The author, Dave Pollard, uses philosophical ideas about human nature to looks at massive cultural changes throughout history and maps out why some succeed (Civil Rights movements, eradication of small pox) and why some fail (Nazi imperialism, combating climate change). He talks about these issues in relation to how urgent they are, and how easy they are to fix. For example, eradicating small pox had high urgency and, once a vaccine was discovered, it was relatively easy to fix. Therefore, it was possible go get people on board with the tasks needed to eliminate the disease. It was an achievable goal.
Addressing climate change, peak oil or unsustainable use of resources (all of which will require massive cultural changes) is the exact opposite. To most people - and therefore to "society" - these are low urgency issues. We have plenty of resources! Walmart still imports disposable, synthetic (oil) goods from China which line shelves of massive stores in nearly every town! As long as we can get gas for our cars, we'll believe there is an endless supply of oil, even as the price continues to rise.
These issues are also difficult to competently fix. Our entire food system, for example, is based on cheap, available oil. We can't change that without massive shifts in agriculture, grocery stores and individual eating habits. The American Dream says that each generation should "have more" than the one before. For a vast majority of people and businesses having and acquiring more "stuff" is a central goal in life. It's what our whole economy is based upon. You can't change that by electing an idealist President for four, or even eight years. It requires a massive shift in culture.
Because of this, Mr. Pollard believes it is impossible to enact effective measures to stop the coming collapse of the western, consumerist way of living (the end of life as we know it). He describes his epiphany as the lifting of a great weight off his shoulders. And then, he became a "joyful pessimist."
We cannot save the world. And suddenly I realized how precious this life and my time was, and how life that is not lived to the full every moment, presently, is no life at all, [...] That there is only here, and now. And that everything my culture had told me, taught me, was an unintended lie.There is a lot in this philosophy that I can relate to. Pollard was previously an activist, as was I when we lived for 5 years in Washington, DC. We both went from believing that we could save the world if everyone just knew that they were mucking it up, to realizing that the system would not change and deciding to live the rest of our lives how we wanted and letting other folks live how they wanted.
We both struggled with the decision. I spent many weeks and months wondering where the line was between "tolerance" and "apathy." I wonder still if I just didn't try hard enough, and if I'm just being totally selfish with this farming thing. Am I strong for rejecting the unintended lie (Pollard is more generous than I am. Unintended? Or "Good for the Wealthy?") of an entire culture or am I pathetically weak because I just can't hack it in the real world?
Pollard struggles this way:
To many of my friends and (dwindling, disappointed) readers, and to some people I dearly love, this is not a revelation but a cop-out, a rationalization for laziness and inaction. Even if it seems impossible, they say, you have to try. You can’t give up. Without hope we can’t go on.He goes on to say that he could live naked in the woods, reducing his carbon footprint to nearly nothing, but someone would move into his old apartment and use all the oil he wasn't. This dramatic example is meant to explain something, I think, more than it is meant to be an actual option. It reminded me of many, many discussions in my household, as well as 2011 essay comparing humans to beer yeast. In this story, a "moral yeast" decides to cut down on his sugar eating, knowing that as he and his billions of yeasty neighbors eat sugar, they are simultaneously increasing their population and pooing out alcohol that will reach concentrations that will eventually kill them all. Of course, as home brewers know, it doesn't really matter if one yeast stops eating. His neighbor, or his cousin, or his landlord's lover, is just going to use up that sugar (or for humans: oil, trees, land...) and the alcohol level will still become deadly at pretty much the same rate as if he did enjoy the sugar.
But I’ve tried being the responsible pacifist, and the reformist. I don’t believe this gets us anywhere, for the reasons I’ve tried to explain above. I’ve tried being an activist, a resistance fighter. My heart isn’t in it — I can’t see taking the dreadful risk of being imprisoned or injured to try to stop the Tar Sands or factory farming when Jevons, and everything I have learned, tells me anything I accomplish will be undone, and more.
(emphasis mine)
It's a tough thing to realize.
Upon this realization, Pollard decided to focus his work and advocacy away from attempting to reform big systems, and instead "start to focus attention on adapting to and increasing our resilience in the face of, the cascading crises that will eventually (I think by century’s end) lead to civilizational collapse."
It's pretty pessimistic. I don't know that I'm there yet. I don't believe collapse is inevitable. I have certainly left the culture of unintended lies in many ways. When I left my job, I left the idea that a paycheck gave my life meaning...that consumer goods were a vital component of self-esteem...or that I could work within the system to create change. However, my husband still has a job. We still pay a mortgage and watch TV (through the internet). We buy wines from around the world and cellar them for the future. We save money for the future too.
We have a retirement account and a farm. We're working to be ready either way.
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