Archive for the ‘Industrial Collapse’ Category

Richard Wolff gave a fascinating talk at Google offices in New York City, which is embedded below:

This talk was published nearly two years ago, demonstrating that we refuse to learn or make adjustments we need to order society better (and to avoid disaster and catastrophe). No surprise there. (Also shows how long it takes me to get to things.) Critics of capitalism and the democracy we pretend to have in the U.S. are many. Wolff criticizes effectively from a Marxist perspective (Karl Marx being among the foremost of those critics). For those who don’t have the patience to sit through Wolff’s 1.5-hour presentation, let me draw out a few details mixed with my own commentary (impossible to separate, sorry; sorry, too, for the profusion of links no one follows).

The most astounding thing to me is that Wolff admitted he made it through higher education to complete a Ph.D. in economics without a single professor assigning Marx to read or study. Quite the set of blinders his teachers wore. Happily, Wolff eventually educated himself on Marx. Multiple economic forms have each had their day: sharing, barter, feudalism, mercantilism, capitalism (including subcategories anarcho-capitalism and laissez-faire economics), Keynesian regulation, socialism (and its subcategory communism), etc. Except for the first, prevalent among indigent societies living close to subsistence, all involve hierarchy and coercion. Some regard those dynamics as just, others as unjust. It’s worth noting, too, that no system is pure. For instance, the U.S. has a blend of market capitalism and socialism. Philanthropy also figures in somehow. However, as social supports in the U.S. continue to be withdrawn and the masses are left to fend for themselves, what socialism existed as a hidden-in-plain-sight part of our system is being scaled down, privatized, foisted on charitable organizations, and/or driven out of existence.

The usual labor arrangement nearly all of us know — working for someone else for a wage/salary — is defined in Marxism as exploitation (not the lay understanding of the term) for one simple reason: all economic advantage from excess productivity of labor accrues to the business owner(s) (often a corporation). That’s the whole point of capitalism: to exploit (with some acknowledged risk) the differential between the costs of labor and materials (and increasingly, information) vs. the revenue they produce in order to prosper and grow. To some, exploitation is a dirty word, but understood from an analytical point of view, it’s the bedrock of all capitalist labor relationships. Wolff also points out that real wages in the U.S. (adjusted for inflation) have been flat for more than 40 years while productivity has climbed steadily. The differential profit (rather immense over time) has been pocketed handily by owners (billionaire having long-since replaced millionaire as an aspiration) while the average citizen/consumer has kept pace with the rising standard of living by adding women to the workforce (two or more earners per family instead of one), racking up debt, and deferring retirement.

Wolff’s antidote or cure to the dynamic of late-stage capitalism (nearly all the money being controlled by very few) is to remake corporate ownership, where a board of directors without obligation to workers makes all the important decisions and takes all the profit, into worker-owned businesses that practice direct democracy and distribute profits more equitably. How closely this resembles a coop (read: cooperative), commune, or kibbutz I cannot assess. Worker-owned businesses, no longer corporations, also differ significantly from how “socializing a business” is generally understood, i.e., a business or sector being taken over and run by the government. The U.S. Postal Service is one example. (Curiously, that last link has a .com suffix instead of .gov.) Public K–12 education operated by the states is another. As I understand it, this difference (who owns and runs an enterprise) is what lies behind democratic socialism being promoted in the progress wing of the Democratic Party. Bernie Sanders is aligning his socialist politics with worker ownership of the means of production. Wolff also promotes this approach through his book and nonprofit organization Democracy at Work. How different these projects may be lies beyond my cursory analysis.

Another alternative to capitalist hegemony is a resource-based economy, which I admit I don’t really understand. Its rank utopianism is difficult to overlook, since it doesn’t fit at all with human history, where we muddle through without much of a plan or design except perhaps for those few who discover and devise ways to game systems for self-aggrandizement and personal benefit while leaving everyone else in the lurch. Peter Joseph, founder of The Zeitgeist Movement, is among the promoters of a resource-based economy. One of its chief attributes is the disuse of money. Considering that central banks (the Federal Reserve System in the U.S.) issue fiat currency worth increasingly little are being challenged rather effectively by cryptocurrencies based on nothing beyond social consensus, it’s interesting to contemplate an alternative to astronomical levels of wealth (and its inverse: debt) that come as a result of being trapped within the fiat monetary system that benefits so very few people.

Since this is a doom blog (not much of an admission, since it’s been obvious for years now), I can’t finish up without observing that none of these economic systems appears to take into account that we’re on a countdown to self-annihilation as we draw down the irreplaceable energy resources that make the whole shebang go. It’s possible the contemplated resource-based economy does so, but I rather doubt it. A decade or more ago, much of the discussion was about peak oil, which shortly thereafter gave way to peak everything. Shortages of materials such as helium, sand, and rare earths don’t figure strongly in public sentiment so long as party balloons, construction materials, and cell phones continue to be widely available. However, ongoing destruction of the biosphere through the primary activities of industrial civilization (e.g., mining, chemical-based agriculture, and steady expansion of human habitation into formerly wild nature) and the secondary effects of anthropogenic climate change (still hotly contested but more and more obvious with each passing season) and loss of biodiversity and biomass is catching up to us. In economics, this destruction is an externality conveniently ignored or waved away while profits can be made. The fullness of time will provide proof that we’ve enjoyed an extraordinary moment in history where we figured out how to exploit a specific sort of abundance (fossil fuels) with the ironic twist that that very exploitation led to the collapse of the civilization it spawned and supported. No one planned it this way, really, and once the endgame came into view, nothing much could be done to forestall it. So we continue apace with self-destruction while celebrating its glamor and excess as innovation and progress. If only Wolff would incorporate that perspective, too.

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I started reading Yuval Harari’s book Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow (2017). Had expected to read Sapiens (2014) first but its follow-up came into my possession instead. My familiarity with Harari’s theses and arguments stem from his gadfly presence on YouTube being interviewed or giving speeches promoting his books. He’s a compelling yet confounding thinker, and his distinctive voice in my mind’s ear lent to my reading the quality of an audiobook. I’ve only read the introductory chapter (“A New Human Agenda”) so far, the main argument being this:

We have managed to bring famine, plague and war under control thanks largely to our phenomenal economic growth, which provides us with abundant food, medicine, energy and raw materials. Yet this same growth destabilises the ecological equilibrium of the planet in myriad ways, which we have only begun to explore … Despite all the talk of pollution, global warming and climate change, most countries have yet to make any serious economic or political sacrifices to improve the situation … In the twenty-first century, we shall have to do better if we are to avoid catastrophe. [p. 20]

“Do better”? Harari’s bland understatement of the catastrophic implications of our historical moment is risible. Yet as a consequence of having (at least temporarily) brought three major historical pestilences (no direct mention of the fabled Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse) under administrative, managerial, and technical control (I leave that contention unchallenged), Harari states rather over-confidently — forcefully even — that humankind is now turning its attention and ambitions toward different problems, namely, mortality (the fourth of the Four Horsemen and one of the defining features of the human condition), misery, and divinity.

Harari provides statistical support for his thesis (mere measurement offered as indisputable evidence — shades of Steven Pinker in Enlightenment Now), none of which I’m in a position to refute. However, his contextualization, interpretation, and extrapolation of trends purportedly demonstrating how humans will further bend the arc of history strike me as absurd. Harari also misses the two true catalyzing factors underlying growth and trends that have caused history to go vertical: (1) a fossil-fuel energy binge of roughly two and one-half centuries that peaked more than a decade ago and (2) improved information and material flows and processing that enabled managerial and bureaucratic functions to transcend time and space or at least lessen their constraints on human activity dramatically. James Beniger addresses information flow and processing in his book The Control Revolution (1989). Many, many others have provided in-depth analyses of energy uses (or inputs) because, contrary to the familiar song lyric, it’s energy that makes the world go round. No one besides Harari (to my knowledge but I’m confident some lamebrained economist agrees with Harari) leaps to the unwarranted conclusion that economic growth is the principal forcing factor of the last 2–3 centuries.

I’ve taken issue with Harari before (here and here) and will not repeat those arguments. My impression of Homo Deus, now that I’ve got 70 pages under my belt, is that Harari wants to have it both ways: vaguely optimistic (even inspirational and/or aspirational) regarding future technological developments (after all, who doesn’t want the marvels and wonders we’ve been ceaselessly teased and promised?) yet precautionary because those very developments will produce disruptive and unforeseeable side effects (black swans) we can’t possibly yet imagine. To his credit, Harari’s caveats regarding unintended consequences are plain and direct. For instance, one of the main warnings is that the way we treat nonhuman species is the best model for how we humans will in turn be treated when superhumans or strong AI appear, which Harari believes is inevitable so long as we keep tinkering. Harari also indicates that he’s not advocating for any of these anticipated developments but is merely mapping them as likely outcomes of human restlessness and continued technological progress.

Harari’s disclaimers do not convince me; his writing is decidedly Transhumanist in character. In the limited portion I’ve read, Harari comes across far more like “golly, gee willikers” at human cleverness and potential than as someone seeking to slam on the brakes before we innovate ourselves out of relevance or existence. In fact, by focusing on mortality, misery, and divinity as future projects, Harari gets to indulge in making highly controversial (and fatuous) predictions regarding one set of transformations that can happen only if the far more dire and immediate threats of runaway global warming and nonlinear climate change don’t first lead to the collapse of industrial civilization and near-term extinction of humans alongside most other species. My expectation is that this second outcome is far more likely than anything contemplated by Harari in his book.

Update: Climate chaos has produced the wettest winter, spring, and summer on record, which shows no indication of abating. A significant percentage of croplands in flooded regions around the globe is unplanted, and those that are planted are stunted and imperiled. Harari’s confidence that we had that famine problem licked is being sorely tested.

“Come with me if you want to live.” That’s among the quotable lines from the latest movie in the Terminator franchise, though it’s not nearly so succinct or iconic as “I’ll be back” from the first Terminator. Whereas the latter has the quality (in hindsight) of slow, implacable inevitability (considering the Terminator is literally a death-bringer), the former occurs within the context of a character having only just traveled back in time, not yet adequately reoriented, and forced to make a snap decision under duress. “I’ll be back” might be easy to brush off as harmless (temporary denial) since the threat recedes — except that it doesn’t, it’s merely delayed. “Come with me …” demands a leap of faith (or trust) because the danger is very real at that instant.

Which quote, I must ask, better characterizes the threat of climate change? My answer: both, but at different times. Three to four decades ago, it was the “I’ll be back” type: building slowly but inevitable given the underlying structure of industrial civilization. That structure was known even then by a narrow circle of experts (e.g., engineers for Big Oil and at the Dept. of Energy) to be a heat engine, meaning that we would ultimately cook our own goose by warming the planet, altering the climatic steady state under which our most recent civilization has flourished and producing a steady loss of biodiversity and biomass until our own human habitat (the entirety of the planet by now) becomes a hostile environment unable (unwilling if one anthropomorphizes Mother Nature) to support our swollen population. All that was if we stayed on course and took no corrective action. Despite foreknowledge and ample warning, that’s precisely what occurred (and continues today).

With the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) in particular, the threat has for roughly a decade shifted over to “Come with me ….” It’s no longer possible to put things off, yet we continue to dither well beyond the tipping point where/when we can still save ourselves from self-annihilation. Although scientists have been gathering data and evidence, forming an overwhelming consensus, and sounding the alarm, scientific illiteracy, realpolitik, journalistic malpractice, and corporate greed have all conspired to grant the illusion of time to react we simply don’t have anymore (and truth be told, probably didn’t as of the early 1980s).

I’m aware of at least three journalists (relying on the far more authoritative work of scientific consensus) who have embraced the message: Dahr Jamail, Thom Hartmann, and David Wallace-Wells. None to my knowledge has been able to bring himself to admit that humanity is now a collection of dead men walking. They can’t muster the courage to give up hope (or to report truthfully), clinging to the possibility we may still have a fleeting chance to avert disaster. I heard Ralph Nader on his webcast say something to the same effect, namely, what good is it to rob others of hope? My personal values adhere to unstinting truth rather than illusion or self-deception, so I subscribe to Guy McPherson‘s assessment that we face near-term human extinction (precise date unknown but soon if, for example, this the year we get a blue ocean event). Simply put, McPherson is professor emeritus of natural resources and ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Arizona [note my emphasis]. I trust his scholarship (summarizing the work of other scientists and drawing necessary though unpalatable conclusions) more than I trust journalistic shaping of the story for public consumption.

The obvious metaphor for what we face is a terminal medical diagnosis, or if one has hope, perhaps a death sentence about to be carried out but with the possibility of a last-minute stay of execution via phone call from the governor. Opinions vary whether one should hope/resist up to the final moment or make peace with one’s fate. By not telling the truth, I daresay the MSM has not given the public the second option by using the “I’ll be back” characterization when it’s really “Come with me ….” Various authors on the Web offer a better approximation of the truth (such as it can be known) and form a loose doomer network (a/k/a collapsniks). This blog is (an admittedly tiny) part of that doomersphere, which gives me no pleasure.

Renewed twin memes Universal Basic Income (UBI) and Debt Jubilees (DJ) have been in the news recently. I write renewed because the two ideas are quite literally ancient, unlearnt lessons that are enjoying revitalized interest in the 21st century. Both are capable of sophisticated support from historical and contemporary study, which I admit I haven’t undertaken. However, others have done the work and make their recommendations with considerable authority. For instance, Andrew Yang, interviewed repeatedly as a 2020 U.S. presidential candidate, has made UBI the centerpiece of his policy proposals, whereas Michael Hudson has a new book out called … and forgive them their debts: Lending, Foreclosure and Redemption — From Bronze Age Finance to the Jubilee Year that offers a forgotten history of DJ.

Whenever UBI or DJ comes up in conversation, the most obvious, predicable response I hear (containing a kernel of truth) is that either proposal would reward the losers in today’s capitalist regime: those who earn too little or those who carry too much debt (often a combination of both). Never mind that quality education and economic opportunities have been steadily withdrawn over the past half century. UBI and DJ would thus be giveaways, and I daresay nothing offends a sense of fairness more than others getting something for nothing. Typical resentment goes, “I worked hard, played by the rules, and met my responsibilities; why should others who slacked, failed, or cheated get the benefit of my hard work?” It’s a commonplace “othering” response, failing to recognize that as societies we are completely interconnected and interdependent. Granting the winners in the capitalist contest a pass on fair play is also a major assumption. The most iconic supreme winners are all characterized by shark-like business practices: taking advantage of tax loopholes, devouring everything, and shrewdly understanding their predatory behavior not in terms of producing value but rather as gobbling or destroying competition to gain market share. More than a few companies these days are content to operate for years on venture capital, reporting one quarterly loss after another until rivals are vanquished. Amazon.com is the test case, though how many times its success can be repeated is unknown.

With my relative lack of economic study and sophistication, I take my lessons instead from the children’s game Monopoly. As an oversimplification of the dynamics of capital formation and ownership, Monopoly even for children reaches its logical conclusion well before its actual end, where one person “wins” everything. The balancing point when the game is no longer worth playing is debatable, but some have found through experience the answer is “before it starts.” It’s just no fun destroying bankrupting other players utterly through rent seeking. The no-longer-fun point is analogous to late-stage capitalism, where the conclusion has not yet been fully reached but is nonetheless clear. The endgame is, in a word, monopoly — the significant element being “mono,” as in there can be only one winner. (Be careful what you wish for: it’s lonely and resentful at the top.) Others take a different, aspirational lesson from Monopoly, which is to figure out game dynamics, or game the game, so that the world can be taken by force. One’s growing stranglehold on others disallows fair negotiation and cooperation (social rather than capitalist values) precisely because one party holds all the advantages, leading to exploitation of the many for the benefit of a few (or one).

Another unlearnt ancient lesson is that nothing corrupts so easily or so much as success, power, fame, wealth. Many accept that corruption willingly; few take the lesson to heart. (Disclosure: I’ve sometimes embarked on the easy path to wealth by buying lottery tickets. Haven’t won, so I’m not corruptible yet corrupted. Another case of something for nearly nothing, or for those gambling away their rent and grocery money, nothing for something.) Considering that money makes the world go around, especially in the modern age, the dynamics of capitalism are inescapable and the internal contradictions of capitalism are well acknowledged. The ancient idea of DJ is essentially a reset button depressed before the endgame leads to rebellion and destruction of the ownership class. Franklin D. Roosevelt is credited in some accounts of history as having saved capitalism from that near endgame by transferring wealth back to the people through the New Deal and the war economy. Thus, progressives are calling for a Green New Deal, though it’s not clear they are aware that propping up capitalism only delays its eventual collapse through another couple cycles (reversals) of capital flow. Availability of cheap, plentiful energy that allowed economies (and populations) to balloon over the past two and one-half centuries cannot continue for much longer, so even if we get UBI or DJ, the endgame remains unchanged.

Throughout human history, the question “who should rule?” has been answered myriad ways. The most enduring answer is simple: he who can muster and deploy the most force of arms and then maintain control over those forces. Genghis Khan is probably the most outrageously successful example and is regarded by the West as a barbarian. Only slightly removed from barbarians is the so-called Big Man, who perhaps adds a layer of diplomacy by running a protection racket while selectively providing and distributing spoils. As societies move further away from subsistence and immediacy, various absolute rulers are established, often through hereditary title. Call them Caesar, chief, dear leader, emir, emperor (or empress), kaiser, king (or queen), pharaoh, premier, el presidente, sultan, suzerain, or tsar, they typically acquire power through the accident of birth and are dynastic. Some are female but most are male, and they typically extract tribute and sometimes demand loyalty oaths.

Post-Enlightenment, rulers are frequently democratically elected administrators (e.g., legislators, technocrats, autocrats, plutocrats, kleptocrats, and former military) ideally meant to be representative of common folks. In the U.S., members of Congress (and of course the President) are almost wholly drawn from the ranks of the wealthy (insufficient wealth being a de facto bar to office) and are accordingly estranged from American life the many different ways most of us experience it. Below the top level of visible, elected leaders is a large, hidden apparatus of high-level bureaucratic functionaries (often appointees), the so-called Deep State, that is relatively stable and made up primarily of well-educated, white-collar careerists whose ambitions for themselves and the country are often at odds with the citizenry.

I began to think about this in response to a rather irrational reply to an observation I made here. Actually, it wasn’t even originally my observation but that of Thomas Frank, namely, that the Deep State is largely made up of the liberal professional class. The reply reinforced the notion who better to rule than the “pros”? History makes the alternatives unthinkable. Thus, the Deep State’s response to the veritable one-man barbarian invasion of the Oval Office has been to seek removal of the interloper by hook or by crook. (High office in this case was won unexpectedly and with unnamed precedent by rhetorical force — base populism — rather than by military coup, making the current occupant a quasi-cult leader; similarly, extracted tribute is merely gawking attention rather than riches.)

History also reveals that all forms of political organization suffer endemic incompetence and corruption, lending truth to Winston Churchill’s witticism “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.” Indeed, recent rule by technocrats has been supremely awful, leading to periodic market crashes, extreme wealth inequality, social stigmatization, and forever wars. Life under such rule is arguably better than under various other political styles; after all, we gots our vaunted freedoms and enviable material comforts. But the exercise of those freedoms does not reliably deliver either ontological security or psychological certainty we humans crave. In truth, our current form of self-governance has let nothing get in the way of plundering the planet for short-term profit. That ongoing priority is making Earth uninhabitable not just for other species but for humans, too. In light of this fact, liberal technocratic democracy could be a far worse failure than most: it will have killed billions (an inevitability now under delayed effect).

Two new grassroots movements (to my knowledge) have appeared that openly question who should rule: the Sunrise Movement (SM) and the Extinction Rebellion (ER). SM is a youth political movement in the U.S. that acknowledges climate change and supports the Green New Deal as a way of prioritizing the desperate existential threat modern politics and society have become. For now at least, SM appears to be content with working within the system, replacing incumbents with candidates it supports. More intensely, ER is a global movement centered in the U.K. that also acknowledges that familiar modern forms of social and political organization (there are several) no longer function but in fact threaten all of us with, well, extinction. One of its unique demands is that legislatures be drawn via sortition from the general population to be more representative of the people. Further, sortition avoids the established pattern of those elected to lead representational governments from being corrupted by the very process of seeking and attaining office.

I surmise attrition and/or replacement (the SM path) are too slow and leave candidates vulnerable to corruption. In addition, since no one relinquishes power willingly, current leaders will have to be forced out via open rebellion (the ER path). I’m willing to entertain either path but must sadly conclude that both are too little, too late to address climate change and near-term extinction effectively. Though difficult to establish convincingly, I suspect the time to act was in the 1970s (or even before) when the Ecology Movement arose in recognition that we cannot continue to despoil our own habitat without consequence. That message (social, political, economic, and scientific all at once) was as inert then as it is now. However, fatalism acknowledged, some other path forward is better than our current systems of rule.

For a time after the 2008 financial collapse, skyscraper projects in Chicago came to a dead halt, mostly due to dried-up financing. My guess (since I don’t know with any reliability) is that much the same obtained worldwide. However, the game appears to be back on, especially in New York City, one of few cities around the globe where so-called “real money” tends to pool and collect. Visual Capitalist has an interesting infographic depicting changes to the NYC skyline every 20 years. The number of supertalls topping 1,000 feet expected by 2020 is quite striking.

Courtesy of Visual Capitalist

The accompanying text admits that NYC is left in the dust by China, specifically, the Pearl River Delta Megacity, which includes Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Macau, and others. As I’ve written before, the mad rush to build (earning ridiculous, absurd, imaginary prestige points awarded by and to exactly no one) takes no apparent notice of a slo-mo crack-up in the way modern societies organize and fund themselves. The new bear market might give one … um, pause.

Also left in the dust is Chicago, home of the original skyscraper. Since the 2008 collapse, Chicago’s most ambitious project, the ill-fated Chicago Spire (a/k/a the Fordham Spire) was abandoned despite a big hole dug in the ground and some foundation work completed. An absence of completed prestige projects since 2008 means Chicago has been lapped several times over by NYC, not that anyone is counting. The proposed site of the Chicago Spire is too enticing, however — just inside Lake Shore Drive at the mouth of the Chicago River — for it to be dormant for long. Indeed, a press release last year (escaped my attention at the time) announced redevelopment of the site, and a slick website is operating for now (linked in the past to similar sites that went abandoned along with their subject projects). Also reported late last year, Chicago appears to have rejoined the game in earnest, with multiple projects already under construction and others in the planning/approval phases.

So if hiatus was called the last time we crashed financially (a regular occurrence, I note), it seems we’ve called hiatus on the hiatus and are back in a mad, futile race to remake modernity into gleaming vertical cities dotting the globe. Such hubris and exuberance might be intoxicating to technophiles, but I’m reminded of a observation (can’t locate a quote, sorry) to the effect that civilizations’ most extravagant projects are undertaken just before their collapses. Our global civilization is no different.

The past few weeks and months have reinforced my awareness that quite a lot of human habitation is precariously situated within a variety of hazard zones, predominantly but not exclusively along the coasts. The desirability of coastlines is obvious: life is especially abundant along such boundaries. Humans rely on other lifeforms for sustenance no less than any other organism, so exploiting available resources at the coasts is a no-brainer. Plus, we need fresh water, so habitation alongside lake and river systems have also been preferential sites when frontier communities were established.

Coastlines and riverbeds in particular are dynamic, changing over varying timescales as new conditions assert themselves. Some changes are quite substantial. For instance, there is evidence that a previous human civilization situated along the coasts during the last ice age (ending some 12,000 years ago) when sea level was about 400 feet lower was effectively destroyed and covered by the Biblical flood precipitated by ice sheets melting rapidly (within a few weeks, perhaps). Since then, sea level and global average atmospheric temperature have been remarkably consistent, but they’re slowly on the rise yet again. Causes may be up for debate, but there is little doubt that human civilization and industrial activity have contributed significantly.

Coasts are not being inundated all at once as before but by slow creep of rising tides onto formerly dry land. Once in a while, storm surges and tsunamis wash inland, warning of what’s to come as global warming accelerates, oceans (continue to) warm and expand, and sea level increases (by tens of meters if the most dire predictions prove correct). This is only one water-borne threat, rhyming with past human experience. Wild fires, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, sink holes, hurricanes, tornadoes, and other natural disasters are striking all around us with increasing frequency according to this source — one reason the world is sometimes characterized as a slaughterhouse despite its amazing profundity. The three most recent disasters that amaze me (N. American bias showing here) are the California wildfires, the Hawaiian volcanic eruption on the big island, and the earthquake in Anchorage, Alaska. No need to go back in geological time; each has ample precedent in recent history. Yet we persist in living in these hazard zones and will likely rebuild and repopulate them as opportunity allows.

Whether to recommend abandonment of known hazard zones is not entirely clear to me, though I’ve ranted about the foolhardiness of rebuilding. If history is a reliable indicator and a major extinction event (process) has already commenced, it’s doubtful that anything we do or don’t do will affect outcomes to any significant extent.

In an uncharacteristic gesture of journalistic integrity (i.e., covering news of real importance rather than celebrity nonsense, lottery jackpots, or racehorse politics), the mainstream media has been blaring each new development as a caravan of Honduran refugees makes its way though Mexico toward the U.S. border. Ten days ago, CNN published a map of the caravan’s location and projected that at its current rate, arrival at the border would occur in Feb. 2019. Already the caravan has shrunk from 10,000 to 4,000 people. Hard to fathom it won’t shrink further. I’ve read reports that decent Mexican locals are handing out sandwiches and water.

The refugee crisis has been stewing and growing since at least 2016 when 45 introduced rhetoric about building a wall and making Mexico pay for it. Instead, it appears U.S. taxpayers are footing the bill. Frankly, I don’t know that there are any particularly good answers to the problem of illegal immigration. However, I daresay First World countries owe a humanitarian duty to refugees in what will prove to be an increasingly desperate diaspora from political, economic, and ecological disaster. It appears that the Mexican government gets that and has rendered aid, but intransigent members of the caravan are only interested in getting to the U.S., where they will most likely be met by razor wire and troops. Predictably, armed U.S. citizens are jumping at the opportunity to protect border integrity and prevent illegals from entering. That should end well. The U.S. looks pretty heartless in comparison with Mexico.

As industrial collapse gets worse and conditions deteriorate, the already unmanageable flow of populations away from locations where life is intolerable or impossible will only increase. Although the impulse to refuse admission is understandable, other countries have stepped up and taken in sizeable populations flowing out of the Middle East and North Africa in particular — regions that have been actively destabilized and undermined but were well into overshoot anyway. The U.S. government has often pretended to exercise its humanitarian duty, especially where armed intervention aligns with strategic interests. In the case of the caravan, risibly mischaracterized as an invasion, the powers that be reveal themselves as unusually cruel. I anticipate this unfolding drama is only the start of something big, but probably not what most people want or envision.

Update (Nov. 9)

I only just saw this short video, which predates my blog post slightly:

Guy Mcpherson is saying almost the same thing I’m saying: it’s only gonna get worse.

Update (Nov. 21)

According to the Military Times,

The White House late Tuesday signed a memo allowing troops stationed at the border to engage in some law enforcement roles and use lethal force, if necessary — a move that legal experts have cautioned may run afoul of the Posse Comitatus Act. [links redacted]

This is no surprise, of course. I can’t read into the minds of our chief executive and his staff, but suspicions are the border is like a scene from World War Z and asylum seekers are the equivalent of zombies, so just open fire — they’re already the undead.

I caught the presentation embedded below with Thomas L. Friedman and Yuval Noah Harari, nominally hosted by the New York Times. It’s a very interesting discussion but not a debate. For this now standard format (two or more people sitting across from each other with a moderator and an audience), I’m pleased to observe that Friedman and Harari truly engaged each others’ ideas and behaved with admirable restraint when the other was speaking. Most of these talks are rude and combative, marred by constant interruptions and gotchas. Such bad behavior might succeed in debate club but makes for a frustratingly poor presentation. My further comments follow below.

With a topic as open-ended as The Future of Humanity, arguments and support are extremely conjectural and wildly divergent depending on the speaker’s perspective. Both speakers here admit their unique perspectives are informed by their professions, which boils down to biases borne out of methodology, and to a lesser degree perhaps, personality. Fair enough. In my estimation, Harari does a much better job adopting a pose of objectivity. Friedman comes across as both salesman and a cheerleader for human potential.

Both speakers cite a trio of threats to human civilization and wellbeing going forward. For Harari, they’re nuclear war, climate change, and technological disruption. For Friedman, they’re the market (globalization), Mother Nature (climate change alongside population growth and loss of diversity), and Moore’s Law. Friedman argues that all three are accelerating beyond control but speaks of each metaphorically, such as when refers to changes in market conditions (e.g., from independent to interdependent) as “climate change.” The biggest issue from my perspective — climate change — was largely passed over in favor of more tractable problems.

Climate change has been in the public sphere as the subject of considerable debate and confusion for at least a couple decades now. I daresay it’s virtually impossible not to be aware of the horrific scenarios surrounding what is shaping up to be the end of the world as we know it (TEOTWAWKI). Yet as a global civilization, we’ve barely reacted except with rhetoric flowing in all directions and some greenwashing. Difficult to assess, but perhaps the appearance of more articles about surviving climate change (such as this one in Bloomberg Businessweek) demonstrates that more folks recognize we can no longer stem or stop climate change from rocking the world. This blog has had lots to say about the collapse of industrial civilization being part of a mass extinction event (not aimed at but triggered by and including humans), so for these two speakers to cite but then minimize the peril we face is, well, façile at the least.

Toward the end, the moderator finally spoke up and directed the conversation towards uplift (a/k/a the happy chapter), which almost immediately resulted in posturing on the optimism/pessimism continuum with Friedman staking his position on the positive side. Curiously, Harari invalidated the question and refused to be pigeonholed on the negative side. Attempts to shoehorn discussions into familiar if inapplicable narratives or false dichotomies are commonplace. I was glad to see Harari calling bullshit on it, though others (e.g., YouTube commenters) were easily led astray.

The entire discussion is dense with ideas, most of them already quite familiar to me. I agree wholeheartedly with one of Friedman’s remarks: if something can be done, it will be done. Here, he refers to technological innovation and development. Plenty of prohibitions throughout history not to make available disruptive technologies have gone unheeded. The atomic era is the handy example (among many others) as both weaponry and power plants stemming from cracking the atom come with huge existential risks and collateral psychological effects. Yet we prance forward headlong and hurriedly, hoping to exploit profitable opportunities without concern for collateral costs. Harari’s response was to recommend caution until true cause-effect relationships can be teased out. Without saying it manifestly, Harari is citing the precautionary principle. Harari also observed that some of those effects can be displaced hundreds and thousands of years.

Displacements resulting from the Agrarian Revolution, the Scientific Revolution, and the Industrial Revolution in particular (all significant historical “turnings” in human development) are converging on the early 21st century (the part we can see at least somewhat clearly so far). Neither speaker would come straight out and condemn humanity to the dustbin of history, but at least Harari noted that Mother Nature is quite keen on extinction (which elicited a nervous? uncomfortable? ironic? laugh from the audience) and wouldn’t care if humans were left behind. For his part, Friedman admits our destructive capacity but holds fast to our cleverness and adaptability winning out in the end. And although Harari notes that the future could bring highly divergent experiences for subsets of humanity, including the creation of enhanced humans to and reckless dabbling with genetic engineering, I believe cumulative and aggregate consequences of our behavior will deposit all of us into a grim future no sane person should wish to survive.

rant on/

As the world turns and history piles up against us, nature (as distinguished from human civilization) takes hit after hit. One reads periodically about species extinction proceeding at an estimated rate of dozens per day (or even faster), 1,000 to 10,000 times faster than the background rate of evolution without anthropocentric climate change thrown in. Headlines usually read that large populations of plants or animals show up dead where they once used to thrive. When it’s insects such as crickets or bees, we often lack concern. They’re insects after all, which we happily exterminate from places of human habitation. Although we know they’re significant parts of the terrestrial food web just as plankton function as the base of the marine food web, they’re too small and/or icky for us to identify with closely. Species die-offs occurring with large mammals such as whales or dolphins make it easier to feel empathy. So, too, with aspen trees suffering from beetle infestations and deer populations with chronic wasting disease. When at-risk species finally go extinct, no fanfare, report, or memorial is heard. Here’s an exception: a new tree species discovered and declared extinct at the same time.

Something similar can be said of cities and communities established in hurricane alleys, atop earthquake fault lines, in flood plains, and near active volcanoes. They’re the equivalent of playing Russian roulette. We know the gun will fire eventually because the trigger is pulled repeatedly (by us or by nature itself). Catastrophists believe the planet across long time spans (tens of thousands of years) has always been a killing field or abattoir, though long respites between episodes can be surprisingly nurturing. Still, the rate of natural disasters has been creeping up now for decades. According to the statistics, we can certainly tolerate disaster better (in terms of death rates) than in the early 20th century. Yet the necessity of building out civilization in perilous locations is Pyrrhic. The human species must ineluctably expand its territory wherever it can, other species be damned. We don’t need no stinkin’ whales, dolphins, aspens, deer, bees, crickets, etc. We also don’t need no stinkin’ oceanfront property (Carolina outer banks, New Jersey shore, New Orleans, Houston) that keeps getting hit, requiring regular, predictable rebuilding. Let it all go to hell (meet you there!) ruin. The insurance companies will bail us out, just like taxpayers the federal government bailed out all those banks dicking playing around with the casino economy a decade ago (which, BTW, hasn’t abated).

The typical metaphor for slow death between major planetary catastrophes is “death by a thousand cuts,” as though what’s happening this time is occurring to us rather than by and because of us. I propose a different metaphor: Jenga tower civilization. The tower is civilization, obviously, which we keep building taller by removing pieces (of nature) from the bottom to stack on top. Jenga (say it everyone: Jenga! Yahtzee!) ends when the entire edifice crashes down into pieces. Until then, it’s all fun and games with no small bit of excitement and intrigue — not so much a game of skill as a game of rank stupidity. Just how far can we build until the eventual crash? It’s built right into the game, right? We know the dynamics and the outcome; we just don’t know when the critical piece will be pulled out from under us. Isn’t the excitement just about killing us?

jenga-falling

rant off/