The trouble with the impending collapse of the current way in which we live, regardless of political creeds, and the almost-certain descent into environmental oblivion, most of us westerners think we’ll survive.
We think it will be like the movies: a plucky little band of everyday heroes, winning out and remaking civilization.
And it might well turn out that way. It might well be that a few thousand widely scattered groups of humans will live on and slowly repopulate the species.
It isn’t terribly likely, but it is possible.
But the problem is, it is 99.9% probable that you won’t be one of those few thousand.
Every white western male is the hero of their own mind, but the bare fact is that you’re going to die, and very likely, in the first wave of collapse.
People in other, less well-developed countries might be more likely to squeak through, simply because they are accustomed to living on the edge and will recognize the need to move themselves, even perpetually, in order to find safety.
Our mindset, on the other hand, will be first to try bullying and battling our way through – we will almost certainly drop some bombs and contribute even further to the problem.
By the time it occurs to most of us that where we live is no longer livable, well, where will we go?
What countries will have us, after all the screaming about “illegal immigrants” and so on?
They’ll have their own people to see to, after all.
You, personally, will not be defending the homestead with nothing more than a 12-gauge shotgun and your iron nerves, not for long. There will always be someone else more sociopathic and violent out there, who will kill you, and then someone else will kill them, ad infinitum – always assuming you don’t just expire from septicemia from a paper cut because you refused to vaccinate, and all the doctors are dead.
You, personally, won’t be feeding your family with the backyard garden, regardless of how great you are at rearing hybrid tea roses, because the very definition of human- induced climate changes are first and foremost that the weather will be different and extreme, the soil will be contaminated, and the air will be foul. (Also, even if it worked for the first few seasons, you do know that soil, when intensively farmed, becomes exhausted, and won’t grow stuff, right?)
You will not be out there re-opening shut-in oil wells and selling fuel to bands of bondage-fetishists roaming the desolation on ornate dune-buggies. You will not emerge from your underground bunker after a year or three, to establish a Brave New World based on what your sensei taught you in karate class when you were twelve.
You. Will. Be. Dead.
Your. Children. Will. Be. Dead.
These are the facts.
It’s time to stop treating all of this as some kind of autobiographical cinematic caper, and actually do something about it.