This is the final installment in the Metastatic Modernity video series (see launch announcement), putting the meta-crisis in perspective as a cancerous disease afflicting humanity and the greater community of life on Earth. We have arrived at the part where people say: “yeah, but what can I do?” I hope that I can offer solid suggestions that are more satisfying than frustrating. But I’m just winging it, here. Shutting down modernity is not something any of us have experience doing, so we’ll all have to wing it.
As is the custom for the series, I provide a stand-alone companion piece in written form (not a transcript) so that the key ideas may be absorbed by a different channel. The write-up that follows is arranged according to “chapters” in the video, navigable via links in the YouTube description field.
Introduction
Faced with the towering set of concerns raised in this series, and the glaring unsustainability of modernity—which is not only familiar and comfortable, but seemingly essential for modern survival—it is natural that a top-of-mind question for many is: What Can I Do?
The suggestions that follow won’t be a list of things to buy, or tricks of habit—in the style of a TED talk—but more of a guide as to how to think, interpret, and make decisions in your life. A changed attitude and perspective will change your actions and degree of engagement in perpetuating modernity. In the unlikely event that these attitudes catch on, modernity will find itself with a waning customer base and have no choice but to wither.
Easy and Hard at Once
Unlike most calls to action, my recommendations don’t involve writing to representatives, donating to programs, or protesting in the streets. That’s because such activities engage “the machine” of modernity and attempt to influence its institutions and power structures. To me, that approach implicitly assumes that the machine is the correct apparatus, and that its institutions are our only avenue—for better or worse.
Because I consider modernity to be a cancerous aberration that is rapidly destroying the ecological foundation upon which all life depends—including ourselves as inseparable members—the endpoint I imagine looks different. That is to say, if humans are to have a long future on the planet—measuring tens or hundreds of thousands of years—then chances are it can only be in an ecologically-integrated manner very much unlike modernity: local, varied, and non-technological—in the modern sense of the word.
While an argument might be made to somehow utilize the institutions of modernity to shut off the machine and wind itself down, I am skeptical of that “inside” approach and prefer instead a simple turning-away from the institutions and cultural expectations. In that sense, my recommendations are easy: just say no to modernity. What’s hard about it is that we hubans don’t know how to live without the institutions upon which we have come to depend. We’re pampered poodles—in large numbers—being asked to live more like coyotes.
But, it’s important to realize that the change won’t be sudden anyway. It may take centuries, in fact, to fully play out. I say: let’s get started. Step one is to lose faith in modernity, which will naturally stimulate folks to seek other ways to do things. For me, changes in attitude and intent come first, which is what the following suggestions aim to facilitate. I offer below ten suggestions, each accompanied by examples of how this manifests in my own life, in practice.
First, here are the ten suggestions in list form, to get a quick sense of the content to follow.
- Go Easy on Yourself
- Let it Go
- Walk Away
- Embrace Disillusionment
- Accept Some Losses
- It Gets Easier
- Double-Edged Brains
- Lesser Evil
- Pick a Team
- Regain the Lost
1. Go Easy on Yourself
You or I will likely never get it “right.” It’s not a matter of “nailing it,” or achieving some elusive perfection. This is a major predicament, meaning that there are no tidy solutions. Appropriate responses are far from simple or clear, and will take both time and adjustment.
Also appreciate that appropriate responses will evolve. It’s a moving target: the view changes at each step. Unseen options emerge. Routes that looked promising before may turn out to be impractical or impossible. So don’t get locked in. Be dynamic, adaptable, and situationally aware.
Don’t burden yourself with finding final answers or solutions—like we’re even capable! Just head in a direction that makes sense given the immediate situation. Work out next steps as you go. It is important not to be paralyzed, waiting on some full map of the route that we’ll never have in our lifetimes (or ever, really). Just concentrate on moving away from the fire!
In Practice
I keep the “flood” quote in mind, here, as featured in Episode 15: we can’t swim in water that’s ankle-deep. We’re deeply enmeshed in a culture and system that won’t let us adopt the ways of the future just yet. I would be jailed for violating property rights (among other things) if I tried to live in ecological balance with a band of “wild” humans. So, I still live in a house, sometimes drive a car, and use electricity. I know this isn’t the “right” way, ultimately, but I also recognize that I am a product of modernity and will be slow to change—especially given the inertia of the social context in which I am embedded. As “products of modernity” like myself naturally die off, the replacement humans will grow up in a different context and simply adapt to new realities. We don’t have to complete the transition ourselves, but just try to get it started in order to help future generations carry the baton farther, as gracefully as might be done.
Basically, I don’t flog myself for not being perfect. Hypocrisy is a hobgoblin of rigid minds. I can’t avoid enacting a glaring disconnect between long-term ideals and short-term realities. But I work at it and move the needle.
2. Let it Go
Don’t cling to transitory baubles. Modernity is full of useless distraction. Spend some time considering what you will value when looking back from your life’s end.
Adopt a “hospice” mindset toward modernity. Emotionally let go. Modernity was an impossible and naive dream: out of ecological context and ridiculously damaging. It might be viewed as a lesson in brains gone amok.
In Practice
I frequently look around me and identify elements “not of this world,” meaning things that have no ecological context and are therefore temporary constructs. From cities to hay bales, many things our eyes land on are ecological novelties that are not integrated into a web of life in reciprocal relationship—standing the test of time via the judgment of evolution. The fraction of untested arrangements meeting our eyes changes when we venture into undeveloped areas.
This exercise begins the process of detaching from modernity: seeing its products as untested intrusions, likely to eventually fail on timescales that are short compared to evolution. The resulting awareness helps me to shed modernity-perpetuating attachments.
3. Walk Away
Many of our practices and institutions only make sense in the context of modernity, and therefore don’t make sense in the larger sense. That’s my ten cents. My two cents is free. How do you spend your time? How much of that is in service to modernity or its expectations? Granted, jobs tend to serve modernity, but for many are presently a necessary means for getting fed. Some jobs are more modernity-boosting than others, so it might be worth exploring options that might be less friendly to modernity and more friendly to life in its many forms.
Similarly, what activities, hobbies, charities, causes, and social groups do you devote some part of yourself to? Which of those are a net benefit vs. net harm to biodiversity and ecological health (vs. human-only causes)? It’s okay to ask yourself: why am I really doing this? Habit? Unexamined beliefs? Simple pleasures? I’m not saying that’s not real/valid, that I’m free of all such things myself, or that hair-shirts are in order. I’m just encouraging greater self-awareness around things that keep modernity going.
In Practice
Well, I walked away from an academic career at age 53, which some would call financially unwise. But I didn’t believe in the job anymore, and was primarily employed to churn out productive elements to feed modernity. I should acknowledge that my decision to retire early involved an unusual combination of lucky circumstance and privilege. In any case, my interests seldom involve purchases, which happens to pair well with early retirement. I say “no” to many invitations or requests that I think serve modernity over the community of life. Yes, I still do things that make no sense (see Item 1 above), but surely will take on bolder change over time.
4. Embrace Disillusionment
It’s okay to lose hope in empty fantasies, like modernity. It might seem like the sort of thing we should fend off, but it’s healthy and generative to lose faith in modernity, which must fail anyway. Losing enthusiasm for modernity helps us make those choices that let modernity (and its adherents) down.
Don’t be cowed by modernity boosters (human-supremacist; huban meings) who may be disappointed in your choices. Modernity won’t end without lots of boo-hoo-ing by those who can’t let go, emotionally. If you’ve made peace with its passing, you won’t be as rattled, and can keep your wits about you.
When others express their sense that it seems like things are going downhill, support them in the assessment, and maybe shift the focus to the upside of losing some of the damaging trappings.
In Practice
An earlier post of mine called Confessions of a Disillusioned Scientist is one personal expression of my disillusionment. I also paid zero attention to the James Webb Space Telescope results and images. Friends who count on me to provide astrophysical insights at a lay level have been at least disappointed, and in some cases surprised or stunned. It’s not that I find no value in cosmological perspectives or discovery. I’m just saturated, I suppose, and possess a different set of drivers these days. Politically, I still vote for people who I think will be more sane—especially in crisis—but have no great hope that even successful pursuit of their fantasies will put us in a better place. I no longer lose a moment’s thought to how our country or state or whatever will get out of its pickle via policy: because it won’t. Disillusionment has its advantages: I’m less wound up about insoluble problems that will die with modernity.
I don’t know how important it is, but accepting the death of modernity is—to me—not that different from accepting my own death—and without the emotional loophole of believing I’ll continue in some eternal state of being. It helps to think of modernity as a cancer, and humans as the temporary victims (along with a multitude of other suffering species).
5. Accept Some Losses
Don’t fight necessary reversals, as many will try to do. For instance, population decline will come sooner or later. In the best case, it deflates on its own accord. The young may be telling us something in their reproductive choices as global fertility plummets. Many will shrilly declare population decline to be a disaster in need of immediate remedy. They are correct in recognizing that institutions will struggle and fade in the wake of population decline, but that’s actually okay. It might cause some sadness, as when a loved one enters Hospice care. But it has to happen so that the world can move on and recover from modernity’s ills.
If humans are to have a long and happy tenure on Earth, it will be in much smaller numbers, living far more modestly, and in a more ecologically-integrated way. Eight billion people using modern conveniences does not appear to be part of any viable plan. We probably need to simply accept that fact. It is not misanthropic to wish for a long, satisfied human population, even if that means far fewer people on the planet at any given time. In accepting a smaller future, we wish no one ill. The best case scenario involves self-correcting demography. But whatever the case, we presently have the wolf by the ear, metaphorically, and won’t magically keep the current situation going. Something big must give, and we can do our small part to support a graceful transition—by not clinging to the ear.
In Practice
I don’t fret over lost capabilities, like supersonic passenger service, or the Space Shuttle retirement, or the shuttering of a business chain. We’re going to see much more of that as modernity winds down, and a steady stream is less chaotic than a sudden cascade. Even if I lose something I enjoyed, well, on balance it’s almost certainly for the better.
Acceptance is also easier on the blood pressure: I don’t get worked up over losses, when those losses are part of the slow and inevitable winding-down.
Part of the practice is one of humility. I’m just lucky to be part of life. I claim no “rights” and don’t pretend to “deserve” anything. I accept that I am not entitled to anything I might want: I’m not somehow more important than the community of life.
6. It Gets Easier
Appreciate that it gets easier to be a modernity-leaver over time. It is similar to getting over a failed relationship or adjusting to the loss of a loved one. The scars may never completely heal, but it gets easier—especially if a new source of meaning or joy emerges. Given that we are social beings, it also gets easier as more people around us follow similar paths. As we adjust to the path, the scene is set for the next steps that take us progressively farther from modernity.
In Practice
I’m not really “there” yet, as we’re still in early days. It’s definitely getting easier to let go of elements of modernity the longer I occupy that space. But I seldom encounter others on the same page, and look forward to having more company as the future unfolds.
7. Double-Edged Brains
Our imaginations are a double-edged sword. We’ve seen what they can do when unmoored from ecological context. But they might still be our greatest asset if applied within “right relationship” to the community of life.
One might say that rapid cultural evolution—enabled by our brains—is our superpower. We have, unfortunately, deployed this power in the worst, most adolescent way—seeking short-term gains for humans alone. But in principle, we could use the same tool for wisdom, restraint, gratitude, and humility—rather than being clever, limits-averse, entitled, and hubristic as the hubans of modernity have tended to be.
Part of the journey will be exciting and adventurous. Lean into that: what discoveries await about who we are and how we can tuck into ecological relationships?
In Practice
This particular thrust is newer to me, so I am still finding my footing. One prong has been calling plants and animals “geniuses” whenever I observe any behavior that I (honestly) would not confidently know how to do myself—which turns out to be most things I observe other beings doing. Another prong is trying to be more circumspect; being aware of our tendency toward brain-worship, and skeptical of any claimed “solutions.” The real world is not stripped of context the way our mental models necessarily are. Brains are not all-powerful, but just handy tools for fashioning shortcuts.
On the “lean in” front, I spend more time observing and learning from nature, which is both rewarding and an adventure. I have learned from wasps, squirrels, newts, birds, and more. I also enjoy the challenge of thinking outside modernity: uncharted territory for me that carries reward.
8. Lesser Evil
When faced with a tough decision—say between Option A and Option B—which path feeds modernity? Which is closer to hospice? If both support modernity in roughly equal measure, is there an option C? Freed from a sense of duty to modernity or its advocates, some out-of-the-box thinking might be relevant.
In Practice
Sometimes I ask a question like: “What would the squirrels have me do?” What decision would they cheer? The answer might not determine the outcome, but it can exert a substantial influence.
A very “modernity” example: My 11-year-old PHEV battery is down to 50–60% of its original capacity. Should we get a new PHEV that has greater electric range, a full EV, replace the battery in our present PHEV, or live with what we have? None of these are modernity-free, but the first two are far more taxing on the community of life. Two years into confronting this question, we’re still on the last option (least harmful). We also exercise “Option C” in the sense that we deliberately drive less frequently and bike more often. It’s not a sudden, perfect “fix,” but important steps along the path toward perhaps eventually phasing out. Remember that it doesn’t have to happen suddenly, and that we are still only ankle-deep in the rising flood (our way of living is still set up around cars).
9. Pick a Team
Team Modernity—a.k.a. The Human Reich—is founded on human supremacism, is ecologically ignorant, has initiated the sixth mass extinction, is a terminal condition, and believes itself and its members to be transcendent (beyond biology)—standing apart/alone as masters of creation.
Team Life is about community, respect, and humility. It considers all lives to be in this together, and knows that we humans are nothing without the whole: not separable from the community of life, and completely dependent on the health of the whole.
A person might charge that I am presenting a false choice: imagining (proclaiming?) that we can have our cake (modernity) and eat—I mean support—the community of life, too; that there is no fundamental incompatibility. After all, it works in their head, right? Well, I can make it work in my head, too (by setting aside loads of context), but so what? I can do lots of things in my head that are not biophysically possible. Options appear easier the more ecologically ignorant one is—and we will never be free of ignorance on this front. What matters is the real world, and modernity has shown its woeful incompatibility in practice by initiating a sixth mass extinction.
In Practice
When listening to a political speech, reading an article, watching a show, or listening to others, I ask myself: which team is this coming from? Is this an expression of human supremacism? Would this idea be be a net benefit or a net harm to the community of life? Would the squirrels cheer? Do they even know about Team Life? Not surprisingly, most of our culture is firmly in the Team Modernity camp—which boasts an impressive winning streak over Team Life: really crushing it! Except winning in this context translates to catastrophic loss in the end.
As a wannabe member of Team Life, I spend more time absorbing the natural world: listening and learning. I talk to animals (and plants sometimes, too). The point isn’t whether they understand my syntax, but to establish a relationship of some sort—even if just in my head—and express admiration. I tell peeping chicks in nests that they’re going to be amazing and do just great and enjoy the hell out of flying in a few days’ time. I discuss weather with the fawns. I ask the newts where they go when it’s dry out. I compliment the Douglas squirrel on its genius.
Also coming to mind is a phrase I often return to in one form or another: Treat nature at least as well as we treat ourselves, to the enduring benefit of all life. I’m lucky to be a part of nature, after all.
10. Regain What We’ve Lost
It is no coincidence that we squabble and become polarized over how we ought to live. It’s because we’re making it all up, out of context, and as such no arbitrary scheme is fully defensible. We make up “rights” to please ourselves and then argue about them. In the process, we have created ways of living that displace most of the older sources of meaning.
Life before modernity offered deep relationships with the surrounding community of life and with those in our supporting group. The degree of support we’ve given up has been a huge loss that I think we grieve over without realizing it. When everyone in your group was working for the collective good, everyone had value and had each others’ backs. The support was darned-near unconditional. Now we isolate ourselves into unnaturally small households and no longer even require a great degree of support from those units, as modernity provides emotionally empty substitutes to satisfy material needs. For me, the fascinating documentary film “Behind the Curve” about flat-earth believers really opened my eyes to the importance that community and unconditional support have to us, and that we might seek replacements in peculiar places as a substitute for what we lost.
On the ecological front, by disconnecting ourselves we lose a daily sense of awe and deep meaning to life. It may be why many folks are attracted to natural settings on vacations. We can try to build more time for existing in relationship to nature back into our lives as we proceed along this path.
In Practice
I’m not very far along in this journey. But I pay more deliberate attention to building local relationships and community than I used to. I’m making more progress on the ecological integration front by spending more time outside looking, listening, and learning. I value people more for what they might offer in a non-modernity context. Our culture values highly-skilled professionals trained to “modern” exceedingly well. I now value the versatile, friendly, calmly appreciative individual more than I would have before. But I’m just starting out.
Closing
Well, that’s it! I don’t feel that this last installment is particularly strong: not my forte. But I hope it is helpful to some, all the same. I don’t possess any magic when it comes to letting modernity pass. But since I think it must happen, and since humanity need not tie itself to modernity, I hope we can learn to let go and rediscover our strengths.
