Sunday 24 September 2023

The Porcupine Saga, Part 4, One Last Lecture, Part 1

Allan Harper, early afternoon, Tuesday, April 9, 2030

From his seat at the back Allan Harper looked around the big room where they all sat. By his count there were twenty of them now, himself included. Seated on an assortment of couches and chairs they pretty well filled up the addition to the old farm house. He and his dad, Tom Harper, had spent the last six weeks tracking these people down and moving them here, to the back end of Inverpen Township. Now Tom had called them all together.

Allan didn't like meetings, having sat through too many pointless ones at work, but he couldn't see any way out of this one, short of setting fire to the house. That would be pretty counterproductive, though, and would probably only serve to delay the meeting anyway. So he resigned himself to sitting through it, doubting that anything useful or important would come of it.

Tom stood at the far end of the room, in front of a big white board with an erasable marker in his hand.

"For the last few weeks there have been few enough of us that we've just made decisions by talking things over after supper every night," said Tom. "Two problems with that. First, we've added five more people today and more are coming. Soon there will be too many of us for such an informal arrangement. Even now, we can't all sit around one table. We need to formalize our decision making a bit. And two, you folks have been letting me just go ahead and run things. You really don't want to do that in the long run."

This struck Allan as his dad being dumb in an all too familiar way. Allan had no doubt that Tom would try to steer the group towards the sort of consensus decision making process that they had often argued about. He just had to speak up. "Why not Dad?" he asked."We need a leader and you seem to know what you are doing, you've got a plan for where we're going with this. If you get too far out of line, don't worry, we'll let you know."

Most of the people in the room nodded their heads and murmured in agreement. But Allan knew his dad wouldn't go along with it.

"We'll get back to that before I'm done here—it's part of what I want to talk about. And Allan, I know you won't let me forget," replied Tom, "But before I do quit running things—and I guarantee I will—there are a few things I want to say."

Allan shook his head and frowned, but decided to hold off from saying anything more for the moment.

"I haven't made any sort of a secret of what I hope we can do here, but I've mostly talked about it in bits and pieces, and to individuals or couples rather than the whole group. I think I should run through the whole idea from top to bottom in one go, in front of you all at once, just so everyone is on the same page," Tom said. "Hmmm... now that I am faced with the task, I can see why I have been doing it in bits and pieces. Bear with me—it's a little hard to know where to start when trying to sum it all up in one go."

He paused for a moment, drew in a noisy breath, exhaled and then went on, "OK, maybe this will do it. There are three basic things that are behind us all being assembled here today. I sure hope that I've already made those things clear to everyone, but just in case, I guess I should go over them again. If something isn't clear, or you think I'm leaving something out, speak up."

Allan could tell his father thought this would be quick and easy. It seemed likely that he was in for a surprise.

Tom paused for a moment, taking in his audience, then continued, "So, three things."

"One, the collapse of our capitalistic industrial civilization."

"We rely on capitalism to provide us with the necessities of life, and jobs to earn the money it takes to buy them, and it is gradually failing to do either. We are seeing this first in the form of rising unemployment, lower paying and more precarious jobs, and poorer working conditions. And second, in rising prices, supply chain failures and a general decrease in the quality and variety of goods that are available, when and if they are available. Or to put it another way, we are experiencing collapse mainly as an increasing level of poverty, as the number of poor people increases and their level of poverty deepens, while the cost of living goes up. I expect all this will continue to get worse, to the point where a great many people will fall out of the bottom of our system and find themselves homeless and hungry. As many of you know personally, that has already started. Pandemics, climate change and the ongoing effort to sabotage our energy infrastructure are all contributing to the situation as well."

He turned to the white board and wrote, "1. Collapse is happening".

As he turned back to his audience, he said, "Moving on to point two—".

"Hang on a minute there Tom, how can you be sure that this mess isn't going to straighten itself out?" asked Terry Mackenzie. Alan knew him as a retired dental hygienist and amateur potter—a nice old guy who Alan quite liked.

"If you mean 'sure' in an absolute sense, Terry," answered Tom, "then of course I am not that sure. But I am pretty damned sure."

"But the economy has been in trouble before," said Terry, "and it has always recovered."

"Actually, that's part of why I am so sure," said Tom. "I don't believe what's wrong at the moment is a matter of the economy being just temporarily out of whack.

"Capitalism is inherently a cannibalistic system—it eats up the very things it relies on for its continued operation. Over the last few hundred years it has gone from crisis to crisis, running up against one set of limits after another and always finding ways around them. Some people think that this can go on forever. I don't agree.

"These days capitalism has pretty much taken over the whole world, depleted natural resources to the point where they can no longer be exploited profitably, depleted human resources to the point where families and society are breaking down and depleted political resources to the point where governments are having difficulty maintaining the systems that makes capitalism itself possible. It seems that capitalism—'business as usual'—has nowhere left to turn. It has finally hit the wall."

"But surely there is some way to reform capitalism so that can get it back on track," said Mark Mackenzie, Terry's husband, a retired lawyer, an avid gardener and a banjo player who was part of the bluegrass group Alan was putting together.

"Well," said Tom, "the present problems are the result of faults that are inherent to the system. The social democracies of the late twentieth century tried to regulate the excesses of capitalism, and they succeeded to some extent, but not completely. And now they have pretty much all been replaced by populist right wing governments who are controlled by the capitalists, who don't want to be regulated or reformed. So, I don't have much hope for that as an overall solution. On the other hand some communities, like the one we are trying to set up here, may manage to reorganize themselves in revolutionary ways so as to get away from the problems of capitalism."

So far, the questions were the kind that Tom was used to fielding, and while it was clear that Terry had surprised him, it didn't look to Allan like it was really bothering him.

"Tom, I have no trouble with the idea that collapse is going to happen," said Jim MacGregor, a retired machinist who had arrived a week before with a pretty complete machine shop stowed in a trailer behind his pickup truck. "And from your blog I know you think it is going to happen slowly. But why slow? I would have thought that once collapse gets started, it will go hard and fast."

"Jim, I've tossed that one back and forth with many other bloggers and kollapsnik friends over the last decade or two ," replied Tom, "and to a large extent it depends on what you means by slow and fast. Days, weeks, months, years, decades? I believe we started collapsing almost 60 years ago, with the energy shocks caused by OPEC in the earlier 1970s. And I'd say we've got another decade or two at least before the process is complete. I've met people who call that a fast collapse and others that think it's really slow."

"Christ," said Jim, "if that isn't slow, I don't know what would be."

"Still, it's only 7 or 8 decades," said Tom. "Rome took several hundred years to collapse and it was a much smaller entity than our current global civilization. Define the speed of collapse as you will, but there are three things I've observed that are beyond doubt:

"One, collapse proceeds unevenly in a geographical sense. Things fall apart in one area while continuing along as usual in others.

"Two, it proceeds unsteadily in a chronological sense. Things decline quickly for a short period of time, then stay the same or even improve somewhat for a long time after that.

"And three, collapse proceeds unequally in the social or 'class' sense, usually hurting the middle and lower classes far more than the one percent at the top.

"All this makes it hard to see that collapse is really happening and it leads people to put off preparing for it, leaving them even more susceptible to it when it happens to them.

"But speaking in an overall sense, things really do go slower than you might expect. Shaky as our society is, it has a lot of momentum and a big majority of people who are trying to keep it going, with a lot of resources devoted to the job. So when things start to decline rapidly, measures are taken to stop it. Even if they don't succeed and there is a local collapse, things tend to get put back together, at least to some extent.

"And so far, collapse has been confined to small enough areas that help has always been available from outside. Or sometimes, when we in the developed countries don't really care much about the affected area, we just conveniently forget about it. The news cycle is short and it moves on. Ask people in New Orleans or Syria."

Unlike his father (and Jim, evidently) Allan wasn't any sort of "kollapsnik", but he did have a lot of personal experience with the decline his Dad was talking about, and while he wasn't sure about Tom's ideology, pragmatically speaking he was ready to go where Tom lead, especially if the food was good and there was a warm place to sleep.

"What do you think about the sabotage that's been going on the last couple of years?" asked Jim.

"I sympathize with the people who are doing it, whoever they are," said Tom. "We're doing nothing about climate change and other insults to the biosphere. We're making no attempt to conserve non-renewable resources. These folks are frustrated by the lack of action. But we have a great deal invested in fossil fuel infrastructure, much of which needs to be abandoned, and it isn't going to be abandoned as long as it's making money for the people who own it. It would be much easier to abandon if it was in a mess, and making that mess is clearly the aim of the saboteurs.

"This is definitely making things decline faster, and the current depression is part of that. Some would argue that a fast collapse is preferable since it quickly gets rid of the old institutions that are holding us back, and it would bring to a halt the damage that is being done to the biosphere and the remaining stocks of non-renewable resources.

"On the other hand, a slow collapse would kill at lot fewer people since it gives us more time to clue in and start adapting—to develop and implement strategies while the resources supplied by civilization are still available. So, personally, I'd prefer not to speed collapse up any further—coping with it a the current rate is going to be challenging enough."

"I suspect that without that sabotage we wouldn't be here, trying to adapt," said Jim with a chuckle. "Just one more question—why do you think humanity can even hope to survive this at all?"

"Well, that's my next point, actually" said Tom. "Point Two, adaptation is possible."

"I won't deny that extinction is a possibility, especially on an individual level—when our current system quits supporting them, a lot of people will be taken by surprise, and many of them just aren't going to make it" said Tom. "But I also maintain that at least some of us are going to make a successful adaptation. To do that, we need to find an area that is likely to miss the worst of climate change (like here in the Great Lakes basin) and the worst of civil unrest (like here in Southwestern Ontario), and set up in a specific location with the resources needed to allow us to be self sufficient—rainfall, ground water, topsoil, existing forests, junk yards to salvage from and so forth (like this area here in Inverpen township)—so we don't have to rely on a system that is falling apart. Given that none of these things are that hard to do, some of us will likely manage it."

Tom turned to the white board and wrote, "2. Adaptation is possible". And on the next line, "Self-sufficiency and salvage."

"I hear people saying that there is no hope," said Jane Cook, "that it would it be better to enjoy the best of what civilization has left to offer and then go out with a bang."

Jane was a woman in her early forties who had been introduced to Allan as a psychologist and counselor, specializing in PTSD and trauma therapy.

"Well, I suspect that if you really thought that, you wouldn't be here," replied Tom with a smile. "But from one sort of viewpoint it is a fair enough question, I guess."

Allan could tell that his dad didn't really think it was fair at all—this was exactly the kind of thinking that got under Tom's skin.

"And for a while yet, you could probably fiddle while Rome burns, so to speak, if you happen to have the financial resources to support such a lifestyle. But eventually, things are going to get a lot worse. That stage won't be much fun, and it will likely last long enough to be something you'd want to avoid—you'd be going out not with a bang, but a long wimper or perhaps an extended scream. That's why I am here, doing this, instead."

"Well, Tom," Jane said, "I was thinking more along the line that the kind of life we face here might be something to avoid. I've heard people say they'd rather die than go back to the Middle Ages. And death is always an option."

"Well, Jane, a deliberate descent to the Middle Ages is not what I'm planning—this is not a reenactment of Dies the Fire," said Tom. "We'll be aiming to support an early twentieth century level of technology. I will admit that even that will take some getting used to, for people who've been living with the internet for most of their lives."

Alan knew that what his father meant by early twentieth century technology was electricity. As an electrician he expected to play a big role in setting that up, indeed he'd already made a start at it. But he wondered why Jane was giving his dad such a hard time about this.

"And there you bring us to the heart of the problem," said Jane. "These days even many homeless people have a smart phone and can get free wi-fi for an internet fix when they want one. We are all dependent on the internet to some extent, and it's so darned useful that it is hard to argue against it, or imagine doing without."

"Well, that's for us to decide as a group in the weeks to come," said Tom.

"Good, it will be interesting to see what we decide" replied Jane. "And Tom, I hope you know I'm just giving you the gears here. You've asked me to serve as counselor for this group, since we are both expecting the people will have some trouble adapting to our new lifestyle. And I think that is definitely going to be the case. Though actually, looking around this room, I'm pretty impressed—none of us have been checking our phones since we sat down here. So maybe there is hope."

"I think there is, Jane," Tom replied. "And I'm hoping the loss of twenty-first century conveniences will be compensated for by getting away from the trials of capitalism and wage slavery. But I do suspect many of us will find need of your help. And there will be others, yet to arrive, who will have had some harrowing experiences on their way here, and will need your help in coping with that trauma."

"I'm beginning to wonder if I'll be the first person to need my help," said Jane. "It's a lot to take in."

"Indeed it is," said Tom. "Anyway, time to move on to my third point: adaptation is best approached as a communal effort."

"It's clear to me that attaining a significant degree of self-sufficiency is best done as a group effort," said Tom. "Looking around the room, I can see that we already have a set of skills and experiences that no one person or even one couple could ever hope to have. There are many ways to organize a group like this, but regardless of which one we chose, a group it must be."

He turned to the white board, and wrote, " Self-sufficiency—a community effort".

At this point Allan was a little surprised to hear his wife Erica speak up. "Tom, people are hard creatures to get along with. Do you really think putting up with all the interpersonal drama is going to be worth it?"

"I know what you mean, Erica," said Tom, "and I feel the same. Very few of us have had the opportunity to try this sort of a living situation. It's going to be a learning experience, and it will take some effort. But, yes, I think that it will definitely be worth it.

"Still, you are right to be concerned. If you look at the history of intentional communities, what you'll see is a lot of failures. Why? Well, several reasons. The single biggest one is that they were often based on magical thinking, the childish idea that if you want something badly enough, you'll get it. And many of the people involved rejected the sort of counting, measuring, calculating and planning that they connected with business—which was exactly what they were trying to get away from. This meant that they were very poorly organized."

"A bunch of hippies, you mean" said Erika.

"More or less," said Tom with a grin. "But another important factor was that they didn't really need the thing to succeed. They had the option of quitting and going back to regular society when the going got tough. We, on the other hand, really need to make this work.

"Some of you may be aware that I am on record as believing that intentional communities are a bad idea. But that was in a bog post that I wrote about twelve years ago, and a number of things have changed, mainly due to the depression. At that time farm land was extremely expensive, now some of it can be had for back taxes. Most people still had jobs back then, and would have been foolish to leave them, where now unemployment is at a ninety year high and most of us here, if we're not retired, are out of work.

"That puts the idea of an intentional community in a much different light, and that's why I have invited you all here. I am optimistic that we can make this work. We all have similar political leanings—we're flaming commies, to put it bluntly—and that should make it easier to agree on how we're going to organize our community."

A tall, skinny fellow cleared his throat and said, "We just got here today and in case the introductions didn't stick, my name is Wilf Janes—Wilf the Welder, they call me. I am, as you say, a leftist. But I have to wonder, Tom—why you think a little group like this can do any better than the whole of capitalism?"

Allan saw Wilf as a potential friend, but this worried him. He didn't think that Tom had had enough time alone with Wilf to arrange this question, but it sure did lead in the direction he knew his father wanted to go.

"Now we'll never get him stopped, "Allan said quietly to his wife Erika who was sitting next to him.

Tom, who had clearly heard Allan, gave him a cold stare, with one eyebrow raised in question.

Allan put up his hands, palms out, and shook his head—an indication that he didn't want to fight. Not yet, anyway....

"Well... ," Tom went on, "I'm not a fan of capitalism. It's only goal is to make rich people richer. It doesn't have a purpose as far as the rest of us go, except to the extent that it can exploit us in one way or another. And it certainly isn't even trying to fix the problems we're concerned about. As I said a moment ago, it tends to cannibalize the very resources it's dependent on, and because of that it just goes from crisis to crisis. Like the present one. So that sets the bar pretty low."

"Sure," said Wilf, "but I hope you've got more up your sleeve than that."

"Oh, I do," replied Tom. "What I'm thinking of is the power of co-operation and sharing. What is often called mutual aid."

He wrote again on the board: "Mutual Aid, Sharing, Co-operation"

"Doesn't sound like much," said Wilf.

"More than you might think," replied Tom. "We're all used to living in a capitalistic society, where we are urged to compete for artificially limited resources. Mutual aid is scoffed at and its strengths are downplayed. If we all started to help each other, capitalism would lose two of the things it relies on —workers and consumers. We have got some learning to do—none of us have had much practice at this sort of thing. But we shouldn't underestimate its possibilities—a co-operative, communal organization acts as a force multiplier for its members."

He turned to the board and added "—Force Multiplier" to the same line.

"For most of our existence as human beings we lived together in small egalitarian groups. Everyone contributed to the extent of their abilities, and were supported to the extent of their needs and the ability of the community to do so. If that sounds familiar, it's a paraphrase of Marx and a description of primitive communism. This was, and is still, a very effective way of organizing small communities. It allowed our relatively small, slow, and weak species to spread over most of the world and occupy a slot at the top of the food chain."

"Actually, I can accept that," said Wilf. "but people aren't equal, so what's this egalitarian thing?"

"People are all different from one another, and it can be pretty hard to say who is better or worse, given that the situation at hand is always changing," said Tom. "But by equal I mean that each member of this group will have equal rights and privileges and an equal voice in our councils. Also, following that communistic ideal, this won't be strict equality—those who need more will get more, and those who are more capable will give more. And just in case there is any doubt, this is regardless of age, gender, race, sexual preferences or anything else that people can find as an excuse to base a prejudice on."

On the board Tom wrote: "Egalitarian Groups, Primitive Communism—from each... to each..."

Turning back to his audience, Tom said, "Actually, I think we are teetering on the edge of the next major area I want to cover. So maybe this would be a good time for a break and perhaps a stretch and some fresh air. Let's take 15 minutes and when we come back, I'll go over some of the specifics of how I hope this is going to work."

Allan checked the time on his phone and quickly set an alarm for 15 minutes. Standing up, he turned to Erika and said, "let's go outside."

"I see your mom heading for the kitchen," she replied. "I think I should give her a hand."

"OK," said Allan, "See you in a bit."

Coming soon, The Porcupine Sage, Part 5, One Last Lecture, Part 2


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

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