Showing posts with label commune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label commune. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 June 2024

The Porcupine Saga, Part 11, When We Met Jack, Part 5

Allan Harper, morning, Thursday, April 11, 2030

Allan got up earlier than usual the next morning, anticipating Jack's arrival and hoping to help cut down a couple of cedar trees to make posts for Porcupine's new sign. He hadn't quite finished eating when Tom, Mark and Jim arrived in the dining room. He raised an eyebrow at his dad, who replied, "The building crew has claimed the addition and the school is in the living room, so we—we're the finance crew—are going to convene here."

"I'll just get out of your way," said Allan, and he started to get up with the intention of finding another place to finish his porridge.

"Hang on there, Allan," said Tom. "I think you should consider joining us."

"Me?" he replied. "Why would I be on the finance crew? I didn't bring anything but pocket change with me when I came here, and I'm no genius with money. From where I am sitting, one of the best things about Porcupine is that we are not supposed to be using money."

"And that's why I think you should be on this team," said Tom. "Look around you at who is about to sit down—Jim, Mark and me—all old people who brought pensions and investments with them. It seems that, like you, everyone else is hesitant to join us, and I see a division in the making. We need you and maybe one other person to even out the representation a bit."

"OK," said Allan somewhat doubtfully. "If you haven't picked anyone else yet, maybe Wilf would be a good choice?"

"Sounds good to me," said Tom. "if no one has any objections, maybe you could go find him and bring him back to join us? After you finish breakfast, of course"

The rest of the finance crew were fine with it, so Allan wolfed down the rest of his porridge, and headed out the back door toward the machine shed, where he expected to find Wilf. Five minutes later he was back with both Wilf and Miles in tow. "Hope nobody minds, Miles wanted to join us as well."

"That makes six of us," said Tom, "Should be OK. Any objections?"

There were none, so Tom went on, "In a crew like this we shouldn't need a facilitator, and I'm not trying to set myself up as one. But there are a few things I wanted to say..."

"Just go for it, Dad," Allan said.

"OK," said Tom. "So, we're the finance crew and as I see it, our job is going to be tallying up what our financial resources are, and then have a look at what we can do within those limits.

"But first, I have to say how much it irks me that we are having to worry about money at all. I know, this isn't a surprise, but still.... What we should be able to do, when a project is proposed, is find a way to doing it using our own materials, equipment and skills. We'd figure out what it's going to 'cost' in terms of materials and labour, decide if we want to make that investment and if so go ahead. Mark my word, money is going to distort our thinking and keep us tied up in the system we came here to escape."

"I see your point, Tom," said Jim, "and I guess that will be true eventually for most projects, but there'll still be some that need specialized tools and materials that have to come from outside Porcupine. Currently we're talking about bringing in quite a load of materials because we aren't set up as yet to take trees from our wood lot and turn them into lumber. But it's still nowhere near 100%. The changes we're talking about doing to this house, for instance, will require some lumber, drywall and hardware, but the biggest input is the house itself, which we already own. Most of the value of the end product is already here. Same with the pole barns.

"So don't feel so bad, Tom. A year from now we'll have a sawmill running and stacks of lumber drying."

"I suppose you're right, Jim," replied Tom. "Wherever possible this crew should, in my opinion, focus on spending that helps us become more self sufficient. I'm not sure if this building program does that."

"Maybe not, but we need more people and they'll need a place to sleep," said Jim. " Anyway, you asked me to tally up some figures on our current income and expenditures. Maybe I should present them?"

"Yeah, for sure, go ahead," said Tom.

There was a white board at the south end of the dining room. Jim stepped up to it, picked up a marker and wrote a figure at the top left. "OK," he said, "this is our currently monthly income from pensions."

Writing a smaller figure under the first one, he said, "And this is what we are currently spending on groceries, utilities, property taxes and so forth."

Jim did the math and wrote down the difference. "This is the amount we have monthly to spend on materials, tools, equipment, seeds, nursery stock, livestock and such. The point being to produce most of our own food, fibre, lumber, energy and so forth, and in the process to increase the amount left over for outfitting. That won't really take off until sometime in the summer."

"It's not really very much money, and there is a lot we want to do. But fortunately we also have some money in the bank and some investments." He wrote another, larger figure in the upper right, and a smaller figure underneath it.

"The larger number is the total of our investments, and the smaller number is how much return we are getting yearly," said Jim. "Because of the depression, that number isn't as large as it once would have been. I think we can expect to see it get smaller, as well. At some point I think that our pensions will get discounted too, maybe even dry up altogether. So we should aim to convert our money into more concrete investments that aren't at the mercy of the failing capitalist economy. And as Tom says, to make sure those investments end up making us much more self-sufficient than we are now."

"That's good information, and more money than I thought we had," said Allan. "But exactly what is this crew supposed to be doing? And how are we going to do it?"

"I guess we are supposed to look at all the projects people are proposing, what they'll cost and which ones we can afford to do, given the available funds," said Tom.

"Projects, eh?" said Wilf. "I gather the building crew are costing out the projects we discussed last night?"

"I believe so," said Tom.

"Well then," said Wilf, "is there much we can do until they have a lists of projects and costs drawn up. I mean beyond what Jim has already done?"

"Well..." said Tom "It does look like maybe we've done what we can financially. I think the building crew is just looking at the partitions project so far. Maybe we could come up with a longer list of projects. And maybe we should inventory the materials, tools and equipment we do have on hand. Maybe even tackle those piles of stuff in the barn..."

At that point, the front door opened. Andrea, Terry and Jack made their way in and through to the dining room.

"Mornin'," said Jack. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you folks."

"Could it wait until we are done here?" asked Tom.

"Well, I think maybe not, since it does bear on what I gather you're discussing. ," said Jack, nodding to the figures on the white board. "First thing I want to ask is this—how does one go about joining your outfit?"

"Well, so far, it's been by invitation only," said Tom, a smile forming on his face. "Are you saying you'd like to join?"

"Yeah, I am, actually," said Jack.

"Well then, you're in," said Tom, "welcome aboard!"

"That's all there is to it?" asked Jack.

"No need for more, really," said Tom.

"Just minute Tom," said Mark. "You know damn well there is a bunch of paper work that has to be taken care of. Especially since you are turning over a lot of private property to the commune, Jack. Tom did fill you in on how this place works, right? Especially the part about property?"

"Yeah—as I understand it, I just gave you 200 acres of land," replied Jack, "plus all my buildings and machinery and what little hay, straw and grain is still in the barn. And, oh yes, my pensions, cash and investments as well. Everything but what you folks recognize as my personal property."

"That's right," said Mark. "You're OK with that?"

"Strangely enough, I am," said Jack. "You know I don't want to leave my farm. But when Tom and Allan arrived yesterday, I had just about decided that there's no way to make it all work. I spent half of last night thinking about it, and it seems to me that joining Porcupine is the only way for me to have my cake and eat it too. Seeing as how my place now belongs to us all, in some sense of the word, it still belongs to me. Or a share in it anyway."

"That's true," said Tom. "Though, as I found out in the meeting last night, with consensus decision making you sometimes have to step back and let the group do what it wants with property that used to be yours."

"I can see that," said Jack. "I think I can live with it. And I'm looking forward that training on participatory democracy. Can't come soon enough."

"I think Angie made some phone calls first thing this morning," said Tom. "She's waiting for them to get back to her with dates for the training."

"That's good," said Jack. "Now, I think I mentioned yesterday that I have a couple of kids in Alberta who I don't really get along with. I know they are expecting an inheritance from me. When they hear that I've given away the farm, they won't be happy. So we'd better make this transfer of ownership bullet proof, legally speaking."

"That's the reason for the paper work," said Mark.

"Good. We'll get to that before the end of the day," said Jack. "From the figures on the board there, I gather you folks here are trying to figure out how to get properly set up with the limited money you've got?"

"Well, yeah," said Tom. "I was thinking it's going to be pretty tight."

"I can understand that," said Jack. "Mainly because I've got a big chunk of what you need, and I know how much it cost to put together. But maybe I've just solved part of your problem, eh."

"Hell yes," said Tom, "why don't you sit down and join us for a bit. Mark, you can have him after lunch."

"I'll hold you to that," said Mark.

"OK," said Jack. "I see you started by inventorying your financial resources. You can add mine to that. Jim, here are the numbers..."

Jack dictated pension, investment, utility bill and property tax numbers to Jim, who added them to the totals on the white board.

"OK, that looks a bit better—even with my expenses added in," said Jack. "You're buying your groceries retail in Inverpen?"

"We're buying as much as we can in bulk, but yes," answered Jim.

"Well, I've got some contacts who would be glad to supply you with meat, eggs and even some grains," said Jack. "And all at better prices than you're getting at the supermarkets. Especially with what inflation has done to food prices the last few years."

"Thanks, Jack," said Jim. "I think we'll want to take you up on that."

"OK," said Jack. "I'm glad to help. The next thing you need to do is inventory the tools, equipment, materials and such that you—I should say we—have on hand. I think we need to go through those piles in the pole barn and sort out what's personal property and what now belongs to the commune. And then you—we—need to do the same at my place. This has to be a first priority so you don't go spending money on things you've already got."

"Actually, we were just starting to discuss that, Jack," said Tom. "I've got a bunch of hardware left over from building a house years ago that will save us some money on the projects we are currently considering. I also suspect that the tradesmen and hobbyists among us have enough hand tools so that we don't need to buy more."

"You're likely right there," said Jack. "I guess the next thing would be to list the projects we want to tackle and figure out what order they need to be done in. Then we can start figuring out how much each project will cost. Have you got a building crew set up yet?"

"Yes, they're meeting in the addition right now," said Tom, "working on plans and a bill of materials for the partition project. Between us here, the sign crew, the building crew and homeschooling for the youngsters, there aren't any people free this morning. Sounds like this finance crew needs to switch to doing that inventory, and maybe coming up with a list of projects."

"Sounds like that to me," said Jack. "It may be that my carpentry background would be of help to the building crew. So I think I'll join them once I get done with Mark. That is, if Andrea and Terry don't mind. Maybe we can leave that sign until tomorrow..."

"Sure," said Andrea, "if that's OK by you, Terry?"

"I'm good with it," said Terry. "Hope I can get on that inventory crew."

"Me too," said Andrea. "Does your crew have room for a couple more people, Grandpa?"

"There are already six of us," said Tom. "But we could split into two groups--there's enough stuff to inventory that we won't get in each others' way."

"I'm going to leave you to that, and go touch base with the building crew," said Jack."And after that I'm all yours Mark, and we can take care of that paper work."

"I'll just come along," said Mark, "and introduce you as our newest Porcupiner."

Allan watched them go and then turned to his step-son Miles, "Well, I guess we've got some inventory to do."

"Not so fast, Allan" said Tom. "Between now and lunch, and I hope that's all the time it takes, we need to sit down here and figure out a set of guidelines for personal versus commune property. That way we can run them by the whole group right after lunch and get group approval."

Allan Harper, late afternoon, Saturday, July 21, 2040

"Well, we did figure out those guidelines by noon, and got approval from the whole commune after lunch, with only minor changes. Then we spent a few days on inventory, drawing up our list of projects, prioritizing them and figuring out what the ones near the top would cost," said Allan. "It wasn't that long, though, before we started the actual work and we've been at it ever since. You've already seen the sign over the gate, and the inside of our pole bar/hall, but I think we are finally to the point where we can start that tour I've been promising you, Uncle Will. You know, so I can actually show you what we've built over the last decade."

"Sounds good to me," said Will. "Let's do it."

Coming soon, Porcupine Saga Part 12, The Tour


Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

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Friday, 24 February 2023

The Porcupine Saga, Part 1

Last June, when I published my last blog post, ending the series I'd been working on at that point, I concluded with the following words:
"The other thing I have been thinking about is writing some fiction. I have not written any fiction since I was in high school (50 plus years ago), so it would be nice to give it a go again. Story telling is a big part of human communication, and might serve as a better way of getting across some of the ideas that I'd like to share."

It took a while to get started, but finally, I am now publishing the first in a series of fictional stories about adapting to collapse.

A Celebration at Porcupine

Allan Harper, July 21, 2040

Allan Harper felt rather amazed to have made it this far through his father's eulogy. Tom's death at 85 had come as no great surprise, but still, it hit Allan harder than he had expected. So many things left unsaid, with no chance now to ever say them. He knew that his dad would have told him this was always the case, and that he had no option but to carry on. Allan could almost hear him saying, "Best get at it."

He cleared his throat and continued, "Before I finish I guess I should say a bit about Dad's role in the founding of Porcupine. He'd been blogging about collapse for years, and had always maintained that a time would come when the capitalist system could no longer supply our daily necessities and we'd have to look after ourselves. Further, he maintained that a time would come, before then, when the system had weakened enough that it would be possible to set up something like this without too much official opposition, but not so far that the resources to do so were no longer available. For many people that would have been nothing more than talk, and it would have been easy enough for Dad just to continue talking. He'd always claimed that timing wasn't his strongest suit, but in this case he kept his eyes open for an opportunity, and when one came up, he went for it.

"By the late 2020s offshore investors owned most of the land in this area. It seems that the great majority of them went bankrupt in the crash of 2028, and stopped paying taxes, or doing upkeep on their farms. Many of the local people who'd been renting the land didn't plant a crop in the spring of '29. By that time local government received essentially zero support from the province, which had downloaded the responsibility for most services onto them, leaving them desperate for income of any sort. With shelves often empty at the grocery stores due to supply chain problems, they also badly wanted the local land farmed rather than going to thorn bush, and farmed by people willing to sell locally. Dad got this first hundred acres that we are standing on today for a fraction of the taxes owing, and the rest is history."

Allan paused, noting how the audience in front of him filled all the seating they had set up in the hall. His father had had quite a network—family took up the front row of seating, and close friends a couple of rows behind that, many from Porcupine, but also from the Inverpen and Port Elgin areas, with a few from farther afield. Even some from his working days at Hydro One. And of course most of the residents of Porcupine and many from its more recently established daughter communities had come as well.

Very few people these days would attend a large indoor gathering without wearing a mask, and these folks were no exception. Still, even with their masks on, he could tell they were hanging on his every word. Out of respect for his father, he assumed, rather than anything to do with his skills as an orator. Time to wrap this up, he thought.

Taking a breath, he said, "Well, I guess that concludes the formal part of our celebration of Dad's life. Please do hang around and visit. Drinks and snacks will be served shortly, outside at the back of this building, and you can get there through the kitchen. Supper will be served around six, in the same area."

Relieved to have that done with, Allan came down off the stage and sat between his wife, Erica, and Will Harper, his uncle and Tom's younger brother.

"That really was a fine eulogy—not an easy thing when you're talking about your own father," said Will.

"Living here at Porcupine one gets a lot of practice at public speaking. If you want to have any say in how the place is run, anyway," said Allan. "I miss the old curmudgeon, though, and more than I ever imagined I would." his voice caught a little on the last few words and he wiped a handkerchief across his eyes and blew his nose. "I hear you're interested in the two-bit tour, Uncle Will?"

"Yes, I am," replied Will, and turned to his wife, "Sue, Will's going to show me around the place. I take it you want to stay here and catch up with some of the family that we haven't seen for a while?"

"I do, and we'll manage without you somehow," she answered with a wink. "You two make sure you're not late for supper."

"Little chance of that," Allan said and turned to his partner. "Erika, I am off to give Uncle Will the grand tour. Is Mom OK?"

"Yep," replied Erika, "she just went back to the kitchen to make sure they've got everything under control."

"Eighty years old and still hard at it," Allan said, shaking his head and smiling.

Will stood, and gestured to Allan, "Lead on."

Standing up, Allan looked around the room, mentally putting himself into the "how this must look to someone who doesn't live here" mode, always the prelude to giving a tour, of which he had done more than one.

They stood near the south end of a sixty by one hundred foot pole barn which had started its life as winter housing for cattle. Early in the history of the place, they had cleaned it up, framed in the walls and the ceiling, insulated and put up vapour barrier and drywall, anticipating that it would be a challenge to heat in the winter with just the bare metal sheathing.

The north end of the building contained the kitchen, separated from the main room by a counter that served as a buffet. Just visible through large screen doors at the back of the kitchen, the summer kitchen bustled with the hot work that happened there at this time of year.

Both east and west walls had several doors leading outside. Between those doors stood shelves stuffed with books. On the east side people had started to file by a display of photos and memorabilia from Tom's life.

Windows near the top of the side walls let in enough light at this time of day to illuminate the place, and ventilator fans moved air through the building and out vents in the attic. They were in a lull between waves of the current pandemic, but keeping indoor spaces well ventilated had become an accepted necessity over the past twenty years of pandemics.

"Where would you like to start?" asked Allan.

"Well, the beginning always seems like a good place," Will replied with a chuckle.

Allan grinned and could not resist saying, "You mean like, 'The lord said let there be light and you could see for fucking miles' kind of beginning?"

"I wasn't thinking of quite that far back. You're quoting your father there, you know, and he was quoting the guys he worked with as a first year apprentice," said Will.

"I always wondered where he got that from. So, seriously then, in one sense it started next door in the old farmhouse, where we lived during the first months while we were getting this hall cleaned up. And getting our feet under ourselves, organizationally speaking. In another sense, it started in discussions I had with Dad years before that," said Allan.

Conversation had started in the background, so he said, "It's going to get loud in here—let's go outside where it's quieter."

He led out through one of the doors in the east wall, on through an entrance lean-to and into a large yard surrounded by farm buildings—the hall to the west beind them, an old-style bank barn to the north, a large garage to the east of the barn, a fram house dating frm the 1960s at the southeast corner of the yard, and a wind mill tower with their water well at the base between the barn and the house. An unusually large number of vehicles occupied the yard between the buildings, indicative of the number of people who had travelled more than walking distance to get here. With fuel rationed when available and more often not to be had at all, it looked like people had been saving up for a while to make the trip. That would certainly have been the case for Allan's older sister Arlene and her family, who had come all the way from Ottawa.

The short school bus belonged to Porcupine and it had brought people from Inverpen, Port Elgin and points between. It had been modified to burn vegetable oil, of which Porcupine produced quite a bit for culinary uses, and occasionally diverted some for use in vehicles. There were also a few cars, mostly small 2 seat electrics, some older gasoline powered cars, and quite a few bicycles, about half of them electric. A few people had even arrived on horseback, and their animals stood in the field east of the house, in the shade of a row of maple trees along the fence line.

"Let's sit here," Allan said and indicated a bench in the shade under the eaves of the lean-to they had just exited.

They both sat down and removed their masks. "We should be OK out here in the open," Allan said.

"I forget I've even got it on," said Will.

"I know what you mean," said Allan, "So, how'd you and Aunt Sue get here today?"

"We rode our electric trikes." Will pointed to a pair of three wheelers, with solar panels propped up next to them. "We've had them for about 10 years, along with those folding solar panels. They should be charged back up before sunset."

"Don't get me wrong, but that's pretty impressive for folks your age."

His Uncle Will was 75, ten years younger than Tom. Allan had turned 55 not long ago. Will was around the same height as him (and as his Dad had been), 5 foot 9 inches, with the same light brown/dark blond hair (now very much salt and pepper) and pot belly. Both sported white beards that had originally been reddish brown.

"The electric assist makes it a whole different thing. You're right—pedaling the hard way this far would probably be beyond us."

"Those hills can be a beast, for sure," said Allan. "So, this isn't your first time here, is it Uncle Will?"

"No, I've brought busloads of hungry folks out from Inverpen a few times, to the feeds you folks put on when the pandemics aren't raging. Much appreciated, too, I must say," Will answered. "But I've never really had a chance to stay and have a look around."

"We can fix that today. And since the free food here definitely doesn't come with a sermon, you may not have heard much about how this place is organized," said Allan.

"Well, Tom and I did discuss what you're doing here, on the phone and in emails," said Will. "But it's different seeing it up close and in person. And the damn pandemics have made that hard to do."

"That's for sure. Anyway, for me, I guess it all started in 2011 or so," Allan said, "I was still in Kitchener-Waterloo back then. I'd dropped out of school, and I taught violin and drove school bus for a living. I was between partners and things got lonesome in the evenings, so I'd call Dad and we'd talk."

"About politics, Peak Oil... that kind of thing?"

"Oh yeah. Dad was just then figuring out the ties between energy and the economy, so he bounced a lot of ideas off me, and it was interesting, in a dark kind of way. Then he started to write it all down and send me these long emails. And the next year, when he started his blog, for the first while most of it was straight from those emails."

"I read his blog from the start, but I didn't know you'd been involved," said Will.

"Don't get the wrong idea," said Allan, "I was NOT a 'kollapsnik' in the sense that Dad used the word. But given how things were going, even back then, I figured there was a good chance that what he expected would actually happen—or maybe worse. I sure didn't look forward to the world turning into a smoking hellscape, though, or taking up a life of manual labour on a subsistence farm. To be fair, Dad didn't really look forward to it either, but he was an avid gardener and while he claimed not to romanticize country life, he did look back with some nostalgia to his childhood on Granddad's farm. So he wasn't afraid to try for a more or less self sufficient set up like we have here."

"And like me, you were pretty sure that there'd be a technological fix before things got too much worse?" said Will.

"Well, at the time I was a typical young leftist," said Allan, "and I thought that if you were talking about carrying capacity and overpopulation, you had to be an eco-fascist. And here Dad was talking about those very things. It made for some heated discussions that had settled down into a tense truce by the early 2020s."

"And as you say, I still believed that a lot could be achieved with technology, if anybody bothered to do the work," said Allan. "The fucking crunchies recognized the problem, but feared many of the technologies that could have done some good—nuclear power and genetic engineering, for example. Those who didn't fear technology wouldn't believe what the real problems were and capitalism went right on cannibalizing the planet. Most poor or middle class people knew their own problems very well and saw that rich people didn't have those problem. So, obviously, the solution was to get rich. The majority of them had little chance of success, and even if they had succeeded, it would only have made the real problems worse. Like I said, we could have done much better. But...."

"But that's not the way it turned out, eh?" asked Will.

"Well no," Allan said, "As you know, I met Erica in the mid twenty teens and we moved to Guelph because she wanted to attend U of Moo. I found a job in a car parts factory, and then started an apprenticeship as an industrial electrician. After a couple of moves, we finally found a nice place with pretty reasonable rent, and things looked good. Especially after Erica graduated and got a job with a biotech company, and I finished my apprenticeship."

"Yeah, I remember your Dad being pretty proud of you," said Will.

"Yeah, I think he was. But then late in 2028 the economy took a definite turn for the worse, and settled in for a real long term, capital D depression," said Allan. "By the fall of '29 there was no end in sight, with things actually getting worse rather than better. I got laid off and the company that Erica was working for went tits up, so she was out of a job too. EI was far from enough to cover our expenses. In January of 2030 we missed our rent and the landlord started grumbling."

"Sounds like you were between a rock and a hard place," said Will.

"Very much so. I agonized for a while about calling Dad for help, and then one day the phone rang and it was Dad, asking how we were doing. He didn't seem surprised when I told him, and said that he could give us a month's rent, but couldn't afford to pay our rent on an ongoing basis. Then he said that he had a better plan for coping with the whole situation. He offered to pick us up and show us around. On the ride here he detailed what he hoped we could do. Much to our surprise he convinced us to give it a try, and to get some of our friends involved. There's a lot more to tell, but none of it would have happened if the economy hadn't fallen apart. Like I said inside, Dad had perfect timing on this one."

"It seems so," said Will. "Much of what he expected has come about in the last ten years, and the adaptations he recommended seem to work pretty well for you here."

"I have to admit that this life suits me better than I had imagined," said Allan, "Dad was one of the crunchiest among us, so we haven't shied back from any technology that fits in under the limitations we're working with. Technology uses energy, and only a limited amount of that is available—but enough to keep us from toiling in the fields from dawn to dusk every day."

"That's good. Maybe just for a few days during planting and harvest though, eh?"

"True, and there's quite a bit of weeding to be done in late June and early July," said Allan. "But many hands make light work."

"I would have thought that a setup like this might have some social advantages that make up for any other shortcomings," said Will.

"Yes, indeed," said Allan, "no feudal overlords or fat-cat capitalists to support and no stupid bosses to contend with either, or rent to pay. The conservative politicians are at arm's length and seem to have other things to worry about. The grub's mighty good, as is most of the company. I still wouldn't have jumped at Dad's invitation to join him here, except that by that point we were looking at sleeping under a bridge."

"And it turned out that Tom wasn't an eco-fascist after all?" said Will.

"No, I have to admit he wasn't," said Allan with a sigh, "I hadn't been reading his blog after the first year or so, or listening well to what he was saying, so I missed the part where he explained about that. He wanted to decrease the consumption of the top 30% of people in the world, and increase the standard of living of the bottom 70%. He maintained that if we did this we could reduce the burden we placed on the planet by a factor of two and largely eliminate the overshoot situation."

"And what about limits?" asked Will. "I've never been able to understand why leftists hate the idea of limits so much."

"That's easy—we think it's a lever used by capitalists put up prices, and to force austerity on poor people," said Allan. "And sometimes it is, but it turns out that there really are limits to growth, after all. It's a finite planet and we had already come a lot closer to filling it up than I realized. Anyway, I read Dad's series of blog posts about "The Limits to Growth", and then finally got around to reading the book itself and a few others. All of this with Dad standing by to respond to my questions."

"And I'll bet he had all kinds of data and examples of how overshoot is damaging the biosphere," said Will.

"Yep, and eventually he convinced me that carrying capacity is a valid concept," said Allan, "I'd always seen it represented as a constant value and I knew that was wrong. Traditionally, we have always modified our environment to increase its carrying capacity. I think that led me (and many others) to believe we'd always be able to so."

"But... limits, right?" said Will.

"Yes, limits," said Allan. "This is a finite planet and finally here in the twenty-first century we've just about reached the limit of what can be done in that direction. The Green Revolution was a step too far, leaving us dependent on dwindling non-renewable resources. Dad emphasized that the impact we have on the planet is dependent on both population and consumption. The eco-fascists don't want to change their lifestyle, and they think that getting rid of the poor brown people, or at least stopping them from breeding, would fix things. In fact it would do very little—hell, take them right out of the equation and we would still be solidly in overshoot."

"Didn't Tom maintain that the immediate need was to reduce consumption in the developed world?" asked Will.

"Yeah, and before 2028 it looked like it would never happen. But the way the economy has ground to a halt since then has helped a lot. We're no longer spewing so much carbon into the atmosphere, or chewing through natural resources so quickly." said Allan, "and places like this set an example of how to live sustainably, and even give some back to the planet, if I do say so myself. It has been damned hard on people living in the big cities, though. To the point where they aren't so big anymore...."

"Yep, it has been a lot easier on small towns in the middle of agricultural areas. Places like Inverpen. I was in touch with your dad quite a bit when things began to go downhill," said Will, "trying to figure out what the hell had happened. It seems to me that it all started with a power outage. I can still remember the day...."

Coming soon: The Porcupine Saga, Part 2: When The Lights Went Out, Will Harper, July 19, 2028


Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

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