[wordup] Best Practices for Social Collapse
Adam Shand
adam at shand.net
Mon Feb 16 03:25:29 EST 2009
I've been looking for collapse "how to" manuals for a while. This is
a fascinating article on one mans comparison between the Russian
collapse and the pending US collapse that he foresees.
Regardless of whether you agree it's an interesting take on the whole
thing.
Adam.
Via: Rebecca Downes <rebecca at wetafx...>
Source: http://cluborlov.blogspot.com/2009/02/social-collapse-best-practices.html
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2009
Social Collapse Best Practices
The following talk was given on February 13, 2009, at Cowell Theatre
in Fort Mason Center, San Francisco, to an audience of 550 people.
Audio and video of the talk will be available on Long Now Foundation
web site.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for showing up. It's
certainly nice to travel all the way across the North American
continent and have a few people come to see you, even if the occasion
isn't a happy one. You are here to listen to me talk about social
collapse and the various ways we can avoid screwing that up along with
everything else that's gone wrong. I know it's a lot to ask of you,
because why wouldn't you instead want to go and eat, drink, and be
merry? Well, perhaps there will still be time left for that after my
talk.
I would like to thank the Long Now Foundation for inviting me, and I
feel very honored to appear in the same venue as many serious,
professional people, such as Michael Pollan, who will be here in May,
or some of the previous speakers, such as Nassim Taleb, or Brian Eno –
some of my favorite people, really. I am just a tourist. I flew over
here to give this talk and to take in the sights, and then I'll fly
back to Boston and go back to my day job. Well, I am also a blogger.
And I also wrote a book. But then everyone has a book, or so it would
seem.
You might ask yourself, then, Why on earth did he get invited to speak
here tonight? It seems that I am enjoying my moment in the limelight,
because I am one of the very few people who several years ago
unequivocally predicted the demise of the United States as a global
superpower. The idea that the USA will go the way of the USSR seemed
preposterous at the time. It doesn't seem so preposterous any more. I
take it some of you are still hedging your bets. How is that hedge
fund doing, by the way?
I think I prefer remaining just a tourist, because I have learned from
experience – luckily, from other people's experience – that being a
superpower collapse predictor is not a good career choice. I learned
that by observing what happened to the people who successfully
predicted the collapse of the USSR. Do you know who Andrei Amalrik is?
See, my point exactly. He successfully predicted the collapse of the
USSR. He was off by just half a decade. That was another valuable
lesson for me, which is why I will not give you an exact date when USA
will turn into FUSA ("F" is for "Former"). But even if someone could
choreograph the whole event, it still wouldn't make for much of a
career, because once it all starts falling apart, people have far more
important things to attend to than marveling at the wonderful
predictive abilities of some Cassandra-like person.
I hope that I have made it clear that I am not here in any sort of
professional capacity. I consider what I am doing a kind of community
service. So, if you don't like my talk, don't worry about me. There
are plenty of other things I can do. But I would like my insights to
be of help during these difficult and confusing times, for altruistic
reasons, mostly, although not entirely. This is because when times get
really bad, as they did when the Soviet Union collapsed, lots of
people just completely lose it. Men, especially. Successful, middle-
aged men, breadwinners, bastions of society, turn out to be especially
vulnerable. And when they just completely lose it, they become very
tedious company. My hope is that some amount of preparation,
psychological and otherwise, can make them a lot less fragile, and a
bit more useful, and generally less of a burden.
Women seem much more able to cope. Perhaps it is because they have
less of their ego invested in the whole dubious enterprise, or perhaps
their sense of personal responsibility is tied to those around them
and not some nebulous grand enterprise. In any case, the women always
seem far more able to just put on their gardening gloves and go do
something useful, while the men tend to sit around groaning about the
Empire, or the Republic, or whatever it is that they lost. And when
they do that, they become very tedious company. And so, without a bit
of mental preparation, the men are all liable to end up very lonely
and very drunk. So that's my little intervention.
If there is one thing that I would like to claim as my own, it is the
comparative theory of superpower collapse. For now, it remains just a
theory, although it is currently being quite thoroughly tested. The
theory states that the United States and the Soviet Union will have
collapsed for the same reasons, namely: a severe and chronic shortfall
in the production of crude oil (that magic addictive elixir of
industrial economies), a severe and worsening foreign trade deficit, a
runaway military budget, and ballooning foreign debt. I call this
particular list of ingredients "The Superpower Collapse Soup." Other
factors, such as the inability to provide an acceptable quality of
life for its citizens, or a systemically corrupt political system
incapable of reform, are certainly not helpful, but they do not
automatically lead to collapse, because they do not put the country on
a collision course with reality. Please don't be too concerned,
though, because, as I mentioned, this is just a theory. My theory.
I've been working on this theory since about 1995, when it occurred to
me that the US is retracing the same trajectory as the USSR. As so
often is the case, having this realization was largely a matter of
being in the right place at the right time. The two most important
methods of solving problems are: 1. by knowing the solution ahead of
time, and 2. by guessing it correctly. I learned this in engineering
school – from a certain professor. I am not that good at guesswork,
but I do sometimes know the answer ahead of time.
I was very well positioned to have this realization because I grew up
straddling the two worlds – the USSR and the US. I grew up in Russia,
and moved to the US when I was twelve, and so I am fluent in Russian,
and I understand Russian history and Russian culture the way only a
native Russian can. But I went through high school and university in
the US .I had careers in several industries here, I traveled widely
around the country, and so I also have a very good understanding of
the US with all of its quirks and idiosyncrasies. I traveled back to
Russia in 1989, when things there still seemed more or less in line
with the Soviet norm, and again in 1990, when the economy was at a
standstill, and big changes were clearly on the way. I went back there
3 more times in the 1990s, and observed the various stages of Soviet
collapse first-hand.
By the mid-1990s I started to see Soviet/American Superpowerdom as a
sort of disease that strives for world dominance but in effect
eviscerates its host country, eventually leaving behind an empty
shell: an impoverished population, an economy in ruins, a legacy of
social problems, and a tremendous burden of debt. The symmetries
between the two global superpowers were then already too numerous to
mention, and they have been growing more obvious ever since.
The superpower symmetries may be of interest to policy wonks and
history buffs and various skeptics, but they tell us nothing that
would be useful in our daily lives. It is the asymmetries, the
differences between the two superpowers, that I believe to be most
instructive. When the Soviet system went away, many people lost their
jobs, everyone lost their savings, wages and pensions were held back
for months, their value was wiped out by hyperinflation, there
shortages of food, gasoline, medicine, consumer goods, there was a
large increase in crime and violence, and yet Russian society did not
collapse. Somehow, the Russians found ways to muddle through. How was
that possible? It turns out that many aspects of the Soviet system
were paradoxically resilient in the face of system-wide collapse, many
institutions continued to function, and the living arrangement was
such that people did not lose access to food, shelter or
transportation, and could survive even without an income. The Soviet
economic system failed to thrive, and the Communist experiment at
constructing a worker's paradise on earth was, in the end, a failure.
But as a side effect it inadvertently achieved a high level of
collapse-preparedness. In comparison, the American system could
produce significantly better results, for time, but at the cost of
creating and perpetuating a living arrangement that is very fragile,
and not at all capable of holding together through the inevitable
crash. Even after the Soviet economy evaporated and the government
largely shut down, Russians still had plenty left for them to work
with. And so there is a wealth of useful information and insight that
we can extract from the Russian experience, which we can then turn
around and put to good use in helping us improvise a new living
arrangement here in the United States – one that is more likely to be
survivable.
The mid-1990s did not seem to me as the right time to voice such
ideas. The United States was celebrating its so-called Cold War
victory, getting over its Vietnam syndrome by bombing Iraq back to the
Stone Age, and the foreign policy wonks coined the term "hyperpower"
and were jabbering on about full-spectrum dominance. All sorts of
silly things were happening. Professor Fukuyama told us that history
had ended, and so we were building a brave new world where the Chinese
made things out of plastic for us, the Indians provided customer
support when these Chinese-made things broke, and we paid for it all
just by flipping houses, pretending that they were worth a lot of
money whereas they are really just useless bits of ticky-tacky. Alan
Greenspan chided us about "irrational exuberance" while consistently
low-balling interest rates. It was the "Goldilocks economy" – not to
hot, not too cold. Remember that? And now it turns out that it was
actually more of a "Tinker-bell" economy, because the last five or so
years of economic growth was more or less a hallucination, based on
various debt pyramids, the "whole house of cards" as President Bush
once referred to it during one of his lucid moments. And now we can
look back on all of that with a funny, queasy feeling, or we can look
forward and feel nothing but vertigo.
While all of these silly things were going on, I thought it best to
keep my comparative theory of superpower collapse to myself. During
that time, I was watching the action in the oil industry, because I
understood that oil imports are the Achilles' heel of the US economy.
In the mid-1990s the all-time peak in global oil production was
scheduled for the turn of the century. But then a lot of things
happened that delayed it by at least half a decade. Perhaps you’ve
noticed this too, there is a sort of refrain here: people who try to
predict big historical shifts always turn to be off by about half a
decade. Unsuccessful predictions, on the other hand are always spot on
as far as timing: the world as we know it failed to end precisely at
midnight on January 1, 2000. Perhaps there is a physical principal
involved: information spreads at the speed of light, while ignorance
is instantaneous at all points in the known universe. So please make a
mental note: whenever it seems to you that I am making a specific
prediction as to when I think something is likely to happen, just
silently add “plus or minus half a decade.”
In any case, about half a decade ago, I finally thought that the time
was ripe, and, as it has turned out, I wasn’t too far off. In June of
2005 I published an article on the subject, titled "Post-Soviet
Lessons for a Post-American Century," which was quite popular, even to
the extent that I got paid for it. It is available at various places
on the Internet. A little while later I formalized my thinking
somewhat into the "Collapse Gap" concept, which I presented at a
conference in Manhattan in April of 2006. The slide show from that
presentation, titled "Closing the Collapse Gap," was posted on the
Internet and has been downloaded a few million times since then. Then,
in January of 2008, when it became apparent to me that financial
collapse was well underway, and that other stages of collapse were to
follow, I published a short article titled “The Five Stages of
Collapse,” which I later expanded into a talk I gave at a conference
in Michigan in October of 2008. Finally, at the end of 2008, I
announced on my blog that I am getting out of the prognosticating
business. I have made enough predictions, they all seem very well on
track (give or take half a decade, please remember that), collapse is
well underway, and now I am just an observer.
But this talk is about something else, something other than making
dire predictions and then acting all smug when they come true. You
see, there is nothing more useless than predictions, once they have
come true. It’s like looking at last year’s amazingly successful stock
picks: what are you going to do about them this year? What we need are
examples of things that have been shown to work in the strange,
unfamiliar, post-collapse environment that we are all likely to have
to confront. Stuart Brand proposed the title for the talk – “Social
Collapse Best Practices” – and I thought that it was an excellent
idea. Although the term “best practices” has been diluted over time to
sometimes mean little more than “good ideas,” initially it stood for
the process of abstracting useful techniques from examples of what has
worked in the past and applying them to new situations, in order to
control risk and to increase the chances of securing a positive
outcome. It’s a way of skipping a lot of trial and error and
deliberation and experimentation, and to just go with what works.
In organizations, especially large organizations, “best practices”
also offer a good way to avoid painful episodes of watching colleagues
trying to “think outside the box” whenever they are confronted with a
new problem. If your colleagues were any good at thinking outside the
box, they probably wouldn’t feel so compelled to spend their whole
working lives sitting in a box keeping an office chair warm. If they
were any good at thinking outside the box, they would have by now
thought of a way to escape from that box. So perhaps what would make
them feel happy and productive again is if someone came along and gave
them a different box inside of which to think – a box better suited to
the post-collapse environment.
Here is the key insight: you might think that when collapse happens,
nothing works. That’s just not the case. The old ways of doing things
don’t work any more, the old assumptions are all invalidated,
conventional goals and measures of success become irrelevant. But a
different set of goals, techniques, and measures of success can be
brought to bear immediately, and the sooner the better. But enough
generalities, let’s go through some specifics. We’ll start with some
generalities, and, as you will see, it will all become very, very
specific rather quickly.
Here is another key insight: there are very few things that are
positives or negatives per se. Just about everything is a matter of
context. Now, it just so happens that most things that are positives
prior to collapse turn out to be negatives once collapse occurs, and
vice versa. For instance, prior to collapse having high inventory in a
business is bad, because the businesses have to store it and finance
it, so they try to have just-in-time inventory. After collapse, high
inventory turns out to be very useful, because they can barter it for
the things they need, and they can’t easily get more because they
don’t have any credit. Prior to collapse, it’s good for a business to
have the right level of staffing and an efficient organization. After
collapse, what you want is a gigantic, sluggish bureaucracy that can’t
unwind operations or lay people off fast enough through sheer
bureaucratic foot-dragging. Prior to collapse, what you want is an
effective retail segment and good customer service. After collapse,
you regret not having an unreliable retail segment, with shortages and
long bread lines, because then people would have been forced to learn
to shift for themselves instead of standing around waiting for
somebody to come and feed them.
If you notice, none of these things that I mentioned have any bearing
on what is commonly understood as “economic health.” Prior to
collapse, the overall macroeconomic positive is an expanding economy.
After collapse, economic contraction is a given, and the overall
macroeconomic positive becomes something of an imponderable, so we are
forced to listen to a lot of nonsense. The situation is either
slightly better than expected or slightly worse than expected. We are
always either months or years away from economic recovery. Business as
usual will resume sooner or later, because some television bobble-head
said so.
But let’s take it apart. Starting from the very general, what are the
current macroeconomic objectives, if you listen to the hot air coming
out of Washington at the moment? First: growth, of course! Getting the
economy going. We learned nothing from the last huge spike in
commodity prices, so let’s just try it again. That calls for economic
stimulus, a.k.a. printing money. Let’s see how high the prices go up
this time. Maybe this time around we will achieve hyperinflation.
Second: Stabilizing financial institutions: getting banks lending –
that’s important too. You see, we are just not in enough debt yet,
that’s our problem. We need more debt, and quickly! Third: jobs! We
need to create jobs. Low-wage jobs, of course, to replace all the high-
wage manufacturing jobs we’ve been shedding for decades now, and
replacing them with low-wage service sector jobs, mainly ones without
any job security or benefits. Right now, a lot of people could slow
down the rate at which they are sinking further into debt if they quit
their jobs. That is, their job is a net loss for them as individuals
as well as for the economy as a whole. But, of course, we need much
more of that, and quickly!
So that’s what we have now. The ship is on the rocks, water is rising,
and the captain is shouting “Full steam ahead! We are sailing to
Afghanistan!” Do you listen to Ahab up on the bridge, or do you desert
your post in the engine room and go help deploy the lifeboats? If you
thought that the previous episode of uncontrolled debt expansion,
globalized Ponzi schemes, and economic hollowing-out was silly, then I
predict that you will find this next episode of feckless grasping at
macroeconomic straws even sillier. Except that it won’t be funny: what
is crashing now is our life support system: all the systems and
institutions that are keeping us alive. And so I don’t recommend
passively standing around and watching the show – unless you happen to
have a death wish.
Right now the Washington economic stimulus team is putting on their
Scuba gear and diving down to the engine room to try to invent a way
to get a diesel engine to run on seawater. They spoke of change, but
in reality they are terrified of change and want to cling with all
their might to the status quo. But this game will soon be over, and
they don’t have any idea what to do next.
So, what is there for them to do? Forget “growth,” forget “jobs,”
forget “financial stability.” What should their realistic new
objectives be? Well, here they are: food, shelter, transportation, and
security. Their task is to find a way to provide all of these
necessities on an emergency basis, in absence of a functioning
economy, with commerce at a standstill, with little or no access to
imports, and to make them available to a population that is largely
penniless. If successful, society will remain largely intact, and will
be able to begin a slow and painful process of cultural transition,
and eventually develop a new economy, a gradually de-industrializing
economy, at a much lower level of resource expenditure, characterized
by a quite a lot of austerity and even poverty, but in conditions that
are safe, decent, and dignified. If unsuccessful, society will be
gradually destroyed in a series of convulsions that will leave a
defunct nation composed of many wretched little fiefdoms. Given its
largely depleted resource base, a dysfunctional, collapsing
infrastructure, and its history of unresolved social conflicts, the
territory of the Former United States will undergo a process of steady
degeneration punctuated by natural and man-made cataclysms.
Food. Shelter. Transportation. Security. When it comes to supplying
these survival necessities, the Soviet example offers many valuable
lessons. As I already mentioned, in a collapse many economic negatives
become positives, and vice versa. Let us consider each one of these in
turn.
The Soviet agricultural sector was plagued by consistent
underperformance. In many ways, this was the legacy of the disastrous
collectivization experiment carried out in the 1930s, which destroyed
many of the more prosperous farming households and herded people into
collective farms. Collectivization undermined the ancient village-
based agricultural traditions that had made pre-revolutionary Russia a
well-fed place that was also the breadbasket of Western Europe. A
great deal of further damage was caused by the introduction of
industrial agriculture. The heavy farm machinery alternately compacted
and tore up the topsoil while dosing it with chemicals, depleting it
and killing the biota. Eventually, the Soviet government had to turn
to importing grain from countries hostile to its interests – United
States and Canada – and eventually expanded this to include other
foodstuffs. The USSR experienced a permanent shortage of meat and
other high-protein foods, and much of the imported grain was used to
raise livestock to try to address this problem.
Although it was generally possible to survive on the foods available
at the government stores, the resulting diet would have been rather
poor, and so people tried to supplement it with food they gathered,
raised, or caught, or purchased at farmers’ markets. Kitchen gardens
were always common, and, once the economy collapsed, a lot of families
took to growing food in earnest. The kitchen gardens, by themselves,
were never sufficient, but they made a huge difference.
The year 1990 was particularly tough when it came to trying to score
something edible. I remember one particular joke from that period.
Black humor has always been one of Russia’s main psychological coping
mechanisms. A man walks into a food store, goes to the meat counter,
and he sees that it is completely empty. So he asks the butcher:
“Don’t you have any fish?” And the butcher answers: “No, here is where
we don’t have any meat. Fish is what they don’t have over at the
seafood counter.”
Poor though it was, the Soviet food distribution system never
collapsed completely. In particular, the deliveries of bread continued
even during the worst of times, partly because has always been such an
important part of the Russian diet, and partly because access to bread
symbolized the pact between the people and the Communist government,
enshrined in oft-repeated revolutionary slogans. Also, it is important
to remember that in Russia most people have lived within walking
distance of food shops, and used public transportation to get out to
their kitchen gardens, which were often located in the countryside
immediately surrounding the relatively dense, compact cities. This
combination of factors made for some lean times, but very little
malnutrition and no starvation.
In the United States, the agricultural system is heavily
industrialized, and relies on inputs such as diesel, chemical
fertilizers and pesticides, and, perhaps most importantly, financing.
In the current financial climate, the farmers’ access to financing is
not at all assured. This agricultural system is efficient, but only if
you regard fossil fuel energy as free. In fact, it is a way to
transform fossil fuel energy into food with a bit of help from
sunlight, to the tune of 10 calories of fossil fuel energy being
embodied in each calorie that is consumed as food. The food
distribution system makes heavy use of refrigerated diesel trucks,
transforming food over hundreds of miles to resupply supermarkets. The
food pipeline is long and thin, and it takes only a couple of days of
interruptions for supermarket shelves to be stripped bare. Many people
live in places that are not within walking distance of stores, not
served by public transportation, and will be cut off from food sources
once they are no longer able to drive.
Besides the supermarket chains, much of the nation’s nutrition needs
are being met by an assortment of fast food joints and convenience
stores. In fact, in many of the less fashionable parts of cities and
towns, fast food and convenience store food is all that is available.
In the near future, this trend is likely to extend to the more
prosperous parts of town and the suburbs.
Fast food outfits such as McDonalds have more ways to cut costs, and
so may prove a bit more resilient in the face of economic collapse
than supermarket chains, but they are no substitute for food security,
because they too depend industrial agribusiness. Their food inputs,
such as high-fructose corn syrup, genetically modified potatoes,
various soy-based fillers, factory-farmed beef, pork and chicken, and
so forth, are derived from oil, two-thirds of which is imported, as
well as fertilizer made from natural gas. They may be able to stay in
business longer, supplying food-that-isn’t-really-food, but eventually
they will run out of inputs along with the rest of the supply chain.
Before they do, they may for a time sell burgers that aren’t really
burgers, like the bread that wasn’t really bread that the Soviet
government distributed in Leningrad during the Nazi blockade. It was
mostly sawdust, with a bit of rye flour added for flavor.
Can we think of any ways to avoid this dismal scenario? The Russian
example may give us a clue. Many Russian families could gauge how fast
the economy was crashing, and, based on that, decide how many rows of
potatoes to plant. Could we perhaps do something similar? There is
already a healthy gardening movement in the United States; can it be
scaled up? The trick is to make small patches of farmland available
for non-mechanical cultivation by individuals and families, in
increments as small as 1000 square feet. The ideal spots would be
fertile bits of land with access to rivers and streams for irrigation.
Provisions would have to be made for campsites and for transportation,
allowing people to undertake seasonal migrations out to the land to
grow food during the growing season, and haul the produce back to the
population centers after taking in the harvest.
An even simpler approach has been successfully used in Cuba:
converting urban parking lots and other empty bits of land to raised-
bed agriculture. Instead of continually trucking in vegetables and
other food, it is much easier to truck in soil, compost, and mulch
just once a season. Raised highways can be closed to traffic (since
there is unlikely to be much traffic in any case) and used to catch
rainwater for irrigation. Rooftops and balconies can be used for
hothouses, henhouses, and a variety of other agricultural uses.
How difficult would this be to organize? Well, Cubans were actually
helped by their government, but the Russians managed to do it in more
or less in spite of the Soviet bureaucrats, and so we might be able to
do it in spite of the American ones. The government could
theoretically head up such an effort, purely hypothetically speaking,
of course, because I see no evidence that such an effort is being
considered. For our fearless national leaders, such initiatives are
too low-level: if they stimulate the economy and get the banks lending
again, the potatoes will simply grow themselves. All they need to do
is print some more money, right?
Moving on to shelter. Again, let’s look at how the Russians managed to
muddle through. In the Soviet Union, people did not own their place of
residence. Everyone was assigned a place to live, which was recorded
in a person’s internal passport. People could not be dislodged from
their place of residence for as long as they drew oxygen. Since most
people in Russia live in cities, the place of residence was usually an
apartment, or a room in a communal apartment, with shared bathroom and
kitchen. There was a permanent housing shortage, and so people often
doubled up, with three generations living together. The apartments
were often crowded, sometimes bordering on squalid. If people wanted
to move, they had to find somebody else who wanted to move, who would
want to exchange rooms or apartments with them. There were always long
waiting lists for apartments, and children often grew up, got married,
and had children before receiving a place of their own.
These all seem like negatives, but consider the flip side of all this:
the high population density made this living arrangement quite
affordable. With several generations living together, families were on
hand to help each other. Grandparents provided day care, freeing up
their children’s time to do other things. The apartment buildings were
always built near public transportation, so they did not have to rely
on private cars to get around. Apartment buildings are relatively
cheap to heat, and municipal services easy to provide and maintain
because of the short runs of pipe and cable. Perhaps most importantly,
after the economy collapsed, people lost their savings, many people
lost their jobs, even those that still had jobs often did not get paid
for months, and when they were the value of their wages was destroyed
by hyperinflation, but there were no foreclosures, no evictions,
municipal services such as heat, water, and sometimes even hot water
continued to be provided, and everyone had their families close by.
Also, because it was so difficult to relocate, people generally stayed
in one place for generations, and so they tended to know all the
people around them. After the economic collapse, there was a large
spike in the crime rate, which made it very helpful to be surrounded
by people who weren’t strangers, and who could keep an eye on things.
Lastly, in an interesting twist, the Soviet housing arrangement
delivered an amazing final windfall: in the 1990s all of these
apartments were privatized, and the people who lived in them suddenly
became owners of some very valuable real estate, free and clear.
Switching back to the situation in the US: in recent months, many
people here have reconciled themselves to the idea that their house is
not an ATM machine, nor is it a nest egg. They already know that they
will not be able to comfortably retire by selling it, or get rich by
fixing it up and flipping it, and quite a few people have acquiesced
to the fact that real estate prices are going to continue heading
lower. The question is, How much lower? A lot of people still think
that there must be a lower limit, a “realistic” price. This thought is
connected to the notion that housing is a necessity. After all,
everybody needs a place to live.
Well, it is certainly true that some sort of shelter is a necessity,
be it an apartment, or a dorm room, a bunk in a barrack, a boat, a
camper, or a tent, a teepee, a wigwam, a shipping container... The
list is virtually endless. But there is no reason at all to think that
a suburban single-family house is in any sense a requirement. It is
little more than a cultural preference, and a very shortsighted one at
that. Most suburban houses are expensive to heat and cool,
inaccessible by public transportation, expensive to hook up to public
utilities because of the long runs of pipe and cable, and require a
great deal of additional public expenditure on road, bridge and
highway maintenance, school buses, traffic enforcement, and other
nonsense. They often take up what was once valuable agricultural land.
They promote a car-centric culture that is destructive of urban
environments, causing a proliferation of dead downtowns. Many families
that live in suburban houses can no longer afford to live in them, and
expect others to bail them out.
As this living arrangement becomes unaffordable for all concerned, it
will also become unlivable. Municipalities and public utilities will
not have the funds to lavish on sewer, water, electricity, road and
bridge repair, and police. Without cheap and plentiful gasoline,
natural gas, and heating oil, many suburban dwellings will become both
inaccessible and unlivable. The inevitable result will be a mass
migration of suburban refugees toward the more survivable, more
densely settled towns and cities. The luckier ones will find friends
or family to stay with; for the rest, it would be very helpful to
improvise some solution.
One obvious answer is to repurpose the ever-plentiful vacant office
buildings for residential use. Converting offices to dormitories is
quite straightforward. Many of them already have kitchens and
bathrooms, plenty of partitions and other furniture, and all they are
really missing is beds. Putting in beds is just not that difficult.
The new, subsistence economy is unlikely to generate the large
surpluses that are necessary for sustaining the current large
population of office plankton. The businesses that once occupied these
offices are not coming back, so we might as well find new and better
uses for them.
Another category of real estate that is likely to go unused and that
can be repurposed for new communities is college campuses. The
American 4-year college is an institution of dubious merit. It exists
because American public schools fail to teach in 12 years what Russian
public schools manage to teach in 8. As fewer and fewer people become
able to afford college, which is likely to happen, because meager
career prospects after graduation will make them bad risks for student
loans, perhaps this will provide the impetus to do something about the
public education system. One idea would be to scrap it, then start
small, but eventually build something a bit more on par with world
standards.
College campuses make perfect community centers: there are dormitories
for newcomers, fraternities and sororities for the more settled
residents, and plenty of grand public buildings that can be put to a
variety of uses. A college campus normally contains the usual
wasteland of mowed turf that can be repurposed to grow food, or, at
the very least, hay, and to graze cattle. Perhaps some enlightened
administrators, trustees and faculty members will fall upon this idea
once they see admissions flat-lining and endowments dropping to zero,
without any need for government involvement. So here we have a ray of
hope, don’t we.
Moving on to transportation. Here, we need to make sure that people
don’t get stranded in places that are not survivable. Then we have to
provide for seasonal migrations to places where people can grow,
catch, or gather their own food, and then back to places where they
can survive the winter without freezing to death or going stir-crazy
from cabin fever. Lastly, some amount of freight will have to be
moved, to transport food to population centers, as well as enough coal
and firewood to keep the pipes from freezing in the remaining
habitable dwellings.
All of this is going to be a bit of a challenge, because it all hinges
on the availability of transportation fuels, and it seems very
probable that transportation fuels will be both too expensive and in
short supply before too long. From about 2005 and until the middle of
2008 the global oil has been holding steady, unable to grow materially
beyond a level that has been characterized as a “bumpy plateau.” An
all-time record was set in 2005, and then, after a period of record-
high oil prices, again only in 2008. Then, as the financial collapse
gathered speed, oil and other commodity prices crashed, along with oil
production. More recently, the oil markets have come to rest on an
altogether different “bumpy plateau”: the oil prices are bumping along
at around $40 a barrel and can’t seem to go any lower. It would appear
that oil production costs have risen to a point where it does not make
economic sense to sell oil at below this price.
Now, $40 a barrel is a good price for US consumers at the moment, but
there is hyperinflation on the horizon, thanks to the money-printing
extravaganza currently underway in Washington, and $40 could easily
become $400 and then $4000 a barrel, swiftly pricing US consumers out
of the international oil market. On top of that, exporting countries
would balk at the idea of trading their oil for an increasingly
worthless currency, and would start insisting on payment in kind – in
some sort of tangible export commodity, which the US, in its current
economic state, would be hard-pressed to provide in any great
quantity. Domestic oil production is in permanent decline, and can
provide only about a third of current needs. This is still quite a lot
of oil, but it will be very difficult to avoid the knock-on effects of
widespread oil shortages. There will be widespread hoarding, quite a
lot of gasoline will simply evaporate into the atmosphere, vented from
various jerricans and improvised storage containers, the rest will
disappear into the black market, and much fuel will be wasted driving
around looking for someone willing to part with a bit of gas that’s
needed for some small but critical mission.
I am quite familiar with this scenario, because I happened to be in
Russia during a time of gasoline shortages. On one occasion, I found
out by word of mouth that a certain gas station was open and
distributing 10 liters apiece. I brought along my uncle’s wife, who at
the time was 8 months pregnant, and we tried use her huge belly to
convince the gas station attendant to give us an extra 10 liters with
which to drive her to the hospital when the time came. No dice. The
pat answer was: “Everybody is 8 months pregnant!” How can you argue
with that logic? So 10 liters was it for us too, belly or no belly.
So, what can we do to get our little critical missions accomplished in
spite of chronic fuel shortages? The most obvious idea, of course, is
to not use any fuel. Bicycles, and cargo bikes in particular, are an
excellent adaptation. Sailboats are a good idea too: not only do they
hold large amounts of cargo, but they can cover huge distances, all
without the use of fossil fuels. Of course, they are restricted to the
coastlines and the navigable waterways. They will be hampered by the
lack of dredging due to the inevitable budget shortfalls, and by
bridges that refuse to open, again, due to lack of maintenance funds,
but here ancient maritime techniques and improvisations can be brought
to bear to solve such problems, all very low-tech and reasonably priced.
Of course, cars and trucks will not disappear entirely. Here, again,
some reasonable adaptations can be brought to bear. In my book, I
advocated banning the sale of new cars, as was done in the US during
World War II. The benefits are numerous. First, older cars are overall
more energy-efficient than new cars, because the massive amount of
energy that went into manufacturing them is more highly amortized.
Second, large energy savings accrue from the shutdown of an entire
industry devoted to designing, building, marketing, and financing new
cars. Third, older cars require more maintenance, reinvigorating the
local economy at the expense of mainly foreign car manufacturers, and
helping reduce the trade deficit. Fourth, this will create a shortage
of cars, translating automatically into fewer, shorter car trips,
higher passenger occupancy per trip, and more bicycling and use of
public transportation, saving even more energy. Lastly, this would
allow the car to be made obsolete on the about the same time scale as
the oil industry that made it possible. We will run out of cars just
as we run out of gas.
Here we are, only a year or so later, and I am most heartened to see
that the US auto industry has taken my advice and is in the process of
shutting down. On the other hand, the government’s actions continue to
disappoint. Instead of trying to solve problems, they would rather
continue to create boondoggles. The latest one is the idea of
subsidizing the sales of new cars. The idea of making cars more
efficient by making more efficient cars is sheer folly. I can take any
pick-up truck and increase its fuel efficiency one or two thousand
percent just by breaking a few laws. First, you pack about a dozen
people into the bed, standing shoulder to shoulder like sardines.
Second, you drive about 25 mph, down the highway, because going any
faster would waste fuel and wouldn’t be safe with so many people in
the back. And there you are, per passenger fuel efficiency increased
by a factor of 20 or so. I believe the Mexicans have done extensive
research in this area, with excellent results.
Another excellent idea pioneered in Cuba is making it illegal not to
pick up hitchhikers. Cars with vacant seats are flagged down and
matched up with people who need a lift. Yet another idea: since
passenger rail service is in such a sad shape, and since it is
unlikely that funds will be found to improve it, why not bring back
the venerable institution of riding the rails by requiring rail
freight companies to provide a few empty box cars for the hobos. The
energy cost of the additional weight is negligible, the hobos don’t
require stops because they can jump on and off, and only a couple of
cars per train would ever be needed, because hobos are almost
infinitely compressible, and can even ride on the roof if needed. One
final transportation idea: start breeding donkeys. Horses are finicky
and expensive, but donkeys can be very cost-effective and make good
pack animals. My grandfather had a donkey while he was living in
Tashkent in Central Asia during World War II. There was nothing much
for the donkey to eat, but, as a member of the Communist Party, my
grandfather had a subscription to Pravda, the Communist Party
newspaper, and so that’s what the donkey ate. Apparently, donkeys can
digest any kind of cellulose, even when it’s loaded with communist
propaganda. If I had a donkey, I would feed it the Wall Street Journal.
And so we come to the subject of security. Post-collapse Russia
suffered from a serious crime wave. Ethnic mafias ran rampant,
veterans who served in Afghanistan went into business for themselves,
there were numerous contract killings, muggings, murders went unsolved
left and right, and, in general, the place just wasn’t safe. Russians
living in the US would hear that I am heading back there for a visit,
and would give me a wide-eyed stare: how could I think of doing such a
thing. I came through unscathed, somehow. I made a lot of interesting
observations along the way.
One interesting observation is that once collapse occurs it becomes
possible to rent a policeman, either for a special occasion, or
generally just to follow someone around. It is even possible to hire a
soldier or two, armed with AK-47s, to help you run various errands.
Not only is it possible to do such things, it’s often a very good
idea, especially if you happen to have something valuable that you
don’t want to part with. If you can’t afford their services, then you
should try to be friends with them, and to be helpful to them in
various ways. Although their demands might seem exorbitant at times,
it is still a good idea to do all you can to keep them on your side.
For instance, they might at some point insist that you and your family
move out to the garage so that they can live in your house. This may
be upsetting at first, but then is it really such a good idea for you
to live in a big house all by yourselves, with so many armed men
running around. It may make sense to station some of them right in
your house, so that they have a base of operations from which to
maintain a watch and patrol the neighborhood.
A couple of years ago I half-jokingly proposed a political solution to
collapse mitigation, and formulated a platform for the so-called
Collapse Party. I published it with the caveat that I didn’t think
there was much of a chance of my proposals becoming part of the
national agenda. Much to my surprise, I turned out to be wrong. For
instance, I proposed that we stop making new cars, and, lo and behold,
the auto industry shuts down. I also proposed that we start granting
amnesties to prisoners, because the US has the world’s largest prison
population, and will not be able to afford to keep so many people
locked up. It is better to release prisoners gradually, over time,
rather than in a single large general amnesty, the way Saddam Hussein
did it right before the US invaded. And, lo and behold, many states
are starting to implement my proposal. It looks like California in
particular will be forced to release some 60 thousand of the 170
thousand people it keeps locked up. That is a good start. I also
proposed that we dismantle all overseas military bases (there are over
a thousand of them) and repatriate all the troops. And it looks like
that is starting to happen as well, except for the currently planned
little side-trip to Afghanistan. I also proposed a Biblical jubilee –
forgiveness of all debts, public and private. Let’s give that one…
half a decade?
But if we look just at the changes that are already occurring, just
the simple, predictable lack of funds, as the federal government and
the state governments all go broke, will transform American society in
rather predictable ways. As municipalities run out of money, police
protection will evaporate. But the police still have to eat, and will
find ways to use their skills to good use on a freelance basis.
Similarly, as military bases around the world are shut down, soldiers
will return to a country that will be unable to reintegrate them into
civilian life. Paroled prisoners will find themselves in much the same
predicament.
And so we will have former soldiers, former police, and former
prisoners: a big happy family, with a few bad apples and some violent
tendencies. The end result will be a country awash with various
categories of armed men, most of them unemployed, and many of them
borderline psychotic. The police in the United States are a troubled
group. Many of them lose all touch with people who are not "on the
force" and most of them develop an us-versus-them mentality. The
soldiers returning from a tour of duty often suffer from post-
traumatic stress disorder. The paroled prisoners suffer from a variety
of psychological ailments as well. All of them will sooner or later
realize that their problems are not medical but rather political. This
will make it impossible for society to continue to exercise control
over them. All of them will be making good use of their weapons
training and other professional skills to acquire whatever they need
to survive. And the really important point to remember is that they
will do these things whether or not anyone thinks it legal for them to
do be doing them.
I said it before and I will say it again: very few things are good or
bad per se; everything has to be considered within a context. And, in
a post-collapse context, not having to worry whether or not something
is legal may be a very good thing. In the midst of a collapse, we will
not have time to deliberate, legislate, interpret, set precedents and
so on. Having to worry about pleasing a complex and expensive legal
system is the last thing we should have to worry about.
Some legal impediments are really small and trivial, but they can be
quite annoying nevertheless. A homeowners’ association might, say,
want give you a ticket or seek a court order against you for not
mowing your lawn, or for keeping livestock in your garage, or for that
nice windmill you erected on a hill that you don’t own, without first
getting a building permit, or some municipal busy-body might try to
get you arrested for demolishing a certain derelict bridge because it
was interfering with boat traffic – you know, little things like that.
Well, if the association is aware that you have a large number of well
armed, mentally unstable friends, some of whom still wear military and
police uniforms, for old time’s sake, then they probably won’t give
you that ticket or seek that court order.
Or suppose you have a great new invention that you want to make and
distribute, a new agricultural implement. It's a sort of flail studded
with sharp blades. It has a hundred and one uses and is highly cost-
effective, and reasonably safe provided you don’t lose your head while
using it, although people have taken to calling the “flying
guillotine.” You think that this is an acceptable risk, but you are
concerned about the issues of consumer safety and liability insurance
and possibly even criminal liability. Once again, it is very helpful
to have a large number of influential, physically impressive, mildly
psychotic friends who, whenever some legal matter comes up, can just
can go and see the lawyers, have a friendly chat, demonstrate the
proper use of the flying guillotine, and generally do whatever they
have to do to settle the matter amicably, without any money changing
hands, and without signing any legal documents.
Or, say, the government starts being difficult about moving things and
people in and out of the country, or it wants to take too much of a
cut from commercial transactions. Or perhaps your state or your town
decides to conduct its own foreign policy, and the federal government
sees it fit to interfere. Then it may turn out to be a good thing if
someone else has the firepower to bring the government, or what
remains of it, to its senses, and convince it to be reasonable and to
play nice.
Or perhaps you want to start a community health clinic, so that you
can provide some relief to people who wouldn’t otherwise have any
health care. You don’t dare call yourself a doctor, because these
people are suspicious of doctors, because doctors were always trying
to rob them of their life’s savings. But suppose you have some medical
training that you got in, say, Cuba, and you are quite able to handle
a Caesarean or an appendectomy, to suture wounds, to treat infections,
to set bones and so on. You also want to be able to distribute opiates
that your friends in Afghanistan periodically send you, to ease the
pain of hard post-collapse life. Well, going through the various
licensing boards and getting the certifications and the permits and
the malpractice insurance is all completely unnecessary, provided you
can surround yourself with a lot of well-armed, well-trained, mentally
unstable friends.
Food. Shelter. Transportation. Security. Security is very important.
Maintaining order and public safety requires discipline, and
maintaining discipline, for a lot of people, requires the threat of
force. This means that people must be ready to come to each other’s
defense, take responsibility for each other, and do what’s right.
Right now, security is provided by a number of bloated, bureaucratic,
ineffectual institutions, which inspire more anger and despondency
than discipline, and dispense not so much violence as ill treatment.
That is why we have the world’s highest prison population. They are
supposedly there to protect people from each other, but in reality
their mission is not even to provide security; it is to safeguard
property, and those who own it. Once these institutions run out of
resources, there will be a period of upheaval, but in the end people
will be forced to learn to deal with each other face to face, and
Justice will once again become a personal virtue rather than a federal
department.
I’ve covered what I think are basics, based on what I saw work and
what I think might work reasonably well here. I assume that a lot of
you are thinking that this is all quite far into the future, if in
fact it ever gets that bad. You should certainly feel free to think
that way. The danger there is that you will miss the opportunity to
adapt to the new reality ahead of time, and then you will get trapped.
As I see it, there is a choice to be made: you can accept the failure
of the system now and change your course accordingly, or you can
decide that you must try to stay the course, and then you will
probably have to accept your own individual failure later.
So how do you prepare? Lately, I’ve been hearing from a lot of high-
powered, successful people about their various high-powered,
successful associates. Usually, the story goes something like this:
“My a. financial advisor, b. investment banker, or c. commanding
officer has recently a. put all his money in gold, b. bought a log
cabin up in the mountains, or c. built a bunker under his house
stocked with six months of food and water. Is this normal?” And I tell
them, yes, of course, that’s perfectly harmless. He’s just having a
mid-collapse crisis. But that’s not really preparation. That’s just
someone being colorful in an offbeat, countercultural sort of way.
So, how do you prepare, really? Let’s go through a list of questions
that people typically ask me, and I will try to briefly respond to
each of them.
OK, first question: How about all these financial boondoggles? What on
earth is going on? People are losing their jobs left and right, and if
we calculate unemployment the same way it was done during the Great
Depression, instead of looking at the cooked numbers the government is
trying to feed us now, then we are heading toward 20% unemployment.
And is there any reason to think it’ll stop there? Do you happen to
believe that prosperity is around the corner? Not only jobs and
housing equity, but retirement savings are also evaporating. The
federal government is broke, state governments are broke, some more
than others, and the best they can do is print money, which will
quickly lose value. So, how can we get the basics if we don’t have any
money? How is that done? Good question.
As I briefly mentioned, the basics are food, shelter, transportation,
and security. Shelter poses a particularly interesting problem at the
moment. It is still very much overpriced, with many people paying
mortgages and rents that they can no longer afford while numerous
properties stand vacant. The solution, of course, is to cut your
losses and stop paying. But then you might soon have to relocate. That
is OK, because, as I mentioned, there is no shortage of vacant
properties around. Finding a good place to live will become less and
less of a problem as people stop paying their rents and mortgages and
get foreclosed or evicted, because the number of vacant properties
will only increase. The best course of action is to become a property
caretaker, legitimately occupying a vacant property rent-free, and
keeping an eye on things for the owner. What if you can’t find a
position as a property caretaker? Well, then you might have to become
a squatter, maintain a list of other vacant properties that you can go
to next, and keep your camping gear handy just in case. If you do get
tossed out, chances are, the people who tossed you out will then think
about hiring a property caretaker, to keep the squatters out. And what
do you do if you become property caretaker? Well, you take care of the
property, but you also look out for all the squatters, because they
are the reason you have a legitimate place to live. A squatter in hand
is worth three absentee landlords in the bush. The absentee landlord
might eventually cut his losses and go away, but your squatter friends
will remain as your neighbors. Having some neighbors is so much better
than living in a ghost town.
What if you still have a job? How do you prepare then? The obvious
answer is, be prepared to quit or to be laid off or fired at any
moment. It really doesn’t matter which one of these it turns out to
be; the point is to sustain zero psychological damage in the process.
Get your burn rate to as close to zero as you can, by spending as
little money as possible, so than when the job goes away, not much has
to change. While at work, do as little as possible, because all this
economic activity is just a terrible burden on the environment. Just
gently ride it down to a stop and jump off.
If you still have a job, or if you still have some savings, what do
you do with all the money? The obvious answer is, build up inventory.
The money will be worthless, but a box of bronze nails will still be a
box of bronze nails. Buy and stockpile useful stuff, especially stuff
that can be used to create various kinds of alternative systems for
growing food, providing shelter, and providing transportation. If you
don’t own a patch of dirt free and clear where you can stockpile
stuff, then you can rent a storage container, pay it a few years
forward, and just sit on it until reality kicks in again and there is
something useful for you to do with it. Some of you may be frightened
by the future I just described, and rightly so. There is nothing any
of us can do to change the path we are on: it is a huge system with
tremendous inertia, and trying to change its path is like trying to
change the path of a hurricane. What we can do is prepare ourselves,
and each other, mostly by changing our expectations, our preferences,
and scaling down our needs. It may mean that you will miss out on some
last, uncertain bit of enjoyment. On the other hand, by refashioning
yourself into someone who might stand a better chance of adapting to
the new circumstances, you will be able to give to yourself, and to
others, a great deal of hope that would otherwise not exist.
POSTED BY KOLLAPSNIK AT 3:30 AM
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