On 22 June 2026 the world learned that Alan Greenspan, who guided the Federal Reserve for nearly twenty‑five years, had taken his last breath at age 100. He was famed for his calm voice that steadied markets, yet his tenure also set the stage for three major economic crashes that rippled across the globe and reverberated with sharp consequences for indigenous peoples in the United States.

Greenspan’s policies of low‑interest rates, designed to keep borrowing cheap, helped finance the boom of the 1990s and 2000s. The ease of credit, while fostering consumer confidence and technological delivery, opened the door for high‑yield real‑estate investments and unchecked resource extraction. For many reservations, this translated into the sale of land to private corporations, exploitation of mineral resources, and the spread of sinkholes that endanger ecosystems and community safety.

Indigenous communities have long recognised that land is a living entity with spirit, and that stewardship requires accountability to future generations. When monetary policy treats assets as purely bartered items, the underlying safeguards built by treaty agreements often slip into the abyss of profit maximisation. The resulting environmental degradation—polluted rivers, loss of prairie, increased wildfire risk—feeds into a cycle that jeopardises not just ecological balance but the cultural continuity of native societies.

Compounding the problem, the 2008 global crash—founded in a shaky mortgage market that Greenspan’s policy had contributed to—threatened the already fragile economies of many Native Nations. Housing defaults and foreclosures left communities without certifiably safe shelter, a crisis that ran counter to the century‑old philosophy of collective well‑being that underpins Indigenous law.

As the United States grapples with climate shifts, energy demands, and economic recovery, there are lessons to be learned from Greenspan’s track record. An increasingly common call from indigenous leaders is for a new paradigm of monetary systems that reflects the intricate link between financial credit, environmental health, and social equity. Such a paradigm would honour the ancestral practice that resources are not merely owned, but entrusted by the Earth and managed for the welfare of all, echoing principles that exist in tribal law, well beyond the written statutes of the federal government.

Moving forward, the Federal Reserve could, for instance, introduce policies that incentivise investment in renewable energy projects on tribal lands and set aside capital for community‑led land‑management programs. It could also limit speculative borrowing that leads to overexploitation of base‑material and limits eligibility of mortgage credit for high‑yield extraction leases. These reforms would uphold the connective thread of stewardship that is central to indigenous belief—an earth that knows, a memory that sings, and a future that hums with hope.

Greenspan’s death, while a moment of national mourning, presents a unique opportunity for national leaders to reflect on the balance between macro‑economic stability and the well‑being of all societies, especially those who have cared for and understood the land for millennia. As the country contemplates this legacy, voices from the plains, forests and seas must be given the voice in crafting policies that protect both people and planet.