This guest post is authored by

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Travel to the future for a moment. Imagine a post-industrial America. Abandoned cars grow like weeds out of sun-cracked sidewalks in the parking lots of the forsaken strip malls. With no fuel to speak of, the one-eyed-one-goaled-giant-American-petroleum-eater unhinges on its political neighbors for one last hurrah; the ugly thing breaks through its political chains and incites the first true domestic war since 1861. The hind-signs of the great economic collapse of the US empire are clear: political mayhem, hunger, rampant violence, and general chaos. It’s not a pretty picture, and I’ve only painted a few potential pixels. A post-carbon apocalyptic United States of America is certainly not a place to which people would willingly travel (not on a direct flight, anyway). This place is not one that easily crosses the minds of those living in mildly industrial parts of the world. Developing nations look toward the US with a hopeful glint in their eyes, seeing only the power of progress and, like many Americans, blind to the actual costs of advancement.

Now, travel back in history. Imagine pre-industrial America, a pre-petroleum America. Communities bound by their familiar relations and their religion, a simple set of beliefs. Hay-fueled mules and horse-fueled carriages, friendly were these beasts that traveled cleanly on unpaved roads. Children were to the family as workhorses were to the farm. Back then, the one-eyed-one-goaled-giant-American-petroleum-eater was a mere zygote of a thought, and the United States was a sweetly naïve country brimming with hard working hopefuls. I recently traveled to a place that’s largely analogous to this rendering of pre-industrial America. Living in Manabí, Ecuador this summer was my personal back-to-the future experience, a snapshot of young, crying industrialism in motion. Sometimes it was difficult to decipher whether the industrial baby in this part of the world was crawling forward or backwards. The community is not perfect in terms of its impact, and the influence from modern industrial society is great. But for now I’ll paint the positive picture.

Imagine the last true rainforest in Ecuador, a lush landscape filled with the symphony of insects and birds. You trek along a wide dirt path connecting the community of Camarones to the main paved road. Few people here own cars, so motorcycles, horses and feet are the main form of transportation into and out of the community. You walk across a meandering river, El Rio Camarones, named after the native fresh-water shrimp that gave the community its first taste of economic livelihood. You see a group of girls walking across the river in the other direction to catch a bus to the nearby city of Pedernales. You do a double take when you notice their bright skimpy clothes and nice sandals; it’s a funny sight in a place like this. On your way up to the Jama-Coaque Ecological Reserve, you pass houses nestled against a backdrop of cloud-whipped mountains that blend all-too-well into their scenery. Their hand-harvested timber floors and bamboo walls invite lingering glances in their simplicity. You stop at Don Colon Vaca’s home to rest, just as all the other outsiders have done before you. This is the patriarchal home of the community, a center of generous activity. Colon’s family greets you with ever-extending kindness, and Doña Bernadina makes sure you’re well fed before you head out in your rubber boots. It’s an hour of steep and muddy hiking to the reserve from there. You wave to the locals before you reach the remote edge of the community. Not one person you stop to chat with is too busy to send you off with wishes for a good day. You see a group of glassy-eyed women shucking lima beans from fresh pods; they poke their heads from glassless windows. You wave and greet them warmly, their faces relax into soothing toothy smiles and they giggle, expressing wonder at the life of a gringo. And you express wonder right back. How could it be fulfilling, the ostensibly simple life of the Latin American farmer?

Mutual astonishment is well warranted: the life of the average US citizen is utterly different from the life of the rural Latin American, just as the life of the modern-day American is different from the pre-industrial American. Many people in the community of Camarones work directly for what they need (i.e., shelter and food). But sadly, this way of life is morphing into the grotesque modernization we find almost everywhere. People purchase imported goods from China, they ride buses fueled by toxic combustibles (mixed with lead and other heavy metals), and they graze cattle that eventually pollute and destroy the native landscape. Someone in the community introduced a profusely invasive snail species that’s reeking havoc on the native forests and creating tremendous setbacks for reforestation efforts. The community has overfished its native freshwater shrimp populations and women are sent to work exorbitant hours in industrial shrimp factories for little pay. Because of the lack of contraception, these women have multitudes of children. These younger generations have fallen out of touch with their agricultural heritage and have, unfortunately, fallen into narcotics. And to a great extent, many people are convinced that globalization and industrialization are good things, but simply out of their reach. But for every negative impact, there is a positive effort.

There are several organizations in the area, such as the Third Millennium Alliance, that are slowing the effects of industrialization by educating and conserving the natural area in which the community is nested. The reserve is an experiment in reforestation, and theirs has been a tremendous influence in the community. I was fortunate to be around those rural Latin Americans (campesinos) who still construct their own shelter and grow their own food, on their family’s land, with the resources they have (or those they can barter for). I was sent in, among other things, to make this kind of seemingly archaic life look attractive and desirable.

Within the community, manual labor is necessary and, to a lesser extent, valued. The story of Angel Paz (literally, Angel of Peace) is a great example of a rebirthing of respect for manual artisanship. The community calls him El Maestro, The Master, for his aptitude in wood and bamboo carpentry. He designed and directed a crew, composed of young volunteers and a handful of community members, to build the Third Millennium Alliance’s bamboo house. The house is a stunning structure with a floor made of diagonally arranged bamboo slats and wooden pillars soaring up to meet a loft of colorful hammocks. The bamboo was naturally grown and harvested by hand, according to the lunar calendar. It’s a magical place I like to call the bambúngalow. After he constructed the glorious house, Angel Paz became a legend; he is practically famous among the gringos and both respected and envied within the community. I was lucky enough to watch his swift mastery first-hand as he constructed an addition to the bamboo volunteer house in the community, the mini bambúngalow, my humble home for two months.

The first week in the community, I helped the matriarch of the house, Doña Bernadina, kill a rooster for our inaugural supper. Because I’ve had this experience before, I was the only willing volunteer; I was excited to hone my poultry-harvesting techniques with a pro. Let’s just say, I have 48 years of poultry harvesting to go. This type of small-scale, “backyard” agriculture is still a big part of the Latin American culture. But just as most good things wash away with the rising tide of the Western world, so too have familial agricultural practices in the region. Sustainable agriculture has been slowly phased out since the 90s with the introduction of shrimp farms and factories and the devastation of the native freshwater shrimp populations. Despite the recent move from family-style agriculture to industrial production, most people in Camarones have not moved away from farming completely just yet. It was common to pass by roosters, ducks, turkeys, pigs and chickens just as often as it was to pass by people on the pathway up to the reserve. It was not so nice to wake up to the out-of-tune tabernacle rooster choir at 4 a.m., but I got used to it quickly. Familial banana tree orchards, small cornfields, and sparse coffee groves take up much of the green space. It’s hard work to maintain and harvest the land. Rural life is difficult, but appealing in its tranquil hospitability. Because of this appeal, there’s been a recent movement of young Ecuadorian environmentalists to set up permaculture reserves in the area. In cities such as Quito, the air is heavily polluted and the people are not very congenial, all together a harsh life to take in. I was pleased to meet like-minded young Ecuadorians who are seizing the opportunity to remind people of what they’ve got before they lose it.

Initially, I was in the community to set up an organic farmers’ market, to create an economic market niche to promote regional small-scale agriculture and sustainable reforestation. The idea was that the widening of the principal avenue would increase tourist traffic, which would heighten the demand for local products. The idea is a good one, but not one that was feasible for me to complete within the 2-month period I was to be working there. There were many political and logistical hoops for me to jump through before I could even consider organizing the farmers, who only encompassed a portion of the community members. There’s a history of failed municipality and volunteer projects in the area, and the community-folk have become largely disillusioned and wary of promises. I could not guarantee to the farmers that the tourists would arrive with a demand for their products, and they could not guarantee to me that they would take the initiative to make the market work. I decided in my first week to exchange the project for a new one. I chose something none of the community members could refuse: to get rid of their trash. I would get their trash picked up, educate them on waste management, and, hopefully, help them gain a stronger sense of pride about their natural environment.

I noticed the trash problem almost immediately when I moved into the mini bamboo house in the community. Plastic wrappers and old tires are an eyesore against a native green landscape. There was trash along the path, in people’s yards, and, to my dismay, in the river. If the trash was not thrown into the river, it was burned haphazardly into harmful off-gases. I spoke with my mentor, the patriarch of the community, Don Colon Vaca, to better understand the waste management issues. The community is located 7 kilometers from the main road. It is more difficult for the dump truck to reach than the neighboring communities, which lie directly on the main avenue. Other communities were getting their trash picked up regularly. Don Colon told me that he had been trying to get the municipality to redirect the truck to pick up their trash for years, but that the promises made by the mayor never came to fruition. He explained, and I later learned first-hand, that Camarones is a legally recognized community, but that it gets ignored because of its small size (big surprise there). I immediately jumped into action.

I wrote a tenacious letter to the mayor. I explained to him that waste management was a basic right, and that the community was prepared to take whatever action necessary to be recognized by the municipality with this and other services. At first, my letter struck Don Colon and his family as too harsh and far too risky (and I was just using words!). I wasn’t surprised that they were scared to confront their political officials. The history of colonial Latin America and its politics created a submissive population, particularly among the campesinos. I urged the Vaca family and community to make a stronger stink.

Don Colon, his son, and I had a hearing with the mayor about the trash and other pressing issues in the community. The mayor told me they were in support of the trash collection and added, with a smirk an old saying, “one who doesn’t cry, doesn’t suckle!” I wasn’t impressed by the words from this political horse. But he agreed to provide a cart and a mule to collect the trash and employ a person from the community as the trash collector. On our end, we would have to construct a dumpster, a basurero. I was skeptical about his agreement. I kept my side of the deal, but the mayor “flip-flopped” a few times. I recruited people from the community to donate bamboo and their time, and together we built a biodegradable dumpster. The mayor decided the mule idea was less cost effective, so he trashed that plan, and redirected the dump truck into the community to pick up trash from each house. I was a bit disappointed because the new plan didn’t seem to be very economical or environmental in the long-term, but at least the truck showed up on time. The people of the community were very receptive to the change, and they revered it as an important accomplishment. My brief stint in Latin American politics was satisfying, but I wasn’t prepared to become a Latin American politician.

Instead, I became the trash girl. I organized a trash festival with the school children. I actually got the kids excited about picking up trash. I admit I bribed them with prizes and healthy snacks, but I taught them the difference between organic and inorganic wastes. I even influenced some to become little trash police in the community. I educated the community members about creatively recycling inorganic wastes. I made flytraps from old plastic bottles as an example. At each community meeting, I reminded them of the usefulness of organic waste, and encouraged them to compost. I explained that the point of the trash program wasn’t to generate more trash, but to clean up their act, and get municipal recognition by generating a smaller volume of trash than their neighbors. I painted anti-trash signs and hung them along the river as a friendly reminder. If I had stayed longer, I would have continued the project with communal compost and a comprehensive recycling program.

The trash program was certainly my main focus, but it wasn’t the only thing I did in small-village Ecuador. I collaborated on a fellow volunteer’s coffee cooperative project by designing the label for coffee bags. I helped other volunteers at the reserve tend their reforestation plots and harvest bamboo, bananas, and peanuts. I spent time in the vegetable garden planting cucumbers and carrots. I spent a lot of time with the family and with kids. I played futbol and ecua-volley, I gave sporadic English lessons, and I helped Doña Berna with daily chores. I helped out in the Vaca family’s little store, which they run from their dining area. If I was in the house during the day, store duty was unavoidable. I smile now thinking of the children who poked their little heads up to the open-air window to ask me for a lollipop or frozen treat (I only took their 5-cent coin when they said please). I organized a raffle to accumulate funds for the community’s bank cooperative. I donated a live chicken to raffle off, along with the first-place prize of $50. I sold tickets to anyone I could, and interestingly, people were more excited about the chicken than the money. But that’s campesino mentality at its best.

I explored the forests and surrounding natural area. I did a few hikes up to the cloud forest from the reserve and a solo hike that was absolutely incredible. I saw howler monkeys and capuchins, a childhood dream of mine. I was flabbergasted the first time I sat at the base of a palm tree listening to the demoniacal calls of the howlers in the canopy just above me. But they, just as the myriad tropical snakes, frogs, and birds became a regularity. When I was at the reserve, I was living in an enchanted forest experiencing the complex beauty of true biodiversity. When I was in the community, I was living in a true community experiencing a strong sense of familial encouragement and the complex task of organizing people for a cause.

I travel to the present. Since Ecuador, I’ve been continuing my path toward environmental enlightenment. It’s a steep hike ahead of me. (I still have a hard time remembering to flush … the composting toilet taught me well.) But for now, I won’t think about the past or the future, the good or the bad. Because in Ecuador I learned that there is nothing that cannot be enjoyed and that it is almost absurd (and futile) to distinguish between my happy and unhappy experiences. I accept all news and experiences as they come; I welcome and cultivate them, whether or not they are facilitating my enlightenment. I keep a list of my unfulfilled wishes for an ideal world stuffed away in a drawer somewhere and take each day as it comes because I might as well be personally fulfilled if and when the unrelenting giant industrial-economic monster comes crashing down.

This is by no means a comprehensive account, and the mail continues to come in. My latest essay was headlined in a website dedicated to renouncing the notion of anthropogenic climate change, where I was called a “warmist prof.” Similar silliness fills the blogosphere, as a simple search reveals. At one website, comments include suggestions to kill me.

I try to be kind and rational as I respond to each piece of email I receive. This sometimes proves too difficult for me, in which case I try to be witty. Often, I fail. Usually people give up, finding me senseless, after one message and my response. But an occasional persistent person never lets go. I have received a couple dozen messages from one guy, the last dozen of which I’ve read with the DELETE key.

Without further ado, here they be. I’ve simply cut and pasted into this space, errors and all. I’ve removed names to protect the guilty.

_______________________

> Before further embarassing yourself you may want to become more familiar
> with the climate issue. For starters, here’s a google document, written by
> your humble correspondent:
>
>
> http://docs.google.com/View?id=ddrj9jjs_0fsv8n9gw
>
> There are also references to a number of websites, and books included.
>
> Most of us have no intention of drinking any of your Kool-Aid !

Thanks, sir, for your concern about my embarrassment. I read as much of your essay as I could tolerate.

I suspect you are responding to my essay on Counter Currents, which first appeared on my blog: guymcpherson.com. Comments are welcome there, where your views would have a wide audience. You might want to read this brief essay to gain an overview of the science I cite there: http://guymcpherson.com/2009/10/apocalypse-or-extinction/

Ultimately, of course, my opinion does not matter. The facts are clear, though: western civilization nears its omnicidal end, and anthropogenic climate change will cause our extinction unless the end of western civilization comes very quickly.

Please join the conversation on my blog.

Best regards,
Guy

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On Thu, 19 Aug 2010, Bert Klein wrote:

> Its a sham that you still have access to the Internet. The fact that the
> 200year old hypotheses of “greenhouse gas effect” has never been proven by
> creditable scientific experiments means nothing to you or any other AGW
> fanatic.
> Its a waste of time to try to tell you any facts because there is no
> inteligence in you head to do any critical analysis of facts.
> Just one bite of information that you have choosen to ignore and would not
> understand the significanc of is- NOAA has acknowledge that 5 of its
> satallite data sets of temperature reading for the last decade is corrupted-
> many of the readings are from 10-500 degrees high. The faulty numbers have
> been averaged in to acceptable readings thus the temperture trends that they
> report are meaningless.

Thanks for your message, Bert, and for your concern about truth. I welcome your comments on my blog (guymcpherson.com), where your views would generate wide-ranging discussion.

You may want to read thie essay and the science underpinning it: http://guymcpherson.com/2009/10/apocalypse-or-extinction/

I agree with you about your opening statement. It’s a shame I still have access to the Internet. I look forward to the day, in the near future, when none of us have access to the Internet. That’ll be a wonderful day for the living planet, if not for western civilization.

Best regards,
Guy

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> Sir,
>
> I can only conclude that you think everyone is a fool. Sadly, I have had to
> write you and many like minded thinkers on this issue. WE HAD 7,000PPM OF
> CO2 IN THE ATMOSPHERE billions of years ago, and now….390ppm. The earth’s
> oceans suck up co2. Why do you continue to make the false case that the
> earth cannot and will not do the same thing again, on an even smaller scale.
> Do you realize we are below the average amount of atmospheric co2 based on
> earth’s historical average? And no, we are not adding co2 at an
> unprecedented rate. In fact, it was being added much more rapidly in the
> time of the dinosaurs. I am happy to see you continue to burn coal by using
> a computer. This is my favorite part of the article “Increasingly dire
> forecasts from extremely conservative sources keep stacking up.” Are you
> kidding me? Sir, surely you realize we are now more equipped than ever to
> deal with natural disasters? Here is a fine example. Villagers living on an
> island near Hawaii. They have no warning system and no fast transport.
> Conversely, if a volcano is near a city, we have advanced warning systems
> and the capability of massive transport. Having that said, I encourage you
> to stay on your farm and pretend the world is going to blow up, despite the
> fact that temperature has been higher and we have had co2 amounts massively
> higher than what we experience today.

Dear Name:

Thanks for taking the time to send a message.

I do not believe everyone is a fool, or I would not be trying to awaken people to the converging crises of energy depletion and global climate change (cf. global warming).

I use solar panels to run my laptop. Thanks for bringing that up.

As a global-change scientist, I’m quite familiar with the facts and the usual irrational arguments. Your response does not surprise me, but it does trouble me. Clearly, scientists have failed to inform the public about the dire straits we’re in. We cannot persist long above 350 ppm CO2, but we’re committed to at least 392 ppm for the next thousand years. Toss in methane, and we’re at the equivalent of 460 ppm CO2. Earth will survive with high levels of CO2, but we won’t.

It was such a lovely planet, yet we’re such a short-sighted species. Sadly, evolution does that to every species.

I welcome your comments on my blog, which would give you a much wider forum than just me: guymcpherson.com.

Make it a great day.

–Guy

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> Monsieur Guy r Mcpherson,
>
> After going through your article, it became clear that you interested
> are too narrowly limited to economics and particularly energy. This does
> not give you right to terminate a civilization.
>
> Humanist

Humanist — I do not have the power to terminate western civilization, or I would. Such an act would free non-industrial cultures and non-human species from centuries of oppression. It might even allow our species to squeeze through the global-change bottleneck, barely. I assume you’d rather we destroy all cultures, then all species, including our own? Please drop by my blog to explain that to us: guymcpherson.com. Best regards, Guy

_______________________

> Dear sir,
>
> Re.: http://www.countercurrents.org/mcpherson180810.htm
>
> Ref.: Quote, “It’s time to terminate western civilization before it
> terminates us.”
>
> Can I assume that, as you are part of western civilization, you will be
> willing to terminate yourself first; as a good example to the rest of us? I
> can assure you that the moment I hear of your demise I will take a razor to
> my own wrists.

If you’ll read my blog (guymcpherson.com), you’ll note that I will gladly give me life to terminate western civilization. You’ll also note I’ve largely abandoned western civilization.

Won’t you join me?

Comments are always welcome at my blog.

All the best,
Guy

_______________________

> Geez, it must suck to be you! Were you abused as a child?

Actually, it’s great to be me. I live in the real world, adjacent to a huge wilderness area where I have built an off-grid property to thrive when the industrial era ends. You can read about the arrangements here: guymcpherson.com. Even better, I had loving parents and relatives, none of whom abused me as a child (or an adult).

And you? What’s your story? Or, are you merely a nameless troll?

_______________________

> Sir,
> I’m not a professor of anything or any kind. I was at one time interested in
> the global warming issue and to be honest I couldn’t get enough of it. I
> read any article or blog I could get my hands or monitor screen on. During
> all of my research I started noticing things that didn’t add up, and by that
> I mean went against the basic science I learned when I was a whelp in high
> school. The more I dug in the more skeptical I became. Seeing AlGore the
> inconvenient movie didn’t help at all, I had to wave the bu@#&*it flag way
> too many times sitting through that. I am firmly in the skeptic’s ranks now
> and my opinion of the organized science community trying to foist this
> ridiculous warming hypothesis on the unclean ignorant public places science
> right in there with Ed Norton and his shovel. My main thought concerning the
> rebadged “climate Change” is why in the hell did ya’ll base your apocalyptic
> vision on runaway global heating, something that in the entire 4 billion
> year history of this planet has NEVER happened, instead of the
> scientifically known proven and I’d imagine even more devastating ice age
> which has happened many times in the planets past. Almost like a cycle the
> ice ages come and go it seems, but never once runaway global warming…

Thanks for your comment, sir. It’s the most civil one I’ve received today.

I’ve conducted research on global change for more than a decade. For a while, I tried to change minds. I’m done with that, and have focused for the last five years on economic collapse. And I’m nearly done with that, simply because I’m tired of the hate mail. If people want to ignore ongoing impacts of burning fossil fuels, fine. I gave plenty of warning.

All the best,
Guy

_______________________

> Sir, You may wish to live a life of seclusion living on eco-produced food
> from your own garden but unfortunately this does not fit in with the rest of
> humanity.
> We have yet to attain peak oil, according to the oil experts. Oil is getting
> more difficult to remove from the crust but there seems to be plenty there.
> It id technically possible to manufacture oil from bio-digesters using
> modified bacteria. There is a plant in your country which is at the moment
> doing such a thing.
> Climate change has existed for 4.6Ba and will continue and there is no data
> that shows changes are any swifter than have existed in the past. Indeed the
> Medieval Warm Period warmed faster than the early 20th century and became
> warmer. No tipping point was reached then nor in the past. Why will any
> slight warming in future produce such a thing?
> This planet has some 8 Bn people who will be fed and provided energy to
> develop, despite thinking like yours, by 21 century technical advances using
> whatever energy source is necessary including fossil fuels.
> I notice that you still have an email address so complete seclusion is out
> then.

Dear Name:

Thanks for your thoughtful comment. We disagree about several items, as you know, so I will elaborate here.

Data clearly demonstrate we passed the world oil peak in May 2005. Even the U.S. Departments of Energy and Defense agree. At current demand, we have a 30-year supply, but we will never use the deep, expensive oil with low EROI. All so-called substitutes have similarly low EROI.

You would be wise to investigate the MWP more closely. It is constantly trotted out as an exercise in denial, but the facts suggest otherwise. I have been a global-change scientist for more than a decade, and I have seen no compelling evidence to suggest the scientific consensus is threatened.

Finally, I have no intention of escaping humanity. Rather, I am embracing humanity — mine and my neighbors’ — as I explain here: http://guymcpherson.com/2009/05/humanity-at-a-crossroads/

Please drop by my blog and leave comments. We have quite a vigorous discussion there, and I welcome learning more about your views.

Best regards,
Guy

_______________________

> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Revelation
>
> Religious rants are fun…

I agree, they are

I’m a rationalist and anti-theist, though

_______________________

> I don’t know what you are smoking, but could you get me
> some of it.
> The sky ain’t falling and using Chicken Little for political
> purposes is obscene.
> I saw no heavy emphasis on population reduction, truly
> our #1 problem in good Earth stewardship.
> I may not slit my wrists, but eating my gun sounds pretty
> good.

Thanks for your message, and for taking the time to send it. I agree that the sky is not falling. Indeed, the end of western civilization is very good news for those of us who care about non-industrial cultures, non-human species, and the continued persistence of humans on Earth. I suspect there are about a dozen of us. You’re not one. Many of the 186 essays at guymcpherson.com, the original source of the essay you read, refer to overpopulation. Check ‘em out. Leave comments, please. And make it a great day. –Guy

_______________________

> Dr. McPherson,
>
> You started out your piece mentioning a fossil fuel addiction. I alway know
> when I see that that there will be a call to implement policies that will
> result in misery and death on a grand scale. You ought to be ashamed of
> yourself! I am ashamed of you as an American and as someone who once
> respected American academics. First we are not “addicted” to fossil fuels at
> all. That is a ridiculous anti-intellectual cheap appeal to an emotional and
> illogical response. Fossil fuels are the foundation of modern economic and
> indeed survival activity. Without replacing these very abundant fossil fuels
> with inexpensive alternatives before curbing their use, the result will be
> genocide and misery on an immense scale, and you know it.
>
> You make a claim that we are facing global warming. That is hogwash and most
> people now know that fact. It has been conclusively demonstrated that
> climate is primarily heliocentric and that we are indeed beginning a new ice
> age or at least a mini-ice age following a brief and somewhat subdued period
> of mild warming (which was very mild in comparison to the Holocene Maximum
> and even the medieval warm period) that was completely natural and cyclical,
> and indeed heliocentric in origin. Furthermore, the global warming movement
> has been exposed for the huckster’s scam that it is. Because of the lack of
> a real foundation for your claims (as well as a lack of a real conscience
> and descent character), the global warming advocates have resorted to fraud
> and criminal activity on a grand scale. This has included the fraudulent use
> of the names of non-scientists’, non-climate scientists’ names, and
> dissenting scientists names on lists that are claimed to be lists of
> supporters of the global warming claim. It has included unethical gagging of
> all dissenting voices. It has included too many forms of fraud and coercion
> for me to briefly mention.
>
> In addition to making outdated and discredited claims about global warming
> you make reference, as if it is a proven fact, and it isn’t, to peak oil.
> Peak oil is a scam! In fact, in the years since the claims that the sky is
> falling regarding the peak oil scenario, huge oil fields and reserves have
> been found off of the coast of Brazil, in Canada, Montana, and other
> locations as well as discoveries that the oil reserves in Iraq and other
> current oil fields are twice as big as previously believed. The United
> States has immense coal reserves in addition to other immense fossil fuel
> reserves. Tragically and outrageously, however, the repressive and
> nihilistic “greens” (they are really more akin to “reds”) environmentalist
> militant murderous thugs have prevented the use of most of our immense
> domestic fossil fuel sources. Soviet and later Russian engineers have made a
> very convincing case that oil is constantly renewed through abiotic
> processes, as I am sure that you are aware.
>
> You should really just admit that you have no case but that you hate other
> humans and wish to destroy them and follow in the footsteps of Hitler and
> Stalin who are apparently your role models. At any rate, your nihilistic
> and genocidal plans are coming to an end and the people are becoming aware
> of what you and your ilk really are!
>
> Sincerely,

Dear Name:

Thanks for your message, and for taking the time to pass it along. Unfortunately, I suspect I am correct about global climate change and peak oil. I have studied these issues for the last decade. Abundant evidence, in the form of models and data, support both concepts.

If you’d like to read more, please peruse the 186 essays at guymcpherson.com. While you’re there, please post comments so we can discuss your ideas in a common forum. I like to have all ideas discussed in a public forum, so we can evaluate them rationally.

Make it a great day, and thanks in advance for commenting on my blog.

Best regards,
Guy

_______________________

> Dear Professor Emeritus:
>
> You have convinced me, as well as a great many others, about the current
> dire status of Western Civilization. Your great mind is needed at this
> time. Like Einstein, you will have an everlasting imprint on mankind for
> your contributions.
>
> As the average man feels hopeless in being disarmed with an ineffective
> intellect compared to your own, we all ask what we’d do without your
> assessment of Western Civilization’s current status?
>
> Best regards,

Thanks for your high praise, Cheryl. Nobody appreciates tongue in cheek assessment as I do.

Unlike Einstein, however, the end of western civilization ensures my voice will be scattered by the winds of time. So, there really is nothing to be done. We’ve fucked the planet, and now it’s our turn to bend over. As my blog is titled, Nature Bats Last.

Best regards,
Guy

_______________________

> Mr. McPherson, You would benefit by getting out more or
> maybe getting some kind of professional help. As you should
> know, the earth has been cooling since 2000. Recent events
> have shown that the high global temps reported by NOAA are
> incorrect because of satellite problems. Sorry to disappoint you
> but the sky is not falling, the seas are not rising abnormally, the ice
> isn’t melting at the poles, the polar bears are fine. I hope you can get
> some help. There are a lot of great doctors.
>
> Yours truly

Name — Thanks for your kind concern. As a global-change scientist, I DO know Earth has been warming, despite the babble you’ve been led to believe. We have experienced the warmest decade in history within the last 10 years. The facts are clear. You might want to check them. Best regards, and make it a great day. –Guy

I’ve written all this before, but I have not recently provided a concise summary. This essay provides a brief overview of the dire nature of our predicaments with respect to fossil fuels. The primary consequences of our fossil-fuel addiction stem from two primary phenomena: peak oil and global climate change. The former spells the end of western civilization, which might come in time to prevent the extinction of our species at the hand of the latter.

Global climate change threatens our species with extinction by mid-century is we do not terminate the industrial economy soon. Increasingly dire forecasts from extremely conservative sources keep stacking up. Governments refuse to act because they know growth of the industrial economy depends (almost solely) on consumption of fossil fuels. Global climate change and energy decline are similar in this respect: neither is characterized by a politically viable solution.

There simply is no comprehensive substitute for crude oil. It is the overwhelming fuel of choice for transportation, and there is no way out of the crude trap at this late juncture in the industrial era. We passed the world oil peak in 2005, which led to near-collapse of the world’s industrial economy several times between September 2008 and May 2010. And we’re certainly not out of the economic woods yet.

Crude oil is the master material on which all other depend. Without abundant supplies of inexpensive crude oil, we cannot produce uranium (which peaked in 1980), coal (which peaks within a decade or so), solar panels, wind turbines, wave power, ethanol, biodiesel, or hydroelectric power. Without abundant supplies of inexpensive crude oil, we cannot maintain the electric grid. Without abundant supplies of inexpensive crude oil, we cannot maintain the industrial economy for an extended period of time. Simply put, abundance supplies of inexpensive crude oil is fundamental to growth of the industrial economy and therefore to western civilization. Civilizations grow or die. Western civilization is done growing.

Not only is there no comprehensive substitute for crude oil, but partial substitutes simply do not scale. Solar panels on every roof? It’s too late for that. Electric cars in every garage? Its too late for that. We simply do not have the cheap energy requisite to propping up an empire in precipitous decline. Energy efficiency and conservation will not save us, either, as demonstrated by the updated version of Jevons’ paradox, the Khazzoom-Brookes postulate.

Unchecked, western civilization drives us to one of two outcomes, and perhaps both: (1) Destruction of the living planet on which we depend for our survival, and/or (2) Runaway greenhouse and therefore the near-term extinction of our species. Why would we want to sustain such a system? It is immoral and omnicidal. The industrial economy enslaves us, drives us insane, and kills us in myriad ways. We need a living planet. Everything else is less important than the living planet on which we depend for our very lives. We act as if non-industrial cultures do not matter. We act as if non-human species do not matter. But they do matter, on many levels, including the level of human survival on Earth. And, of course, there’s the matter of ecological overshoot, which is where we’re spending all our time since at least 1980. Every day in overshoot brings us 205,000 people to deal with later. In this case, “deal with” means murder.

Shall we reduce Earth to a lifeless pile of rubble within a generation? Or shall we heat the planet beyond human habitability within two generations? Or shall we keep procreating as if there are no consequences for an already crowded planet? Pick your poison, but recognize it’s poison. We’re dead either way.

Don’t slit those wrists just yet. This essay bears good news.

Western civilization has been in decline at least since 1979, when world per-capita oil supply peaked coincident with the Carter Doctrine regarding oil in the Middle East. In my mind, and perhaps only there, these two events marked the apex of American Empire, which began about the time Thomas Jefferson — arguably the most enlightened of the Founding Fathers — said, with respect to native Americans: “In war, they will kill some of us; we shall destroy all of them.” It wasn’t long after 1979 that the U.S. manufacturing base was shipped overseas and we began serious engagement with Wall Street-based casino culture as the basis for our industrial economy. By most economic measure, we’ve experienced a lost decade, so it’s too late for a fast crash of the industrial economy. We’re in the midst of the same slow train wreck we’ve been experiencing for more than a decade, but the train is teetering on the edge of a cliff. Meanwhile, all we want to discuss, at every level in this country, is the quality of service in the dining car.

When the price of crude oil exhibits a price spike, an economic recession soon follows. Every recession since 1972 has been preceded by a spike in the price of oil, and direr spikes translate to deeper recessions. Economic dominoes began to fall at a rapid and accelerating rate when the price of crude spiked to $147.27/bbl in July 2008. They haven’t stopped falling, notwithstanding economic cheerleaders from government and corporations (as if the two are different at this point in American fascism). The reliance of our economy on derivatives trading cannot last much longer, considering the value of the derivatives — like the U.S. debt — greatly exceeds the value of all the currency in the world combined with all the gold mined in the history of the world.

Although it’s all coming down, as it has been for quite a while, it’s relatively clear imperial decline is accelerating. We’re obviously headed for full-scale collapse of the industrial economy, as indicated by these 40 statistics. Even Fortune and CNN agree economic collapse will be complete soon, though they don’t express any understanding of how we arrived at this point or the hopelessness of extracting ourselves from the morass.

We know what economic collapse looks like, because we’re in the midst of it. What does completion of the collapse look? I strongly suspect the economic endgame is capitulation of the stock markets. Shortly after we hit Dow 4,000, within a few days or maybe a couple weeks, the industrial economy seizes up as the lubricant is overcome with sand in the crankcase. Why would anybody work when the company for which they work is, literally, worthless? Even if they show up for a few days to punch the time-clock, the bank will not issue a check, and the banks won’t be open to cash it. It won’t be long before publicly traded utility companies don’t have enough employees to keep the lights on. It won’t be long before gas (nee service) stations shutter the doors. It won’t be long before the grocery stores are empty. It won’t be long before the water stops flowing through the municipal taps.

There are those who question my credibility, particularly when I make predictions. We’re in the midst of a war to save our humanity and the living planet, and some readers are worried about my credibility, as determined by the power of the main stream. My responses are two-fold: (1) I’m hardly sticking my neck out, unlike when I made my “new Dark Age” prediction in 2007 (at which point the price of oil had yet to exceed $80/bbl, the industrial economy appeared headed for perennial nirvana, and everybody who read or heard me thought I was insane); of the fifty or so energy-literate scholars I read, about half indicate the new Dark Age starts within a year, and a large majority of the other half give us less than two years; (2) Get over it. This war has two sides, finally. This revolution needs to be powerful and fun, and we cannot afford to lose. We cannot even afford to worry about seeking credibility from those who would have us are having us murder every remaining aspect of the living planet on which we depend for our survival.

Credibility? Respectability? It’s time to stop playing by the rules of the destroyers. We need witnesses and warriors, and we need them now. It’s time to terminate western civilization before it terminates us.

Lesson over. The exam comes within a couple years. And pop quizzes come up every day in this unfair system.

______________

This essay is permalinked at Counter Currents, Revelations, Islam Times, New Age Op-Ed, Island Breath, creative informationalist, Before It’s News, Mammon or Messiah research, Hot Kashmir, remedios’s posterous, and Running ‘Cause I Can’t Fly.

Update: So far, the comments at Counter Currents are absurd to the point of being humorous. But they cannot compare to the ludicrous nonsense landing in my hate-filled email in-box. Fear of the future must be driving this insanity. Similar stupidity fills the right-wing blogosphere. Google “Guy R. McPherson” for a taste.

Update 2: This essay is mentioned in the Melbourne, Australia Herald Sun, which adds one of my interviews from 2008. As usual, the comments are particularly insightful with respect to denial of both sides of the fossil-fuel coin.

Feel free to agree, disagree, or add you own to my list of best lines. What posts, and what lines, were influential for you? Which ones made you laugh out loud, cry in agony, or want to smack me up side the head? Don’t be shy; my skin is thick. Invite your friends, too. Any number can play.

Philosophy and Conservation Biology: Evolution drives us to breed, drives to procreate, and drives us to accumulate resources. Evolution always pushes us toward the brink, and culture piles on, hurling us into the abyss.

The end of civilization and the extinction of humanity: Cheap oil is fundamental to the 12,000-mile supply chain underlying the “warehouse on wheels” approach to the just-in-time delivery of cheap plastic crap.

Saving the world: a transcript for your review: We’re fish in a river, unaware that there’s an ocean, much less a landbase. If you intend to think your way out of this cultural mess, you’ll think of Nietzsche’s Overman. You’ll think of Orwell’s modest heroes. You’ll think of all the quirky, off-beat, out of touch, counter-culture contrarians you’ve ever met. You’ll think.

Whack! I’m Homo industrialis, after all. I care about me, here, now. Hell with tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to come.

Humanity at a crossroads: We’ve reached a crossroads unlike any other in human history. One path leads to despair for Homo industrialis. The other leads to extinction, for Homo sapiens and the millions of species we are taking with us into the abyss. I’ll take door number one.

Scale: Within the span of a couple generations, we abandoned a durable, finely textured, life-affirming set of living arrangements characterized by self-sufficient family farms intermixed with small towns that provided commerce, services, and culture. Worse yet, we traded that model for a coarse-scaled arrangement wholly dependent on ready access to cheap fossil fuels. Then we ratcheted up the madness to rely on businesses that use, almost exclusively, a warehouse-on-wheels approach to just-in-time delivery of unnecessary devices designed for rapid obsolescence and disposal.

Linking the past with the present: resources, land use, and the collapse of civilizations: We have ripped minerals from the Earth, often bringing down mountains in the process; we have harvested nearly all the old-growth timber on the continent, replacing thousand-year-old trees with neatly ordered plantations of small trees; we have hunted species to the point of extinction; we have driven livestock across every almost acre of the continent, baring hillsides and facilitating massive erosion; we have plowed large landscapes, transforming fertile soil into sterile, lifeless dirt; we have burned ecosystems and, perhaps more importantly, we have extinguished naturally occurring fires; we have paved thousands of acres to facilitate our movement and, in the process, have disrupted the movements of thousands of species; we have spewed pollution and dumped garbage, thereby dirtying our air, fouling our water, and contributing greatly to the warming of the planet. We have, to the maximum possible extent allowed by our intellect and never-ending desire, consumed the planet.

Apocalypse or extinction? Now I mourn because the solution is right in front of us, yet we run from it. We fail to recognize our salvation for what it is, believing it to be dystopia instead of utopia. Are we waiting for the last human on the planet to start the crusade?

Is terminating the industrial economy a moral act? We should be investing in our neighbors, as has always been true. And those neighbors aren’t just humans. They’re animals and plants, soil and water. We need to protect and honor them as we do our own children. We need to harbor them from the ravages of war, and also from an economy built on war. We need to live outside the industrial economy and within the real world of honest work, honest play, simple pleasures, and paying the consequences of our daily actions. We need to abandon a political system that takes without giving, long after it abandoned us. At the most fundamental level, we need to re-structure society so that children understand and value the origins of food, and life.

Surveying the field and charting a course: In short, civilization is only a few days removed from chaos or, if you’re an optimist like me, from anarchy. This has always been the case, for every failed civilization as well as the one left standing. With every passing day, we move further into ecological overshoot and also closer to the end of western civilization and its apex, the industrial economy. For most individual industrial humans, the end will not be welcome. But for the living planet on which we depend, and therefore our very species, the end of industry will bring a welcome relief from decades of oppression. It might even give us back our humanity while granting our species a few more decades of planetary existence.

Economic and ecological consequences of expensive oil: There is a better way. We know what it is. It’s time to give up our childish dreams and act like responsible adults. Is that too much to ask?

The risks of fiddling: Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their easy lives in the city they’ll bank on the ability of technology to bail us out of our dire economic mess. They fail to recognize that inexpensive oil is the Technomessiah. She died a few years ago, but she’s walking around, zombie-like, to save on funeral expenses. Burying a messiah isn’t cheap, you know.

________________

I have several public appearances on my schedule for September. Keep track here, and let me know if you’ll be in the neighborhood so we can meet.

And this essay isn’t about bitterness, anyway. It’s about the decisions we make in light of an ambiguous future. One of the costs of making moral choices is breaking the strong emotional ties to a prior life. My own future, if I have one, is necessarily rooted in the past. So I’ll start there, recognizing the inherent self-absorption of my approach. Which is nothing new for my regular readers.

For the better part of a decade, I was the model professor, if only from the standpoint of university administrators. I taught more courses than I was asked, completed more published research than nearly all my peers, and had an active record of service to various mainstream professional entities.

Then, realizing I had an obligation to the citizens paying me, I woke up and starting doing work of some import. As with most of the students in my classrooms, the citizens didn’t appreciate me, at least not upon initial inspection. Learning is difficult, especially when unlearning is required along the way.

I maintained abundant activity of high quality in the three expected arenas of instruction, scholarship, and service, and I added one more delicacy to my overflowing plate: social criticism. I began to write for the general public, most frequently in the form of guest commentaries in various newspapers. My first opinion piece was an accident: When the university president refused to answer the letters I sent directly to him, I sent one of the letters to the local morning daily paper, thinking they might pursue it as a news story. They published it as a guest commentary. That very day, the president of the university responded to my earlier letters. And not kindly, either.

I was hooked. For the next decade, my opinion pieces focused on various aspects of faith-based junk science, including creationism, illiteracy, denial of global climate change, and denial of limits to growth. Since most of my colleagues were (and are) swimming in the main stream, my approach allowed me to simultaneously offended my colleagues as well as the public. In addition to writing for the taxpayers, I extended my service commitment to facilities of incarceration at the request of a new and soon-to-be dear friend.

In response to my newly discovered commitment to relevancy, and although I’d been the lowest-paid faculty member at my rank in the entire college for a decade, the administration soon ramped up the pressure. It wasn’t long before I was viewed as a pariah on campus, and the dean of my college went so far as to libel me. Soon enough, I was banned from teaching in my home department and my scholarship and service were routinely denigrated.

But my students were learning to think, an aspiration reputedly revered but actually despised at all the large, research-oriented institutions with which I am familiar. Real education makes people dangerous. They might go so far as to question the obedience-at-home, oppression-abroad mentality requisite to propping up an empire. My Socratic approach was successful according to the only metric that mattered to me: real learning. The kind that sticks in your craw after you’ve fed at the trough of knowledge. The kind that gives a person the ability, courage, confidence, and desire to question the answers. The kind that changes lives, one life at a time.

Imagine the bittersweet nature of my departure. Recognizing the costs of imperialism, no longer could I tolerate living at the apex of empire, a large city. Recognizing the moral imperative of living outside the main stream, I left the easy, civilized life for a turn at self-reliance in a small community. Recognizing I was doing good work, and doing it well, was insufficient grounds to keep doing it.

I’m not sure I’d do it again, considering the contrary choice of my best friend. I certainly understand why, given a choice, many people would rather die than live outside the industrial economy. I understand, too, why most people who spend time at the mud hut depart with a renewed commitment to civilized living. After all, culture has convinced most people they have a personal investment in maintaining the industrial economy, rather than bringing it down. And it’s clear to most of my visitors that this new life of mine is tough on the mind and even tougher on the body.

Judging from the overwhelmingly negative response to my departure from the hallowed halls, I chose the perfect age to change life pursuits. All people older than my 49 years (now 50, if you’re keeping score) claim they don’t have the energy, at their advanced age, to do what I’ve done. All people younger that I claim they don’t have the money to do what I’ve done (as if they could not join others, as I have done, by necessity and choice).

Although apparently I made the right choice at the right time, getting out of the industrial economy shortly before it reaches its overdue terminus — and there is no unburning this bridge, even if I wanted to — I have lost a majority of influence I might have had (as well as a majority of the ego-stoking limelight). Suddenly those three letters behind my name have lost their power. Because I am no longer active in the academy, I am not asked to deliver seminars at other institutions. I no longer teach classes through the honors college, which was willing to put up with my wacky ideas after my home department wasn’t. I’ve moved too far away to serve populations in facilities of incarceration. And, from a strictly personal perspective, I miss the inmates and honors students with whom I was fortunate to work. I think about them and their wisdom every single day as I move endless tons of dirt, plant trees in the orchard, and make innumerable other preparations for thriving in the post-carbon era.

At the most specific level, few people face the choice I had. The proverbial brass ring of academia — the tenured faculty position — is a rare find. Once ensconced in the easy life of the ivory tower, particularly at the level of full professor — or any other position for that matter, inside or outside academia — few people would consider the implications of their lives for other humans and the entire living planet. At a more general level, I am hard-pressed to come up with any other person who would leave a high-pay, low-work job for any reason, much less morality. It occurs to me that forfeiting the easy life of tenured professor for the challenge of living outside the mainstream is the wackiest idea I’ve had yet.

Clearing the final shelf of books, I turned to the last pages of my most comprehensive piece of social criticism, Letters to a Young Academic. The words seem a fitting finale to the chapter I’ve closed:

I launch this paper boat with a final bit of advice about the life of the mind: Never take it for granted, for it could be snatched away tomorrow. The life of an academician is challenging, to be sure. It demands stamina of the mind and occasionally of the body. It requires personal sacrifice for the common good, a profession on full public display, and a predisposition to swim upstream against a strong cultural current. It is not for the faint of heart or the feeble of mind.

But the rewards are supreme. You are allowed to live a life of leisure, in the historical sense: You choose the work you do. Through the lives of your students, you experience life and death and the wonderful emotional roller coaster of youth. As such, you can choose to remain forever young, if only vicariously. You have opportunities to serve as a mentor. And, if you are worthy and fortunate, somebody might endow you with that noblest of distinctions by calling you “teacher.”

____________

This essay is permalinked at Energy Bulletin
____________

As I move toward conventional essays in this space and away from link-filled commentary, I have been posting many links about global climate change, energy decline, and economic collapse on Facebook, and I often accompany these links with pithy commentary. In the future, I’ll try to limit myself to only a couple posts each day instead of the dozen or so I’ve been cranking out. If you’d like to follow along and comment, click here.

It is easy for me to write about philosophy, conservation biology, education, global climate change, ecological collapse, economic collapse, and how to deal with all of them on a personal basis. These phenomena are pieces of ongoing reality. Facing up to them is difficult at times (as demonstrated clearly by my angst here) but, as Thomas Hardy pointed out, “If way to the better there be, it exacts a full look at the worst.” Indeed, better days lie ahead when we stop destroying every aspect of the living planet and start living as if we are a part of nature (cf. apart from nature).

Unlike the ease of my usual essays, this essay has been quite challenging to write. It responds to my email in-box, and the half-measures people can take to mitigate their misery during the completion of the ongoing economic collapse (while ignoring the moral imperative of living close to our neighbors and close to the land that supports us). I don’t believe in half-measures. Yet, as I visited San Diego and Tucson and their wide array of cultural exhibits and restaurants — where a large amount of amazingly good food can be had in exchange for the equivalent of an hour or two at minimum wage — I was forced to face my greatest fear about the future: the industrial era will persist long enough to allow industrial humans to destroy the very elements of the living planet that allow our continued existence as a species. According to this view, fossil fuels will become less and less available, but the reduction will be so gradual we will barely notice our increasing poverty (cf. this essay).

So, for the good people of Tucson, and for Angela-from-my-inbox and others like her in San Diego, I ask you to join me as I stare into the abyss. I’ll tackle the issues we face in my usual order: water, food, body temperature, and community.

Water is fundamental to human survival, so the greatest challenge we face is retaining potable water supplies. In the absence of municipal water coming through the taps, you will need to find another source of water and you will need to make it potable. Harvesting rainwater is barrels is easy enough, but you’ll have to reduce your consumption considerably (of water and nearly everything else). Fortunately, the issue of potability is resolved with relative ease. Water can be pasteurized with the power of the sun and, with a little more energy, can be boiled. Search the web using the phrase “pasteurize water” for a few quick tricks. You’ll want to invest in simple, inexpensive infrastructure while you still can.

For those of us who eat, food is another important consideration. Even if you believe we’re headed for third-world status, instead of the inability to buy food with fiat currency at the grocery store, you have to recognize what this means: limited selection and massive shortages. You’ll want to stock up on essentials while food is still inexpensive. And I strongly suggest figuring out how to grow, trap, shoot, prepare, and preserve a significant portion of your own food. You’ll want a rifle, and perhaps some traps, and the ability to use them. If all else fails, perhaps you can start making human jerky.

WordPress really needs a sarcasm tag.

Maintaining body temperature will be far more challenging in Fairbanks than Belize, which is why I recommend the latter as a place to live. But if you’re profoundly committed to your current residence, please invest in various elements of durability while they’re financially inexpensive: a metal roof and abundant insulation will go a long way toward keeping the rain at bay and also keeping your body at 98.6 F. Buy some blankets for you and the unprepared people with whom you’ll be bartering. Ditto for large garbage bags, which passably serve as raingear. The opportunities in this category are essentially limitless, and I’ve described a few of them here. Feel free to add your own in the comments section below.

A decent human community is probably less important in a world characterized by “muddling through” than in the future I foresee. After all, cheap fossil fuels have allowed us to develop comprehensive online communities instead of real ones. Still, I value communities for reason beyond survival, as I try to make clear here: “At some point, we simply lost track of the importance of communities, human and otherwise. Along the way to becoming a nation of multitasking, Twittering, Facebook ‘friends’ we abandoned the ability to connect meaningfully, viscerally, individually. If we are to thrive during the post-carbon era, we’ll need to create groups of straight-talking, look-’em-in-the-eye, mean-what-you-say, say-what-you-mean, self-reliant, individuals who are not afraid to ask for help from the neighbors and who, when asked, readily offer assistance.”

If you’re committed to your human community, you’ll want to stock up on items certain to be less commonly available in the near future than today. In addition to water (and the ability to purify it), food (and the seeds to grow more), and the previously mentioned blankets, medicine comes to mind. Two recent essays focus on simple antibiotics, which likely will not seem so simple in the coming years: they are linked here and here.

It’s not just antibiotics, of course. The possibilities are endless. If you wear glasses, buy several pair. To prevent your prescription from changing, invest in gas-permeable (i.e., “hard”) contact lenses and adapt to wearing them. Visit the dentist and get your teeth fixed. Store toothpaste and floss. Take a relevant class or two. And so on, ad nauseum, until you feel comfortable entering a world in which availability of goods and services is limited. And, if that’s too challenging, get rid of your taboos about marriage and hook up with a medical doctor, a dentist, and a pharmacist. While you’re at it, you might want to add a marksman, a permaculturist, and a really good shaman.

Above all, you’ll need the comfort of knowing politicians are acting in the best interests of the people they represent. You’ll need to convince yourself that the ongoing attempts by Obama and Bernanke (and Bush and Greenspan before them) are working. You’ll need to convince yourself that plugging every leak in the dam actually takes pressure off the dam, that the dam will not break because of temporary patches. Ultimately, you’ll have to convince yourself that American empire will last forever, and is not an empire.

Good luck with that.

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This essay is permalinked at Island Breath.
____________

As I move toward conventional essays in this space and away from link-filled commentary, I have been posting many links about global climate change, energy decline, and economic collapse on Facebook, and I often accompany these links with pithy commentary. If you’d like to follow along and comment, click here.

But this brief post is not about my conference presentation. It’s about my visit to Chicago.

As long as I’m flying in and out of Chicago, I would like to interact with one or more audiences beyond the conference. I will extend my trip by a day to interact with your group if you’ll pay for my lodging on the night of Tuesday, 28 September and also buy me supper that night. It doesn’t matter how large the group or how nice the digs.

I’ll sleep in your guest bedroom and dine at your table if you’ll find people interested in my message. If you’re interested, please post a comment below or send me an email message at grm@ag.arizona.edu. If more than one person responds — which seems unlikely — we’ll work out something.

I am flexible about the details. If you prefer a seminar presentation, find me a room and an audience. If you prefer an informal meal with a dozen of your friends, make the reservation. If you prefer to discuss the details about a durable set of living arrangements on your property, set aside time to talk and provide transportation to the site.

This is a limited-time offer, not available in any store. I will make airline reservations for this trip within the next two weeks. If you’re interested in hosting me in or near the windy city, please respond promptly.

Immorality aside, there is a risk. The risk comes in two flavors. One flavor is the opportunity cost of abandoning the empire too soon. The other flavor is the bitterness that comes when you realize you waited too long to abandon the empire, and you are suffering and then dying as a result. And surrounded by a bunch of ugly boxes we call suburbia, no less.

If you abandon the empire too early — before the lights go out, before the shelves are bare in the grocery stores, before the water stops coming out the municipal taps — you’ll forgo some of those imperial fruits. On the other hand, you’ll be ahead of the curve with respect to self reliance, you might ingratiate yourself into your community, and you’ll learn how to live on little. We’re all headed that way, with the ongoing economic collapse likely to be reach your house within two years and perhaps much earlier.

The second risk is the larger one, and also the more tempting one. It is based on your proclivity for dining on the fruits of empire a bit too long. I hate to get biblical, considering my beliefs, but if you hang on to the easy life in the city too long, the wages of sin is (sic) death. To take a more secular approach drawn from popular culture, try this line from No Country for Old Men: “This country’s hard on people, you can’t stop what’s coming, it ain’t all waiting on you. That’s vanity.”

So far, this country’s been very easy on people (especially Caucasians), one of the consequences of ready access to inexpensive oil. But that’s changing, and it’s about to change much faster. You can either get in front of the changes or you can let them roll over you. Think steamroller, and you’re a duck in a leg-hold trap.

photo courtesy of iStockphoto.com

Would you trade your human community for an online community? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their 16 daily hours on Facebook they’ll gladly sacrifice human interaction for the joy of electrons. They will be hammering away at the keyboard long after their “friends” stop answering, long after the batteries run dry in the laptop, long after the grid has failed. Waiting, waiting, waiting until there’s nothing left to wait for.

Would you trade virtual reality for reality? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their television shows they’ll willingly sacrifice human interaction for the feel-good dumbassery of television characters. They will be wondering what happened to their “friends” on television long after the television blinks out for the final time. Then they’ll wait for a studly hero to save them. He’ll be otherwise occupied.

Would you give up living because you fear the future? Some people with whom I speak are so unwilling to give up the notion of marauding hordes they’ll turn away from personal preparations for a decent future because they fear their preparations will be insufficient. Such a decision thus becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: The collective unwillingness to prepare . We make our own futures, albeit constrained by reality. But some people with whom I speak are unwilling to make changes in light of a changing world, thereby ensuring change will happen to them instead of with them.

Would you trade your life for health medical care? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their employment “benefits” they will work until the industrial age ends. And then work a while longer, hoping insurance will cover their trip to the clinic for a flu shop. All the clinics will be closed.

Would you trade your life for a night on the town? For me, it would have to me a helluva night. Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up eclectic and inexpensive (sic) restaurants and nightclubs they’ll keep their date with Destiny’s Child, thus sealing their own destiny.

Would you trade your life for a few bucks? How about for a lot of bucks? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their puts and contracts in the markets — after all, there’s serious bling to be made off their expansive knowledge of peak oil and the financial markets — they will be trying to make money off their next trade long after the lights go out, thus precluding electronic trading in the belly of Wall Street’s beast.

Would you trade your life for the industrial economy? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up inexpensive (sic) groceries they are waiting until the industrial economy finishes its collapse. Then they’ll move. Or, more likely, they won’t.

Would you risk your life on the Technomessiah? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up their easy lives in the city they’ll bank on the ability of technology to bail us out of our dire economic mess. They fail to recognize that inexpensive oil is the Technomessiah. She died a few years ago, but she’s walking around, zombie-like, to save on funeral expenses. Burying a messiah isn’t cheap, you know.

Would you risk your life on the government? Any government? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up a high standard of living at low (sic) cost they’ll count on the ability of the government to keep the current game going toys and jobs coming, courtesy of American Empire and its militaristic reach.

image courtesy of fas.org

Would you trade your sense of humanity — your ability to become a human animal in the real world — for meaningless chit-chat at the water cooler? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up interpersonal interactions in the workplace they’ll gladly forgo the wonder of the human experience in a human community. They willingly, gladly, purposely hang onto a murderous way of living in exchange for the good life.

Would you risk the lives of your progeny, and all future humans, for the comfort of inexpensive (sic) fossil fuels? Some people with whom I speak are so reluctant to give up happy motoring and central air conditioning they’ll gladly ignore the cultures and species we destroy on our imperial path. By their actions, if not by their words, they demand a personal IV of cheap oil, just as this country mainlines crude.

What will it take before you notice the warning shots? If you think the empire cannot fall within a couple years, you’re reading a different set of tea leaves than the dozens of petroleum geologists, social critics, thought leaders, writers, historians, and economists to whom I’ve been paying attention.

What will it take before you notice the moral imperative? I’m not thinking about the morality of attending church services or donating to the community food bank; rather, I’m thinking about the real costs of everyday choices based on cheap living within the mainstream culture of the industrial economy.

What will it take before you begin preparations for a world of your own making? The real world awaits, beyond the edge of empire. And if you don’t think the United States represents an empire, then I don’t think you understand the meaning of the word.

Rome is burning. Why are you fiddling?

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This essay is dedicated to the many people who will die in ignorance, apathy, or continued pursuit of the American nightmare. It is permalinked at Counter Currents, Island Breath, CFB483, and Insurance Today.

Dan has been busy writing. You can read his own essays here.

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Thanks to my brother for letting me know about the article in the Spokesman-Review.

Here in the homeland, we peaked in 1970 and we extract relatively little oil on land or at sea. BP’s 100-million-barrel reservoir off the coast of Alaska — er, rather, on a BP-constructed island, and therefore not offshore at all — will meet U.S. demand for less than a week. Meanwhile, long-time swing supplier Saudi Arabia is turning off the tap. So much for satiating our infinite desires with limitless oil from the Middle East. Even the International Energy Agency forecasts demand in excess of world supply.

As world oil supply has fallen, the price has exceeded $80 per barrel twice in recent history. Both events were followed shortly thereafter by sovereign-debt crises in several countries. We’ll likely cross the $80 threshold again soon, even as the industrial economy continues to nosedive. Considering the debt-related economic pain in Europe despite throwing money at the issue (i.e., papering over the economic mess), Keynesian economics makes no sense at all. The printing press hasn’t been sufficient in the U.S., either, and it’s the one-size-fits-all solution of the Obama/Bernanke team. This is the typical government approach: If it ain’t broke, fix it until it is.

I’m not suggesting the debt-based approach hasn’t been broken for a long time. But every attempt to “fix” the industrial economy represents a boondoggle atop a boondoggle, with every one destined for failure at a faster rate than the prior one. Helicopter Ben has created half the U.S. money in history within the last four years even as the money supply continues to crash. On one hand, states want more federal stimulus (i.e., keep the presses running) as the head into a second-half economic tsunami with no clue how to deal with it. On the other hand, pressure is building to stop or slow the printing presses, but it’s already too late: We cannot possibly pay off the current U.S. debt, so — from the perspective of Bernanke and Obama — there’s no point in slowing the presses now, despite ludicrous, vacuous threats from various factions of the tea party. Meanwhile, the sheeple are growing frustrated as they wonder where the jobs went and why the industrial economy remains in the abattoir. Nobody in a position of influence has the guts to tell them about energy decline and its economic consequences; even if anybody with the ear of the people were talking about it, the hyper-indulgent sheeple wouldn’t have the guts to listen, much less act on the knowledge.

Hyperinflation might be on the way, despite the crash in cash. At the very least, the near future will bring increased volatility and a host of economic woes.

The water is boiling around us and, like frogs, we’re failing to notice. Unlike frogs, we have the ability to see what’s going on, and how it’s killing us, but we prefer the culture of make believe over reality. So we pretend we’re immersed in an imperial spa. Fever? What fever? I just need another drink. Apparently the cancer of industrial culture removes cognitive capacity before it kills the host.

Continuing to pretend won’t help the dire situation on the housing front. As it turns out, housing and energy definitely are not too big to fail. Despite out best efforts to ignore reality, echoes of the Great Depression abound. As housing prices continue to decline, Americans lose the ability to use their homes as ATMs. As oil prices continue to increase, aftershocks continue to rumble through the system, with more quakes on the way.

And it’s not just housing and oil. The collapse in commercial real estate is fully under way, banks are withholding information from the federal government because they dare not open their books in the light of day, another credit crunch lies right out the corner because nothing about the financial system has changed since the last crisis of confidence, and bond vigilantes are coming to America and therefore to the world’s reserve currency.

Plenty of people here in the empire think there are alternatives to oil, thus failing to distinguish derivatives from alternatives. These derivatives will never pay their way, of course, much less serve as anything resembling a comprehensive substitute to crude oil. And without abundant liquid fuels, we cannot grow the industrial economy.

Other folks believe hydropower will keep the lights on in their neighborhood, without working through the consequences of capitulation of the stock markets. Why would the engineers and technicians keep showing up to run the electrical plant if they aren’t getting paid, either because all the banks fail or their employer’s stock is worthless?

Too little, too late, Bill Gates is urging us to spend billions on an energy revolution. But he’s not spending his billions on it, probably because he knows the fossil-fuel party is over.

As a result of running out of inexpensive oil on the way to passing the world oil peak in 2005, we witnessed an oil shock in 2008 that nearly brought the industrial economy screeching to a halt. Chief Executive Officer of insurance giant Lloyds warns of another price spike headed our way, and I cannot imagine the industrial machine of planetary death surviving oil priced at the expected $200 per barrel.

Source: EIA Annual Energy Outlook 2009

But I’m an optimist, as I’ve pointed out before. I think we can terminate the industrial economy before we move the assault from the Gulf on our southern border to the wholesale destruction of interior lands on our northern border even as it becomes increasingly clear the tar sands will not meet expectations. The events in the Gulf of Mexico illustrate an important point: As my detractors have been saying for years, we really are awash in a sea of oil. Are you happy now?

The disaster in the Gulf provides a perfect opportunity for the dead hand of Ronald Reagan to rise in the form of judicial activism. This pattern is blatantly apparent in the Supreme Court and all lower courts and is consistent with the notion that the right-wing thought police have taken over this country.

In support of my omnipresent optimism, historian Niall Ferguson has added his voice to the large and growing chorus predicting the collapse of U.S. empire by the end of 2012. If we cease to kill the industrial economy, it will continue to kill the living planet and all of us who depend upon it. Either way — with imperial collapse or reduction of Earth to a lifeless pile of rubble — we can stop worrying about power politics. As should be evident to any reader by now, I prefer a robustly living planet over a dying or dead one. As should be equally apparent to any sentient being, I don’t have much company on this particular point.

The economic endgame is rearing its head. The stock markets are headed down — way down — with a monster shock headed their way. One plausible scenario has collapse of the bond market following collapse of the stock markets. But at Dow zero, you’ll be a lot more worried about feeding your children than the rate of return on your bonds.

Meanwhile, out in the dying murdered Gulf of Mexico, BP has claimed success. Calls for a boycott will fade away and clueless Americans will continue to display an inordinate capacity for cognitive dissonance as they continue to demand abundant cheap oil even while throwing the occasional tantrum at Exxon-Mobile BP corporations providing our drug of choice. You might go so far as to call this yet another example of American psychosis.

Will human life be wiped out by events in the Gulf of Mexico? In a word, no. We’re taking quite an impressive toll on the entire planet, but destroying our entire species with only the tools we’ve developed during the last two centuries will take more than a few years, our vaunted technological prowess notwithstanding. The Titanic of ecological overshoot has crashed into the iceberg of limited oil, leading to a painfully slow descent of the industrial economy. The descent is painful because it allows us to keep the current game going, re-arranging the deck chairs as we head straight for a rapid decline in the human population in the wake of a devastated Earth.

There is a better way. We know what it is. It’s time to give up our childish dreams and act like responsible adults. Is that too much to ask?