Posts Tagged ‘climate change’

I pull in my share of information about current events and geopolitics despite a practiced inattention to mainstream media and its noisome nonsense. (See here for another who turned off the MSM.) I read or heard somewhere (can’t remember where) that most news outlets and indeed most other media, to drive traffic, now function as outrage engines, generating no small amount of righteousness, indignation, anger, and frustration at all the things so egregiously wrong in our neighborhoods, communities, regions, and across the world. These are all negative emotions, though legitimate responses to various scourges plaguing us currently, many of which are self-inflicted. It’s enough aggregate awfulness to draw people into the street again in principled protest, dissent, and resistance; it’s not yet enough to effect change. Alan Jacobs comments about outrage engines, noting that sharing via retweets is not the same as caring. In the Age of Irony, a decontextualized “yo, check this out!” is nearly as likely to be interpreted as support rather than condemnation (or mere gawking for entertainment value). Moreover, pointing, linking, and retweeting are each costless versions of virtue signaling. True virtue makes no object of publicity.

So where do I get my outrage quotient satisfied? Here is a modest linkfest, in no particular order, of sites not already on my blogroll. I don’t habituate these sites daily, but I drop in, often skimming, enough to keep abreast of themes and events of importance. (more…)

I finished Graham Hancock’s Fingerprints of the Gods (1995). He saved the best part of the book, an examination of Egyptian megalithic sites, for the final chapters and held back his final conclusion — more conjecture, really — for the tail end. The possible explanation Hancock offers for the destruction and/or disappearance of a supposed civilization long predating the Egyptian dynasties, the subject of the entire book, is earth-crust displacement, a theory developed by Charles Hapgood relating to polar shifts. Long story short, evidence demonstrates that the Antarctic continent used to be 2,000 miles away from the South Pole (about 30° from the pole) in a temperate zone and may have been, according to Hancock, the home of a seafaring civilization that had traveled and mapped the Earth. It’s now buried under ice. I find the explanation plausible, but I wonder how much the science and research has progressed since the publication of Fingerprints. I have not yet picked up Magicians of the Gods (2015) to read Hancock’s update but will get to it eventually.

Without having studied the science, several competing scenarios exist regarding how the Earth’s crust, the lithosphere, might drift, shift, or move over the asthenosphere. First, it’s worth recognizing that the Earth’s rotational axis defines the two poles, which are near but not coincident with magnetic north and south. Axial shifts are figured in relation to the crust, not the entire planet (crust and interior). From a purely geometric perspective, I could well imagine the crust and interior rotating as different speeds, but since we lack more than theoretical knowledge of the Earth’s liquid interior (the inner core is reputedly solid), only the solid portions at the surface of the sphere offer a useful frame of reference. The liquid surfaces (oceans, seas) obviously flow, too, but are also understood primarily in relation to the solid crust both below and above sea level.

The crust could wander slowly and continuously, shift all at once, or some combination of both. If all at once, the inciting event might be a sudden change in magnetic stresses that breaks the entire lithosphere loose or perhaps a gigantic meteor hit that knocks the planet as a whole off its rotational axis. Either would be catastrophic for living things that are suddenly moved into a substantially different climate. Although spacing of such events is unpredictable and irregular, occurring in geological time, Hancock assembles considerable evidence to conclude that the most recent such occurrence was probably about 12,000 BCE at the conclusion of the last glacial maximum or ice age. This would have been well within the time humans existed on Earth but long enough ago in our prehistory that human memory systems record events only as unreliable myth and legend. They are also recorded in stone, but we have yet to decipher their messages fully other than to demonstrate that significant scientific knowledge of astronomy and engineering were once possessed by mankind but was lost until redeveloped during the last couple of centuries.

As I read into Fingerprints of the Gods by Graham Hancock and learn more about antiquity, it becomes clear that weather conditions on Earth were far more hostile then (say, 15,000 years ago) than now. Looking way, way back into millions of years ago, scientists have plotted global average temperature and atmospheric carbon, mostly using ice cores as I understand it, yielding this graph:


I’ve seen this graph before, which is often used by climate change deniers to show a lack of correlation between carbon and temperature. That’s not what concerns me. Instead, the amazing thing is how temperature careens up and down quickly (in geological time) between two limits, 12°C and 22°C, and forms steady states known at Ice Age Earth and Hot House Earth. According to the graph, we’re close to the lower limit. It’s worth noting that because of the extremely long timescale, the graph is considerably smoothed.


As a boy, my home included a coffee table book, title unknown, likely published circa 1960, about the origins of human life on Earth. (A more recent book of this type attracting lots of attention is Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind (2015) by Yuval Harari, which I haven’t yet read.) It was heavily enough illustrated that my siblings and I consulted it mostly for the pictures, which can probably be excused since we were youngsters at the time time. What became of the book escapes me. In the intervening decades, I made no particular study of the ancient world — ancient meaning beyond the reach of human memory systems. Thus, ancient could potentially refer to anthropological history in the tens of thousands of years, evolutionary history stretching across tens of millions of years, geological history over hundreds of millions of years, or cosmological time going back a few billions. For the purpose of this blog post, let’s limit ancient to no more than fifty thousand years ago.

A few months ago, updates (over the 1960 publication) to the story of human history and civilization finally reached me (can’t account for the delay of several decades) via webcasts published on YouTube between Joe Rogan, Randall Carlson, and Graham Hancock. Rogan hosts the conversations; Carlson and Hancock are independent researchers whose investigations converge on evidence of major catastrophes that struck the ancient world during the Younger Dryas Period, erasing most but not all evidence of an antediluvian civilization. Whereas I’m a doomer, they are catastrophists. To call this subject matter fascinating is a considerable understatement. And yet, it’s neither here nor there with respect to how we conduct our day-to-day lives. Their revised history connects to religious origin stories, but such narratives have been relegated to myth and allegory for a long time already, making them more symbolic than historical.

In the tradition of Galileo, Copernicus, Newton, and Darwin, all of whom went against scientific orthodoxy of their times but were ultimately vindicated, Carlson and Graham appear to be rogue scientists/investigators exploring deep history and struggling against the conventional story of the beginnings of civilization around 6,000 years ago in the Middle East and Egypt. John Anthony West is another who disputes the accepted narratives and timelines. West is also openly critical of “quackademics” who refuse to consider accumulating evidence but instead collude to protect their cherished ideological and professional positions. The vast body of evidence being pieced together is impressive, and I truly appreciate their collective efforts. I’m about 50 pp. into Hancock’s Fingerprints of the Gods (1995), which contains copious detail not well suited to the conversational style of a webcast. His follow-up Magicians of the Gods (2015) will have to wait. Carlson’s scholarly work is published at the website Sacred Geometry International (and elsewhere, I presume).

So I have to admit that my blog, launched in 2006 as a culture blog, turned partially into a doomer blog as that narrative gained the weight of overwhelming evidence. What Carlson and Hancock in particular present is evidence of major catastrophes that struck the ancient world and are going to repeat: a different sort of doom, so to speak. Mine is ecological, financial, cultural, and finally civilizational collapse borne out of exhaustion, hubris, frailty, and most importantly, poor stewardship. Theirs is periodic cataclysmic disaster including volcanic eruptions and explosions, great floods (following ice ages, I believe), meteor strikes, earthquakes, tsunamis, and the like, each capable of ending civilization all at once. Indeed, those inevitable events are scattered throughout our geological history, though at unpredictable intervals often spaced tens or hundreds of thousands of years apart. For instance, the supervolcano under Yellowstone is known to blow roughly every 600,000 years, and we’re overdue. Further, the surface of the Moon indicates bombardment from meteors; the Earth’s history of the same is hidden somewhat by continuous transformation of the landscape lacking on the Moon. The number of near misses, also known as near-Earth objects, in the last few decades is rather disconcerting. Any of these disasters could strike at any time, or we could wait another 10,000 years.

Carlson and Hancock warn that we must recognize the dangers, drop our petty international squabbles, and unite as a species to prepare for the inevitable. To do otherwise would be to court disaster. However, far from dismissing the prospect of doom I’ve been blogging about, they merely add another category of things likely to kill us off. They give the impression that we should turn our attention away from sudden climate change, the Sixth Extinction, and other perils to which we have contributed heavily and worry instead about death from above (the skies) and below (the Earth’s crust). It’s impossible to say which is the most worrisome prospect. As a fatalist, I surmise that there is little we can do to forestall any of these eventualities. Our fate is already sealed in one respect or another. That foreknowledge make life precious for me, and frankly, is another reason to put aside our petty squabbles.

In what has become a predictable status quo, President Obama recently renewed our official state of emergency with respect to the so-called War on Terror. It’s far too late to declare a new normal; we’ve been in this holding pattern for 16 years now. The article linked above provides this useful context:

There are now 32 states of national emergency pending in the United States, with the oldest being a 1979 emergency declared by President Jimmy Carter to impose sanctions during the Iran hostage crisis. Most are used to impose economic sanctions — mostly as a formality, because Congress requires it under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act.

In his term in office, Obama has declared 13 new emergencies, continued 21 declared by his predecessors and revoked just two, which imposed sanctions on Liberia and Russia.

Pro forma renewal of multiple states of national emergency is comparable to the 55-year-old U.S. embargo against Cuba, due for reauthorization next month, though indications are that the embargo may finally be relaxed or deauthorized. Both are examples of miserably failed policy, but they confer a semblance of power on the executive branch. Everyone knows by now that no one relinquishes power willingly, so Obama, like chief executives before him, keeps on keeping on ad nauseum.

Considering Obama’s credential as a Constitutional scholar, relatively unique among U.S. presidents, one might expect him to weigh his options with greater circumspection and with an eye toward restoring suspended civil liberties. However, he has shown little interest in doing so (as far as I know). In combination with the election only a couple months away, the U.S. appears to be in a position similar to Germany in 1932 — ready and willing to elect a despot (take your pick …) and continue its slide into fascism. Can’t even imagine avoiding that outcome now.

The surprising number of ongoing emergencies makes me point to James Howard Kunstler and his book The Long Emergency (2006). Though I haven’t read the book (I’m a failed doomer, I suppose), my understanding is that his prediction of a looming and lingering emergency is based on two intertwined factors currently playing out in geopolitics: peak oil and global warming. (“Climate change” is now preferred over “global warming.”) Those two dire threats (and the California drought) have faded somewhat from the headlines, partially due to fatigue, replaced primarily by terrorism and economic stresses, but the dangers never went away. Melting icecaps and glaciers are probably the clearest incontrovertible indications of anthropogenic global warming, which is poised to trigger nonlinear climate change and hasten the Sixth Extinction. We don’t know when, precisely, though time is growing short. Similarly, reports on energy production and consumption are subject to considerable falsification in the public sphere, making it impossible to know just how close in time we are to a new energy crisis. That inevitability has also been the target of a disinformation campaign, but even a rudimentary understanding of scientific principles is sufficient to enable clear thinkers to penetrate the fog.

I have no plans to return to doom blogging with any vigor. One emergency stacked upon the next, ready to collapse in a cascade of woe, has defeated me, and I have zero expectation that any real, meaningful response can be formulated and executed, especially while we are distracted with terrorism and creeping fascism.

I found a curious blog post called “Stupid Things People Do When Their Society Breaks Down” at a website called, which has a subheading that reads “Sovereignty • Integrity • Prosperity.” I haven’t delved far at all into the site, but it appears to offer alternative news and advice for preppers. The blog post uses the terms liberty activists and preparedness-minded, the first of which I found a little self-congratulatory. Existence of anarchist movements, which include The Liberty Movement (mentioned in the comments at the site), have been known to me for some time, but my personal response to the prospect (indeed, inevitability) of collapse does not fit with theirs. Quoted below are the introductory paragraph, headings (seven stupid things referred to in the title), and truncated blurbs behind each (apologies for the long quote). My comments follow.

A frequent mistake that many people make when considering the concept of social or economic collapse is to imagine how people and groups will behave tomorrow based on how people behave today. It is, though, extremely difficult to predict human behavior in the face of terminal chaos. What we might expect, or what Hollywood fantasy might showcase for entertainment purposes, may not be what actually happens when society breaks down.

They Do Nothing. It’s sad to say, but the majority of people, regardless of the time or place in history, have a bad habit of ignoring the obvious.

They Sabotage Themselves With Paranoia. Even in the early stages of a social breakdown when infrastructure is still operational, paranoia among individuals and groups can spread like a poison.

They Become Shaky And Unreliable When The Going Gets Tough. This is why early organization is so important; it gives you time to learn the limitations and failings of the people around you before the SHTF.

They Become Hotheads And Tyrants. On the other side of the coin, there are those individuals who believe that if they can control everything and everyone in their vicinity then this will somehow mitigate the chaos of the world around them. They are people who secretly harbor fantasies of being kings during collapse.

They Become Political Extremists. Throughout most modern collapses, two politically extreme ideologies tend to bubble to the surface — communism and fascism. Both come from the same root psychosis, the psychosis of collectivism.

They Become Religious Zealots. Zealotry is essentially fanaticism to the point of complete moral ambiguity. Everyone who does not believe the way the zealot believes is the “other,” and the other is an enemy that must be annihilated.

They Abandon Their Moral Compass. Morally relative people when discovered are usually the first to be routed out or the first to die in survival situations because they cannot be trusted. No one wants to cooperate with them except perhaps other morally relative people.

Despite my basic disagreement that it’s possible to prepare effectively anymore for industrial collapse (or indeed that survival is necessarily a desirable thing in a collapse scenario), the advice seems to me pretty solid given the caveat that it’s “extremely difficult to predict human behavior in the face of terminal chaos.” However, they’re all negative lessons. One can certainly learn from the mistakes of history and attempt to avoid repeating them. (We have a predictably poor track record of learning from historical mistakes.) It may well be a case of hindsight bias that what looks perfectly clear from past examples can be used as a sort of template for best-laid-plans for both the process and aftermath of what may well be (by the article’s own admission) a protracted phase of social unrest and breakdown.

That said, let me argue just one thing, namely, why it may not be stupid (as the article opines rather flatly) after all to do nothing in preparation for rather foreseeable difficulties. Long answer short, it simply won’t matter. Whatever the precipitating event or process, the collapse of industrial civilization, unlike previous civilizational collapses, will be global. Moreover, it will be accompanied by ecological collapse and a global extinction event (process) on par with at least five previous mass extinctions. The world will thus be wrecked for human habitation on anything but the shortest additional term over those who perish at the outset. This is before one takes into account climate change (already underway but could become abrupt and nonlinear at any time) and the inevitable irradiation of the planet when 400+ nuclear sites go critical.

It’s not unusual for me to be accused of a convenient fatalism, of doing nothing because the alternative (doing something) is too difficult. That accusation sticks, of course; I won’t dispute it. However, my reading of trends guarantees the impossibility of stalling, much less reversing, our current trajectory and further suggests that the window of opportunity closed approximately forty years ago during the oil crisis and ecology movement of the 1970s. I would certainly throw my weight, influence, and effort (which are for all practical purposes nil) behind doing what is still possible to undo the worst instances of human corruption and despoliation. In addition, it seems to me worthwhile to map out what it would mean to meet our collective doom with grace, integrity, and yes, grim determination. That’s not doing nothing, but I’ve seen remarkably little discussion of those possible responses. What I see plenty of instead is a combination of bunker mentality and irrational desire for righteous punishment of perpetual enemies as we each cross death’s door. Both are desperate last hurrahs, final expressions of human frailty in the face of intractable and unfathomable loss. These, too, are the false promises of the last crop of presidential hopefuls, who ought to know quite well that presiding over collapse might just be worst possible vantage point, possessed of the full power of the state yet unable to overcome the force of momentum created by our own history.

A friend gave me William Ophuls’ Immoderate Greatness: Why Civilizations Fail to read a couple years ago and it sat on my shelf until just recently. At only 93 pp. (with bibliographical recommendations and endnotes), it’s a slender volume but contains a good synopsis of the dynamics that doom civilizations. I’ve been piecing together the story of industrial civilization and its imminent collapse for about eight years now, so I didn’t expect Ophuls’ analysis to break new ground, which indeed it didn’t (at least for me). However, without my own investigations already behind me, I would not have been too well convinced by Ophuls’ CliffsNotes-style arguments. Armed with what I already learned, Ophuls is preaching to the choir (member).

The book breaks into two parts: biophysical limitations and cultural impediments borne out of human error. Whereas I’m inclined to award greater importance to biophysical limits (e.g., carrying capacity), particularly but not exclusively as civilizations overshoot and strip their land and resource bases, I was surprised to read this loose assertion:

… maintaining a civilization takes a continuous input of matter, energy, and morale, and the latter is actually the most important. [p. 51]

Upon reflection, it seems to be a chicken-and-egg question. Which comes first, increased and unmet demands for inputs or exhausted and/or diminished inputs due to human factors? The historical record of failed empires and civilizations offers examples attributable to both. For instance, the Incan civilization is believed to have risen and fallen on the back of climate change, whereas the fall of the Roman and British Empires stems more from imperial overreach. Reasons are never solely factor A or B, of course; a mixture of dynamic effects is easily discoverable. Still, the question is inevitable for industrial civilization now on a trajectory toward extinction no less that other (already extinct) civilizations, especially for those who believe it possible to learn from past mistakes and avoid repetition.


I get exasperated when I read someone insisting dogmatically upon ideological purity. No such purity exists, as we are all participants, in varying degrees, in the characteristics of global civilization. One of those characteristics is the thermodynamic cycle of energy use and consumption that gradually depletes available energy. The Second Law guarantees depletion, typically over cosmological time frames, but we are seeing it manifest over human history as EROI decreases dramatically since the start of the fossil fuel era. So playing gotcha by arguing, for instance, “You use electricity, too, right? Therefore, you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do with electricity!” is laughably childish. Or put another way, if even an inkling of agreement exists that maybe we should conserve, forgo needless waste, and accept some discomfort and hardship, then it’s typically “you first” whenever the issue is raised in the public sphere.

In a risible article published at, Michelle Malkin calls the Pope a hypocrite for having added his authority to what scientists and environmentalists have been saying: we face civilization-ending dangers from having fouled our own nest, or “our common home” as the Pope calls it. As though that disrespect were not yet enough, Malkin also tells the Pope essentially to shut it:

If the pontiff truly believes “excessive consumption” of modern conveniences is causing evil “climate change,” will he be shutting down and returning the multi-million-dollar system Carrier generously gifted to the Vatican Museums?

If not, I suggest, with all due respect, that Pope Francis do humanity a favor and refrain from blowing any more hot air unless he’s willing to stew in his own.

The disclaimer “with all due respect” does nothing to ease the audacity of a notorious ideologue columnist picking a fight over bogus principles with the leader of the world’s largest church, who (I might add) is slowly regaining some of the respect the Catholic Church lost over the past few scandalous decades. I suspect Malkin is guilelessly earnest in the things she writes and found a handy opportunity to promote the techno-triumphalist book she researched and wrote for Mercury Ink (owned by Glenn Beck). However, I have no trouble ignoring her completely, since she clearly can’t think straight.

Plenty of other controversy followed in the wake of the latest papal encyclical, Laudato Si. That’s to be expected, I suppose, but religious considerations and gotcha arguments aside, the Pope is well within the scope of his official concern to sound the alarm alongside the scientific community that was once synonymous with the Church before they separated. If indeed Pope Francis has concluded that we really are in the midst of both an environmental disaster and a mass extinction (again, more process than event), it’s a good thing that he’s bearing witness. Doomers like me believe it’s too little, too late, and that our fate is already sealed, but there will be lots of ministry needed when human die-offs get rolling. Don’t bother seeking any sort of grace from Michelle Malkin.

Following up the idea of resource consumption discussed in this post, I stumbled across this infographic (click on graphic for full-size version):

The infographic wasn’t published on Earth Day (April 22), but it might should have been. Also, concern with what starting date to use when naming the current geological epoch after ourselves (the Anthropocene), while perhaps interesting, is more than a little self-congratulatory — but in the darkest sense, since we wrecked everything. I have nothing further to say about the futility of naming a geological epoch after ourselves considering how it marks our self-annihilation and soon enough no one will be left to know or care.

Let me describe briefly what else the infographic shows. In the extremely tiny slice of geological time (1760–2010 CE) shown along the x-axis, we have been on a gradually rising trend of consumption (measured by human population, air pollution, energy use, large dams, and more recently, number of motor vehicles), which is mirrored by a decreasing trend in available resources (measured in tropical forest area and number of species). The author, Haisam Hussein, notes that around 1950, trends began a steep acceleration (in both directions), which have not yet reached their limits. Of course, there are limits, despite what ideologues may say.

To recharacterize in slightly more recognizable terms, let’s say that the entire human population is the equivalent of Easter Islanders back in the day when they were cutting down now-extinct Rapa Nui palms as part of their ongoing project of building monuments to themselves. The main difference is that the whole planet stands in for Easter Island. And instead of palm trees, let’s say our signature resource is a money tree, because, after all, money makes the world go around and it grows on trees. Easter Island was completely forested up to about 1200 CE but became treeless by around 1650 CE. The trend was unmistakable, and the mind boggles now (hindsight being 20/20) at what must have been going on in the minds of the islanders who cut down the last tree. Here’s the equally obvious part: the planet (the money tree) is also a bounded (finite) ecosystem, though larger than Easter Island, and we’re in the process of harvesting it as fast as we can go because, don’t ya know, there’s profit to be made — something quite different from having enough to live comfortable, meaningful lives.

So we’re not yet down to our final tree, but we’re accelerating toward that eventuality. It’s unclear, too, what number of trees constitutes a viable population for reproductive purposes. When considering the entire planet as an interlocking ecosystem, the question might be better posed as the number of species needed to maintain the lives of, say, large mammals like us. Aggregate human activity keeps whittling away at those species. Of course, the last money tree isn’t a physical tree like the Rapa Nui palm; it’s a social construct where ROI on continued mining, drilling, manufacturing, harvesting, building, paving, transportation, distribution, etc. runs its course and all profit-making activity comes to a screeching halt. The so-called shale oil miracle that promised eventual U.S. energy independence only a few moons ago has already busted (it was going to anyway as production tailed off quickly) and job losses keep piling up (tens and hundreds of thousands worldwide). Consider that a small, inconsequential brake on accelerating trends. Where things get really interesting is when that bust/halt spreads to every sector and food/energy supplies are no longer available in your neighborhood, or possibly, just about anywhere unless you grow your own food well away from population centers.

Virtually every failed bygone civilization provides evidence that we, too, will proceed doing what we’re doing heedlessly: cutting down trees until at last there are no more. Again, the mind boggles: what could possibly be going on in the minds of those holding the reins of power and who know where we’re headed (to oblivion) yet keep us pointed there steadfastly? And why don’t more of us regular folks also know our trajectory and take to task our leaders for failing to divert from our trip into the dustbin of history?

Dave Pollard, who blogs at How to Save the World, published an article in Shift Magazine called “See No Evil: The Morality of Collapse.” The subtitle in particular intrigued me because devising ways to respond to collapse is more realistic than forestalling it or attempting to fix things. Pollard often organizes his thinking in terms of infographics and offers the doomer taxonomy shown below. He admits considerable overlap between categories and migration between them as individuals confront the issues and learn more about what is either possible or desirable. The categories divide nearly in half (by type, not population) into collapsniks and salvationists, with two additional categories of fence-sitters at opposite ends of the vertical axis, which represents hope or optimism as one ascends to the top. (more…)