Showing posts with label extinction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label extinction. Show all posts

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

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.

Tuesday, 23 May 2017

Collapse Step-by-Step, Part 1: Unevenly, Unsteadily and Unequally

My Front Yard Garden in Kincardine, Ontario, Canada — May 23, 2017
Recently planted and freshly rained on.

Some months ago I promised to finally get around to writing a set of posts dealing with the specific nature of the collapse that lies ahead of us, and how we might best cope with it. In the meantime I had a few things to cover to lay the foundation for such a discussion. Well, I have finished that foundation, and the time has finally come for a closer look at collapse.

Out there in the real world, it's gardening time and I've just finished getting the majority of my gardens planted. Beans and squash will have to wait until it warms up just a little more. But now I have more time to work on this blog.

I've just finished a series of four posts ( 1, 2, 3, 4 ) on threats to mankind's continued existence which brought me to the conclusion that there is around one chance in five that we'll be extinct by the end of this century, and almost a certainty that we'll experience at least some degree of societal collapse during that time period.

So I think my readers could be forgiven for getting the impression that I am expecting some sort of apocalypse. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. The collapse I am expecting is of the slow, bumpy and "yucky" variety. I've talked about this before, but always briefly, trying to squeeze a lot of information into a few sentences. It's a topic that I think deserves to be looked at in more detail.

I was listening to one of KMO's C-Realm Vault podcasts (#247) the other day and he gave a very clear exposition of what I also happen to think about mankind's future. So full credit to KMO for putting the seeds of the next couple of paragraphs in my mind. How they grew once they got there is entirely my responsibility. And by the way, do consider subscribing to the C-Realm Vault, those podcasts are definitely worth the price of admission.

I think it likely (80%) that we will avoid extinction during this century. Eventually of course, like almost all species, our days will come to an end. But that's most likely some hundreds of thousands of years away.

I do expect we will see a significant drop in our population during this century. Also a big decline in the amount of energy we use on a per capital basis, and along with that the level of organization and technology we have at our finger tips will be reduced considerably. That's what I mean when I'm talking about collapse.

But I have to admit that the idea of apocalypse has quite an attraction. If you're a romantic kind of day dreamer (or a writer of apocalyptic science fiction), a quick and dramatic end of civilization does have a certain appeal. You can easily imagine you and your loved ones facing the challenges of survival, in a world from which have been removed all the irritating elements of modern life. You no longer have a job, you don't have to go to work and many other irritating demands on your time have disappeared. You can concentrate on what's important and the situation makes it pretty clear what that is. Further, your debts have been wiped out and along with them all those monthly bills.

If you've been anticipating something like this, perhaps you've even been developing useful skills and squirreling away just the sort of tools and supplies you need to get you through the rough parts. You might even end up being the hero of the piece. And in this sort of day dream it's easy to gloss over the unpleasant (indeed horrific) aspects of such a situation.

In contrast, I think my version of collapse is already nicely underway. Reality is already quite "yucky" for a great many people and can be expected to get worse as collapse continues and picks up momentum. The irritating parts of modern life seem to be getting worse and can be expected to continue in that direction. You may well lose your job, but the banks aren't going to go away just yet and neither are the bill collectors. And the whole thing is likely to take decades to unwind. Currently, and probably during much of what lies ahead, it won't be completely clear that a collapse is actually taking place and can be blamed for you troubles. More and more people will become intimately acquainted with what it means to be poor and for those of us who are first and foremost good consumers, this will be a bitter pill.

No doubt we will often ask, "Why me?" In large part the answer is that we've had the misfortune to be born into the period in history when the supply of high quality fossil fuels that has fueled the growth and increasing complexity of our civilization for the last few centuries is running out. And along with it the ability of the biosphere to absorb the byproducts of that burning without deleterious changes, especially to the climate. For more details, see my last post.

But why do I think the collapse will proceed slowly? Some writers who are aware of these issues point to the complex network of connections that is our modern global society and say that because those connections are so vital, that once a few of them break the whole thing will fall down like a house of cards, "apocalyptically". Perhaps, on a timescale of millennia, a collapse like this can be viewed as talking place "quickly", but for those who are living through the experience, far from it. A planet such as ours is a big place, and a society such as ours is a large and tenacious organization, with a huge amount of inertia. Powerful people, more than anyone else, have a vested interest in keeping things going more or less as they are. So we can be sure that every effort will be made to do just that. In the short term I think those efforts will often be somewhat successful. In the long run, of course, they may prove more harmful than beneficial.

Other's will point to the concept embodied in Seneca's curve, named for the Roman philosopher who noted that things take a long time to get going but fall apart quickly. I have no quarrel with this, but I must point out that our present society took hundred of years to get going—from the European Renaissance in the 1300s, to the late1900s when things started to fall apart. That's not quite 700 years. Or if you want to take it from the invention of the steam engine, starting around 1700, that's still around 300 years. So a collapse that takes decades, even most of a century, is still following Seneca's curve. Thanks, by the way, to Ugo Bardi for the graphic and a clear explanation of what's involved in making that curve asymmetrical.

What do I mean by unevenly, unsteadily and unequally? I'm talking here about the irregular progress of collapse on three different scales: geographical, chronological and social. So, geographically uneven, chronologically unsteady and socially unequal.

First, let's look at geography. Natural resources are not spread out evenly, nor are they becoming exhausted in any sort of regular pattern. The human population is also spread out very unevenly. The effects of climate change and other ecological disasters vary from place to place as well. It is a large planet and it's various parts are separated by physical distance and the artificial distance enforced by political borders, so what happens in one place does not necessarily or immediately effect another. I fully expect to see some countries in an advanced stage of collapse while (a few) others, or at least parts of them, are still very much living in the twenty-first century and successfully pursuing advances that seem like science fiction today.

Second, there's time. Events are going to proceed at different speeds over time, even reversing themselves occasionally. Sometimes things will get worse so slowly that only by looking back over a period of years will we be able to detect any changes. At other times it will seem like the bottom has suddenly fallen out of our lives in a single day or hour. And sometimes, to the delight of those who don't believe in collapse, things will recover to some degree. The argument will then be made that this is just part of an economic cycle—the sort that "happens all the time".

Third there's society, or class within society. This is largely a matter of power and wealth, which are clearly related.

Those with power and wealth have the ability, to some degree at least, to isolate themselves from negative changes. Of course, when things finally catch up with them, they are probably less mentally prepared to cope with the situation, having become accustomed to a high standard of living and having copious resources close to hand with which to solve problems.

The poor, on the other hand, have long experience coping with the sort of circumstances that occur as collapse takes a step forward. To them it's just more of the same old shit. What can't be changed must be endured and they are good at that. But some things are beyond endurance and if you are without the resources to respond, you're out of luck and it may be the end of the story for you.

One of the obvious responses of the rich and powerful to a contracting economy is to make sure they get a larger share of the shrinking pie. As a consequence those outside of their select circle are left with a smaller share of that smaller pie. Inequality between the various strata of society will keep increasing, in fits and starts of course (staying with the theme of this post).

And of course we'll see combinations of all three sorts of variation—things collapsing at different rates in different places and differently for those in different socioeconomic classes. Some areas, as desertification or sea level rise progresses, will be largely abandoned. In the cities, more and more people will join the ranks of the homeless, abandoned as worthless by the society around them.

For those of us in the middle and upper classes (the top 20%), living in peaceful and economically successful western countries, it may be hard to tell that collapse is even happening—certainly not right now, not locally and not to the people we associate with. Even though things aren't going nearly so well in other parts of the world or for less fortunate people in our own area.

It is very easy not to look beyond our horizons (geographically, socially or chronologically), and live within a false cocoon of security. People living in such a cocoon are unlikely to take collapse seriously, to prepare for what is coming or to respond quickly enough when it starts to happen to them. Nor are they likely to offer much help to people who are farther along the collapse curve.

The conventional mass media do a good job of reinforcing our sense of security by largely ignoring "collapse-like" events in other parts of the world. Examples that come immediately to mind are the triple-digit inflation, rising crime, and shortages of food and medicine in Venezuela and the famines in Somalia, South Sudan, Nigeria and Yemen, which, so far, have been almost completely ignored in the western media. Syria is, I suppose, something of a counter example, although the news coverage we've had has missed important points about what is really going on there.

Of course, if you go looking on the internet, you can find lots of information about things you hear hardly a word about in the conventional media.

Another thing that varies is the social acceptability of the idea of collapse. I remember reading books back in the 1970s that predicted collapse, then the subject was largely unheard of for years, until the first few years of the new millennium when it appeared in the guise of "Peak Oil". This really got going after the economic crash in 2008 and continued until 2012 or '13. Then it petered out—with the "success" of fracking, Peak Oil was declared dead and the concept of collapse was once again not something to discuss in polite company. And now in 2017, perhaps spurred by events in the USA, collapse is once more being discussed by ordinary people, not just us dedicated kollapsniks.

At this point I find myself in danger of straying into areas that are the subjects of my next few posts. So, not wishing to trip over my own feet, I'll bring this to an end, and wait until my next post to continue talking about the bumpy path that lies ahead of us.

Note: in my last post, I was a little confused about the exact relationship between EROEI and "surplus energy". I have now edited that post to correct the problem. Thanks to Anti Troll at the Doomstead Diner for pointing this out. And thanks to RE at the Diner for allowing me to cross post to his site.


Links to the rest of this series of posts:
Political Realities / Collapse Step by Step / The Bumpy Road Down