Slate had a little piece on “The Future of Futurism” this week.

Oddly, it never quite discusses futurism as it now exists.

The author, Reihan Salam, spends considerable space on bloggers: the thoughtful John Robb of Global Guerillas, and the less-thoughtful (or at least less wise) Glenn Reynolds (InstaPundit). Salam cites Reynold’s boosterism of the invasion of Iraq as an example of poor forecasting.

And indeed it was. But InstaPundit is not a futurist: he’s an ideologue, and ideologues tend to practice bad futurism, as they are blinded by their own limited notions about reality.

(Incidentally, I was at a meeting of working professional futurists shortly before the Iraq war. Not a single one thought an invasion was a good idea, as they could clearly see what was likely to unfold.)

Salam also cites the two poles of neo-Malthusians (who focus on scarcity and ecological disaster) and Cornucopians (who believe in the saving power of technology).

Again, however, he is a bit off the mark: those are ideological positions.

Good futurists aren’t ideologues, and aren’t convinced that any vision of the world is certain.

Nor are we merely “techno-realists,” whom Salam commends. Futurism encompasses — by necessity — much more than technology. And that is why a group of futurists had doubts about Iraq: we did what we are supposed to do, combining knowledge of the Middle East, military technology, nationalism, and even historical analogues to discern the most likely scenarios.

Our clients pay us to tell them about likelihoods, uncertainties, and improbabilities, and to know something about which is which. We try to warn them about what they can’t control, and point them on paths to their desired futures. We know something about the speed and shape of change. We know very well that we can’t “predict” the future — and we understand why.