Self-Reliance Secession Emigration Tax Refusal Draft Resistance Drugs Suicide

There are many strategies for dealing with the approaching collapse or contraction of the modern industrial world. Some will build lifeboats, some will try to redirect our overgrown civilization, some will even try to move the icebergs out of the way, and some will try a combination of responses. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that the sinking of the Titanic is inevitable. If the unpredictable course of human history is any guide, the relative merits of the various ways to opt out involve some conjecture. We leave that judgment to you. – Editors Background Information for Building Lifeboats Powerdown: Options and Actions for a Post-Carbon World by Richard Heinberg We live in a time in which several "storms" are colliding, as in the book and movie The Perfect Storm.... These problems are related to one another in complex, often mutually reinforcing ways. Taken together, they constitute the most severe challenge our species has ever faced. They represent not merely a likely culmination of human history, in their ongoing and potential environmental impacts, they also may collectively signal one of the most momentous events of geological time. We have already overshot Earth's long-term carrying capacity for humans – and have drawn down essential resources – to such an extent that some form of societal collapse (a substantial reduction in social complexity) is now inevitable. Historians will likely view the period from roughly 1800 to 2000 as the growth phase of industrial civilization, and the period from 2000 to 2100 or 2200 as its contraction or collapse phase. We are in deep trouble, and it is essential that we understand the nature of the trouble we are in. The four principal options available to industrial societies during the next few decades are: Last One Standing – The path of competition for remaining resources. Powerdown – The path of cooperation, conservation, and sharing. Waiting for a Magic Elixir – Wishful thinking, false hopes, and denial. Building Lifeboats – The path of community solidarity and preservation. .......... It would be important to keep scientific knowledge about how ecosystems function, or about chemistry, physics, astronomy, geology, and geography. The survivors will have to establish seed banks to preserve the genetic heritage from millennia of bioregionally-adapted agriculture. Perhaps the single most important thing to conserve for future generations would be the moral lesson inherent in the growth and collapse of industrial civilization. Nature is teaching us once again. None of this may happen, however, if groups do not begin now to invest in acquiring the skills and infrastructure necessary. The sooner we build our lifeboats, the better off we will be. A Letter from the Future by Richard Heinberg At first, most people thought the shortages could be solved with "technology." However, in retrospect that's quite ludicrous. After all, their modern gadgetry had been invented to use a temporary abundance of energy. It didn't produce energy. .......... Their pathetic faith in technology turned out to be almost religious in character, as though their gadgets were votive objects connecting them with an invisible but omnipotent god capable of overturning the laws of thermodynamics. .......... Gradually, a new metaphor became operational. We went from global casino to village flea market. .......... Climate change has been a real problem for growing food, and for just getting by. You never know from one year to the next what swarms of unfamiliar insects will show up. For a year or two or three, all we get is rain. Then there's drought for the next five or six. It's much worse than a nuisance; it's life-threatening. That's just one of the factors that has led to the dramatic reduction in human population during this past century. .......... Starting many decades ago, people began – by necessity – to learn how to grow their own food. Not everyone was successful, and there was a lot of hunger. One of the frustrating things was the lack of good seeds. Oil Gone by R. V. Scheide Morality in an Overcrowded Lifeboat: The William Brown Disaster and the Post-Industrial World by Jerry Abbott The behavior of people in a situation of extreme scarcity, and the moral response to it, is the raw area where philosophy most closely joins with natural science. The story of the shipwreck of the William Brown, of Philadelphia, USA, and sailing from Liverpool, England, in March 1841, is one that nearly all priests and ministers like to tell, even if they don't know the story in detail, and even if the moral lesson they attempt to draw is the wrong one. The ship hit an iceberg and sank. The ship's jollyboat (commanded by Cpt. George L. Harris) and its longboat (commanded by ship's mate Frances Rhodes) were both crowded, the longboat dangerously so. In addition, the longboat was leaking due to its excessive weight, which portended the death of everyone aboard. The commanders of both boats decided to head for a landing in Newfoundland. It became clear that the longboat would not go far unless it were made lighter. So the mate and some of his sailors started throwing some of the others overboard, both passengers and crew, but chiefly targeting males for getting the toss. .......... Remember the story about two men, running from a bear, and one man stops to change from his dress shoes into his running shoes. The other man, confused, stops running too. The bear is getting closer and closer. "Why are you changing your shoes now?" asks the confused man. "Because," says the other, "I just realized that I don't need to outrun the bear. I only need to outrun you." .......... I reviewed the story of the William Brown disaster because it is very similar in some ways to the approaching apocalyptic end of the industrial age. The world will be an overcrowded lifeboat, and it won't be possible for everyone to survive. The survivor to sacrifice ratio for the William Brown's longboat was 1.28. Somewhat more people lived than died. That same ratio for the apocalypse will be much lower: only about 0.05. For each survivor, there will be 20 deaths. That's where capitalism has taken us, Ayn Rand. The Tarpaper Raft by Richard Heinberg Imagine yourself in the following circumstance. You have just awakened from sleep to find yourself on a tarpaper raft floating away from shore. With you on the raft are a couple of hundred people, most of whom seem completely oblivious to their situation. They are drinking beer, barbecuing ribs, fishing, or sleeping. You look at the rickety vessel and say to yourself, "My God, this thing is going to sink any second!" Miraculously, seconds go by and it is still afloat. You look around to see who's in charge. The only people you can find who appear to have any authority are some pompous-looking characters operating a gambling casino in the middle of the raft. In back of them stand heavily armed soldiers. You point out that the raft appears dangerous. They inform you that it is the safest and most wonderful vessel ever constructed, and that if you persist in suggesting otherwise the guards will exercise their brand of persuasion on you. You back away, smiling, and move to the edge of the raft. At this point, you're convinced (and even comment to a stranger next to you) that, with those idiots at the helm, the raft can't last more than another minute or so. A minute goes by and still the damn thing is afloat. You turn your gaze out to the water. You notice now that the raft is surrounded by many sound-looking rowboats, each carrying a family of indigenous fishers. Men on the raft are systematically forcing people out of the rowboats and onto the raft at gunpoint, and shooting holes in the bottoms of the rowboats. This is clearly insane behavior: the rowboats are the only possible sources of escape or rescue if the raft goes down, and taking more people on board the already overcrowded raft is gradually bringing its deck even with the water line. You reckon that there must now be as many as four hundred souls aboard. At this rate, the raft is sure to capsize in a matter of seconds. A few seconds elapse. You can see and feel water lapping at your shoes, but amazingly enough the raft itself is still afloat, and nearly everyone is still busy eating, drinking, or gambling (indeed, the activity around the casino has heated up considerably). You hear someone in the distance shouting about how the raft is about to sink. You rush in the direction of the voice only to see its source being tossed unceremoniously overboard. You decide to keep quiet, but think silently to yourself, "Jeez, this thing can't last more than another couple of minutes! What the hell should I do?" You notice a group of a dozen or so people working to patch and reinforce one corner of the raft. This, at least, is constructive behavior, so you join in. But it's not long before you realize that the only materials available to do the patching with are ones cannibalized from elsewhere on the raft. Even though the people you're working with clearly have the best of intentions and are making some noticeable improvements to the few square feet on which they've worked, there is simply no way they can render the entire vessel "sustainable," given its size, the amount of time required, and the limited availability of basic materials. You think to yourself that there must be some better solution, but can't quite focus on one. As you stand there fretting, a couple of minutes pass. You realize that every one of your predictions about the fate of the raft has been disconfirmed. You feel useless and silly. You are about to make the only rational deductions – that there must be some mystical power keeping the raft afloat, and that you might as well make the most of the situation and have some barbecue – when a thought comes to you: The "sustainability" crowd has the right idea ... except that, as they rebuild their corner of the raft, they should make it easily detachable, so that when the boat as a whole sinks they can simply disengage from it and paddle toward shore. But then, what about the hundreds of people who won't be able to fit onto this smaller, reconditioned raftlet? You notice now that there is a group of rafters grappling with the soldiers who've been shooting holes in rowboats. Maybe, if some of the rowboats and their indigenous occupants survive, then the scope of the impending tragedy can be reduced. But direct confrontation with the armed guards appears to be a dangerous business, since many of the protesters are being shot or thrown into the water. You continue working with the sustainability group, since they seem to have the best understanding of the problem and the best chances of survival. At the same time, your sympathies are with the protesters and the fisher families. You hope and pray that this is all some nightmare from which you will soon awaken, or that there is some means of escape – for everyone – that you haven't seen yet.