The hidden force that keeps people, businesses, and societies from stepping into the future.

I’ve sat across from prisoners just sentenced, watched the life drain out of them as the walls closed in—physical walls, yes, but mental ones even more so.

They couldn’t see the future.
They didn’t want to.
They had no control over it now.

The past was gone—burnt up in a mistake or bad choice. The present was confined. And the future? Unimaginable.

Those were the men I worried about most. Not because they were broken, but because they’d lost the ability—or maybe the permission—to believe in what comes next. They did their time hard. And the world, even inside, moved past them.

That same look?

I now see it in boardrooms. In strategy sessions. In coaching calls. On the faces of founders, executives, and even everyday people staring down a rapidly changing world that feels foreign and cold.

What Is PTFA?

PTFA stands for Past Trauma, Future Anxiety.

It’s the undercurrent I’ve been observing across 40 years of foresight, strategic consulting, and crisis counselling. And it’s one of the main reasons people—and the companies and systems they lead—struggle to engage with what’s coming next.

They’re stuck between:

• The trauma or nostalgia of what was, and

• The overwhelm and ambiguity of what might be

So instead of moving forward, they anchor themselves to the now—or worse, double down on the past. Not because the future is bad. But because it’s unknown. And that triggers every instinct we have for control, safety, and predictability.

The Many Faces of PTFA

The Inmate (Literal or Not)

“If I can’t control what’s ahead, why even try?”

Back in my prison chaplain days, I learned quickly: if a new inmate couldn’t see a path forward, they’d fold in on themselves. They became bitter, resistant, or numb. Those who held on to some idea of future—study, visitors, a job post-release—did better. Not great. But better.

Many people I speak to today feel the same way. They might not be behind bars, but they’re trapped in systems or mindsets that feel equally restrictive. AI, automation, climate change, shifting roles, new values… it’s too much. So they shut down.

The Expert Who Can’t Unlearn

“My knowledge used to be power. Now it’s a weight I carry.”

I worked with a brilliant executive once—sharp, experienced, respected. But as I described future possibilities, she became visibly agitated. Her credentials were in systems that were becoming obsolete. Her pride was in models that were dissolving.

Instead of imagining new relevance, she fought the need for change.
Her expertise had become her prison.

The Strategist Who Needs a Map

“Tell me what the future looks like so I can plan it, control it, master it.”

Some clients try to out-think the future.
They want certainty. Timelines. Probabilities.
And when they realise we’re playing jazz, not classical—they freeze.

PTFA kicks in when the rules disappear. And in a world where ambiguity is the new norm, I see more people clinging to old certainty like a security blanket soaked in petrol. One spark and it all burns.

The Neuroscience Behind It

Turns out, it’s not just emotional. It’s neurological.

Trauma—whether clinical or not—alters how the brain works.
Studies from Harvard and Oxford show that people with trauma have reduced activity in the part of the brain responsible for imagination, time projection, and planning. The same part that helps us picture “what’s next.”

If the past hurt, and the future feels like fog, we stop imagining at all.
We hunker down in the now. And we stay stuck.

In business? That looks like innovation fatigue, fear of AI, the re-emergence of nostalgia marketing, or total strategy paralysis.

Are You Stuck in PTFA?

Here’s a quick gut-check:

• Do you feel like the future is happening to you, not with you?

• Do future changes make you anxious, confused, or even angry?

• Do you often talk about “the good old days” more than what’s next?

• Do you shut down or change the subject when someone brings up AI, climate, or generational change?

• Do you believe your best days are behind you?

• Are you still working from a worldview that no longer fits?

• Do you feel like your relevance is fading?

If you said yes to more than one—you’re not alone. That’s PTFA at play. It’s not fatal. But it is fixable.

So What Can You Do?

You don’t need a ten-step recovery program.
You need a shift in stance—less defence, more discovery.

Name It. Own It.

Call out what’s happening in your head, in your team, in your org. Most people are feeling this. When you name it, you shrink it.

Decouple Past Identity from Future Possibility

You are not one thing. You never were.

You’re not just a job title. Or a skillset. Or a role you’ve played for years.
You’re a dynamic, evolving mix of experience, values, instincts, and dreams—and who you are shifts depending on the context you’re in, the people around you, and the world you’re navigating.

The past gave you chapters, not a label.

And the future? It’s not asking you to erase yourself. It’s inviting you to uncover new versions of yourself you haven’t met yet—versions you might love, respect, or even be surprised by. You don’t need to know what they look like yet. Or when they’ll arrive. Or how they’ll emerge. You just need to be willing to look.

This is permission to explore, not pressure to perform.
You don’t have to be certain. You just have to be open.

Get Curious, Not Certain

Certainty is a comfort blanket. Curiosity is a jetpack.

Ask better questions:
What if…? How might we…? What do I need to learn next?

Make Small Bets

Try things. Test things. Shift slowly.
Relevance is a muscle, not a mantra. Stretch it daily.

Bring Others In

Futures are built in conversation. In community. Not in silence.
Speak up. Share the doubt. Find people who are walking forward too.

Why This Matters—Now

If we don’t name and tame PTFA, we’ll watch a world of capability get suffocated by fear.

Smart people will stay silent.
Great ideas will stall.
Whole sectors will keep polishing old systems instead of building new ones.

Because preparing for the future isn’t about being perfect.
It’s not about having a plan locked in.
It’s about movement. Curiosity.

It’s about giving yourself—and others—permission to explore, not pressure to perform.

The Real Truth?

You’re not broken.
You’re just trying to protect yourself from pain.

But what if the future isn’t pain?
What if it’s possibility?

And what if the person you’ll become next is someone you’ll really want to meet?

Let’s go find out.