In an Orlov “Level 3″ (or greater) collapse, who will be your community? Neighbours you have to drive to? Who will defend your right to you piece of land if powerful strangers decide they want your fruit trees and perennials?

It seems to me that intentional community on a much closer scale is going to be the best defensive strategy. A small family and 40 acres is pretty easy to simply roll over; but 20 people on those same 40 acres is going to socially more difficult to simply squash, and will require at least an Orlov-4 or 5 collapse.

Well anyway, we’re trying to get 15 families on 104 acres here. But as your assumptions in this essay point out, it is very hard to get people to see past the way property and community are structured today, in this high-fructose energy environment, rather than how property and community could be optimally organized.

Is this hard work? Yes, of course, and not merely physically … but intellectually, emotionally, and psychologically. But so was life in the ivory tower. As Henry Ford said, “Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably the reason why so few engage in it.” I’ve never been averse to hard work, which probably will cause me considerable angst when we return to the Thoreau-vian days of sitting on the porch watching the sun climb, then descend. As Orlov points out, the highest rate of mortality in the post-collapse USSR was found in men aged 45 to 55 (primary causes were suicide and alcoholism). I’m 50, and I’ve been driven my hyper-competitive entire life to achieve. So I’m a little concerned about my ability to forgo hard work for extended periods of time. So far, that hasn’t been a problem

I have a question. I read these blog entries (and today’s entry is one of my favorites, by the way) with a mix of two emotions. On one hand, I feel a romantic connection to the life you are describing. On the other, I am horrified by the amount of hard work you must be doing. Tell me. Do you feel happier in this, your new life?

I would think I would be happier. And yet there is the conflict, again. Because I also fear leaving what is comfortable and familiar in the admittedly detestable sloburbs.

Isn’t it strange that I – and many others, I am sure – would feel “connected” to this life without connections. That I would feel that my life has meaning in this bland, stuccoed existence? I’m sure I’m not alone.

What do you think?

Having experienced the work life from the isolated confine of a cubicle for many years, I struggle at times with tapping into the source of an existing skill or certain ability. It’s important to be generous towards others, I believe, in pointing out in fair terms a noticeable aptitude that would adapt well to meeting more intense future needs. This acknowledgement made from astute observations could become an important departure point of further concentration and growth for someone, as well as become a crucial confidence builder.

Every now and again, I get a little tired of learning from books and long for a more hands-on approach, and yet I stay the course on that front.

Soon, I want to learn how to maintain a sharp, rust-free edge on my gardening tools, and on my paring knives. Learning this sharpening skill, and acquiring the necessary supplies, will serve me well and hopefully others, too, along the way. I’ll sharpen your scissors, and who will trim your wispy bangs, Doc?

Lately, I’m losing some sleep over the meaning of community, and have been pondering intention (I recently shook hands on a seemingly reliable exchange only to be taken to the cleaners — so to speak, and while at it why not search one’s own soul on the matter of community as personal impact!).

It can be intense, sure, and please don’t mind me if I find it interesting from the standpoint of reaching insightful levels of self-understanding.

Good work, Doc.

Marguerite ScarFace Daisy

in terms of ‘barter’ – I have been giving
jars of jam to my neighbours made from
home grown plums in exchange
for looking after the chickens whilst
we were away.

In terms of ‘skills’ and ‘preparations’ – soil conditioning and improvement is vital.

This sounds eccentric – but, I have started
to store and prerserve fallen timber, in anticipation I will need
handles for tools etc. Plus the timber is too beautiful to burn.
I already have made one for a small hand shovel using a spoke shave.

Also, I have purchased leather needles (very inexpensive and ‘small’ from the US) and I have taught myself to make bow strings, and arrows for my recurve. The technology behind string making is fascinating,
and I might add so is the knowledge of knot tieing – very useful skill.

nice post

“YouTube videos killed the radio star,
Facebook is killing the neighborhood, and
My Blog nearly killed my beloved PJ…
my dear old confidant, Paper Journal.” EM 2010

It’s strange to think that the paper journal has been replaced by an interactive blog, but then again, the paper journal can’t hear me or you. And, let’s face it, we’re the kind of people that like to be heard.

The link to Louis CK was just brilliant… it made me laugh and laugh. He brings up many a good point, and so do you. One day, we won’t be able to frivolously fly (or sit, eat, sleep and crap in the sky) to Europe for a vacation. Luxuries may go out of style because we will be too concerned about what to eat, what to drink, and how to survive in our home communities. We will be shunted backwards technologically, sent back to the primal life. I had a brief pause in my decision to go to Ecuador because I knew that it meant leaving what I’ve built on my own soil so far: friends and family, the garden, Mito and the chicks (which arrive this weekend!).
I know now that I must go so that I can live among a people that practice a similar kind of community cooperation you write about. What I’m hoping is that I will acquire a sound knowledge of what it means to be a true community. Have you watched the documentary “Brother’s Keeper”? The film takes place in rural farm country and tells a similar story to your “can’t ignore your neighbor-foe when he’s in a ditch (no matter how much think you hate the drunk SOB)”. That community glue mentality, the quaint neighbor-love, died in the garage-n-private-lawn laden suburbs here, but I have a feeling I’ll be surrounded by it in rural Ecuador. At least, I hope so.

That takes care of the big future for me.

What I like about the Guy McPherson small future you’ve constructed is that you’re witnessing in an active sense, or demonstrating what’s possible by doing it. Yours is a powerful example, even if almost everyone who reads this blog can find a good excuse not to follow it. I’m reminded of St. Augustine’s prayer that he be delivered from temptation, but not just yet.

The food, water, and warmth essays and photos are impressive and I can imagine planners in some future military regime using your sustainable ecology as a model for its officer corps.

I can’t agree with you on the subject of community. I still live in a community similar to the one you grew up in. You can call these places community if you ignore the casualties, usually women and children and old people rather than the young men who get beat up in a bar fights. These communities are self-sustaining, but usually at the expense of higher human values and gentler humans. The lowest common denominator sets the tone, and often enough the tone is ignorance, interpersonal cruelty, and hatred.

That doesn’t mean it has to be that way, but in a world that has so recently shown us the Balkan War, you do have to reckon with the lowest common denominator over time. And children have a way of ignoring the hopes and dreams of their parents, particularly where communitarian behavior is concerned. A generation will make a difference in any community, particularly when it exists in a world of increasing scarcity.

So I don’t think you can do much more than live well in the present, and be ready on a daily basis to take the consequences of your actions or inaction. What impresses me is that you’ve built a good life for yourself in the Now. That’s where we all have to live, whether we want to or not–in the middle of history, not at the end of it.

I still find myself in a quandary over the pros and cons of being land rich (i.e. moving farther out in the boonies where I can afford 5-10 acres) but neighbor and access poor, or, living in an established (albeit more densely than I care for) community like NE Portland where the folks are like minded, many things are walkable or bikeable but I don’t have that chunk of land for raising crops and critters.

The decision would be easier if I could more accurately predict both the velocity and trajectory of our energy descent. And if I could find even a small group of like minded folks who wanted a more rural life and had already established at least the rudiments of a community.

Now doubt I’ll find answers to all those questions in time…but that begs the ultimate question…how much time do I(we) have.

Keep up the great work and we’ll all try and do the same. Gently and lovingly educate, hope for the best and prepare for something less than that.

Take care,
Chuck in West Linn