In my second book, Burying the 20th Century, published in 1999, I warned of the imminent collapse of many of our most life-critical systems. My observations pointed to the need for the burial of old and obsolete assumptions in order to better inform civilizational renewal. Since then very little has changed, except on the surface of our perceptions. Many people seem to believe that everything is fine; that we can fix all of the problems facing us. Others are lacking such confidence and increasingly anxious that we're not doing nearly enough, fast enough.
As the war in Ukraine continues, China-US tensions escalate, and a few Israeli citizens begin to mourn the loss of moral authority their country once had, we continue to hear whispers of imminent extinction. This is a truth from which we turn away. It is unthinkable that our species will not endure. Yet anxiety and fear insist on fueling a sense of foreboding that just hangs in the air like a dawn mist. The potential for a nuclear accident, climate chaos, pandemics like the one we recently experienced, creeping authoritarianism, economic disparities, technological disruption, and geopolitical jostling for power are just a few of the factors concerning us.
Unsurprisingly Hollywood and Netflix pick up these themes, shaping a narrative that holds many of us spellbound – or traumatized. After watching documentaries like Seaspiracy and David Attenborough's A Life on this Planet it seems as though we might be inviting extinction with open arms.
Most people tend to dismiss such claims as implausible. Just look at the world we have crafted through generations of ingenuity and determination, they assert. It is unthinkable that major coastal cities could be under water by the end of this century. It is equally unthinkable that we might empty the oceans by commercial fishing by 2048, destroy most top soils from industrial agriculture by 2060, or accidentally trigger a nuclear war that would destroy all life on the planet.
Be that as it may, humans share a deep cognitive inability to face up to existential crises of this nature. We willingly ignore the facts, clinging to the hope that scientists are wrong or their models inaccurate. We convince ourselves that corporations are not selfish and governments would take instant action to protect us if any of these elements could put humanity in clear and present danger. And if, by any stretch of the imagination, any of them did turn out to be true, then we would just invent a new technology to solve the problem. Case dismissed.
But what if we are not up to that task? What if it all happens so quicky that we are caught napping? What if we are already on the edge of societal collapse? Surely it would be best to exercise the precautionary principle used in medicine and to address any doubts we might have by changing what we do and how we do it – especially if it also generates a safer, cleaner, healthier and more viable society?
Others will insist we are already taking sufficient action in any number of ways. They will point to the pledges by various nations to reduce greenhouse gas emissions to net zero by 2050. They will argue, as in the past, that possessing stockpiles of nuclear weapons on active standby is a deterrent against their use. They will see gene editing, and gain-of-function trials on viruses as legitimate ways to cure disease. They will argue that industrial fishing and agriculture is the only way to feed a population of more than 8 billion people. They will bow to the billionaires as they plan their escape routes. And if they want to live longer lives they might even see the dream of digital immortality by 2048 as a bonus.
But all of these events without exception, including the most virtuous and well-intentioned, alongside many entrepreneurial initiatives that simply add to a stockpile of stuff we do not need, skirt around the main dilemmas that trap us in prisons of our own invention.
Capitalism has changed its traits and visage yet again from industrial economism to a form of neo-feudal "cloud capitalism” dominated by the large technology barons. Empires compete more vociferously, not fully comprehending that they are mortally wounded. Biospheric conditions are deteriorating much faster than scientists thought possible. And the general public continues to be entertained by media balancing pap and propaganda. This is what societal collapse looks and feels like - a stealthy, sneaky collapse.
Our global civilization could yet end with a bang or a whimper. The only sure thing is that most of the beliefs on which we've built our society, along with everything we cherish, are under threat as collapse becomes inevitable. There are really only two questions worth asking now: Are we wise enough to survive our own success? And if so, what will it mean to be human in tomorrow's world?