacy.

For many years, the Danish government also ran MindLab, an innovation unit where civil servants worked alongside citizens and businesses to rethink public services. Using design methods and forward-looking exploration, MindLab normalised the idea that futures work and human-centred design could shape policy. Even after its closure in 2018, the influence of MindLab spread across Danish administration and inspired governments worldwide to set up similar labs.

More recently, Denmark has brought futures literacy into academia at the highest level. Aarhus University, together with the Copenhagen Institute for Futures Studies, was awarded the UNESCO Chair in Anticipatory Leadership and Futures Capabilities in 2022. This signaled that foresight literacy was not just a professional tool but a scholarly discipline, with research, teaching, and leadership training all dedicated to making anticipation a core competence.

Education has also been a focus. The Copenhagen Institute for Futures Studies leads Denmark’s participation in the Teach the Future network, creating curricula and workshops that give pupils and teachers the chance to practise futures thinking early. On a Nordic scale, Denmark is part of FLiTaPE, a collaboration to embed futures literacy into teacher and professional education so that classrooms of the future will cultivate imagination and agency by default.

What emerges from all this is not a single grand policy or a one-off initiative, but an ecosystem. Denmark has a permanent institute advancing foresight, participatory models that bring citizens into the conversation, design organisations that turn ideas into experiences, public-sector experiments that embed futures into policymaking, and a UNESCO Chair that ensures the next generation of leaders and teachers will see futures literacy as a natural part of their toolkit. For a small country, this combination makes Denmark a quiet powerhouse. It shows that leading in foresight literacy is less about headline projects and more about building a culture where imagining the future becomes part of how society works.

How Singapore Is Leading the Way in Foresight Literacy

 

If there is one country that shows what it means to weave futures literacy into everyday governance, it is Singapore. Over three decades, the city-state has built a full ecosystem that constantly scans for weak signals, stress-tests policies against multiple scenarios, and trains its public officers to think long term. At the heart of this work is the Centre for Strategic Futures (CSF), located within the Prime Minister’s Office Strategy Group, whose mission is to prepare the public service for a rapidly changing world.

Singapore’s journey began in the early 1990s, when it adopted Shell-style scenario planning. By 1993 the government had formally embraced it for long-term policy work, even sending civil servants to train with Shell’s Group Planning team and join the Global Business Network to learn the craft. What began as experiments in one corner of government grew into a system that now spans across ministries. In 2009, CSF was established, and since 2015 it has sat within the PMO’s Strategy Group, coordinating a whole-of-government foresight effort. Today, many agencies run their own domain-specific foresight teams, with CSF acting as a hub that connects, trains, and spreads good practice.

The methods have also evolved. Classic scenario planning remains important, but Singapore added a wider toolkit, branded Scenario Planning Plus (SP+), which incorporates weak-signal detection and “black swan” analysis to cope with discontinuous change. These approaches are designed not just to create reports but to inform real strategy. Alongside this, capability building is deeply institutionalised. Futures training is part of milestone programmes at the Civil Service College, while CSF itself runs practical “FutureCraft” courses. Every two years CSF publishes Foresight, a report that synthesises megatrends and methodologies for the broader community.

Leadership commitment has ensured foresight is not peripheral. A Strategic Futures Network brings senior officials from across ministries together to compare notes, test assumptions, and align on priorities. CSF also deliberately engages beyond government, meeting hundreds of thought leaders every year and running curated dialogues so that fresh perspectives flow into policymaking. The commitment to sense-making also extends into national security. After lessons from SARS in 2003, Singapore developed the Risk Assessment and Horizon Scanning (RAHS) system under the National Security Coordination Secretariat in the PMO. RAHS, formally established in 2007, combines processes, technology, and analyst expertise to anticipate complex risks. Together with CSF’s socio-economic foresight, it ensures Singapore covers both security threats and long-range transformations.

Outputs from this ecosystem are not kept behind closed doors. Tools such as scenario sets, driving-forces cards, and reflective method pieces are shared publicly, reinforcing learning across agencies and with partners. Observers such as the OECD highlight Singapore as a benchmark for “anticipatory innovation governance,” noting that it has embedded foresight into structures, routines, and decision-making in ways few countries manage. There are also debates, especially around RAHS and the use of data, where concerns about privacy and trade-offs are openly discussed. This, too, is part of a mature foresight culture—balancing preparedness with public trust.

What makes Singapore stand out is not a single tool or office but the fact that foresight has become a habit of governance. Leaders demand long-term views, officers are trained to generate them, methods are continually refined, and institutions are in place to act on insights. In Singapore, foresight literacy is not a buzzword. It is the quiet discipline of preparing a small nation for a turbulent world, and it has become one of its distinctive strengths.

The UAE’s Playbook for Futures Literacy—From Vision to Daily Practice

If you want to see futures literacy operating not as a side project but as the operating system of government, study the United Arab Emirates. In 2016, the UAE launched the UAE Strategy for the Future, a whole-of-government roadmap that made future-readiness a mandatory part of how ministries work. It spelled out sector prototypes, scenario reports, capacity building, and—crucially—required every federal entity to appoint a Director of the UAE Strategy for the Future to drive the agenda. That structural move turned foresight from “nice to have” into job descriptions and performance indicators.

To back the strategy with process and infrastructure, the government created a formal Future Foresight Strategy and a national UAE Future Foresight Platform, a digital hub for tools, training, and knowledge-sharing that embeds foresight into planning cycles. The UAE also partnered with the World Economic Forum to host multiple editions of the Annual Meeting of the Global Future Councils, ensuring that global expert networks feed directly into domestic policy sense-making.

Institutionally, futures literacy is championed from the center. The Government Development & the Future Office, led by Minister of State Ohood bint Khalfan Al Roumi, is tasked with boosting agility, building new government models, and scaling future skills across the civil service—essentially, keeping the system future-fit rather than running one-off exercises.

On the experimentation front, the UAE set up the Ministry of Possibilities, a virtual, time-bound ministry that incubates teams to tackle “impossible” cross-government problems with design, rapid prototyping, and citizen co-creation. It’s an explicit policy lab for leapfrog solutions and a cultural signal that ambiguity and iteration are expected, not exceptional.

Dubai has built a public-facing ecosystem that turns foresight into a social capability. The Dubai Future Foundation (DFF) runs the Dubai Future Forum—billed as the world’s largest gathering of futurists—at the Museum of the Future, convening hundreds of thinkers to stress-test assumptions and swap methods. DFF’s Dubai Future Academy delivers open courses like “Foundations of Foresight” and multi-day programmes on scanning, scenarios, and road-mapping, so foresight becomes a skill people practise, not just read about.

Importantly, the UAE links its national push to global capability building. In 2020, DFF and UNESCO announced a Futures Literacy Hub in Dubai to scale UNESCO’s participatory futures methods—Futures Literacy Laboratories—across regions. That partnership anchors the UAE’s local investments inside a recognized international framework for teaching people how to “use the future” to see the present anew.

Put together, this is what leadership in futures literacy looks like: a national strategy that rewires roles and routines; platforms and training that make practice repeatable; experimental structures that reward learning; and international linkages that keep methods current. In the UAE, foresight isn’t a report—it’s a muscle the state and society are actively building.