"Collapse Now & Avoid the Rush" -- Or Not
I've been listening to a newer podcast called "Breaking Down: Collapse" and it's actually a great resource for concisely explaining the whole concept of Decline and/or Collapse to nearly anyone who wants to understand but doesn't have hundreds of hours to do the research themselves. Since I have done that much research over the years, I mainly nod along as I listen. I suppose I'm vetting the podcast, but also reassuring myself that I'm not missing anything. It's also fascinating to reconsider Decline/Collapse in the wake of the Covid pandemic.
Their 22nd episode (I think) they interviewed JMG or John Michael Greer, who I still consider a teacher, but one that has lost some of my respect over the Trump years. Unfortunately, his general good grasp of current events has failed to realize the extent of the "mission creep" of the neo-fascist far right incursions into far too many news sources. That inability to spot what to me is obvious disappointed me. But I still read his blog and consider his viewpoints.
I've found another area where I find myself in partial disagreement with JMG, which is what today's post is about.
He has famously said, "Collapse now and avoid the rush," meaning that if you want to ride out the Decline, it's best to choose a more modest life and stop reaching for luxuries. The acronym L.E.S.S. he gives is "Less Entertainment, Stuff, and Services"-- or something to that effect. And I get and agree with the concept in most ways, the devil is in the details. There are other suggestions he gives that may not work for everyone.
For example, if Cat and I had chosen to totally accept these concepts, we would not now be in a house with even a modest mortgage. We chose to get away from a major population center but remain close to a couple of smaller towns in commuting distance to a major city that is also a tech hub, even if heading for an already collapsed area might be better (to JMG) eventually. Cat did not give up her corporate job. We don't have even a hobby farm really up and running. We haven't really "collapsed."
Instead, we prepared in style. We DID decide to find and manifest a place to settle and eventually retire that was versatile enough for other revenue streams, but it requires some outside help. Cat still struggles with the idea of not being totally independent, but that's just not a reasonable goal for middle-aged and then someday elderly women. We need a community of people, and plenty of people need what we'll be offering now and down the road, so I think this alternate plan may be feasible, but there is still a risk we took on too much and will regret this choice.
My main area of disagreement comes down to the idea of leaving a vital population center that is still in a "bubble." Much of that has popped due to the pandemic, at least for the short-term, but being near areas with a hefty tax base, where they still keep up and even improve the infrastructure, and government steps in to help more directly in a crisis seems like the more prudent choice to me. I understand that getting ready for a more modest era and living more independently in already-collapsed regions of the country may be a good choice for some younger people in their 20s and 30s, but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone over 40, and definitely not over 50!
Working services are a luxury to be sure, but to take yourself away from that resource if you don't have a robust community (even if that's just an extended family) seems remarkably short-sighted! Even JMG himself had to move out of a rural collapsed area into a town next to a larger city that had services his wife required for her health! To his credit, he followed his own advice as best he could for as long as he could-- I respect that. But the fact he couldn't sustain "giving up" modern services just goes to show that that maybe moving to still functioning areas of the country (or next to those areas) is not always a bad idea. Taxes are higher. Prices, especially housing, is much higher. But there are still more jobs and opportunities for a better life for a while longer in such places. It's a trade-off, as such choices often are, and everyone doesn't have the means to find a compromised life with one foot in "modern lifestyle" and another in "resilient for decline." I feel extraordinarily blessed that for now, my roomie and I can still do just that.
I feel that having the best of both worlds, if you can manage it, is probably the best approach right now. I would say, "Line your life up to collapse, but don't throw the towel in just yet if you have a choice." Already, we've seen this first world-wide taste of collapse crisis prove our point: we rode this pandemic out quite easily and comfortably.
Cat was on the fence about the concept of creating a more resilient, but still comfortable, lifestyle. She was a total yuppie who had to have the best of everything, and spent WAY too much money on silly things, living in debt with her mother, who was also a spendthrift. The last 4 years of living with me have upended that. She's more careful, out of almost all debt (but for mortgage), building savings, and making changes to the property so that others can join us here and help defray costs and labor. At one time, her idea of dealing with the concept of collapse was to buy a bug-out property to live on with the notion of being nearly entirely independent, producing nearly all of her own food and many other daily products. It wasn't until I clearly demonstrated how insane the labor would be for that kind of thing that she let go of the "Survivalist Dream" so many think is the answer to Collapse.
But she's been learning swiftly, adapting-- which isn't easy for someone on the spectrum-- and working with me, actually respecting and willing to try out my vision to "ride the slide" in relative ease. It means releasing the notion of "Rugged American Independence"-- but finding a third path that runs between the old way of life and a total embrace of Doomsday. I think we may have found that more sane middle path.
It's not totally ideal, but it's got wiggle-room for gardening, livestock, and other projects. We have some nature, but we're not cut off from civilization. Half the property is out of a flood zone and we're more than 25 feet above sea level. We'll have to do more for summer drought fire conditions, that's for sure, clearing out some underbrush and lower tree branches in our small forest area-- but it's do-able over time. I can accommodate a disabled sister and friends will always have a safe emergency shelter, but we can welcome heartier roommates who can assist in upkeep and offer some revenue as well. And... if we're sensibly frugal, we can actually be okay here. We can ride out short-term emergencies and have options for longer-term disruptions.
And we don't have to really "collapse" at all.
Which is not the answer for everyone, and certainly Cat's decent big city job and our lack of kids to pay for is a factor that makes this sort of thing even possible. Everyone has to stare the darker future ahead of us in the face and make their own decision on how to deal with it. Some jobs (medical or certain trade jobs like electrical or plumbing) offer much more versatility and options than others. But for those with a choice, is choosing to collapse early really the best idea? I'm a bit doubtful. As someone who has dealt with a lower-class life and faced what being already collapsed really means, I admit I hoped there was another way. Having perhaps found it-- I hope we made the wiser choice.