There are signs of societal collapse all around us. Cracks are now clearly visible in the key indicators of life and death. What do I mean by that? Suicide rates, depression, anxiety and homelessness are soaring. Loneliness and substance abuse are off the charts. Mainstream faiths are losing believers. Geopolitical tensions are intensifying. Democracy is not working anywhere in the world. Even the most venerable of our institutions are taking random walks, blindly trusting they can rediscover a purpose that makes better sense in an age of moral bankruptcy. Apprehension, blended with a bizarre-like euphoria, hang eerily in the air. And this is affecting relationships of every hue.
Other than those immersed in the hyperbole of technocratic positivism, we seem to be relying on the vain hope of salvation, a sanguine yet vague tactic - challenged daily by realities we still do not yet fully accept. Dread of the future and ennui of the present are commonplace. It’s not only Greta Thunberg and her generation that’s calling this out. When Antonio Guterres, the Secretary General of the United Nations, insists that the world is becoming unhinged but that we seem incapable of coming together in any kind of workable response, we should get that we’re in trouble.
Meanwhile the pain being suffered by some creates detachment or excruciating terror depending on their circumstances. The facade of third world nations we were so quick to deride, while claiming a hollow empathy, has visited the first world as an uninvited guest. And it’s here to stay. It’s as though the very worst attributes of colonialism are now infecting the host.
Universally, the new normal we manufacture helps shield us from going insane, but traps us in a traumatic recital of bad news amplified by lies and trivia and prejudice. The corporate advertising of stuff we want but do not actually need, an ingrained breeding ground for envy and greed, reaches deeply into the interstices of our lives today. From Nike and Tesla to Monsanto, almost all brands, including the most celebrated and virtuous, are finding it impossible to avoid becoming stuck in a cycle of desire and deception. And all of this is supposedly normal and therapeutic.
Life is inherently good. Buy, buy, buy. You will be happier if you buy more stuff is the mantra we’re taught to intone from birth against a backdrop of menacing deterioration, the stench of decay, a loss of spirituality, and the death of our most life-critical systems.
That is what collapse is like. This is how it feels. On the surface everything appears to be normal. We go to work. We continue dating and hanging out with friends. On the weekend we support our local sports team (where we complain about the umpiring) and stroll around shopping malls (where we complain about the rising price of food).
We all secretly anticipate misfortune of some kind - getting slapped down by dismissal, or penury, or global heating, or war, as ash from inextinguishable fires falls from the sky. But that’s not how collapse happens. This is how it happens. Precisely what you are feeling right now. A numbing litany of bad news and failures eating away at the edge of our awareness. Ever mounting outrage and blame. Things just not working as they used to. People suffering and protesting on your doorstep - while you are more focused on whether it might be time to upgrade your iPhone and that you must remember to buy milk at the 7/11 on your way home. If you’re trying to carry on while people all around you are needlessly giving up or dying, then your society is not about to fail. It’s already collapsing.
So it’s Sunday and you’re planning dinner while the world is on fire, war rages in Ukraine and the genocide in Palestine intensifies. But the news headlines are all about Tesla’s dip in its share price, Donald Trump’s latest legal battle, the cost of owning a car in Singapore, and the benefits to the world if all dogs went on a vegan diet… This is normal. This is the banality of life during collapse. Societal collapse does not mean you are personally suffering right now. Far from it. But it does mean that we’re all suffering in some way, shape or form. The task ahead of us is to rebuild our society from first principles. But we all have to go through the pain of collapse if a viable society is to emerge, phoenix-like, from the ashes of the old.
In the 20th century we assumed ascension was only for the the ultra wealthy and possibly the pure of heart. Materialism was our primary religion. Established faiths could not compete. In the 21st century that simply will not do. What do you think should change? How will you deal with the possible collapse of everything you once cherished while remaining true to yourself? Are you ready to adjust to the fundamental transitions ahead?