Edition 33: Notes from the dark side of the Moon
On not doing this alone with Group Of Humans, Writer, Duncan Madden
A few weeks ago, as the Artemis crew was sailing past the dark side of the moon, I wrote a note to myself about how the humanity of the expedition shone through. About how much emphasis was being put on what it felt like for individual humans to see something for the first time rather than simply seeing it as another accomplishment for humanity – and how that made me feel.

I posted my musings on the Group Of Humans #inspiration Slack channel for no reason other than that I could – and that it might resonate or at least raise a smile with some of the Tribe in our One Step Further initiative helping define the new lunar economy. The community response was heartwarming and affirming – the similar and contrasting observations of other Humans, links to things they’d also written on the subject, lovely comments about my sentiment.
It made me reflect and wonder, where else do I have an outlet for such things? Where else do I have a ready-made creative community (most of whom I’ve not met in person) I feel confident enough to share my musings with, without commission or consequence, and that are engaged enough to respond and do the same thing back, en masse? The answer, simply enough, was nowhere.
The power and insight of community in all its manifestations is not to be underestimated – especially now.
I’ve known and worked with Group Of Humans founder Rob Noble for a long time, from building things with mutual clients like Vodafone to shaping the voice of his former agency, Great Fridays. When he invited me to join Group Of Humans in its fledgling days of 2019, his vision was compelling but fantastically optimistic. Not an agency with all the bullshit and baggage that brings, but a distributed global collective bound by a shared purpose and approach – the logical next step in the evolution of work.
We choose what the work is, what impact it has, how we go about it, who we work with, and the really big one: why we do it. Imagine, he said, if things were better. It was a hell of a pitch.
In those intervening seven years the GOH model has proven robust. It’s developed and adapted to deal with the biggest geopolitical and technological upheavals many of us have ever witnessed, from the chaos of political instability to the flood of AI and the far-reaching impact both have had on the work landscape. Not to mention a global pandemic.
For me as a freelance writer, its role has been multifaceted and increasingly vital. I haven’t had to handle these world-changing events alone, both in terms of project work and their wider creative, social, political and personal impact.
That project work has been varied, challenging and rewarding. More than once it has come as a lifeline when solo projects were thin on the ground and regular clients were tightening belts or leaning a little too quick and far into AI as a replacement for writers. (It’s not you, it’s me, etc, etc.) Having the scale and gravitas of the Humans to support me, with the kind of projects any of us can bring to the table, has offered a measure of stability in the hardest years of my two-decade freelance career.
Imaginations and perspectives borne from wildly diverse experiences drive ideas forward, unrestrained by hierarchies and what-ifs.
Collaborating with Humans around the world I’ve seen how the freedom and structure of GOH’s model allows creativity to bloom – projects taking creative directions I would never have imagined, outcomes that have resonated deeply both with clients and the Humans that created them, inevitable problems and obstacles navigated respectfully but efficiently.
Where I’m naturally prone to leaning into my creative impulses and mood swings, the ideas and impetuses of other Humans have compelled me to move forwards, to learn and expand when I may have naturally settled for a less challenging route. I’ve learned better habits.
Even more, the work I’ve done for GOH and with the Humans has changed how I think about and see the world. For this very substack, I’ve interviewed pioneering astronauts like Terry Virts, technological geniuses like Josh Klein, rock Gods like Kevin Godley, and in Dilly Gent someone who shaped much of the music that has shaped much of my life.
Writing for the GOH website, I remember my first call with creative genius Stefan Boubill where his brief was along the lines of, “The most important thing about this project is that you’re proud of it – that it’s something you want to show clients and friends. You’ve got to love it.” It was undeniable. I bought into his way of thinking in the blink of an eye. And I’m very proud of the outcome.
These are the kind of people I want to work with. But also the kind of people I want to bounce ideas off, learn from, debate with, talk to.
Nothing is static or a given. Humans come and go from the community as circumstances change, but that’s the point. New voices, untapped perspectives, no one truly alone. Even, as I found out, with something as simple as posting a spontaneous note to Slack – a musing I shared because I felt the freedom to, met by a community that wants to listen and engage.


