Progressives’ Vaccine Mandate Meltdown

Three people have sent me links to Paul Kingsnorth‘s recent two-part diatribe opposing vaccines and vaccine mandates. Two of them said they were persuaded by his argument. Here’s what I replied to them:

“The Vaccine Moment” is a warmed-over op-ed, driven by fear, poorly thought out, and pretty much fact-free. You know, like a Thomas Friedman piece.

I respect your opinion, and Paul Kingsnorth’s, though not without great sadness.

My viewpoints and decisions on CoVid-19 are informed by the science, in particular by the work of epidemiologists, a number of whom I worked with for two years with the Ontario Ministry of Health during the aftermath of the SARS pandemic, preparing for the “next” pandemic, which we are now struggling with.

I have no love of government bureaucracies, and even less for “law enforcement” agencies. But I believe absolutely in the wisdom of getting vaccinated, including getting a booster now, not only for my own protection but for the protection of my fellow citizens.

When Paul Kingsnorth says “It is [a] fact that these vaccines, whatever their efficacy in other areas, do not prevent transmission of the virus”, he is simply wrong, and in saying that he is spreading misinformation. The facts are:

  • Vaccines drastically reduce the likelihood of being infected, and, even when a vaccinated person is infected, they are dramatically less likely to infect others because their body produces much less of the virus.
  • When you are vaccinated, the probability of getting infected (and hence possibly getting chronic Long Covid diseases) is much lower, the probability of being hospitalized even if you do get infected is much lower, and the probability of dying if you are hospitalized is much lower.

On that basis, I have been double vaxxed and boosted, and did so as soon as I was able to and without hesitation or concern. We have a century of experience with vaccines, their development, and their risks. The risk is not zero, but is much lower than the risk of not being vaccinated.

My opinion on that is completely unconnected to my opinions on government oppression, or on what steps should be taken when people refuse to get vaccinated. Those are political issues, and they should not be muddied with the scientific issue of whether vaccination is effective.

I know people of colour, and people who are poor and/or sick, and the way they are treated by government and law enforcement and health agencies is deplorable. They have every justification in distrusting people and systems which have never done a thing for them except to label and harass them. I still encourage them to get vaccinated, because it is the informed and morally appropriate thing to do, not because if they don’t they’re going to end up in some “camp”.

For the same reason, I wear seat belts and I don’t drink and drive, because it is the informed and morally appropriate thing to do, not because I fear being arrested if I fail to comply.

Am I concerned about overreach by the rich and powerful in the exercise of control over citizens? Of course. We have been propagandized and conditioned by the rich and powerful all our lives to act in their interests (go to school, don’t challenge authority, go to work, be a ‘responsible’ adult ie responsible consumer, accept that corporations have the same rights as citizens, pretend you live in an actual democracy, do what you’re told, obey the rules etc). That’s ghastly, and it’s getting worse.

But to conflate this outrageous abuse of power with a belief that vaccines that happen to have been developed and urged by the powerful are evil by association, is just muddle-headed thinking, and it has largely created the horrible mess we’re in right now.

But we believe what we want to believe, and no one can change what we want to believe.

Paul is a brilliant thinker and has done some excellent research and writing on collapse and how we might best prepare for and/or cope with it. But when it comes to epidemiology he knows diddly-squat, and his spreading of misinformation on vaccines is, in a way, an abuse of the power he has acquired by virtue of his recognition as a leading thinker on collapse. He’s not alone — collapsniks from The Automatic Earth to Dmitry Orlov to Charles Eisenstein to Jim Kunstler have gone down the same path, pontificating on epidemiology when they know nothing about it. Doing a little personal research does not make you a credible expert on anything.

That’s my rant. I’m immensely disappointed in Paul’s articles, and in Dmitry’s and Ilargi’s and Charles’ and Jim’s. They are a sign of the madness that accelerating collapse is inflicting on all of us. We are no longer thinking clearly. We have given up on the truth as even something that exists, and are now reacting purely with our emotions, following the same pattern as the Trumpists and the other neo-fascists. It does not bode well for our capacity to deal with the catastrophic crises we are just beginning to witness.

As you probably know, I don’t believe we have free will or control over what we believe or what we do. So while I am disappointed, I am not surprised, and don’t blame anyone for their particular way of acting out their distress over what is happening. We’re all doing our best. What that will lead to, is anyone’s guess.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 13 Comments

How the New Fascists Finally Won the Propaganda War


Dmitry Muratov, Russian journalist and co-winner of the 2021 Nobel Peace Prize, has expressed concerns about the world’s slide into fascism. Image by Elena Anosova for The New Yorker.

We humans are pretty easy to manipulate. We want to believe things are simple and understandable. We want to believe things are under control. We want to believe in “good guys” and “bad guys” and that we are, after all, the “good guys” and hence destined to win in the end. We want to believe that our “peeps” are right, so we tend to believe what those we trust tell us. We want to believe in the inevitability of progress, if we’re willing to work for it.  Most of all, we want to believe that things will be better for our children than they were for us.

And so we believe what we want to believe. And we are suckers for stories. Tell us one moving story that reinforces our beliefs, and we’ll gladly discount a terabyte of data that refutes them. That’s our nature. That’s how we make sense of things. That’s how we cope with the horrific and relentless stresses and fears of modern life. For whatever strange reason, that has proved to be a successful evolutionary strategy.

And, understandably, we want to be “free”. That doesn’t mean most of us want anarchy. We want other people to take most of the responsibility for looking after things, especially when the scope and complexity of things seems increasingly onerous. But we want them to be responsible, and to do the work, according to our instructions. If the people we delegate responsibility to don’t follow our instructions, don’t believe the same things we believe, then we feel we are not “free”. But if they do, then we believe we’re “free”, and we accept the limitations that living in a complex world controlled by us “good guys” requires.

And finally, we want to be safe — free from existential danger and fear.

For more than half a century, I have been studying what this means for human civilizations. I learned how populists, under a variety of authoritarian and anti-democratic banners, have so often propagandized people through fear, misinformation and disinformation, into believing the same things they did, and into ignoring the atrocities they committed. Stalin, Hitler and Mao, between them, killed over 150 million people in the last century, and, while they were feared, they were also immensely popular. They galvanized the majority of the population around opposition to perceived common enemies, enemies that were already distrusted, and then they recruited them to go to war against those enemies in defence of their common beliefs.

Fascism is defined as “standing for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition.” Doesn’t sound very “free”, unless you’ve been propagandized to believe that that autocracy is fighting a powerful enemy that has robbed you of your freedom and safety, and that the dictator is one of you, one of the “good guys” trying to restore your freedom and safety.

Moneyed, colonial, imperialistic interests successfully controlled, oppressed and exploited most of the world for their personal gain from before the dawn of the industrial era, until the early 20th century. It was only really then that the information age seemed to began to awaken people to their subjugation. The emergence of new media set off a power struggle over the instruments of propaganda that were used to keep the people ignorant and in thrall. The result was the bloodiest century in human history.

When the dust settled in the middle of that century, there had been an astonishing shift in knowledge and power. A large proportion of the population was now going to university, and being exposed to ideas that threatened the existing power structure. The New Deal had dramatically redistributed wealth and power to the working class. The witch hunts of “communists” in the 1950s, instead of re-establishing repression of the enemies of the ruling castes, turned into a PR disaster. Students by the millions were allowed to demonstrate against the imperialists’ wars with virtual impunity. The dominant castes were losing their edge.

Something had to be done. So the ruling castes began what has become a long and enormously successful propaganda campaign to win back the hearts and minds of the belligerent, disobedient under-castes, through a three-pronged strategy:

  1. Control the media to propagate misinformation and disinformation
  2. Divide and conquer — figure out how to pit the working castes and the liberal castes against themselves and against each other to neutralize them
  3. Give up the moral high ground — the end justifies the means

The objective was to restore the power of the ruling castes, and enable the re-oppression of the under-castes. In other words, to restore the old order. This was achieved through trial and error starting in the Reagan/Thatcher era, intensified during the Cheney/Bush era, and has been finalized during the Trump era, which is still ongoing.

To reiterate: This is all about power, and who has it. Political ideology is just a smokescreen, a means of manipulating and shifting power.

The obvious model for the ruling castes to use was the fascist-populist model employed so effectively by Stalin, Hitler and Mao. The key to implementing this model was to systematically undermine public confidence in government, public institutions, and the media. Fascists had seized and kept power by convincing opponents that no one could be trusted, but that they (the fascists) had the backs of the “common man”. Its modern manifestation is Norquist’s vision of making government so small “you can drown it in a bathtub”.

But theirs is not an anti-authoritarian, anarchistic, libertarian utopia. By “government”, the fascists mean the democratic institutions of government that distribute wealth and power and are subject to the whims of popular opinion. Under the new fascists’ vision, power would not be transferred from pseudo-democratic governments to the people; but rather to the unelected, ruling caste elite (including the military-industrial-security apparatus) which had dominated for centuries before it had been disrupted by institutional and educational reforms, and the power of new media, in the early 20th century.

And they have accomplished this quite spectacularly over the past half-century. Suspicion and distrust of government has never been so high. Public institutions in health, education and other sectors focused on the common good have been starved to the point of total dysfunction, destroying their effectiveness, credibility and reputation. Progressive taxes have been eliminated, and the reputations of tax authorities destroyed. Inequality of wealth and power has reached staggering, obscene levels exceeding even those of the Robber Baron era.

How was this accomplished?

Giving up the moral high ground meant that it was now perfectly fine for the new fascists to use their bought-and-paid-for media to propagate deliberate and carefully orchestrated lies to further their aims, even as they repeated the myth of “liberal” media. So, for example, while there is no longer any controversy that the justification for the Iraq War was completely fabricated to suit the military-industrial-security apparatus, Big Oil, and anti-Arab imperialists, there have been no absolutely no consequences for anyone who participated in this deliberate, egregious, and staggeringly-costly lie. We all know who lied, and why. The end justified the means.

Goebbels famously said that if you tell people lies often enough they’ll eventually come to believe them, and this tactic is now a standard part of the new fascists’ playbook. It’s been used to extraordinary effect in the campaigns to deny climate collapse, to deny the current pandemic, and to deny the effectiveness and safety of vaccines. Of course, decades of fear-mongering about government, and starving and undermining the credibility of public institutions, made this all pretty easy.

The “divide and conquer” strategy began by smearing labour unions, spreading lies about wholesale abuse of public medical, environmental and social security programs, and fear-mongering in small towns about crime in multi-ethnic cities. In two short decades the non-urban working castes were wrenched away from their support for progressive political parties and government support programs, and are now staunchly allied with the new fascists’ anti-government, anti-regulatory, anti-democratic, and anti-public-services agendas.

Dividing and conquering progressives was a bit trickier, but not by much. The new fascists started with the libertarian and anarchist segment of progressives, exploiting their innate fear and distrust of governments to the point they could be convinced that anything done by government was suspect: 9/11 was an inside job, governments are building prison camps and gulags to round up dissidents, troops are being used as guinea pigs to test dangerous new drugs and vaccines, governments want to surveil everything and everyone and have recruited Bill Gates to implant chips in us all, etc. I bought a lot of these arguments for many years until I realized who really benefited from their widespread acceptance. And that they didn’t make sense.

So now we have a situation where new fascist regimes have been installed in states from Texas to Florida and beyond (including an increasing number of countries around the world), offering, for example, huge bounties to vigilantes to rat on their fellow citizens if they seek abortions or buy abortion pills through the mail. States where voter suppression, gerrymandering and other anti-democratic laws are being institutionalized to ensure that only the new fascist party can ever win. Where systemic racism, misogyny and homophobia are being formally and “legally” legitimized. Where new fascists buy their children machine guns for Christmas and encourage them to use them to intimidate people who “aren’t like us”. And no one, least of all the new fascist US supreme court, is stopping these regimes from taking ever-more-extreme, dangerous, and hate- and violence-inciting laws and actions.

So what are progressives doing while all this is going on? Why, we’re arguing among ourselves about whether vaccine mandates and mask mandates are anti-democratic and whether the science behind vaccines is suspect.

The new fascists have won the propaganda war. It has taken a half-century, but that war is over. By 2024 the US will likely have a new fascist federal government (in some senses, under the war-mongering right-wing Biden administration, it may already have one). And there is now no counterbalancing force on the planet to rein them in. Many countries around the world are on a similar path, or are already there.

So the plutocratic ruling castes will continue to use these governments to consolidate their money and power, and continue doing whatever they want, with impunity. Opposition parties may try to swing hard-right to emulate the success of the new fascists and try to wrest some power back, but for the most part they have already compromised so much to the wealthy and powerful that they will be dismissed as irrelevant. Any true opposition will be ruthlessly repressed.

This is what, I fear, we are most likely to be dealing with when global economic collapse weighs in with full force, followed by the rapid acceleration of ecological collapse. It’s tragic. It’s going to be a lot harder than it needed to be. But that, it seems, is the nature of the human species. When it comes to power, the use of it, and the fear of not having it, we don’t seem to be able to help ourselves.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 6 Comments

Has Canada Reached “Net Zero” on CoVid-19?


Actual vs “normal” weekly deaths from all causes, 2020 and 2021-to-date, from Statistics Canada data via Alberta Business Council

Since I first reported on the World Mortality Database (WMD), and its argument that IHME’s excess deaths data, and hence their estimates of actual deaths from CoVid-19, are completely untenable, I’ve been digging more into the WMD data, specifically the Canadian data.

The WMD data suggest that, far from the 40% CoVid-19 deaths undercount that many earlier studies had suggested for Canada (and the US), and the 50% undercount that IHME is now, preposterously, using (for Canada, but no longer for the US), the reported Canadian CoVid-19 death count appears to have been, and continues to be, extremely accurate. Some CoVid-19 deaths have been missed, of course, but it appears that for a comparable number of deaths attributed to CoVid-19 because the deceased showed evidence of having been infected, the actual cause of death was something else — most likely a pre-existing condition.

This phenomenon doesn’t only apply to Canada, but to quite a few other countries with advanced health care reporting systems, such as Belgium, France, Sweden, Switzerland and Austria. What distinguishes these countries is that the ratio of excess deaths during the pandemic to reported CoVid-19 deaths to date, is less than 1.0.

This doesn’t mean that global CoVid-19 deaths are anywhere near as low as the 5.3M reported to date — the correct number is probably triple that. That’s because countries with poor reporting systems or a political agenda to suppress reported death counts have drastically undercounted their death totals — by from 10% in the US to over 100% in countries like Russia, Brasil and India.

But it does mean that countries like Canada, Belgium, France, Sweden etc have actually done a pretty amazing job at identifying all the dead, and, consequently, adjusting for factors like demographics and average immune system health, have done a pretty amazing job at limiting the number of citizens infected in those countries, and hence their future toll of Long Covid sufferers.

If you look at the most recent statistics for Canada, for example, what is remarkable is that for Jan-May 2021 (the data after that date is not yet finalized) there have been zero net excess deaths. Despite increases in some months in the number of reported cases (partly due, most likely, to better reporting and more access to testing), the total number of Canadian deaths in 2021 to date would seem to be slightly lower than in an average year.

What does this mean? It means that for every CoVid-19 death in Canada in 2021, more than one death has been prevented, or at least forestalled, that would have occurred over a typical similar recent period. Many things could account for this:

  1. The huge number of people wearing masks (in my neighbourhoods it’s been 80+% of the people I see in public, all year) has reduced the incidence of flu and other respiratory diseases transmitted by air.
  2. People are just being more conscious of their health — washing their hands more often, for example, and getting tested when symptoms arose that they might “normally” have shrugged off, and hence identifying and treating other conditions.
  3. While “mobility” has returned to near “normal” levels, de facto social distancing protocols remain in place for most people, especially the most vulnerable, and will until the pandemic is declared “over”.

What’s remarkable is that this “net zero” excess deaths has been achieved despite some of the mortality factors that CoVid-19 would tend to exacerbate:

  1. People deferring or avoiding surgery and other medical interventions out of fear of getting CoVid-19 in hospitals, or because medical facilities became less available due to CoVid-19 hospitalizations.
  2. Increased deaths from suicide, street drug poisonings, domestic homicide and other consequences of people’s inability to deal with the challenges and isolation of living in a pandemic.
  3. Reported increases in some causes of death that are related to stress, and related to increased levels of obesity during the pandemic.

And that’s not even including the surges in deaths from some non-CoVid-19 related causes in 2021 such as “heat domes” (the leading cause of death among all causes in BC one week this past summer), wildfires, flooding etc.

What this means is that, for Canada at least, while we haven’t got the pandemic “under control”, total Canadian death tolls from all causes (including the pandemic) are back to pre-CoVid-19 levels. This despite the fact that the WMD data suggests that the percentage of Canadians infected with CoVid-19 so far is a lot lower than we feared earlier — perhaps as few as 10% of Canadians, a third the proportion of our neighbours to the south.

Close to 90% of Canadians are now fully vaccinated (the US percentage is closer to 60%). Canada is now fast-tracking booster shots, which show promising results against omicron. Canada’s death toll to date has been about 30,000 (0.08% of the population, compared to 0.27% of Americans), and probably another 2,000 Canadians will die over the four coming winter months. But if recent trends hold true, at least 2,000 fewer Canadians will die of other causes this winter than in a normal winter.

This doesn’t mean we should let up on what we’re doing. In fact it would be great if we could get free CoVid-19 tests into every Canadian’s hands to get better tabs on the pandemic’s progress here (we don’t have to deal with a Jen Psaki or a for-profit health care system in this country, so this should be possible).

What this data shows is that — at last — we in Canada are doing very well dealing with the pandemic, and we should be grateful to our public health system for this remarkable accomplishment.

The game may be far from over, but, at least in this country, it looks like we’ve tied up the score.

Posted in How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 4 Comments

The End of the Common Good


image by Gopal Vijayaraghavan on flickr, CC-BY-2.0

Anita Sreedhar and Anand Gopal, a doctor and a journalist, have been researching vaccine hesitancy for decades. In a recent NYT article they offered this remarkable perspective on it:

Over the past four decades, governments have slashed budgets and privatized basic services. This has two important consequences for public health. First, people are unlikely to trust institutions that do little for them. And second, public health is no longer viewed as a collective endeavor, based on the principle of social solidarity and mutual obligation. People are conditioned to believe they’re on their own and responsible only for themselves. That means an important source of vaccine hesitancy is the erosion of the idea of a common good.

One of the most striking examples of this transformation is in the United States, where anti-vaccination attitudes have been growing for decades. For Covid-19, commentators have chalked up vaccine distrust to everything from online misinformation campaigns, to our tribal political culture, to a fear of needles. Race has been highlighted in particular: In the early months of the vaccine rollout, white Americans were twice as likely as Black Americans to get vaccinated. Dr. Anthony Fauci pointed to the long shadow of racism on our country’s medical institutions, like the notorious Tuskegee syphilis trials, while others emphasized the negative experiences of Black and Latinos in the examination room. These views are not wrong; compared to white Americans, communities of color do experience the American health care system differently. But a closer look at the data reveals a more complicated picture.

Since the spring, when most American adults became eligible for Covid vaccines, the racial gap in vaccination rates between Black and white people has been halved. In September, a national survey found that vaccination rates among Black and white Americans were almost identical. Other surveys have determined that a much more significant factor was college attendance: Those without a college degree were the most likely to go unvaccinated.

Education is a reliable predictor of socioeconomic status, and other studies have similarly found a link between income and vaccination. An analysis in June of census tract data in Michigan showed, for example, that vaccination rates in the heavily Black neighborhoods of Saginaw County were below 35 percent, and the rates in nearby poor white areas were not much different. Voters who identify as Democrats are much more likely than Republicans to get vaccinated, but, according to the Michigan data, this gap also disappears when accounting for income and education. It turns out that the real vaccination divide is class.

So if we really have to find a villain to blame for vaccine hesitancy, we might want to look at the forces that create and sustain the class, or caste, divides. The obvious candidate would be capitalism, that enables and encourages obscene inequality of wealth and power, that blames its victims for the problems it creates, that perpetuates deliberate falsehoods to sell us stuff, that pits us mercilessly as consumers of products and political beliefs against each other, and that in general profits most from creating misinformation, disinformation, fear and distrust, and then selling us remedies for it.

There is, of course, no such thing as capitalism — it’s merely a label we put on aspects of our dysfunctional and devolving economic and political systems to try to make sense of what’s wrong (or right) with them. All the systems and -isms we imagine are just our attempt to make sense of the apparent patterns in the behaviour of 7.8B bewildered humans. We’re all doing our best, and no one is to blame. What we call disaster capitalism is just a description of what that collective behaviour has brought us to.

We believe what we want to believe, and the facts be damned. That is how we cope, how we make meaning, how we organize our thoughts to be able, we hope, to function in this dizzying, fragmented, collapsing civilization. And it also helps us get along with those in our circles, ie the others in our class, or to use Isabel Wilkerson’s more robust term, our caste, when we believe the same things they do.

What Anita and Anand are asserting is that that leads us to align our beliefs with theirs. The loss of collective trust in governments and institutions makes it easier to do that, since we and the rest of our caste can comfortably ignore what health professionals and scientists are saying, when it doesn’t align with what our caste believes. We need to believe something, and we all need the support of our peeps.

This is not about class war, although it has all the trappings of one. Civilization has damaged, traumatized, and left us all deeply skeptical of everything we hear, no matter what caste(s) we belong to. That is not to say that civilization isn’t inequitable, racist, sexist, and more brutal to some castes than others. The ship is sinking, we’ve burned all the lifeboats, and the fact that each caste is heading for the exits designated for that caste, will make no difference to the final outcomes. Those in the lower steerage areas will, of course, go sooner and more terribly than those on the upper decks rearranging the deck chairs in the belief a bit more consultation will come up with magical solutions to save them. Those on the upper decks have, of course, locked the stairwells and elevators to prevent those in the lower castes from moving higher. Those in the lower castes are ramming the barricades, outraged. Meanwhile, the bulkheads have been breached by the sea, and those in the bottom half of the ship are already gasping for breath.

We have created a global civilization (with the best of collective intentions) that is enormously fragile (efficiency is cheaper and faster than effectiveness), and it has no resiliency. It has grown to such enormous scale that no one controls, or can control, any of it, as hard as those with wealth and power might try. It cannot possibly hope to contend with global pandemics, especially with trust across castes at its nadir. For the same reasons it cannot hope to contend with the accelerating ecological collapse and economic collapse that will soon be the undoing of all of us and everything we have created.

A friend recently pointed out to me that, statistically, every person who has declined to get a vaccine since they have become available has, directly or indirectly, produced an average of 30-50 more infections, one of which will, on average, require hospitalization. One of every six thus hospitalized will die of the disease. The unvaccinated, he said, have blood on their hands. And about ten of the 30-50 needlessly infected will suffer with Long CoVid.

I understand his position, but he completely misunderstands the lessons that Anita and Anand are trying to convey. The facts (and statistics) don’t matter —  not because ‘some people’ are willfully ignorant or in denial about them, but because our culture has destroyed our trust in knowing with any confidence which facts are true and which are false. So we retreat to accepting the beliefs of those in our caste(s), and ignoring those of other castes when they hold something different.

This is human conditioning. We have evolved this way. When the facts are in doubt, we follow the herd. I watch this all the time in the behaviour of birds and deer, and there is no reason to believe we are any different. Our actions, and beliefs, are the products of our conditioning.

This propensity makes us even more bewildered when it comes to questions of “what can/should I do personally?” For wild creatures this is not an issue, but for us self-afflicted humans it is something most of are conditioned to take seriously. What difference do personal actions make? Followers of the Jevons Paradox know that buying a more fuel-efficient car will likely lead to increased use of the vehicle, so that fuel use actually increases. We know that flying is ecologically disastrous, but what difference does it make if that flight takes off with one more empty seat?

If I decide not to have any children, to avoid exponentially increasing my, and my descendants’, carbon footprint, the resources they would otherwise have consumed will simply be taken by someone else and their descendants, surely? The logic is false, but it doesn’t matter. As long as my caste is flying in airplanes (and getting upset if I refuse to), and having children (and getting upset if I urge them not to), we will all keep following the herd. That’s our conditioning, and until the planes are all grounded and until having a child is obviously condemning it to a ghastly life and early death, we will continue to do so. Then we’ll be reconditioned, by our caste (not by our politicians or the media) to behave differently.

As for the next pandemic, or the potential of omicron to essentially restart this one, the die is now cast. Those who trust the science, and the scientists, will mostly live, though the constraints on their lives will be much more severe, and their situation much more precarious, because next time even fewer will get vaccinated. Those who don’t trust the science, or the scientists, or those who employ them, for perfectly understandable reasons, will make the last two years under CoVid-19 look like a picnic. Our civilization can simply no longer cope with global crises — the trust needed to respond quickly and unanimously has been lost, if it ever really existed at all. And no one is to blame. This is what collapse looks like.

Posted in How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 8 Comments

When Meaning Loses Its Meaning


Dave Snowden’s Cynefin framework (2021). Adds liminal domains, points of uncertainty or paradox, notably the aporetic domain, from whence, notably, NZ’s Jacinda Ardern chose to cede decision-making authority to health experts as being better equipped than politicians to determine the most sensible next steps to deal with the pandemic, buying time in a period of crisis and keeping options open.

This morning I watched a fascinating conversation between my Welsh friend Dave Snowden, and filmmaker Nora Bateson, daughter of anthropologist Gregory Bateson and step-daughter of Margaret Mead. Nora is carrying on her father’s work on complexity. The subject was “When Meaning Loses Its Meaning”.

Here are my notes from the session; they’re not direct quotes:

If you want to change people don’t try to change the individual, because you can’t, and besides it’s arguably immoral to try; instead change who they interact with. Then they will make their own decisions about how they change and what they do as a result — and what you’re concerned with is what they do not what they think.

For a rich, “entangling” contextual connection to occur in a group of people, they don’t even have to talk together; what’s important is that they work together, do things together. Then they discover what they have in common, what they both care about, instead of what separates them, and that new contextual understanding can change what they do going forward, and hence change what they understand and believe. They end up with entangled narratives and contexts for sense-making, which then allow “intimate conversations” (trusting, lowered guard, more openness) to occur.

So you change their interactions, and who they interact with, rather than a ‘therapy’ approach of trying to change their ‘wrong’ beliefs. You of course have to trust people to want to do the right thing and to be prepared to change based on new knowledge and new interactions.

Complexity theory is not the same as “systems thinking” theory — the [Peter] Senge stuff is “reductionist and linear”. Complexity suggests that what people think or believe doesn’t matter as much as their communications and interactions. But you want to manage the interactions at some reasonable scale to make a real difference, and you scale changes in a complex adaptive system by decomposition and recombination, not by imitation or replication. [I would like to hear more about this. It seems to be about breaking the new behaviour down into its building blocks, and then letting each group/organization you want to encourage it in to reassemble them in a way that makes sense in their particular context. The way nature scales/learns/evolves without exact replication. “Here’s a new idea that seems to work. Here are its ingredients. See if makes sense to apply it there.”]

Complexity science, the science of understanding living systems, has been “debased and demeaned” by popularizers that have dumbed down its true meaning. There is “great danger in trivializing theory”. And in relying on theory to the point of exclusion of empirical facts that contradict the theory.

Systems dynamics is an engineering metaphor (about planning and goal-setting) whereas complexity is an ecological metaphor — where are we now and what can we do next. Systems thinking starts with a goal, a mission, a statement of purpose, while complexity starts instead [more humbly and pragmatically] with a “sense of direction”.

And complexity doesn’t try to think about the system as a whole, since we can never know it completely; instead you think about the identities and agents and interactions in play and what are the constraints and which of them can be managed. In an ordered system you manage the outcome, but in a complex system you can only manage [some of] the constraints.

Complexity is about “managing energy gradients”, eg by making it easier [and/or more fun?] for people to act, right now.

We need to look for “the opportunity for catalytic events to trigger phase shifts”, especially in areas like climate change. That will only happen with substantially more interaction between people across silos who can then see what they have in common and agree upon things as being important enough to require immediate action. [Dave had hoped, last year, that there would be a significant intersection and common cause emerging between the fight against CoVid-19, the Black Lives Matter movement, and the Extinction Rebellion movement.]

We don’t live in a mechanistic world, as much as ‘management scientists’ would like to believe otherwise, especially when urgent crises shift our thinking back to mechanistic solutions and to things that seemed to work in the past. Every software engineer needs to learn history, and ethics.

There’s also a danger that well-meaning ‘mediators’ can actually interfere with this process of intimate contextual entanglement necessary to deal effectively with complex situations. It takes skilled facilitation to stay out of the way of it, while also enabling it to happen.

Meaning-making is an abductive process. Abductive thinking entails the capacity to see things from different trans-contextual perspectives, to listen empathetically and pay attention to outliers on the “margins of meaning”, and imagine novel approaches and ideas, to draw on the “logic of hunches” and intuition, to rest in uncertainty and welcome and play with ambiguity, to combine well-considered theory with direct experience. It requires lots of practice, good attention skills, and rigour. And a practiced capacity to hypothesize, and to test our hypotheses, and hold several hypotheses simultaneously. And a capacity for “small noticings” — such as noticing the light on the field during a journey that you didn’t realize was important until you’d passed it, and then turning back to give it more attention.

So, for example, listening to the narratives about a child who is struggling in school must focus not only on the teacher’s skills and style and the child’s cognitive capacities, but also on complex factors like the child’s nutrition and home environment.

Many indigenous cultures deal with complex predicaments by bringing people together to do things, including ritual, and to engage with each other such that their contexts, understandings and narratives become entangled. They surface and share common concerns instead of debating or mediating differences. Then they can safely enter into intimate conversations. And then they trust each other to do, with the best of their shared understanding, what they know must be done.

But you don’t need a crisis to use this abductive process. You can understand and manage the constraints in a system even if it’s far from collapse. You can be hopeful, and more rigorous, applying it in all we do, without having to be optimistic about outcomes. It’s not about outcomes, which are largely outside our control or ability to predict. You can’t engineer emergent properties.

On ritual: The ritual of surgeons scrubbing up together before surgery can be as essential to its success as the surgeons’ knowledge. Offering true gifts, with no expectation of reciprocation or even acknowledgement, are among the most important rituals.

We live in a world of people too busy to be interested in history and science, and lacking in curiosity. And we have too many specialists and not enough generalists. We live in a world of cognitive malnourishment. Things like art and music are cognitive activators. So is communal living, engaging with the ambiguity of language, and practicing arguing a point of view you don’t believe in.

It is our relationships, including serendipitous encounters, that habituate us, far more than our environment and the resources we have at our disposal. The anxiety of feeling that we must “solve the problem” distracts us from thinking creatively and abductively about it, and leads us to fall back on habituated responses.

Part of our task in sense-making in complex situations is eponipoesis [sp?] — naming the unseen, what we tacitly realized but had never articulated out loud. Another part is having a powerful sense of the numinous, the mysterious — and of awe.

_______

So what do we make of all this, especially if one believes, as I currently do, that we are conditioned creatures lacking free will?

I think, perhaps surprisingly, that they’re absolutely correct. I have often been told that my “distinctive competency” in life is imagining possibilities that very few would ever have come up with — evidently an abductive skill. But I had no choice in the matter. I am by nature a curious generalist with an exceptional imagination, for better and for worse. This competency is one I came by naturally, and I practiced it because it was apparently valued, so I have retained it. Sometimes it had even enabled me to name the unseen.

I have poor attention skills, also conditioned, I believe — in part because of long-standing childhood fear, based on some relatively mildly traumatic experiences, that if I really paid attention I would be horrified, so I taught myself to turn away, to not pay attention. Now I’m trying to pay better attention, but it doesn’t come easily, and even my attempts are driven by my conditioning — now I don’t want to hurt people I care about by missing their signals. But I’m still a slow learner, and slow on the uptake of “small noticings”.

It makes sense that, once people believe what they want to believe (ie what they’ve been conditioned to believe, how they’ve come to make sense of the world), it’s exceedingly difficult to change their beliefs by directly confronting them with facts. Stories can be more effective, but bringing people into a relationship (not against their will, of course) that will give them context to understand why someone believes something very different from what they believe, is almost certainly more effective still. Our relationships ‘recondition’ us, over time.

I’m not sure about the value of rituals. They are clearly useful and important to many. And to the extent a ritual (short of harrowing ones like hazing, which can be effective but also traumatizing, a poor trade-off) can facilitate a shared experience, a commonality of context and meaning, I can see how they could facilitate a lot of otherwise-challenging or otherwise-awkward actions — dancing being an obvious example, whole-body shared experiences.

This discussion did resolve some great uncertainties I’ve had about systems theory and particularly about systems diagrams — the impossibility of knowing all the variables (in complex systems), and the dangers of asserting causality when there are so many variables. From now on I am going to use them more cautiously.

I’m dubious about the whole prospect of ‘scaling’ change. Dave’s nature-based model of recombination is intellectually appealing, but social and biological systems are different, and I find the metaphor weak. I’d believe it more if there were examples of its successful application, but I suspect it is still mostly theory. If social change doesn’t scale, as I suspect, a lot of businesses, and socio-political groups, will, I think, quickly lose interest in projects based on it.

I very much like the idea of practicing the development of, and the simultaneous holding of, alternative hypotheses, that sits at the heart of abductive process. I’m adding it to my Schmachtenberger homework. (And obviously I like the whole “managing energy gradients” idea, since it echoes Pollard’s Law of Human Behaviour.)

And very much onside on the subject of cognitive malnourishment. On the whole, I don’t think modern society values cognitive capacity or wants people to think smarter or to become more self-knowledgeable or resilient. Our consumer economy encourages dependence and the infantilization of humanity, because it’s more profitable, and reduces resistance to the status quo and existing wealth and power structures. Sad, and understandable.

And of course seeing new places with people with different values, cultures and sensibilities is always enriching. But, as the Procol Harum song says, whenever I’ve gone away travelling, I “only saw how far I am from home”.

Thanks to Dave and Nora for putting this on. Dave’s always been brilliant, but his talks and writing have become more coherent in recent years, though it’s still a challenge to follow his mental leaps. Maybe his voice is finally catching up to his brain. He famously said “we know more than we can ever say”.

And Nora, with a smile, said during the conversation, referring to no one in particular, “what we hear is not what was said”. Eliot would have smiled, too.

EDIT Dec 4: The video of this conversation is now online.

EDIT Dec 9: The Cynefin team has provided these links to more resources on this subject:

Posted in How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 5 Comments

Negative Assertions

I have nothing to tell you.
These words don’t mean what you think.
What you see here, and there, isn’t what’s actually happening.
We’re not really here.

That gorgeous colour, in the sunset, doesn’t exist.
That bird chirping in that tree, there, isn’t the same bird that was chirping a second ago.
The clock on your wall, telling the time, isn’t telling you anything.

Your love for them isn’t about them at all.
What you remember is no more real than what you imagine.
You can’t get there from here.

There was no Big Bang.
There is no moment under the moment.
There is no lightness of being, bearable or unbearable.

The end is not the end, or the beginning. Or any place in between.
There is no waiting, even for Godot, or TS Eliot.
That never happened.

It doesn’t get any better than this. Or any worse.
There is no choice.
It isn’t too late, or too soon.
You have no idea.

I’m not telling you this.
I have nothing to tell you.

Posted in Creative Works, Illusion of the Separate Self and Free Will | 5 Comments

An Alternative History of Life and Evolution


mitochondria (red) in human cells, electron microscope photo from Flickr, D. BURNETTE, J. LIPPINCOTT-SCHWARTZ/NICHD via The Scientist

About 4.5B years ago, it seemed that a giant mass of gases formed into a cloud and coalesced into a planet we call Earth, and shortly thereafter the seas seemingly formed on its surface, and shortly after that the first forms of single-celled life (prokaryotes) emerged in the oceanic soup. That emergence seems to have been an accident, one of nature’s endless experiments with variety that somehow sustained itself. An electric spark, for no reason, with surprise consequences.

It was another two billion years before another apparent accident — the engulfing of an aerobic bacterium by an anaerobic bacterium — generated an explosion in the quantity of available energy to the symbiotic pair, sufficient to enable the creation of multi-cellular life (eukaryotes).

Nick Paumgarten in The New Yorker explains what happened next:

According to what is known as the endosymbiotic theory of biological complexity, [the unexpected emergence of mitochondria] is the reason we exist. That [engulfed] aerobic bacterium evolved into what we call mitochondria, the organelles that fuel all living creatures: the powerhouses of the cell. Each of us has hundreds of trillions of mitochondria. They convert glucose and oxygen into adenosine triphosphate, or ATP, the primary cellular fuel. They also help produce the essential hormones—among them estrogen, testosterone, and cortisol—and regulate cellular proliferation and death.

It’s not inconceivable that the rest of the body (brain, hands, heart, lungs, digestive tract) is merely an elaborate and sometimes clumsy apparatus for the nourishment of the mitochondria—that it is the mitochondria, and not Homo sapiens, who rule and foul the earth. Our cardiovascular system, that fantastic and vulnerable machine, is essentially a delivery system for the oxygen they require. The mitochondrion is the creature and we are merely its husk, its fleshy chrysalis. A newborn’s first breath? That’s the mitochondria, calling the shots.

This energy revolution was so extraordinary that it empowered, over the next two billion years, the creation of a vast proliferation of new self-replicating containers for these mitochondria, called ‘organisms’, using this energy to self-propagate, transport, and protect themselves. The containers are what we call plants and animals (including the human variety), and the transporting mechanisms evolved from flagella to roots to fins and feet and wings.

And then there was another energy revolution. One of the new mitochondria containers, called a ‘human’, evolved the capacity to use tools and extract energy from the earth, to create yet another layer of containers to protect itself and hence the mitochondria it hosts, containers called ‘buildings’, and yet another layer of containers to transport itself and hence the mitochondria it hosts, called ‘vehicles’. The buildings, vehicles and other products of the human containers were collectively called ‘artifacts’.

So now these mighty mitochondria, veritable miniature energizer bunnies, were running a staggeringly complex multi-layered empire: They’d evolved organisms to protect and transport themselves in ‘packs’ of hundreds of trillions, and some of those organisms had in turn evolved artifacts to protect and transport billions of organisms.

But something went wrong along the way. Due to an accidentally-evolved error in the wiring of the feature detection system (called a ‘brain’) of the ‘human’ containers, these containers mistakenly came to believe that the human ‘self’, a construct of the brain, was in control of the organism. This delusion was propagated through another human tool called ‘language’, and soon all human containers were infected, and began behaving in erratic and dysfunctional ways, attacking and killing each other and other organisms, and fouling the planet, threatening the survival of all organisms.

But this aberration did not last long, and the massive extinction event it precipitated reduced the total number of mitochondria on Earth by over 97%. What followed was a long period of rapid and then gradual decomplexification, with other smaller extinction events, and most of the mitochondria that survived propagated in much simpler containers. There were a few surviving human containers, but they were not well-adapted to the post-extinction environment and finally became extinct about a million years later.

And then about twenty million years after that, an unprecedented series of cosmic storms, created by exploding supernovas, ionized the planet’s surface and atmosphere, creating a new primordial soup in a world filled with fire and lava and lightning, and by accident an entirely different type of powerhouse emerged in some simple bacterials cells that had just been awaiting their turn to explode with newly-infused energy. And the two billion year long reign of the mitochondria on Earth was over…

But of course, it’s only a story.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 1 Comment

Humour as Weapon, and Healer


cartoon in the New Yorker by Jon Adams

A sense of humor is a measurement of the extent to which we realize that we are trapped in a world almost totally devoid of reason. Laughter is how we express the anxiety we feel at this knowledge.
— Dave Barry

What you consider funny probably says a lot about you. That’s not a judgement — I’m not suggesting some humour is “better” and some humour is “worse”, just that the things that make you laugh likely reveal things that have happened to you in your past, and how you’ve reacted to them.

We are, after all, conditioned creatures, and our conditioning will influence how we react to a situation, or a joke. We are all, to some extent, I think, also healing, and afflicted by trauma of one kind or another, and humour can serve both as a weapon (to ridicule others we’ve been conditioned to hate, or fear, and hence make us feel superior), and as a source of healing (to empathize, soften, and/or recognize another’s suffering, or our own).

The trend in “professional” humour (comedy films and series and stand-up routines) seems to be largely the former — it is increasingly mean-spirited, demeaning and ridiculing “others” as a way of feeling better about our “not-like-them” selves. I see that as a sign that, as our civilizational collapse deepens and evokes more and more anxiety, grief, shame, guilt and anger in us, we are using humour directed against others to cast blame and demean those we hold responsible for that collapse, and hence to absolve ourselves from responsibility for it. That’s perfectly understandable, especially for the majority that clearly still believes that someone must be to blame and that something could/should be done to make things magically better.

I used to write fairly vicious satires in that mould. Rants serve the same purpose, and are easier than humour to pull off, and they can be entertaining (especially if we agree with the ranter), but they are rarely really funny. Comedians frequently use rants, but they are dangerous when it’s realized that, though you have come to hear comedy, what you are being served up is something else.

“I was just kidding of course”, is the lamest line ever spoken, and it’s usually dishonest.

Stand-up comedians often (though less than they used to) use self-deprecation to make themselves the object of their own humour, which can soften up their audience, evoke less triggers than using others as the butt of their jokes, and even, by evoking empathy in the audience, even help us see the absurdity of our own similar situation and make us laugh at it.

Of course, some humour isn’t personal at all. Puns and other humorous wordplay, and absurdist humour, are not ‘about’ anyone. They make us laugh for a different reason — incongruity and surprise.

Well I suppose I can’t get away with writing an article on humour without relating a few jokes to make my point. The cartoon at the top of this post is an example of what I would call attack humour, ridiculing “others”. Since I feel strongly about the subject, and sympathetic to the cartoonist, my initial reaction is to find it funny. But if the shoe were on the other foot, I would certainly not; I would be angered and triggered. This is dangerous ‘humour’, and perhaps not humour at all? I still enjoy it though, for all the shame that brings up in me.

The Potentially Inappropriate Memebrary group deliberately eschews (as best as its moderators can) politically-barbed humour, for this very reason. They want everyone to enjoy the joke, and I laud that. Here’s a doc with my favourite Memebrary memes.

Here’s a John Green joke that I love:

I went into Starbucks and asked for their mildest roast. They said “you have very average ears.”

And here’s a Dave Barry joke that I love:

It is a well-documented fact that guys will not ask for directions. This is a biological thing. This is why it takes several million sperm cells to locate a female egg, despite the fact that the egg is, relative to them, the size of Wisconsin.

Then there is wordplay humour that also tickles me, especially if it’s complex enough to have more than one “punch line”:

After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame
sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was
needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally
and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After
observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided
to call it a day. Just then, an armless man approached him and
announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer’s job.

The bishop was incredulous. “You have no arms!”.
“No matter,” said the man. “Observe!” And he began striking
the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found
a replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a
bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry
window to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a
crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful
music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to
let the bishop through, one of them asked, “Bishop, who was this
man?”.

“I don’t know his name,” the bishop sadly replied, “but his face
rings a bell.”

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his
heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the
bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, “Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.”

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless
man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell,
he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the
spot. Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief at this second tragedy,
rushed up the stairs to his side. “What has happened? Who is this
man?” the first monk asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know his name,” sighed the distraught bishop, but he’s a dead ringer for his brother.”

And then there is wry humour that includes a second-layer element of truth:

The biggest difference between Americans, Canadians and Brits is that Americans seem to think that poverty and failure are morally suspect, and
Canadians seem to believe that wealth and success are morally suspect, while
Brits understand that wealth, poverty, success and failure are inherited things.

So I have learned a bit about myself by understanding that I love certain types of humour: particularly clever puns and crossword clues, absurdist, impromptu and hyperbolized humour, self-deprecating, gentle satire and parodies, jokes with multiple punch lines, and humour that also conveys an element of truth. And that I am suspicious of humour “aimed” at others. I’m not entirely sure why some humour appeals to me while most humour does not. I suppose it’s a bit like why I am crazy about an eclectic mix of songs and completely indifferent to other songs, even those considered “classics”.

It’s a bunch of cultural conditioning, and I suspect a bit of biological conditioning. When I first hear a great joke, it’s almost as if I know I’m going to love it before it’s even finished being told. Just as I usually fall in love with songs, or not, even before I hear the first chorus. No accounting for taste, though trying to do so is fascinating.

Posted in Our Culture / Ourselves | Comments Off on Humour as Weapon, and Healer

The Right to Do Nothing


one of many recent anti-mandate protests in Europe and the Caribbean, this one in Croatia; AP photo via Al Jazeera

The arguments against getting vaccinated are now coalescing around the issue of “mandates”. These arguments no longer insist that the vaccines are necessarily useless or dangerous (though many of course think they are), but instead assert that making them mandatory is political overreach and/or a potentially dangerous abuse of power and authority, a “slippery slope”.

This seems to be a “big tent” type of argument, designed to bring together three disparate groups of the vaccine-hesitant: the misinformed and paranoid who believe the vaccines are unnecessary and/or dangerous; those with PTSD and other medical histories that have made them afraid of needles; and those across the political spectrum who think governments have too much power and that that power needs to be reined in.

Whipping up anti-government anger, distrust and fear is easy to do when our modern governments are disconnected from their constituents, when the news is replete with stories of government corruption, graft and abuse of power, and when many people, full of dread about the future and shame about their current situation, are looking for someone to blame. Right-wing ideologues and populist psychopaths have exploited this easy path all over the world to seize and entrench power in recent years, and have already established what are effectively fascist regimes in much of the world. In the process, they have destabilized democracies in most of the remaining countries.

As global information and communication leads to ever-more cultural homogeneity, it becomes increasingly doubtful that our remaining fragile democracies can survive the systematic attack by the rich, powerful and psychotic to undermine them by disseminating misinformation, disinformation, and fomenting distrust in all public institutions.

As a result of this distrust, the current pandemic, which would have been over by now if 90% of the population had been promptly vaccinated this summer before the delta variant exploded, is now likely to go on at least another year, and longer if new deadlier or more transmissible variants emerge in the huge pool of the unvaccinated. With prompt and full masking from the outset, the global death toll would almost certainly have been less than a million. With prompt and universal vaccination, it would likely have been less than three million. But now it stands at close to fifteen million, and is likely to kill at least another seven million as the world remains paralyzed into inaction.

And that’s just one of the costs of the destruction of trust in public institutions.

I have said before that I think we believe what we want to believe, regardless of what is actually true. So it seems to me that what we are now witnessing is a classic symptom of civilizational collapse — the giving up of belief that the current systems that govern our behaviour are still serving us well, and at least metaphorically the “walking away” from our teetering global, centralized, industrial culture. Sadly, in our horrifically overpopulated world, there is nowhere to walk away to (although the tech billionaires in their space suits are still in denial that their experiment is over, and still trying to sell us on the next one).

This suggests to me that we won’t be able to avoid the social collapse that often accompanies political, economic and ecological collapse when civilizations fall apart. To avoid social collapse would require a willingness to relearn how to create and live in radically relocalized communities, and to trust and even love the others who happen to live in those communities. As collapse worsens, it would seem naive to think we are going to learn to trust each other when our trust has been so recently and severely destroyed by those seeking to profit from our disconnection and disunity, and by the sheer dysfunctionality of the oversized, bureaucratic, centralized, one-size-fits-none systems we naively built thinking they would make the world better.

Gene McCarthy warned fifty years ago about our society’s growing proclivity for acedia — an incapacity to care for or about other people, especially those “different” from us. As horrific as the consequences of that might be (if we don’t care, there’s nothing we won’t do), this emotional distancing of ourselves is actually pretty understandable. We can’t care when every time we do, we are let down. We can’t care when it hurts too much to care. So we protect ourselves by inuring ourselves to others’ suffering. Once we’ve given up trust in others, and in our public institutions, and given up caring for others, social collapse is inevitable. It’s everyone for themselves.

That means that, just as this pandemic has been much worse than some previous ones, and much worse than it needed to be had we all pulled together, so will our civilization’s collapse be more brutal and violent than it needed to be. That’s tragic, but understandable, and probably the only way it could have ended up. There will still be pockets of mutual care and community-building as collapse deepens, among those not badly damaged by civilization’s excesses and atrocities, and we will have to settle for that. It’s a long way down.

With that context, what does this explosion of fear, distrust, acedia and despair mean for the trajectory of the current pandemic? While the virus will do what it will do, either fading out as it runs out of hosts, or resurging with new mutations, my current sense is that we will see additional manifestations of this “giving up” in our pandemic-related behaviour.

Currently, we sit idly by and witness tens of millions of unnecessary deaths, and unfathomable amounts of unnecessary suffering, every year, from eighty diseases clearly caused by poor diet and malnutrition. The reasons we eat so badly, and refuse to admit it or correct it, are complex. We could blame the industrial food system, capitalism, false advertising and other forms of misinformation, the overly frenetic pace of our lives, inequality, or, as we are increasingly inclined to do, we could blame the victims. When we can no longer care — when the feelings of overwhelm, shame, grief, and helplessness force us to turn away — we have to blame the poor, the sick, and others who are struggling, for their own suffering. It is the only way we can cope.

I think we will, likewise, turn away from this pandemic and its victims. Those of us vaccinated will blame the unvaccinated for their own suffering, and for exposing the rest of us to additional unnecessary illness. Views will harden. Violence, like we are seeing in many countries by citizens railing against “mandates”, will increase. Mandates will increasingly fail because they rely on a certain level of acceptance and compliance, which will no longer exist.

Until and unless the pandemic wanes as more and more of the population gets infected with it, events will polarize into “vaccines and masks” activities, and “no mandates” activities, with inevitable protests and scuffles resulting from that. If a new, more (or differently) virulent strain emerges before that, we are well and truly fucked. And then, there’s the huge unknown of “Long CoVid” with its potentially billions of sufferers further straining our already-faltering health care systems.

It’s interesting to compare the reaction to vaccine and mask mandates to the reaction, fifty years ago, to seatbelt mandates in cars, and even to mandatory testing of apparently drunk drivers. I know people who still object to seatbelt use mandates, and their arguments are virtually identical to those made against vaccine mandates. They even fall into the same three categories (“they don’t work”, “I have a medical/psychological condition that exempts me”, and “governments have no business telling us what to do when it comes to our own bodies and property”). They tell the same worn stories about someone they knew who died because they got pinned in by a seatbelt, and the statistics be damned.

But their numbers are tiny compared to those opposed to mask mandates. Are things, and people, just different now when it comes to mandates? I suspect they are. There is a lot less trust now.

What happens when the bulk of humanity becomes permanently angry, distrustful, fearful, and uncaring — when that’s the only way they can cope with the sheer overwhelm of a society that seems headed for catastrophe, that seems incompetent to address it, that seems beyond understanding, inexplicably and outrageously immoral, and insensitive to the suffering it is causing? The same thing that all animals do when they no longer have the option to fight (the “enemy” is too strong to engage, and too amorphous to identify) or to flee (there are no frontiers left to run to)?

We freeze. We become paralyzed. We refuse to comply, to be complicit with what we can neither appreciate or condone. We resist. We stay still and do nothing. When it’s a seatbelt mandate, we cut them out and disengage the alarm. When it’s a vaccine mandate, we refuse, instead falling for quack cures — we’ll deny there’s a problem, or we’ll try anything provided the government and public institutions haven’t authorized or demanded it. Even better if the government rails against these “alternatives”. In other words, in our infantilized, dumbed down modern society, we have a temper tantrum, screaming and punching and sitting down with our arms crossed and refusing to budge.

When everything is seemingly unfathomably complicated and unacceptable and hopeless, we demand the right to do nothing. I kind of get it. Were it not for my education, my passion for research and knowledge, my analytical skills and my experience working with really smart, caring people in public service, I might be caught up in the same reactionary paralysis. I am extremely blessed by my life’s circumstances and by the relative lack of trauma affecting my thinking and my judgement.

The humanitarians I know say the answer is to quietly, patiently educate, inform, and help heal our fellow citizens, to help them move past their fear, their anger, their distrust, and their incapacity to see what, on the balance of probabilities, makes sense. I admire their idealism, but I think we’re long past that point. If a large, and growing proportion of the world is still in denial about the existential threat of climate collapse, why would we think we can find common ground with them on issues that are more personal, more immediate, more triggering?

.     .     .     .     .

I am often asked how, when my views on collapse and other issues are so relentlessly pessimistic, I don’t shut down in despair. Again I would say it’s due to my privilege — to have had, and to have, access to the information, time to think, capacity to think things through and to imagine possibilities, a relatively healthy and stress-free life, and people and resources to help me make sense of things. Most of the world’s people have not been so privileged, and as much as their beliefs and behaviours perturb me, I get why they are where they are and why they react the way they do. We are all healing. Some of us better than others.

Take care, everyone.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 4 Comments

The Impossible Dream


cover art by Eric Drooker

This week’s (Nov. 15) New Yorker is pretty depressing reading, but as I read it I realized that all of the analyses in the issue are focused on complex, intractable problems, and, refreshingly, none of them proffers any solutions.

The first and most harrowing article is about the accelerating challenges of wildfires in the US. In it, science journalist and author MR O’Connor, a certified firefighter herself, describes how incompetent forest management practices, and decisions based on politics not science (sound familiar?) have produced the current situation of exorbitant firefighting costs, futile containment efforts, incredible risk to firefighters’ lives and health, and the ever-increasing danger of mega-fires. And that was before the climate emergency weighed in with record storms, heat waves and droughts. With “containment” proving to be an unsuccessful and unsustainable strategy, and leaving wildfires to burn themselves out not a viable solution either, there are no answers left.

The next article, by Brooke Jarvis, describes the quandary of trying to humanely limit the numbers of deer and other creatures, encroaching on and being encroached upon by human settlements, when natural predators and natural habitats have both disappeared. Again, there are no answers.

The lead Talk of the Town article, by Elizabeth Kolbert, describes the fiasco of COP26. Enough said.

In other articles in this edition, Ian Parker explains the impossibility of reliably certifying organic produce (describing the huge Organic Land Management fraud case), and Jon Lee Anderson describes the horrific challenges of corruption and crime in the ecologically and economically desolated nations of Central America.

So it’s only fitting, I suppose, that the magazine’s cover, by Eric Drooker, reproduced above, would depict a dejected Don Quixote facing a modern windmill farm against a blood red background, in a work brilliantly titled The Impossible Dream. We are finally coming to grips, it seems, with the symptoms and consequences of collapse, and the realization that no god, no government, no humanist enlightenment, and most certainly no technology, is going to prevent it.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 3 Comments