Basic Primtivism Refresher
by Jason GodeskyThis was originally posted to Tim Boucher’s Pop Occulture blog, where there’s been much recent discussion of primitivism in general, and the Tribe of Anthropik specifically. That, and other discussions, have pointed to the need to retread some basic ground regularly. I hope we won’t become bogged down in such basic arguments, but for those new to the site or to primitivism in general, I hope this summary can be helpful.
What is the “baby” we should be careful to not throw out [with the bathwater] here? Is it art? Medicine? These are universals, shared by all human cultures. As I argued in thesis #22, Western medicine is simply our own ethnomedicine. We, like the people of any culture, believe our medicine to be the most effective and all others to be mere superstition, but this is mere ethnocentrism. The simple fact of the matter is that a shaman in the jungles of Peru has the same sort of success rate with his patients as a modern doctor in a good hospital. In thesis #24 I discussed the profundity of “primitive” art, easily on par with our own. For example, though unwritten, Pygmy songs have for millennia maintained a polyphonic complexity that Europe was unable to rival until the 14th century. Or is it knowledge? Surely, civilization has given us knowledge we would not otherwise have…? Again, not really; in thesis #23, I touched on some of the immense indigenous knowledge we dispensed with at the beginning of the civilized project. We’ve gradually worked our way back to about where we started, so the whole thing’s something of a wash. Robert Wolff’s Original Wisdom is the type of book I’d think Pop Occulture readers could appreciate, though I personally prefer David Abram’s Spell of the Sensuous.
So what is the “baby” here? Philosophy? Theology? Religion? See Paul Radin’s Primitive Man as Philosopher, but I would stack the Australian Dreamtime against Augustine’s Civitas Dei for theological or philosophical depth any day of the week. These are the things we usually mean if we say “civilization,” in any kind of positive sense. But these are human universals. Of course, we hold our own as superior to all others, whether in medicine or art or philosophy, but this is simple ethnocentrism. Is there any meaningful sense in which we can use “civilization”?
Some people have tried to make “civilization” a mere synonym for “culture,” but I don’t think this works. Do we feel comfortable talking about an “Inuit civilization” or a “Pygmy civilization”? Perhaps the most open-minded of us, but I think in general most of us find a certain discomfort with those phrases. In thesis #13, I explored the issue of what civilization is, and I wrote:
Etymologically, the origins of the word “civilization” lay in the Latin word civis, often translated as “city,” but perhaps more accurately translated as “city-state.” The Roman Empire was a patchwork of civitates, fulfilling a role not terribly far removed from states in the U.S., though the Roman Empire was less influenced by notions of Cartesian space and more interested in spheres of influence. The Roman Empire was, in fact, a hierarchy of such smaller imperial dominions; the Pater familias was emperor of his family, and the magistrate was the emperor of his civitas. Strictly speaking, a civis was the “citizen” of such a civitas, but the word was also applied to the sense of “city-ness,” as well as the city itself.
Etymology, then, gives us our first workable definition: “civilization” is a culture of cities.
I then went through the primary criteria of civilization defined by anthropologist Vere Gordon Childe, and argued that they actually caused one another. In other words, they’re a package deal; it takes very exceptional circumstances to have just one or two of the five criteria, without the rest following. So we’re talking about a very special kind of culture when we refer to a civilization: it’s a culture with cities, and all that comes with that. Hierarchy. Specialization. Wealth and poverty. Social classes. The state.
Have I redefined “civilization” here arbitrarily? Is this merely a game of semantics? I don’t think so. We use the word without much thought, but we still feel uncomfortable calling some societies “civilizations,” even though they clearly have cultures. I don’t think this is a semantic game or a redefinition at all; rather, I think this is trying to pin down this elusive phrase to something more precise. This has a great deal of value, because we are talking about a discernable system, and we must understand what it is that defines that system—what makes it uniquely itself, what makes it different from the rest.
So, where is the “baby” we’re in danger of throwing out with the “bathwater”? The “slimy underbelly” is all that civilization is. It doesn’t have any redeeming part. There is no baby. What’s worth saving—art, music, philosophy, medicine, knowledge, etc.—are things universal to all human cultures. The only things unique to civilizations—the things that make them civilizations—are the patterns of control and domination. That’s all they are.
That’s the first thing we need to understand, that all the good things we associate with civilization are uiversal, shared by all cultures, civilized and uncivilized alike. They’re all far, far older than civilization. They belong to humanity, not to civilization.
The second thing we need to understand is what a bizarre aberration civilization truly is. The Agricultural Revolution was a mere 10,000 years ago, but the genus Homo has been around for some two million years. So, civilization has only existed for the last 0.5% of our time on this planet. To use the analogy Jared Diamond drew in his famous “The Worst Mistake in the History of the Human Race” (agriculture):
Suppose that an archaeologist who had visited from outer space were trying to explain human history to his fellow spacelings. He might illustrate the results of his digs by a 24-hour clock on which one hour represents 100,000 years of real past time. If the history of the human race began at midnight, then we would now be almost at the end of our first day. We lived as hunter-gatherers for nearly the whole of that day, from midnight through dawn, noon, and sunset. Finally, at 11:54 p. m. we adopted agriculture.
And for most of the time that civilization has existed, it has not been the dominant system. Foragers continue to survive even today, flourishing in ecologies where our agriculture is utterly useless. The spread of civilization has never been voluntary. We do not have one example of any forager culture willingly adopting agriculture—ever. Yet we have example after example after example of foragers who fought to the death against it, who would rather die that to submit to civilization. As J. Hector St. John de Crevecoeur wrote in his Letters from an American Farmer:
There must be in the Indians’ social bond something singularly captivating, and far superior to be boasted of among us; for thousands of Europeans are Indians, and we have no examples of even one of those Aborigines having from choice become Europeans! There must be something very bewitching in their manners, something very indelible and marked by the very hands of Nature. For, take a young Indian lad, give him the best education you possibly can, load him with your bounty, with presents, nay with riches, yet he would secretly long for his native woods, which you would imagine he must have long since forgot; and on the first opportunity he can possibly find, you will see him voluntarily leave behind all you have given him and return with inexpressable joy to lie on the mats of his fathers.
Or, as Benjamin Franklin put more succinctly:
No European who has tasted Savage life can afterwards bear to live in our societies.
Sitting Bull could easily see why, of course:
White men like to dig in the ground for their food. My people prefer to hunt the buffalo as their fathers did. White men like to stay in one place. My people want to move their tepees here and there to the different hunting grounds. The life of white men is slavery. They are prisoners in towns or farms. The life my people want is a life of freedom. I have seen nothing that a white man has, houses or railways or clothing or food, that is as good as the right to move in the open country, and live in our own fashion. … The white men had many things that we wanted, but we could see that they did not have the one thing we liked best—freedom. I would rather live in a tepee and go without meat when game is scarce, than give up my privileges as a free Indian, even though I could have all that white men have.
Or, as Daniel Quinn put it so well:
Kids of all ages run off to join the circus. No one runs off to join Disney World.
In other words, civilization has been experienced as so deeply dehumanizing by everyone at all times in all places that in 10,000 years, no one has ever gone to it voluntarily. Indeed, civilization has expanded to new cultures only on pain of death. That’s how much it was hated by those who knew what another way of life was like. This is where primitivism comes from: an appreciation for uncivilized life. In truth, most primitivists do not spend much time on collapse. Authors like Daniel Quinn, John Zerzan or Derrick Jensen see civilization in primarily ideological terms, as a system of belief. Jensen and Zerzan see civilization as something that must be violently toppled; Quinn sees it as a mindset that needs to be out-taught so that it will slowly fade away (his concept of “Beyond Civilization” is, like Richard Heinberg’s “Powerdown,” one of our most optimistic possibilities, I think).
In many ways, I was one of the first primitivists to bring collapse into the picture. The foregoing facts were first brought to my attention by Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael. Inspired by his optimistic vision, I pushed further, asking how large groups become swayed to new ideas. That line of inquiry deflated any hope I once held for Quinn’s scenario.
Because culture is anything but arbitrary. It’s the means by which we adapt to a given environment, the way that a computer’s operating system adapts software for a given set of hardware. The human brain is ready-made for culture: our disgust reaction, for example, is felt very deeply and strongly (as it has to be), but what disgusts us is very cultural. We absorb our cultures in an incredibly deep and profound way. There are cultures that see different colors, and cultures that cannot connect photographs to their three-dimensional subjects. That’s how deep and powerful culture is.
Every culture has some amount of complexity. As Joseph Tainter writes in Collapse of Complex Societies:
Complexity is generally understood to refer to such things as the size of a society, the number and distinctiveness of its parts, the variety of specialized social roles that it incorporates, the number of distinct social personalities present, and the variety of mechanisms for organizing these into a coherent, functioning whole. Augmenting any of these dimensions increases the complexity of a society. Hunter-gatherer societies (by way of illustrating one contrast in complexity) contain no more than a few dozen distinct social personalities, while modern European censuses recognize 10,000 to 20,000 unique occupational roles, and industrial societies may contain overall more than 1,000,000 different kinds of social personalities. …
As a simple illustration of differences in complexity, Julian Steward pointed out the contrast between the native peoples of western North America, among whom early ethnographers documented 3,000 to 6,000 cultural elements, and the U.S. Army, which landed 500,000+ artifact types at Casablanca in World War 11 (Steward 1955). Complexity is quantifiable.
But Tainter also pops the notion that there is a natural tendency towards greater complexity.
The conventional view has been that human societies have a latent tendency towards greater complexity. Complexity was assumed to be a desirable thing, and the logical result of surplus food, leisure time, and human creativity. Although this scenario is popular, it is inadequate to explain the evolution of complexity. In the world of cultural complexity there is, to use a colloquial expression, no free lunch. More complex societies are costlier to maintain than simpler ones and require higher support levels per capita. A society that is more complex has more sub-groups and social roles, more networks among groups and individuals, more horizontal and vertical controls, higher flow of information, greater centralization of information, more specialization, and greater interdependence of parts. Increasing any of these dimensions requires biological, mechanical, or chemical energy. In the days before fossil fuel subsidies, increasing the complexity of a society usually meant that the majority of its population had to work harder.
Tainter takes this farther: complexity is a function of energy.
Human societies and political organizations, like all living systems, are maintained by a continuous flow of energy. From the simplest familial unit to the most complex regional hierarchy, the institutions and patterned interactions that comprise a human society are dependent on energy. At the same time, the mechanisms by which human groups acquire and distribute basic resources are conditioned by, and integrated within, sociopolitical institutions. Energy flow and sociopolitical organization are opposites sides of an equation. Neither can exist, in a human group, without the other, nor can either undergo substantial change without altering both the opposite member and the balance of the equation. Energy flow and sociopolitical organization must evolve in harmony.
Not only is energy flow required to maintain a sociopolitical system, but the amount of energy must be sufficient for the complexity of that system. Leslie White observed a number of years ago that cultural evolution was intricately linked to the quantities of energy harvested by a human population. The amounts of energy required per capita to maintain the simplest human institutions are incredibly small compared with those needed by the most complex. White once estimated that a cultural system activated primarily by human energy could generate only about 1/20 horsepower per capita per year. This contrasts sharply with the hundreds to thousands of horsepower at the command of members of industrial societies. Cultural complexity varies accordingly. Julian Steward pointed out the quantitative difference between the 3,000 to 6,000 cultural elements early anthropologists documented for the native populations of western North America, and the more than 500,000 artifact types that U.S. military forces landed at Casa Blanca in World War II.
More complex societies are more costly to maintain than simpler ones, requiring greater support levels per capita. As societies increase in complexity, more networks are created among individuals, more hierarchical controls are created to regulate these networks, more information is processed, there is more centralization of information flow, there is increasing need to support specialists not directly involved in resource production, and the like. All this complexity is dependent upon energy flow at a scale vastly greater than that characterizing small groups of self-sufficient foragers or agriculturalists. The result is that as a society evolves toward greater complexity, the support costs on each individual will also rise, so that the population as a whole must allocate increasing portions of its energy budget to maintaining organizational institutions. This is an immutable fact of societal evolution, and is not mitigated by type of energy source.
This leads to Tainter’s central thesis, that complexity is subject to diminishing returns, and that it is this course of diminishing returns which is the ultimate cause of all collapse, regardless of the proximate cause. He reinforces his idea with examples of collapse from the archaeological record, as well as the modern Ik in Uganda. I have summarized his arguments in my own thesis #14. Tainter argues that collapse is an economizing process that happens when the alternative is no longer tolerable. But Tainter believes we cannot collapse, because we are enmeshed in a peer polity system. Of course, peer polity systems have collapsed before—see the Maya—but the only difference is, they do not collapse as individual states, but as a peer polity system. Either they all collapse at once, or no one does. In thesis #15, I break with Tainter by applying his own model to our current situation, and concluding that we are past the point of diminishing returns for our complexity—and thus, poised for collapse.
What does it mean to be beyond the point of diminishing returns for complexity? It means inventions come more slowly, and when they do come, they’re less revolutionary. It means that a new bureaucracy is more likely to create red tape than actually accomplish something. It means that our means of solving problems are diminished, even as the pace and severity of our problems—exacerbated by the high energy needs of our complexity—is increasing. I know it’s tempting to pin the blame for what happened to New Orleans last year on Bush’s incompetence, but the fact of the matter is that we cannot expect to handle the situation as well as Galveston did in 1900. In 1900, we were not yet past the point of diminishing returns. Today, we are. That is the difference between Galveston and New Orleans—that’s what it means to be beyond the point of diminishing returns for complexity. It means you can no longer solve some of the problems you used to be able to solve. It means solutions become harder and more expensive, while the energy demands rise higher and higher.
Eventually, people begin to realize that they can get the same effect, for less energy, by living in a simpler manner. But complexity is a unified phenomenon. Tainter again:
A society increasing in complexity does so as a system. That is to say, as some of its interlinked parts are forced in a direction of growth, others must adjust accordingly. For example, if complexity increases to regulate regional subsistence production, investments will be made in hierarchy, in bureaucracy, and in agricultural facilities (such as irrigation networks). The expanding hierarchy requires still further agricultural output for its own needs, as well as increased investment in energy and minerals extraction. An expanded military is needed to protect the assets thus created, requiring in turn its own sphere of agricultural and other resources. As more and more resources are drained from the support population to maintain this system, an increased share must be allocated to legitimization or coercion. This increased complexity requires specialized administrators, who consume further shares of subsistence resources and wealth. To maintain the productive capacity of the base population, further investment is made in agriculture, and so on.
The illustration could be expanded, tracing still further the interdependencies within such a growing system, but the point has been made: a society grows in complexity as a system. To be sure, there are instances where one sector of a society grows at the expense of others, but to be maintained as a cohesive whole, a social system can tolerate only certain limits to such conditions.
Thus, it is possible to speak of sociocultural evolution by the encompassing term ‘complexity,’ meaning by this the interlinked growth of the several subsystems that comprise a society.
In growth, complexity takes on a life of its own: more complexity yields still more complexity. In collapse, the same happens in reverse. In “thesis #20, I compared collapse to a run on an over-evaluated stock.
The process of catabolic collapse becomes self-reinforcing, as individuals decide that further complexity is not a worthwhile investment and refuse to make further investments, which makes the prospect even less attractive to other individuals. In the same manner as a “run” on a given company’s stock, the process of catabolic collapse snowballs quickly, until support for a complex society drops so low that that society can no longer be maintained. A “freefall” of lowering complexity follows, until it reaches a level where the marginal returns for it have become favorable again, and people are willing to invest in it again.
With complexity, we get to a more precise understanding of “civilization” than the mere “city culture” we left with before. Civilization is a culture with a unique problem-solving strategy. Its answer to every problem is to increase complexity. To invent something, or appoint someone, or establish a committee, or research something, or run some tests. We are caught in a growth cycle of ever-increasing complexity requiring ever-increasing energy, and creating an ever-larger scale society. We are already far beyond any reasonable human scale society. This is the root of that alienation that has been universally feared and hated in civilization since its very beginning. And by its very nature, civilization can only get worse.
So we see why civilization is inherently unsustainable: it is, at its most basic root, a culture in growth. It is among cultures what a cancer is among cells. It grows without limit, without regard to the other systems it is enmeshed in and coexists with, largely—I understand you’re familiar with David Abram’s Spell of the Sensuous and have mentioned it here before?—because we no longer recognize ourselves as part of it. In the very same manner, cancer cells grow without limit because they have begun to unravel their telomeres—they can no longer recognize healthy cells as part of the same body. As Kenneth Boulding put it:
Anyone who believes exponential growth can go on forever in a finite world is either a madman or an economist.
If growth ever stops, or even slows down, our civilization—which depends on exponential growth to survive—will collapse. How could it be otherwise? The alternative would be to believe that infinite growth is possible in a finite world. “Sustainable growth” is an oxymoron, and there’s one thing all unsustainable systems have in common: they’re never sustained. I’m laying the tautologies on heavy here to make a point: the collapse of our civilization is not in question. It is tautological. Just the same as the reindeer of St. Matthew’s Island had no choice about whether their population would crash, so, too, are we well beyond the point where anything can be done to change our fate. I don’t know if people have free will or not (we’ve certainly never shown any evidence of that in our past), but I do believe in cause and effect. If we did have a chance to go a different way and avoid this, it was not in any of our lifetimes: it was 10,000 years ago, when we decided to plant some wheat rather than continue following the herds. Since then, the only choice we’ve had is how, and when, we want to face the consequences of that.
For 10,000 years, we’ve consistently decided that “when” should be “later.” We’ve come to the brink of collapse a few times, enough to notice the pattern. Sometimes, a deus ex machina will come to save us at the last minute (though, more often, it doesn’t). All the previous collapses were staved off by technologies or possiblities that were already there, but considered too expensive or low-quality to bother with, until the crisis deepened. It’s unclear whether we have any such possibilities to save us this time—solar might, but that’s questionable. We may have finally run out of delays. But the other thing we’ve learned from these near misses is that each reprieve gives us more time to grow, and that growth puts us in an even worse position the next time collapse looms. Had we collapsed in the Bronze Age, it would have killed millions, and devastated the Mediterranean. Now there are billions of us, and we’ve devastated the whole world. What will happen if we miss this, too? Trillions, and the extinction of all life on this planet? We’re in the midst of the worst mass extinction the earth has ever seen, and it’s being driven entirely by us—or, more accurately, because such an intensely complex civilization as ours, and still growing, cannot afford to share the world with much of anything else.
This is why I have so little optimism for plans like Quinn’s or Heinberg’s. Either they will be too little, too late, and have no effect, or they will have an effect, which will be to make a significant dent on our constant growth. After all, logically, any system is either growing or not growing—there is no third, intermediate option. Either such gradual schemes will do nothing to stop our growth and be useless, or they will be effective in slowing our growth, which will then escalate into more and more withdrawal. Such plans have a choice between being completely ineffective, or causing the collapse they seek to avoid.
Of course, I doubt they’ll do that. Humans are good at making up stories, and we make up stories that make us feel better all the time, to justify things we know can’t be sustained. We won’t want to pass up the possibilities to have more energy and more things, so we’re more likely to run into collapse at a full tilt.
So, what are the implications of all this? Is this misanthropic? I think it is not misanthropic at all. After all, to explain why humans have so many problems in civilizaton, we need to invent stories like original sin: humans are innately bad, and that’s why we always feel so ill at ease in the civilization G-d destined us to build. That’s why we chafe under our rightful leaders. That’s why we feel vaguely unfulfilled and alienated by our glorious complexity. How is this not misanthropic? Rather, primitivism says that it isn’t humans who are the problem, but civilization, and one of the worst problems with it is that it is so deeply dehumanizing. Primitivism suggests that freedom and equality are the natural human condition—human nature. It suggests that we chafe under leaders because humans don’t want or need leaders; that we feel alienated in large-scale society, because large-scale society doesn’t serve human needs. Civilization turns humans into cogs; primitivism builds communities for people.
The violent elements of primitivism are not the ones who embrace collapse, but those who don’t, those like Zerzan or Jensen who believe that ideology exists independent of physical reality, and that civilization must be violently destroyed or it will perpetuate itself forever.
So what do we do?
Collapse is inevitable. It’s actually the best thing that can happen to us now (which tells us just how terrible a situation we’re really in). One way or another, voluntarily or not, with our awarness or not, this brief experiment is coming to a quick and catastrophic end. How do we deal with that?
That’s the really big question. How do we deal with that? How do we cope with that?
You say that understanding this provides a place for true misanthropes to air a disturbing lack of compassion, and as we’ve seen, that’s absolutely true. My question is … so what? Darwin provided the same, didn’t he? The Nazi party owed much of its foundation to certain philosophical notions of race and society derived, ultimately, from the theory of evolution. Should the possibility that some people will cope with an unpleasant truth poorly convince us not to believe what the facts so clearly indicate? Should we reject natural selection and evolution for the same reason?
Primitivism brings with it a truth as unpleasant as evolution, but just as undeniably true. People will react poorly to it, but that says nothing as to whether or not it is true. Rather than “throwing the baby out with the bathwater,” and rejecting the basic fact that civilization is unsustainable simply because some might be led to misanthropic implications, I think we should instead fight against those implications, and argue all the more forcefully for the preservation of our humanity in the last death throes of such a dehumanizing, murderous force. Civilization cannot be sustained; no system based on infinite growth ever can be. We cannot afford to allow the road beyond civilization to lay in the hands of misanthropes and terrorists. For the sake of our species, we cannot.
Okay. Thanks. I’ll shut up now.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 2:14 PM
Of course, there are variations in primitivism–Zerzanian primitivism, and Jensenian primitivism, which are flawed.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 2:14 PM
We do not have one example of any forager culture willingly adopting agriculture—ever. Yet we have example after example after example of foragers who fought to the death against it, who would rather die that to submit to civilization.
Wait–doesn’t this work both ways? We also have examples of civilized peoples who die rather than become foragers.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 2:17 PM
And also, just because people question or attack your beliefs does not mean that they are not aware of them–they could be quite aware and disagree.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 2:23 PM
Oh, and from the comments I’ve read in “5 Common Objections to Primitivism,” you mention that Charles C. Mann’s 1492 estimated the population of North America at 200 million. Yet, in “Pop Occulture,” you argue that Charles C. Mann’s work that he estimated 10 million. Obviously, 10 million might be realistic, but what was Charles C. Mann’s original number? You can claim something, but not make a false claim toward someone else.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 2:30 PM
With complexity, we get to a more precise understanding of “civilization” than the mere “city culture” we left with before. Civilization is a culture with a unique problem-solving strategy. Its answer to every problem is to increase complexity. To invent something, or appoint someone, or establish a committee, or research something, or run some tests.
This does not make sense as an absolute. Businesses routinely downsize, or decrease complexity. My father worked at a company (Motorola) that has laid off thousands of workers and downsized, and was laid off himself. It solved a problem to decrease its complexity and did not collapse.
There are also examples of complexity decreasing, like the fall of the U.S.S.R. without total collapse.
And, of course, as the “Exceptions that Prove the Rule” series shows, certain underbelly elements of civilization exist in non-civilized societies. The Kwakiutl had specialization, and wealth inequalities. The Iroquois and the Polynesians expanded. But were they civilizations, since they did not have “cities?”
And societies have been able to re-arrange their complexity and decrease energy use without total collapse. The U.S. did decrease its energy consumption in the 1970s without collapsing. If growth requires energy, then our civilization will collapse if it stops growing, why didn’t the U.S. collapse in the 1970s? Why didn’t Cuba entirely collapse even though it decreased its energy consumption by half?
So it does not make sense to me that every decision is made by increasing complexity.
As for high birth rates, mentioned in Pop Occulture, wouldn’t high death rates offset the population growth caused by high birth rates? I think that expansion occurs because of soil/ecosystem/resource depletion more than population growth. Population growth occurs when the society expands, but the society expanded because it could not support its current population on its now-degraded farmland.
And of course, your saying to “plant some wheat instead of follow the herds” is metaphorical, but horticulturalists can plant wheat without expanding, and still follow herds. But I understand the point.
It just does not make sense that growth is inherent to civilization, regardless of what you say. Even the Prisoner’s Dilemma is confusing–why would people all over the world without communication react the same way? I haven’t heard this claimed anywhere outside of this site, and since it is true that there are exceptional places where agriculture can sustain itself, I just don’t get it. I don’t think that an absolute like growth being inherent to civilization can be proven. I agree that unlimiting growth must end in collapse, but some growth is not inherently unsustainable.
Okay, I’ll shut up. I’m going to die because I just cannot juggle all the different opinions on the Internet. You assert your points, but then, I could easily go on another website where someone else asserts something completely different. Heinberg is not a primitivst, and Greer, another collapse theorist, does not believe civilization is inherently unsustainable. They won’t change their minds any more than you will.
And I’m not going to debate emotional points–I do not feel dehumanized in this large-scale society, and in fact, enjoy my hierarchal domination. I enjoy living in my metropolis. I do not feel like I am a prisoner, and feel sad I cannot pursue my dream job. I feel like primitivism turns me into a prisoner, binding me by the inevitable collapse of my society that is not believed by everyone–you believe it is not in question, but then, others do not, as you point out. Everyone has convincing arguments to justify their points–I just don’t know who is right anymore. But arguments must be based on ideas. Your argument of civ’s inherent unsustainably is based on the absolute idea that civ must growth. Should that be debunked or disproven, so would any ideas based upon that assertion.
The fact that no one else I know sees civ this way (and people who know I talk with primitivists think that they are mentally ill) proves to me that how people feel about civ is totally subjective. Sitting Bull’s point about us being prisoners in towns while we are free to roam is based on how you feel about it–could I not argue the opposite, they they are forced to roam while a civilized person can choose to settle? Like I said–it’s subjective, based on what you believe. I also agree with Ran Prieur in his essay “The Effects of Highly Habitual People” which can be found on his website that humans are creatures of habit who prefer to find a groove and stick with it. I think that the fact that foragers resist civ does not mean that civ is dehumanizing, it means that they are accustomed to the forager groove. But many people in civilization are accustomed to the civ groove, and resist equally. Resistance works both ways, and as Ran Prieur has said, “Resistance to change has appeared in all human societies.”
I’m going to step out of this world. I just don’t get it. You’ll assert your points just like others will assert theirs. You might be right or wrong, but naturally, everyone thinks they are right. I’m not asking you to change your mind–few people do anyway.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 3:29 PM
So we’re talking about a very special kind of culture when we refer to a civilization: it’s a culture with cities, and all that comes with that. Hierarchy. Specialization. Wealth and poverty. Social classes. The state.
But again, to many people all of that is beneficial (especially cities). To them, that is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Philosophies are subjective. Many people like cities (myself included). My parents loved urban living, and resented having to move to the suburbs to raise their children. Belief in their unsustainability is different than whether or not you like or dislike something, or whether or not who believes in “x” or “y” will live or die.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 4:08 PM
I can also see why Quinn’s plan would fail–most people in civilization are comfortable living in their hierarchal urban villages or small towns, and would not see on purely philosophical arguments. Powerdown is different, however; powerdown is based on an argument of societal change due to resource depletion. Yet I do not see Quinn talk about resource depletion much. Quinn’s world of people walking away is based on the idea people would want to walk away from a miserable existence–but people don’t. Most people I know think that living in communities of less than 150 is a stifling, lonely experience, and urban areas are beautiful places because of their large populations.
This, I think, is one of the flaws of primitivism–primitivists can see civilization only in terms of dehumanization, misery, and alienation, only forgetting they are the fringe, and that many people are happy in civilization. Your argument that everyone who knew another life prefers it fails because it does not explain why civilized people who know about a tribal existence, like our anthropologists who live with tribal people, don’t go out and live there permanently? I think this is based on where you are born. Most civilized people prefer civilization; most primitive people prefer living primitively. For every person that thinks that living in a settled village is stifling, like Sitting Bull, there will be people who believe otherwise.
This is why I do not believe that ideology succeeds. When it does, it becomes totalitarianism. Since most people do not want to walk away, and could not understand walking away or why it is important, Quinn’s plan would require martial law in order to be concieved, where a dictator would force people to live in tribes to preserve egalitarianism. Most people do not see hierarchy as stifling and evil, and urban dwellers like their cities, suburban dwellers like their suburbs, and when I visit small towns of 1000-2000 people, there is a cry among the youth to get out and go to the city as soon as possible. They also do not understand Dunbar’s number, and how hierarchy is required for large populations. And to them, it is a necessary evil–since they like large social stratification.
Indeed, why is specialization so bad and unsustainable? Specialization occurs because people are not created equal. Some people are talented in some things and not others, and that’s why people specialize. In societies where people do not specialize, what do you do when there is someone who cannot do something essential for the tribe? What if someone is good at gathering but not good at hunting? Many people I know believe that that is one of civilization’s benefits, that we can do many more things than we want to rather than just hunt and gather or be horticultural. The limitations of horticulture are stifling, according to them, and agriculture allows people with the freedom that complexity offers–to be urban or rural.
In “The Fifth World” you seemed to argue that human societies would be limited because of people’s ideology and desire for egalitarianism. That does not make sense. What does make sense is environmental limitations; if horticultural production limits village size to 300 people, people will have to limit themselves due to their physical reality. But that is different than saying that somehow people will only live in small villages due to egalitarian ideals (even though those ideals might arise from the physical reality of horticulture).
I also think that while arguments about overpopulation and the requirement of mass death to reenact the primitivist utopia are arguments against the philosophy of primitivism, as well as defending oneself against being a genocidal maniac, arguing that they are inevitable due to overshoot is not primitivism–William Catton, the author of Overshoot, is no primitivist, but he still believes in overshoot. Yet, for some reason, the primitivst is thought of as a genocidal maniac yet Catton is not. I believe this is because William Catton does not place his emotions about “evil” civilization in his book, whereas primitivists not only believe civilization is unsustainable and collapse is inevitable, they want it to go down because people are miserable there.
This seems to me to be the definition of bias; if you hate civilization, you’ll try to find evidence that it will go under, if you love civilization, you’ll try to debunk that evidence. I’m biased to because I don’t hate civilization, so I won’t accuse you of it. But people need to try their best to separate their emotional beliefs with their research on the facts. However, many people have stated “facts” that have proven to not be facts–technofix optimists believe they are stating “facts,” after all, when they argue their position.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 6:47 PM
So there is a baby. The defining criterion of civilization. That’s what people mean with the “throwing out the baby with the bathwater.”
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 6:48 PM
After all, who would willingly die? If billions must die in order to make foraging possible, how could anyone walk away? That is why, I think, the philosophy of primitivism in itself is sick–if civilization were sustainable, and it was possible for 6.5 billion people to live sustainably, then advocating a return to tribal life (which would require mass death) would be morally unacceptable. The population argument also debunks the emotional arguments–sure, people might be miserable, but at least they are alive with agriculture, which, if horticulture cannot feed billions of people, would be the only way they could live. The instinct to survive overrides ideology, even with foragers resisting civilization.
As for overshoot and trophic levels, humans do exist at a high trophic level, but that explains our foraging carrying capacity. Because foraging is not the only sustainable subsistence strategy, our sustainable carrying capacity is based on the maximum population supported by sustainable means of subsistence. Logically, if industrial agriculture was sustainable, the earth could support 6.5 billion people. It can’t because the means of supporting it is not sustainable, not just because of our high trophic level. Farming really does lower our trophic level as long as it is sustained, as we have seen.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 6:54 PM
Finally, civilizations have not grown equally. China and Egypt may have grown, but did not go beyond the Levant (Egypt) or beyond Tibet (China). How do you explain China and the fact that it did not grow exponentially and stuck to growth within a certain part of the world, and that it has been around for 6000 years without collapsing back to a pre-civ state?
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 7:04 PM
After all, I’ve yet to find someone outside of Anthropik that argues that civilization MUST grow.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 7:05 PM
And I do not feel alienated in civilization, despite my autism that makes it impossible for me to shut up. God, I’m so pathetic.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 7:07 PM
I also notice a contradiction in your writing. You often state that civilization is coming to an end–yet you also point out that there will still be reduced pockets of civ, and even argue where those regions might be (e.g. the Middle East) even centuries from now. You even give a list in the Fifth World of where a few of those surviving civilizations might be. How do you explain this?
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 7:09 PM
Thanks for the post, Jason. I’m overwhelmed with all the possible ways that the collapse will play out that are posted on the internet. I am sure, though, as you are, that only hunter/gatherer life ways stand a chance over a long time. I personally foresee a collapse taking place piecemeal over a decade or two, and I hold out hope of finding people willing to become a tribe with me. Meanwhile, I’m getting out while I can, learning how to survive during the transition. (Though I think I would be dropping out even if I didn’t know the crash was coming!)
Comment by casemeau — 18 September 2006 @ 7:09 PM
I love comment number one for its extremely prophetic pronouncement
Comment by some random dude — 18 September 2006 @ 8:56 PM
Indeed, why is specialization so bad and unsustainable? Specialization occurs because people are not created equal. Some people are talented in some things and not others, and that’s why people specialize. In societies where people do not specialize, what do you do when there is someone who cannot do something essential for the tribe? What if someone is good at gathering but not good at hunting? Many people I know believe that that is one of civilization’s benefits, that we can do many more things than we want to rather than just hunt and gather or be horticultural. The limitations of horticulture are stifling, according to them, and agriculture allows people with the freedom that complexity offers–to be urban or rural.
Correction. I am aware that specialization requires a level of surplus by food producers (agriculture or exceptional foraging like the Kwakiutl). I also must retract what I meant about the dilemma with societies that do not specialize but have people that do not know things that are important to the tribal society. I just do not understand why it is bad. I am interested, though, in how tribal societies deal with people who have problems doing some of the things necessary for a society–intelligence is not created equal.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 10:56 PM
…since they do not have the energy to allow for specialization. I’m not arguing this here either.
Comment by Taylor — 18 September 2006 @ 10:58 PM
I haven’t seen all of Jensen’s older work, but as of Endgame, he is not making the argument that civilization can continue indefinitely if not toppled.
Comment by scruff — 19 September 2006 @ 1:47 AM
Ok, ignore my last comment. Having now read the pop occulture thread, I can see that the representation you’re giving is particular to your precise definition of collapse.
Comment by scruff — 19 September 2006 @ 6:18 AM
Taylor, stop. Chill. Take a deep breath and count to ten. Please, please research and try some meditation techniques.
I’m only going to respond to one statement:
[quote]But people need to try their best to separate their emotional beliefs with their research on the facts. [/quote]
You’ve read the 30 theses, you’ve been over the site. I know you have criticisms, and that’s not at all a bad thing. With respect to the fact that we all color our views with our emotions to some extent, I do hope that you can at least see that Jason has gone very far out of his way to keep emotional judgements (if not responses) about civilization to a minimum and that he backs up his opinions with facts. As we are all aware, facts can be misconstrued and misinterpreted, this is one way we get different opinions. But that does not mean that Jason is “rigging” his conclusions to suit his personal preference as you imply here.
With regard to much of the comments you’ve posted on this thread, I suggest you print out the 30 and some of the more pertinent articles and spend some time aranging them in front of you, make notes with sticky’s and make notes in margins. After few hours, I think you’ll find all of Jason’s likely responses to your above comments. I’m not saying you’ll agree with those responses!
But that’s okay…
Comment by jhereg — 19 September 2006 @ 9:06 AM
But that does not mean that Jason is “rigging” his conclusions to suit his personal preference as you imply here.
I am not saying that Jason is. But I am saying that I do not understand why primitivists try to impose their emotions on other people. They paint a world where people are miserable in civilization, but I have yet to see that proven. I have yet to find people who are miserable in civilization that I actually know, except for the primitivists themselves making that claim. So the reality I see painted by primitivism is not the reality I experience.
I understand Jason has tried to find facts to back up his opinions. I have to. Yet I am confused because the facts I have found do not always support Jason’s claims.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 9:18 AM
I also speak up because I am confused when I see objectionable facts not mentioned here by Jason, and wonder if Jason has considered them when doing his research. Jason is often very cut-and-dry about certain things, and then I see objectionable examples that break the “cut-and-dry” rules that Jason talks about. This is likely semantics–to Jason, a rule can still be a rule even with its exceptions. But I believe that if an exception is found to a rule, it is unfair to call it a rule, but a tendency, and that exceptions disprove more specific rules but prove larger rules.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 9:25 AM
Example: Jason says one thing. Someone else says something that contradicts Jason and has backing for his claim. This confuses me, since I don’t see a rebutal by Jason, and I wonder who is right. So I ask Jason, and then I just find more and more rebutals on other sites that confuse me even more. So that’s why I get like this. I ask myself: Since Jason has not written a rebutal, how can he explain why that other claim is false if his claim is contradictory? Otherwise, I could consider that person right.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 9:31 AM
I recomended this article to a freind, so I don’t have a basic problem with it, hink it’s a great refresher,but I think you misrepresent Zerzan and Jenkins position.
I think collapse is inevitible, but how much correction for error are you giving here? Plus or minus what? A hundred years?
Are you going to live to be a 120? For us mortals, I think its worthwhile to think about how to dismantle civilization quicker. I think things can get a lot worse, Nuclear war, to say the least. Most likely the Tar sands will get mined and the shale then that will run out.
We could turn to nuclear power and have all those kinds of problems, their could be nuclear wars over the last remaining resources. I mean, sure ,civilization will collapse after a Nuclear winter. Wouldn’t it be better to try to bring it about sooner?
Comment by Ted Heistman — 19 September 2006 @ 9:55 AM
Taylor,
Do you object to diversity of thought ? How are a bunch of anarchists glong to all agree on everything?
Comment by Ted Heistman — 19 September 2006 @ 9:58 AM
Quinn:
Wanted: some one interested in saving the world (all the people)
We need a civlization that can fly!
Jenkins:
“Let’s bring down civilization and bring back the salmon! Screw people I want wild salmon!”
Zerzan:
Math is evil. Art is evil. Pygmies can see the moons of saturn with an unaided eye.
( still like him though)
Comment by Ted Heistman — 19 September 2006 @ 10:04 AM
For some data showing that the health of early agriculturalists dropped significantly from their H/G forbears…
Health & Diet Impacts (Native Californians):
http://64.233.167.104/search?q=cache:CSGN4EwP3jUJ:www.anth.ucsb.edu/faculty/walker/publications/PLW%25202002%2520WH%2520California+health+decline+of+early+agriculturalists&hl=en&gl=us&ct=clnk&cd=4
Shift from Hunting/Gathering to Agriculture:
http://64.233.167.104/search?q=cache:4LMGzy4SOm0J:monkey.sbs.ohio-state.edu/bioarch/PDF/Animal%2520Source%2520Foods%2520and%2520Human%2520Health%2520during%2520Evolution.pdf+health+decline+of+early+agriculturalists&hl=en&gl=us&ct=clnk&cd=10
I think that this alone is reason to suggest that since civilization is tied to agriculture and agriculture is tied to poor health that civilization is harmful to humanity. Perhaps not proof, but certainly it’s at least a reasonable conclusion.
[quote]I am not saying that Jason is. But I am saying that I do not understand why primitivists try to impose their emotions on other people.[/quote]
I’m sorry, but it very much seems as if you just [b]did[/b] say that…
[quote]I also speak up because I am confused when I see objectionable facts not mentioned here by Jason, and wonder if Jason has considered them when doing his research. Jason is often very cut-and-dry about certain things, and then I see objectionable examples that break the “cut-and-dry” rules that Jason talks about. [/quote]
Yes, Jason is very often quite “cut-and-dry”, which I agree often leads to confusion to readers who are not extremely familiar with the bulk of the work. If you look, you’ll find the acknowledgements of the exceptions. One of the reasons I suggested you start making print outs and thoroughly examine them.
[quote]This is likely semantics–to Jason, a rule can still be a rule even with its exceptions. But I believe that if an exception is found to a rule, it is unfair to call it a rule, but a tendency, and that exceptions disprove more specific rules but prove larger rules.
[/quote]
Well, you’re right it [b]is[/b] mostly semantics. But let’s look at the part that [b]isn’t[/b] semantics. Specifically, the implication that there is a larger rule (or rules) which the exceptions imply and/or prove. Do you have a larger rule in mind? Are Jason’s rules w/ exceptions truly devoid of the larger context? Which method provides a clearer view of what works and what doesn’t work in terms of both sustainability and human needs? Does an exception necessarily disprove a specific rule?
Now, I’m not actually looking for answers to these, I’m just trying to help you become comfortable with the material on this site (even if you don’t agree with it!).
Comment by jhereg — 19 September 2006 @ 10:51 AM
Taylor, you’ve never met even ONE person who’s miserable in civilization who is NOT a primitivist?
You’ve obviously never been (or had a friend who is) an administrative assistant.
(Sorry, I know I always derail the high intellect around here. Please carry on.)
Comment by neighbor — 19 September 2006 @ 11:43 AM
[quote]You’ve obviously never been (or had a friend who is) an administrative assistant.[/quote]
roflmao!!
classic!
Comment by jhereg — 19 September 2006 @ 11:58 AM
Taylor, I know plenty of non-primativisits (at least they are not yet) who are made miserable by civilization, although they may not realize it. Just think of the masses and masses of people on anti-depressants. Are they all naturally “chemically imbalanced”? How did humanity get by before SSRIs?
Coming to terms with the horrible feelings civilization provides is not pleasant, not at all. I am reluctant to really urge anyone to do it, so dismal is the experience. Most people spend a great deal of energy to mask or suppress these realizations, or chalk it up to a youthful phase, “Wow, glad I got over that!”. Using distractions such as drugs, videogames, TV, and the endless treadmill of material questing (gadget lust)… this is all pretty obvious when you take a step back and look.
Not many people want to dwell on their misery. They may find it a personal shortcoming of some sort. They may be afraid to realize or admit that they are “crazy”. However, in a deep, honest conversation with nearly anyone of average intelligence, you will quickly find that nearly everybody feels crushed by society, their job, the obligations of bills and rent and mortgages and insurance, the IRS, law enforcement, politics, wars they may not support, and so on.
I know I feel it, I do feel like a slave forced to go to my job in order to pay fees or risk homelessness/imprisonment. I resent civilization every morning when I notice the fresh, cool air and the birds chirping, and I must trudge into my airless office so that I won’t be evicted from the tiny scrap of land I am graciously allowed to occupy by my landlord.
It is Jason’s blunt and lucid addressing of this situation that has attracted me to study primitivism; it honestly had not ever occured to me as a viable answer to the ills of civilization. So, Taylor, perhaps you need to meet a broader spectrum of people. There are many, many full participants of civilization who are made miserable by its “gifts”. The levels of awareness span from none to full, but I suggest if you wish to denounce these observations, you tally the number of people you know who are -truly- happy. Chances are they have escaped the system to some degree. They are likely to be poor artists, craftspeople living very simply in order to do their calling, downshifters or “dropouts”, outlaws, or somehow independantly wealthy and able to indluge their creative and intellectual passions unrestrained.
Comment by mantid — 19 September 2006 @ 1:19 PM
Yes. Most people want to live their lives in civilization. No one wants to see it in collapse.
That’s because despite the softening of what collapse is by primitivists–I do not see it as freedom. If Godesky’s predictions are right, it is the end of everything I know–universities, colleges, cities, suburbs, my suburban community. There’s no way a college or university could survive collapse, colleges cannot be supported by horticulture or foraging, for example.
Everything I have known my whole life–my entire community, my local school and my local museums, will perish. Who would want that? All of my loved ones, my friends, will die. My life will come to an end. My life’s goals will be done with. I will never be the person I wanted to be because my society must collapse and come to and end. I wanted to be a teacher’s aide in a school for a child with special needs. I’ve been presenting about autism around the country. Collapse shatters this dream as it shatters the lives of billions of people.
Contrary to what Jason says, St. Jerome’s message is no hyperbole. The whole world did not die, but the lives of millions of Romans were shattered. I’m suprised where you concluded that there was continuity during the Dark Ages of Rome–especially since 90% of the Western Roman population perished. I don’t know how anyone could call that continuity.
Obviously, if it cannot be supported or is not sustainable, I will have to make peace with that. What angers me about primitivism is not the arguments that cities, suburbs, farming, or small towns are inherently unsustainable, but the inability to accept diversity of thoughts on those things. Unless I am mistaken, primitivists can only see these things as miserable things that should die, and forget that despite the misery other people feel, no one would want to see this come crashing down. That is what angers me about primitivism.
I can accept that some people are miserable. But I disagree with an absolute world painted by primitivism. I disagree with the absolute claim of foragers having a far superior life, and I do not think that listening to foragers argue that is sufficient evidence for that claim. I think that that is subjective to each person. Collapse will increase the quality of life to people who loathe civilization, but you cannot deny that it will decrease the quality of life to many others. It is reasons like this that make me disgusted by primitivism.
I also think the primitivist argument that small-scale societies are the only way human needs can be provided is a false absolute. My human needs are provided just fine now in civilization; I have an identity, and will be graduating high school with a career plan. My human needs are being provided just fine.
I disagree that there is no baby to civilization. I think you have oversimplified the matter when you argue that civilization will not mean the end of art, music, and knowledge. I do agree this in an absolute sense, since they do appear in those societies, but I would argue that the reason why people complain is because in civilization, there is so much more variety in everything. Art is so much more complex and diverse, with cinema, comic strips, and different types of art. There is jazz, blues, zydeco, classical, reggae, rap, country, etc., and in a tribe there are very few types of music. I think that you mislead people when you argue that foraging and horticulture allow for more diversity–when you fail to realize that because our culture is quite complex, it is very diverse, and allows for a lot of diverse livelihoods and human occupations!
I don’t have to just garden or hunt, I can be so many different things in civilization in a large-scale society. I could not be this in a pre-civ society. Civ is not “nasty, brutish, and short” to me. I can be a specialist, and whether or not this is sustainable is another issue, I cannot see why it is bad–it enables people to show their talents. That’s not wage slavery at all–and most people I know do not see themselves as slaves. I would feel stifled in a smaller society–and that’s why I choose to die.
In reality, I just don’t know what to believe anymore. Godesky says “x.” Greer says “y.” Heinberg says “z.” Zerzan says “a.” All seem convincing to me. I just believe that I must remain agnostic. Come what may–because I won’t be around to see any of these things unless Holmgren happens to be right and suburbia can be supported by permaculture. That’s not an argument proving Holmgren, it’s just a logical statement.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 1:26 PM
mantid, thank you for saying what I couldn’t in my disbelief…
I’d also like to consider the thought that perhaps there’s something to be said in Taylor’s observation and that is perhaps it’s true that the majority of those who really examine their discontent (and don’t flee from it in the myriad ways this society offers) recognize it for what it is and recognize that among the options for maintaining our humanity (or beauty, or however you choose to call it), is a turning away from ingrained civilization as much as possible - sometimes in the direction of primitivism. In that case it’s tautological if primitivism= any discontent with civ. and only people discontent with civilization are primitivists (as in Taylor’s assessment)…
(jhereg, I knew that would resonate with somebody)
Comment by neighbor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:20 PM
wow. how’s that for a run-on. sorry.
Comment by neighbor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:30 PM
Mantid:
Yes, but I think that this works both ways: You can see your misery, but can you be open to the fact that many people enjoy what makes you miserable?
Also, regardless of what people might say, I have yet to find someone except for a primitivist who wants civilization to collapse, even if they are hung-up on the system.
There are many non-primitivists who predict collapse due to unsustainability. But what makes a person a primitivist is if they are looking forward to that collapse. It’s like the old “optimism-pessimism” debate often shown here. Jason believes that a quick collapse is optimistic while most people would call it pessimistic. This proves that those are terms that are useless in many ways–and are subjective to what you want. If you want civilization to go under, yes, anything showing it will go under faster is optimism. But if you don’t want to but can accept the facts (even though they are still hotly debated facts), then that will be pessimism. Optimism and pessimism I think are useless here on a factual basis; but they do prove people’s emotions on the topic.
However, what is so hard with accepting that some people might like being what you call a slave? What is so hard with acknowledging that? I accept that there are miserable people out there who are depressed. But I cannot accept that either EVERYONE is miserable or EVERYONE is happy, and primitivism seems to argue that EVERYONE must be miserable in civilization.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I do not feel dehumanized in civilization. Most people I know are happy and healthy. They are well-fed and do not want to give up civilization. I have a dream and a career plan that is only possible in civilization. I have lived my life in a community that can only exist in civilization that is important to me. I love my community and my life. With civilization’s collapse, I will be denied this experience, and billions will lose their lives. This might be inevitable due to unsustainability and overshoot, but I think that the population arguments debunk any arguments romanticizing the quality of life for foragers, even the arguments in thesis #25.
Consider this: if you are so adamant that people aware of tribal life have given up civilization, then why are you so adamant that 99% of the population will chose to die and remain civilized because they cannot consider another possibility? If people are aware, then how can you make the claim otherwise?
I think that the debate we just had about why most primitivists do not walk their talk should be a wake-up call; as miserable as it may be, it is still difficult to leave civilization, and that there is something here binding people.
I also think it works both ways. A primitivist cannot deny that civilization allows for higher complexity and more opportunities in careers and livelihoods as a result of civilized, urban life. Yet he gets carried away with what has been lost in civilization. It works both ways–the end of civilization may result in a lot of stuff we get, but we’ll lose a lot for it too. And the stuff I will lose is the stuff I know. And then there’s the question of whether or not a civilized person may want that stuff he might bain? To him, it’s a bad bargain–the comforts and benefits he gets from civilization is something he wants, while he is not missing what he might receive.
Primitivists argue the misery of agriculture based on the fact that foragers do not willingly adopt agriculture. But this is a narrow-minded approach–how many agricultural societies have willingly started to forage? There might be some, but just because a few have does not mean that there have been individuals who have refused adamantly to give up agriculture unless it was unsustainable.
Primitivists also argue that since there is evidence that civilized people run off to join the savages, that is evidence proving their point. But think about percentages here: that might be true, but there are also millions of civilized people who remained civilized until death–indeed, the vast majority. Why is that so hard for primitivists to accept?
Ben Franklin’s comment does not prove anything either. True, he might be right about some people who became savages, but I think that is false to use as an absolute to what all Europeans would think.
Think about it–did Ben Franklin ever go off to live with savages? If that was true, why did many Europeans on the frontier, like the Scots-Irish, not turn Indian? That’s a false absolute. And if that is true, why don’t anthropologists who go off and live with Stone Age tribes go native? Because they feel back at home in civilization. I feel at home the best in suburbia, because that is what I am familiar with.
As for security in a foraging society, quite frankly, I feel much more secure in my civilized society. I am well-fed and in a place I am familar with. I am not familar with foraging society. People who were born in a foraging society are familar with it–this might not be because it is about foraging, but because there is a human tendency to stick with what is familar! I think primitivists have forgotten this as well!
My mother and father believe primitivists to be nuts. They comment about how I spend time at the computer talking to crazy people. My father hates camping, and refuses to camp even I ask him to. He says he wants his creature comforts. These are people who would never return to a pre-civilized life. In fact, my involvement with these discussion have caused me to have a near mental breakdown. Surely the ideas of the increase in quality of life with foragers haven’t increased mine!
I also think that the “wild” versus “domesticated” dichotomy is quite oversimplified, since there are some “wild” aspects to civilized people that still exist in some “agrarian” societies, and there are borderline examples here. Are the forager chiefdoms “wild” or “domestication?” I think that being “wild” versus “domesticated” falls on a spectrum versus a strict line. It’s similar to your point about the flaws of purist primitivists who think that if people can’t just go cold turkey in the wild, then it’s not worth pursuing. I agree. Purism rarely is the way the world works–and I’m arguing the flaws of purism here.
However, as I said before, this is a different and separate argument from whether or not civilization is sustainable. Many people who believe our society will collapse are not primitivists–just ask William Catton and Richard Duncan. And ironically, very few people call them genocidal maniacs. They might call them crazy, but not genocidal.
But in the end, if primitivism speaks to human nature, then why are primitivists a fringe? Why do theorists about human nature believe them to be crazy?
Jhereg:
Well, you’re right it is mostly semantics. But let’s look at the part that isn’t semantics. Specifically, the implication that there is a larger rule (or rules) which the exceptions imply and/or prove. Do you have a larger rule in mind? Are Jason’s rules w/ exceptions truly devoid of the larger context? Which method provides a clearer view of what works and what doesn’t work in terms of both sustainability and human needs? Does an exception necessarily disprove a specific rule?
It depends on how you define rules. Jason seems to define a rule as something that applies in general cases, but can have exceptions.
I have a different definition for a rule: A rule is something that must be absolute. If there is an exception, it’s not a rule–it’s a tendency.
This is why I felt Jason contradicted himself with his absolute claim that humans “cannot be sedentary animals.” This confused me. If so, then what about the Kwakiutl, and the either Northwest Coast region, as well as the California coast? What about Sungir? Those societies were sustainable.
Sure, conditions might change which might make it difficult for them to adapt because of their sedentism, but that doesn’t mean they were unsustainable when the conditions allow for it. They settled in one place because it made sense at the time due to the conditions that made it possible!
So I argued that and he compared his point to African-Americans being poor with exceptions. I told him that I would argue the same–it’s not a rule, it’s a tendency.
So it is quite semantic based.
It’s also based on the fact that when I find data that could rebut what Jason has said, and Jason provided no rebuttal for that. If there is a rebuttal for this argument, I’d love to know.
Another example: Jason argues that the only sustainable level of technology is the stone age (see Thesis #28). But the term “stone age” is a vast oversimplification of the fact that there have been tribal, chiefdom, and civilized stone age societies.
John Michael Greer has also pointed out this fact as well in “Timeline of Collapse:”
I’d suggest that agriculture and metal technology are two basically unrelated issues. There have been many tribal societies, such as the Sami and many Siberian tribes, that use metal but don’t practice field agriculture, and there have also been agricultural, hierarchical, urban cultures such as the Aztecs that used stone tools.
So I tried to see if there were other websites supporting Greer’s claim that pre-agricultural tribes had metals, since I found no claims arguing this on this website, and no rebutalls arguing why this would not be sustainable. And I found these sources:
The Tribes of the Northwest Coast mined copper.
Lead and copper were mined by Pueblo Indians, even post-Anasazi.
The Sauk and Fox Indians mined lead.
Now, I’m not arguing that this was sustainable. But as Greer pointed out, there are examples of pre-agricultural societies mining metals, as well as the exceptional sedentary foragers.
Now, I’m not actually looking for answers to these, I’m just trying to help you become comfortable with the material on this site (even if you don’t agree with it!).
Neither am I. There are so many different opinions out there I just can’t determine who is right anymore.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:39 PM
Quite frankly, I do not see the freedom of primitivism as freedom. I see it as stifling. I have never been hungry, starving, or stripped of dignity, or had to do redundant tasks I know that there are people like that–but I cannot understand why, if someone most do that, they must inevitably feel miserable about it. I think that logically, some people will be miserable, but some people will not care and enjoy it. If that makes me a crazy person in the eyes of a primitivist, well then, I must be crazy.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:43 PM
Quite frankly, I do not see the freedom of primitivism as freedom. I see it as stifling. I have never been hungry, starving, or stripped of dignity, or had to do redundant tasks I know that there are people like that–but I cannot understand why, if someone most do that, they must inevitably feel miserable about it. I think that logically, some people will be miserable, but some people will not care and enjoy it. If that makes me a crazy person in the eyes of a primitivist, well then, I must be crazy.
You might call them dehumanizing experiences. I do not. I would not want civilization to collapse even if I did feel like that. And while I do know miserable people, they do not want collapse either.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:43 PM
neighbor:
Okay, I accept that some people are miserable. But I think that it is a flaw to argue this as an absolute. Civilzed people do not “always” go off to live with savages.
As for the denial of human nature, why is it that most civilized people then consider those societies that speak to human nature stifling and lonely? Visit a small town that speaks to community in human nature and everyone wants to move to the hierarchal, enslaving city!
The fact that primitivism is a fringe (and ironically, mostly male) means that there is a likely a part of human nature that primitivists do not address.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:49 PM
I just think you vastly overestimate the suffering that people are feeling in civ. How can I be “dying of our own misery” if I am not feeling that misery, and only started feeling it when I learned about primitivism.
In the words of Peter, Paul, and Mary: “You cannot share a dream that you do not believe in.”
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:50 PM
And that misery was just confusion about what I was supposed to feel, but not the fact that I did not feel that misery you were portraying.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:51 PM
If there’s any argument here as to why those pre-agricultural societies were unsustainable, I’d love to hear it.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 2:55 PM
Taylor, very quickly:
While you have never felt hunger, or other miseries, why don’t you ask the other 98% of the planet how civilization is going for them. I’m sure you do not consider yourself wealthy, but you are obviously a 1st-worlder, and probably in the very upper income range of the American population. You won’t easily admit this, since the news is full of billionaires and you feel nowhere close; but honestly the numbers will show you are far wealthier than almost anyone else on the planet.
You have never been hungry, do you know why? Because you are taking the food out of the mouths of future generations. It is as if you have not even read the most basic articles on this site. Do you not understand that this cannot continue? It is not that primitives _want_ collapse. I am sure most if not all of them would strongly prefer for the problems of diminishing returns on complexity, dwindling energy supplies, and pollution to magically go away. However, any cursory examination of the situation shows that the industrial lifestyle is simply impossible to carry on much longer. You may enjoy it just fine, but that is totally irrelevant to discussions of what is certain to happen if things continue unchecked. Your fear, anger, confusion, and so on are totally appropriate responses… so let it out. But you’re doing yourself a real disservice by thinking the rest of the world is as comfortable as you are.
Comment by Anonymous — 19 September 2006 @ 2:56 PM
Taylor: imagine this scenario. You and a group of friends are in your stateroom on board a slowly sinking Titanic. You are sipping cognac, perhaps enjoying some music. 99% of the ship’s population is dying in the icy water outside. You look around at your roomful of friends and declare “everything is great, why would anyone abandon this?”.
The primitivists are not out there sinking ships and trying to ruin your day. They are saying “um, I think maybe we should look for some life rafts!”
Comment by Anonymous — 19 September 2006 @ 3:03 PM
Anonymous:
Okay, I admit. I have felt hunger, but not forced hunger. I went through a period of severe stomach illness where I was unable to eat, and nearly starved to death.
You are right–I am wealthier than most people on the planet. But I think that the overshoot argument rebut any argument of primitivism having merit due to the misery of civilization. If the planet is in overshoot and billions will die, how do you think the 98% will fell in having to starve to death? They might feel hardship, but they are still alive–and without civilization, they would die.
This is another ethical problem I have with primitivism. Yes, I am well-fed because I am taking the food out of the mouths future generations. But if the planet is in overshoot, aren’t you, and everyone alive today? If we are in overshoot and billions must die, then in order to live we must inevitably take food out of the mouths of future generations and other people. With that argument, we should all put bullets to our heads.
Of course, things cannot continue unchecked. Of course the industrial lifestyle cannot be carried on much longer But it is a different discussion that arguing people’s misery. Of course it cannot go on unchecked, but the line between sustainable and unsustainable is hotly debated–agrarians see agrarian civilizations as sustainable, after all.
But you are right…it is irrelevant. And I don’t agree with the absolute negative emotions of other people.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 3:08 PM
And regardless of what Jason says, I do think that since billions must die, we need people who will choose to die versus thinking they must survive to keep the species going. I just think it is selfish to accept the deaths of others without admitting to the possiblity of your own death, or not taking a bullet to my head. Of course, I’m not taking a bullet to my head, so in my own definition, I’m just as selfish.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 3:10 PM
But you’re doing yourself a real disservice by thinking the rest of the world is as comfortable as you are.
You are right. But I think that primitivists do a disservice by thinking the rest of the world is as miserable as they are, as well. Both ideas are blinders.
Taylor: imagine this scenario. You and a group of friends are in your stateroom on board a slowly sinking Titanic. You are sipping cognac, perhaps enjoying some music. 99% of the ship’s population is dying in the icy water outside. You look around at your roomful of friends and declare “everything is great, why would anyone abandon this?”.
The primitivists are not out there sinking ships and trying to ruin your day. They are saying “um, I think maybe we should look for some life rafts!”
Yes, but to continue that scenario, not everyone is able to get into those life rafts. But the point still remains–we don’t have to argue that their quality of life is increased because the ship is sinking.
I don’t think that most people would choose death over their miserable, uncomfortable existence. Those 98% people of the people you see are going to be screwed when civilization collapses. Collapse may increase the quality of life to primitivists and other people, but to argue that it will absolutely increase the quality of life of everyone is quite absurd.
But again, I do not know who to agree with. Even though Jason is certain about many things: civilization MUST always grow, horticulture and permaculture can ONLY sustain villages of 300 people, agriculture is inherently unsustainable and so is civilization, the only sustainable level of technology is the stone age, I’ve seen others argue otherwise. I just don’t know who to agree with anymore. Other people think they are just as right about their beliefs as Jason is, naturally.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 4:41 PM
And regardless of what Jason says, I do think that since billions must die, we need people who will choose to die versus thinking they must survive to keep the species going.
I’ll change “since” to “if,” since I am making a logical statement. My own typo.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 4:43 PM
Heck, I wanted to go to college and get a job after my graduation. Now I can’t do that because of collapse. But then, I must be selfish, of course, because of all the poor people out there that can’t do that as well. But then, look at what happened during Katrina–who was hurt most by a preview of collapse? The poor and suffering wage slaves.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 5:16 PM
Ah you are still in high school and living with parents. Now your comments make a lot more sense. You sound like a smart kid, keep it up.
Comment by Anonymous — 19 September 2006 @ 5:43 PM
Taylor, there is no easy way to say this. You have to stop. Seriously. When you were known as “aksum,” you didn’t post 14 comments in a row like this. You are absolutely capable of not flooding this blog with question after question after question. You only have to control the urge.
Please stop asking Jason every single question that pops into your head and instead try going to a search engine and typing in “anthropik on …” Or going to the library and checking out some books on anthropology and/or ecology. Personally, I strongly recommend anything by Marvin Harris. He was the father of cultural materialism (which is the school of thought Anthropik belongs to), a highly respected anthropologist, and an excellent writer who could translate the findings of anthropology and archeology into words that a layman could understand and enjoy. He was my first stop after finishing Quinn’s work, and he answered a heck of a lot of questions for me.
To put it simply, we can’t handle this barrage of comments. You are not only loading Jason down with the burden of answering questions he already answered in detail hundreds of times before, but you’re taking over the entire website. When people see that a post has already been commented on, they usually decide not to comment themselves. And you comment on everything to quickly and so often that all the dialog on this site ends up being about you.
But the main problem isn’t so much that you post so often - it’s that you demand a degree of literality that is infuriating to deal with. Everything has to be explained in your exact words, on your exact terms, or you won’t accept it. We have other people we want to talk to who are less demanding. We have other issues we want to talk about. We cannot hold your hand through every step of this. Jason is not your personal tutor. It is not his job to assuage your every last fear regarding primitivism.
I understand that your autism makes communicating difficult for you, and I understand what that means. But that’s something you’re going to have to deal with on your own. It is not our responsibility to cater to your problems, especially when that means not answering others’ questions in favor of answering yours again and again and again.
You mentioned graduating high school. I sincerely hope you consider majoring in - or taking a few classes in - cultural anthropology. I think you’ll find that what you learn in those classes will back up much of what we’re saying. And, unlike us, your professors really will be responsible for answering all the questions you may have.
If you can’t do any of that, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be the first person Anthropik has ever banned. This is not something we like to do - as evidenced by the fact that it’s not something we’ve ever done. But you’re consuming the site, and it needs to end.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 5:52 PM
Giuli - as a first step, could you just consider asking Taylor to move it to the forums? (if this has already been done, forgive me, I’m not following the whole drama)
I find Taylor’s questioning and corresponding consternation over the personal implications of collapse to be important though definitely overwhelming. Taylor is obviously a person of deep feeling and though the emphasis here is often on the rational end of the spectrum, perhaps it would be considerate to first allow for an alternative.
Your advice should be followed to “avoid the urge” to flood the blog, ultimately, though.
Comment by neighbor — 19 September 2006 @ 6:11 PM
Taylor, if you would move your questions to the forums and direct your questions to primitivists in general, as opposed to Jason specifically, I wouldn’t be opposed to that. One of the big problems with the current situation is that… well, basically that the current situation is driving Jason bonkers.
Moving your queries to the forums might also have the added bonus of increasing traffic to the forums. So - excellent suggestion, neighbor.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 6:18 PM
Giuli, I believe the only way this can end is if I am banned from Anthropik. Ban me and your problems will be over.
No, I did not expect Jason to respond to all of my questions. Yes, I am literal–that’s a part of my autism. And I’ve read interviews of Marvin Harris, and Jared Diamond, and other anthropology. I just have yet to find, however, arguments that civilization is inherently unsustainable, must always grow, etc., even with their writings.
To put it simply, we can’t handle this barrage of comments. You are not only loading Jason down with the burden of answering questions he already answered in detail hundreds of times before, but you’re taking over the entire website. When people see that a post has already been commented on, they usually decide not to comment themselves. And you comment on everything to quickly and so often that all the dialog on this site ends up being about you.
But the main problem isn’t so much that you post so often - it’s that you demand a degree of literality that is infuriating to deal with. Everything has to be explained in your exact words, on your exact terms, or you won’t accept it. We have other people we want to talk to who are less demanding. We have other issues we want to talk about. We cannot hold your hand through every step of this. Jason is not your personal tutor. It is not his job to assuage your every last fear regarding primitivism.
Fine. I’ll just wallow in my confusion. When someone argues something that meshes with Jason’s literal argument, I won’t ask–I’ll just sit in my stupor. I am still very curious, however, as to why Jason stands out from so many other people, and makes claims that no one else has made. Of course, I might not have found others.
You should ban me from Anthropik. Do it because I cannot control myself.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 6:32 PM
That is, while I have been able to find backing for Jason’s arguments in certain specific situations, I’ve yet to find other people claim them as absolutes, like Jason. It’s not just that some civilizations must grow–it’s that ALL civilizations must grow, and other examples abound (limitations of horticulture, etc.) I’ll shut up since I don’t get it, and I just won’t be able to. But the only way I can shut up is if you ban me from Anthropik.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 6:33 PM
And my uncontrollable urge, bewilderment, and deep depression.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 6:34 PM
I’ll give a hearty “Amen!” to that suggestion!
Comment by jhereg — 19 September 2006 @ 6:36 PM
Yep. I’ll just sit and stew in my home in the Chicago suburbs, as I wait for Chicago to collapse as well as the suburbs around it. It’s going to collapse, after all, even in Peak Oil scenarios. There’s obviously no hope for that beautiful city on Lake Michigan.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 6:38 PM
Look, you want to understand?
Then listen.
Okay. You aren’t going to get any more of an answer than you already have. Ultimately, there is no complete answer to [b]anything[/b] in this world….
And, I realize you’re still in high school, and I remember when I was struggling with a lot of these issues in high school, I spent a lot of nights lying awake trying to figure a lot of this shit out, so I do have an idea of where you’re coming from, BUT you are [b]ultimately[/b] responsible for [b]your[/b] opinions. [b]You[/b] decide what you believe. [b]Don’t[/b] try and lay that at the feet of others! That’s [b]seriously[/b] uncool!
Comment by jhereg — 19 September 2006 @ 6:58 PM
You’re right, Jhereg. Giuli, ban me from this site–that’s the only way I’ll deal with this shit!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:33 PM
And I’ll sit back and ponder about how the shit will hit the fan in Europe, since there is little wilderness there as well to supplement horticulture or forage, and what the likely outcome is going to be there, since even though I’m an American, I’ll still debate about what the outcome is in the rest of the world.
I’ll wait for the ban–and then I can shut up and be silent forever!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:36 PM
For I disagree when you say there is no baby, metaphorically. I see the baby, but I’m not going to get anywhere arguing that. Stop me, Anthropik! I need you to silence me!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:37 PM
But in the end, I guess my mind cannot take these primitivist concepts, and this hashing of comments and irrationality is due to the fact that I’m led to a mental breakdown because I just can’t handle what Jason argues is the truth. That’s why I’m disturbed when you write that these things will increase quality of life for everyone–since it hasn’t for me, and just led me to a breakdown.
I’ll break down then, but I don’t think I can control myself and stop writing here until I am banned.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:40 PM
Because while I do go on search engines and research other places, I just don’t know who to trust, and wonder what you have to say about it. But I figured I was bothering you, and I just am unable to stop. I’m disabled–I have to admit it.
May you do well, Anthropik. I hope you had a nice Mountain Festival, and I wish you good luck. Now I’ll go off and deal with my mental agony. I just don’t feel like I can think straight about any of this, and you were right–I was expecting you to hold my hand, since I thought the only person I could believe in was what Jason said. I demanded literal truth in my exact words because I felt that was the only way I could accept and understand things.
But since I just cannot get it, not even that will help. I’ll try my best to leave, but I do need to be banned. I’m sorry for saying that so much!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:45 PM
And I hope that I have time before collapse falls so I can take those high school and college classes so I can talk to my professors. I won’t be able to high school or university if collapse comes, after all.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:46 PM
And I hope I can find my answers with those professors. Okay, I can’t control myself! I am so crazy!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:47 PM
Looks like I need to take Taylor to the woodshed! Not that we really have one of those in suburbia…
His mom and I have developed various strategies for dealing with his perseveration (the technical term for what he’s been doing on your blog) over the yrs; the best we’ve found is “my ears need a rest,” which translated into blogspeak would be “our eyes need a rest.”
Thanks for being polite about this; I don’t think Taylor really wants to be banned–that is his typical extreme reaction to requests for minor behaviorial modifications. I do think he can learn to moderate the urge, and that will be so much better, hopefully, for all concerned.
BTW, I thought the “stewing in the Chicago suburbs waiting for collapse” remark was hilarious!
Comment by Taylor's Dad — 19 September 2006 @ 7:48 PM
Taylor Wrote:
Fine. I’ll just wallow in my confusion. When someone argues something that meshes with Jason’s literal argument, I won’t ask–I’ll just sit in my stupor.
Lol, yet another whiny, coddled child who refuses to think for themselves, or at all, just like most of the rest of the children in today’s USA.
Guili wrote:
your autism makes communicating difficult for you,
so difficult that he can write 20 pages overless than 2 days? please.
Comment by some random dude — 19 September 2006 @ 7:48 PM
Taylor, you’ve controlled yourself before. When you posted here under the name “aksum,” you never did this. Either you don’t want to try to control yourself, or you’re being intentionally problematic because you want people to hate or pity you, or perhaps you’re just trolling out of genuine maliciousness. (I prefer to believe the former.)
Skimming through Quinn’s books last night, I found multiple passages in Ishmael and The Story of B where he said outright that totalitarian agriculture is inherently unsustainable. Many times, he literally used the word “unsustainable.” But no one has the exact same opinions Jason has because Jason’s moved beyond simply mimicking other thinkers. He’s done his own research and come to his own independent conclusions. That’s what you’re expected to do - that’s what we’re all expected to do.
Calm down, get away from the site for a day or two, and think about how you want to approach your philosophical journey (and it is yours - not Jason’s or anyone else’s) from here on out, on the internet and in real life. You seem suspiciously excited at the possibility of being banned, which only supports the troll theory. But I’m willing to act on the assumption that you mean well, that you’re only being melodramatic right now, and that you’ll soon calm down and be able to approach this reasonably.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 7:48 PM
Since I find this one of the finer posts on this site, how about archiving all current comments with a link to them, and starting the discussion afresh?
I can’t believe I am suggesting that, but this really is going to get in the way of reasonable people reading and wanting to discuss this truly excellent post.
Comment by mantid — 19 September 2006 @ 7:50 PM
Giuli, that is because I was a different person back then. I was willing to argue because again, I disagreed and still did even after debating with you. I didn’t spend much time considering deeper possibilities, and now that I have, I’ve become a melodramatic wreck.
I just don’t know who to agree with, and obviously, as you point out, you don’t have all the answers, especially literal answers. However, just spending time thinking about them has caused me to fall apart.
I do mean well, but part of having autism means that it can seem that I am not trying when I am. If I wasn’t trying, I might have posted 28 comments in a row. I’m amazed that I even got to 14, but it does add up.
I do need to go on my philosophical journey by myself. But this is a matter of life and death, as others have pointed out–what I believe may not be actually true, but people believe different things. To Jason, “x” people will die while others will live. But others do things differently.
I have read Quinn. I can’t say I disagree with him about his attitude that totalitarian agriculture is inherently unsustainable, because I don’t know what to agree with. I’m just helpless, confused, and forced to troll because I cannot fully understand these points and claims.
Banning me, it seems, is the only way I can back off. That’s how autism works sometimes. I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if you don’t.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 7:58 PM
To be fair, he shows many of the signs of having a problem with the ventromedial prefrontal cortex, and that’s widely theorized to have a connection to autism. Malcolm Gladwell, in his excellent new book Blink, describes the problem as follows:
—
Damasio studied patients with damage to a small but critical part of the brain called the ventromedial prefrontal cortex, which lies behind the nose. The ventromedial area plays a critical role in decision making. It works out the contingencies and relationships and sorts through the mountain of information we get from the outside world, prioritizing it and putting flags on things that demand our immediate attention. People with damage to their ventromedial area are perfectly rational. They can be highly intelligent and functional, but they lack judgment. More precisely, they don’t have that mental valet in their unconscious that frees them up to concentrate on what really matters. In his book, Descartes’ Error, Damasio describes trying to set up an appointment with a patient with this kind of brain damage:
—
Before I remembered and re-read that passage, Jason and I thought Taylor was lying too. But his behavior seems consistent with the behavior described above.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 7:59 PM
I’m not a malicious troll–I’m a crazy troll who just doesn’t get it, and needs to be kicked off.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:02 PM
You don’t have to agree with anyone. And you certainly don’t have to make up your mind right now. You’re still young, you’re about to go to college, where you’ll be introduced to about a bazillion and one different ideas, and no one is demanding that you make up your mind about any of them right now.
If you’re primarily scared because you think you won’t survive the collapse of civilization (whether or not it is happening), it might do you well to enroll in some primitive skills courses. Whether or not they’re a good investment in your future, they’re loads of fun. Being in nature is also very relaxing and helps you slip into a more laid-back, open mindset. If you do that, you can rest assured that, if civilization does collapse, you’ll be covered, and you won’t necessarily have to make a decision right at that moment. After all, many people learn primitive skills simply as a hobby.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 8:04 PM
I’ll just wait to be banned. I really do need it. But of course, it is true that without civilization, books like Malcolm Gladwell’s, as well as Marvin Harris’ would not have been published, and we would not have had this discussion. We won’t be able to talk about this after collapse, after all.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:08 PM
But I won’t be able to go to college during a collapse!
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:09 PM
And I’m not scared about not surviving collapse. I’m just scared about the concept that civilization is inherently unsustainable, and must inevitably collapse, and I don’t know who to trust–you, Quinn, or anyone. I am still young, but according to Jason, my life will soon be over if I can’t live outside of civilization.
As for high school and college…yes, that has been a big problem in my life. I have read Quinn and Diamond, and I do try to find time to read more. It’s just that the more I read, the more I learn, the more confused I get. I’m in high school for child development classes and others, and I am homeschooled for the rest…and I’m currently set to go to a community college in the fall. But I do have this mental problem that if I don’t do certain things, it burns a hole in my head and paralyzes me. In order to help me, I need to be banned.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:14 PM
First of all, collapse is a gradual thing. It’ll be 20, 30, maybe even 100 years before every last vestige of civilization is gone. You have plenty of time to go to college.
Second of all… okay, you insisted. We’re banning you now. But if, at some point in the future, you find that you’re able to control yourself and debate in a normal manner, you can feel free to e-mail either myself or Jason and ask to be un-banned. (That is, if you first convince us that your behavior actually will improve.)
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 8:15 PM
Okay, so I’ll do a test page. If I see this gone, I’ll know I am banned.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:17 PM
Yet I thought collapse was not gradual–it always happened suddenly, over a period of a decade! Didn’t Jason say that?
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:18 PM
Actually, no. All your words will still be here - you just won’t be able to post anything new.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 8:19 PM
What does that mean?
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:21 PM
But then, that’s what I meant by a test page. I was posting a test post, expecting it to be gone. If I see this post gone, I’ll know I am banned. Unless you meant something else. I know all of my previous words will still be here–I was expecting new posts like these to be gone.
Comment by Taylor — 19 September 2006 @ 8:23 PM
I’m going to save you the trouble of trying to post again and again and just tell you right now that you’re banned.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 8:25 PM
Taylor, you should start your own blog if you don’t already have one! I would love to read it, as I find your line of questioning very thoughtful and worthwhile, even though I don’t have the time to read all of it either.
I also think your behavior poses an interesting dilemma for a site such as this, devoted to developing community-oriented thinking. How do we deal with the fact that some of the people in the community do more of the thinking and/or that some are so much more vocal?
In my experience, those people tend to go off and start their own communities, which is very much what I am guessing Jason did in the first place. His responses have been voluminous on my site (as well as very welcome) as well.
But it looks like Taylor, based on Giuli’s comments, have forced Anthropik into a weird position (which Taylor seems to recognize) wherein does a community founded upon the questioning spirit at some point have to shut down that same questioning spirit in order to maintain any semblance of identity?
It’s a question I like very much
Comment by pop occulture — 19 September 2006 @ 9:01 PM
I’d like to stress that the dilemna with Taylor has less to do with the questions he’s raising—which I hope to have an opportunity to come back to and answer later—than the sheer voluminous nature of it, which has had the effect of stifling all other discussion on the site. I bear Taylor no ill will, and hope he gets some help with his problems. I have no problem whatsoever with the questions Taylor’s raised (except, perhaps, that we’ve discussed them so many times already), but for the good of maintaining the community, I’m afraid we’ve had to take fairly drastic measures. I can’t say I’m very comfortable with it, but the alternative is to smother all other discussion.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 19 September 2006 @ 9:29 PM
I don’t see how this entails “shutting down” our “questioning spirit.” The primary problem was that no one was questioning but Taylor; nobody could get a word in edgewise. The whole site ended up being about his questions and no one else’s. Hopefully now, conversation will return to normal and we’ll have a greater diversity of thought and opinion.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 9:52 PM
Perseveration is the most accurate term to describe Taylor’s behavior on this blog; for more info see the DSM entries for autism and Aspergers. The Gladwell reference is interesting, but the behavior described is a better fit to OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder).
One more thing–shame on you guys for fear-mongering among impressionable youth. There’s already enough fear going around used to justify obnoxious actions. Now that’s something to think & write about!
And I really am Taylor’s dad…
Comment by Taylor's Dad — 19 September 2006 @ 9:58 PM
With all due respect, fear-mongering is instilling fear where it is not warranted. This site isn’t about fear-mongering at all; it’s about coming to terms with the ramifications of the way we live. I’m sorry that this has taken a toll on your son, but you’ve heard the addage “don’t shoot the messenger”? If your son is having a difficult time with the ramifications of our way of life, I think the shame lies less with us for pointing it out, than the system that created these problems to begin with.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 19 September 2006 @ 10:03 PM
but for the good of maintaining the community, I’m afraid we’ve had to take fairly drastic measures.
That really is an interesting issue to me. When does the “good of the community” outweigh one person’s something or other? I wasn’t trying to be snarky!!
I don’t see how this entails “shutting down” our “questioning spirit.” The primary problem was that no one was questioning but Taylor; nobody could get a word in edgewise.
Again, I know, but the end result is still suppression of one person’s voice, one contributing member of the community - is it not? How is Taylor or anybody else to be able to discern such a difference?
Comment by pop occulture — 19 September 2006 @ 10:24 PM
First, we asked him to gather all his thoughts into one comment at a time. He didn’t do that.
Then, we told him we were considering banning him if he didn’t manage his thoughts better or move it all onto the forums.
That’s when he started literally begging us to ban him.
Given the fact that we gave him multiple chances and in the end, he seemed to actually desire the banning, I’m not sure you could call it “suppressing” his voice. If banning him from one website (he can easily start his own) on his own request counts as suppression, then I can’t imagine that his takeover of the comments, constantly steering the conversation away from topics others started towards his own topics and then burying said other conversations in a flurry of his own thoughts, doesn’t count as the same.
Comment by Giulianna Lamanna — 19 September 2006 @ 10:37 PM
Jason, my fear-mongering comment was a jibe, only used as bait for a possible humorous rejoinder. In my own childhood we routinely hid under our school desks in fear of nuclear attack, fear that was real and palpable, spread by the government for propaganda purposes. Similar to the spread today of the fear of terrorism…
As a parent, my concern is that Taylor has gone beyond the boundaries of allowable community behavior, a concern that seems to be shared among this group. I suggested to Taylor that if this were a discussion around the dinner table, for example, that his monopolization would not be tolerated.
Giuli, may I suggest that Taylor’s request to be banned is an indication of his social disorder, not something he chooses freely? No apology is necessary for banning him, for the purpose of maintaining order. And to all, thanks for your patience and encouragement; as pop occulture suggests, maybe there’s the seed of a new thread here about community boundaries, maintaining order, etc. Sorry the orig thread was diverted…
BTW, Taylor is a really good kid and great companion in person; and I’m trying to encourage him to spend more time “in the library” before going to the keyboard!
Comment by Taylor's Dad — 20 September 2006 @ 2:42 AM
First of all, it’s all about COMFORT. That is what drives civilization. New theory alert. Of course, for the alpha males and females, power is also primary. But power is comfort of another kind. Psychological and physical comfort my friends, is why we all have laptops, a fridge full of food and Google. Comfort as I lie on my back enjoying this discussion. Comfort drove the Seneca to hunt the beaver to near extinction for iron pots and blades. Inequality, hierarchy, environmental decay… they are distant, intractable as I type… who really cares or does anything, really? One or two or three? Stalin, Mao, Hitler or Truman? Simone Weil? St. Francis? Fidel Castro? Of course you ban Taylor, he’s not comfortable, only his father can deal with him, as it should be.
The problem here is that Jason “reads the chart off the page”. Dig it: NO ONE CAN PREDICT THE FUTURE with accuracy, all of the time. Jason’s position is emotional, despite his academic, tone. Civilization may survive. That is obvious. It’s also obvious we are in big trouble. But to speak with absolute certainty about the future is insane. Insane as the passover myth, insane as using peace and democracy as a weapon. Insane as requiring women to wear burkas or whole classes of people to be untouchable. Insane as desiring to end desire. Insane as life itself. We know nothing about what life really is, or how we got here. But I like a hot bath and a hot meal and a good conversation and playing with my kids. Magic is still everywhere, even in civ.
Civilization is fucked up, but no more than the Iroquios, or the Zulu’s or the Aztecs, or the Han. I think freedom is maximized at the tribal level, as long as you follow the rules. Maybe a tribe needs fewer rules, that’s all. Empire is inevitable because the mafia are everywhere, and the bushmen are even now being chased out of the Kalahari.
“Just remember, death is not the end”
Good luck trying to start a new tribe from scratch. Who da boss? Democracy? Rhetoric? Myth?
What is the myth of a new tribe?
Comment by pygmy — 20 September 2006 @ 3:28 AM
Civilization gave us new dreams.
The dream of immortality.
The dream of going to the stars.
The dream of discovering how our minds work and building better minds.
The dream of discovering what it takes to make a new planet, a new ecology, a new star or a new Universe.
Until civilization utterly collapses, these dreams will be alive.
But primitivists have no use for them.
It is scary to lose one’s dreams.
Comment by _Gi — 20 September 2006 @ 2:08 PM
Scary and sad. And, of course, very, very difficult.
But then, there are other dreams….
The dream of knowing that you have the support and guidance of a tribe that cares about your well-being?
The dream of being part of nature.
The dream of freedom.
The dream of being fully alive and aware and connected to the world around you.
Comment by jhereg — 20 September 2006 @ 2:37 PM
Response in short to Anthropocentric-Animism
A charismatic thesis that’s implied premise betrays a simple metaphysic, insufficient to support the idea that the essence of existence is itself meaningful. The individual’s recognition of “I am� naturally leads to ‘You are…�, “All is…�, and so on, and that everything is somehow mysteriously, spiritualisticly interwoven. To simply label anything unexplainable as “Spiritual� is severely lacking as a credible, comprehensive, philosophic world view.
Based solely on the world view that what is is without cause, one could reasonably conclude that ‘civilization’ is the byproduct as one species colonizes and re-colonizes throughout its course of evolution. Therefore; whatever the result, it is always mere cause and effect. The outcome will always be inexorable and unalterable. Evolution cannot be abated. Why bother…?
Is life’s meaning the subjective interpretation of randomly occurring, incoherent personally significant moments?
If there is such a thing as deception, then we all are mostly deceived throughout our entire lives. We deceive ourselves, because we choose to do so… When wrestling with the dichotomy of reality, to trust observation and subsequent interpretation is inherently faulty because ones observations at best are incomplete and inaccurate.
An argument from silence indicting conventional Christianity, and finding it wanting could be considered legitimate because the form of religion practiced in 20th century conventional contemporary Christian-American churches is not consistent with that which is found in scripture.
I submit that intellectual ability - to form and transform thought into a coherent comprehendible stream is specifically a communicable attribute which emanates from a world view that existence has “Specific Origin�. Axiomatically - If a thing is true it is without saying – If a thing is false it will come to no consequence (objective propositional truth).
We all answer the same question every morning… do we not?
Who will I serve?
Comment by critical — 24 September 2006 @ 1:30 AM
You should take a look at Abram’s Spell of the Sensuous, which we recently have talked a lot about. It echoes some of these same ideas.
If I understand you correctly, you seem to be arguing that civilization is justified because it is the end product of evolution. But if I may, evolution has no specific end. It is change, not “progress” towards some arbitrary notion of “perfection.” Value judgments are always made from the human perspective, and from the human perspective we can see how civilization has harmed us, but if we wish to back away from ourselves and see the course of our history through some kind of aloof, cosmic lens, then might I offer this: that civilization may well have been inevitable, but it is by no means the end point of evolution. In fact, in strictly evolutionary terms, it is self-defeating. So, even from that perspective, the next step is not to cling to our failed civilization, but to move beyond civilization.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 24 September 2006 @ 5:24 PM
From strictly the evolutionary perspective, a species does what a species will do… Colonizing is one of the things that a species will do - civilization is what we call it relating to the human species. As such, the evolved humans do grossly err regarding the volitional impact they exert over the larger forces of evolution. If everything randomly evolved from nothing, that force is far more than we could possibly imagine it to be - we deceive to believe otherwise.
There is no justification for civilization, none is required… it is merely the definition.
Personally, I abhor the ridiculous rituals we mindlessly endure as a result of participating in it… (i.e…, waiting at an intersection, just sitting there in my car… waiting… waiting for my turn!)
Since recorded history there have been 21 great civilizations, only two currently exist today in any recognizable form. The others, you’ll have go the museum, or watch The History Channel… Individually, our greatest problem is not the crash of civilization - that has happened many times before, and will happen again, and again, and again. Evolutionally and historically humans do not fit the model of intricate balance found in the natural world.
I do not speak in defense of evolution. Rather, I find it an insufficient metaphysical foundation to provide an adequate explanation for: imagination, intellect, and the desire to know about the origin of existence…
However, after considering the question… I intend to uncover the truth.
Comment by critical — 26 September 2006 @ 6:30 AM
This is patently untrue. Otherwise, why don’t we see civilization emerging among all animals? Why is it such an aberration in our own history? Evolution does push towards growth, but t also punishes those who are too successful as harshly as those who aren’t successful enough: with extinction.
History is no sine wave–it’s an interrupted escalation. We’ve seen this escalation run its full course on more local levels, as with the Anasazi. It’s a typical overshoot pattern. We’re now nearing another crash, and this one has one unique aspect: it doesn’t leave any resources to build a successor out of. Geological time will pass before those materials become available again.
That’s what our culture’s mythology tries to teach us, but that is the basic, fundamental lie that lays the foundation of our entire civilization. And it is very much a lie. For 99% of our species’ history, this was not true of any of us. In the past 1%, it’s been true of a minority of us. Only in the past two centuries has civilization even become the dominant social system for our species–and yet, even today, there are may cultures that remain that very much do “fit the model of intricate balance found in the natural world.”
Humans are part of the natural world–always have been, always will be. The only question is whether we acknowledge that and operate inside it as part of it, or deny it and grow without limit, like a cancer.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 26 September 2006 @ 9:09 AM
“…Humans are part of the natural world–always have been, always will be. The only question…”
Every species other than human within the vast closed bio-system called earth functions instinctively, never once pausing to ponder its role in existence. The human is either a genetic mutation that does not belong or an extra biological anomaly with a higher purpose and function in a far more complicated structure than merely the Natural.
Anthropocentric Primitivism does not adequately provide a coherent answer to the real question… How/ Why is it possible that the human is self-aware, and cognizant of its transitioning through/ and place in time. Its implied premise, (harmony with the natural world) is faulty and insufficient to support the idea that the essence of existence (Spirituality) is itself meaningful.
Comment by critical — 27 September 2006 @ 10:14 PM
That’s unprovable, but what little we have that might indicate whether or not that’s true says otherwise. The animal kingdom is positively exploding with signs of intelligence: from crows to dolphins to primates. So, it would seem that at least quite a few species might pause to ponder their existence.
I’m afraid I find your premise weak, primarily for its anthropocentric bias. Why is it necessary that human intelligence is so unique, when there is so much evidence for similar intelligence throughout the animal kingdom? We can easily see such intelligence as an extension of the animal’s evolutionary need to participate in a living world, an ecology. In fact, as we’ve explored in depth recently with our discussions of animism, spirituality is only meaningful in terms of the ecological relationships we’re part of.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 27 September 2006 @ 10:24 PM
Reasoning by means of one of the attributes that separates us from all other creatures (intellect) to argue that we are nothing more - is not reasoning, reveals a personal prejudice, and a lack of understanding of the subject.
To state a position such that humans would be ‘better off� and the whole of the bio-system would be spared if we reverted to a lifestyle from times past, and that there is significant spiritual reward to be gained in doing so is Amish in its simplisticness.
Comment by critical — 29 September 2006 @ 11:16 PM
I’m not quite sure how to parse your first paragraph, critical, but you seem to be rejecting out of hand any suggestion that human intellect might not be terribly unique. Assuming I’m parsing that correctly, isn’t that more reflectively of a severe lack of curiosity, if we’re simply accepting as a given that no other animals possess any intelligence, and we refuse to accept any other possibility? As David Abram points out so brilliantly in Spell of the Sensuous, the notion that consciousness is a solely human trait is the product of a closed, isolated, and purely human dialogue, wherein we systematically shut out all non-human voices and refuse to listen to anything other than ourselves. We’re essentially left in the middle of a cocktail party plugging our ears, squeezing our eyes shut, and talking to ourselves to congratulate ourselves on being the only people in the room. In fact, as Abram further illustrates, our direct experience is a living world that’s bursting with intelligence and consciousness.
As far as your contention that I’m espousing a “simplistic” notion of “going back,” I’m afraid you have me all wrong. This isn’t a question of “going back,” but of what “going forward” means. Most people think “going forward” should mean more of the same—more of all the same things we’ve been doing all along, the things that push us further away from the goals we want to get closer to. I’m not talking about “going back,” I’m suggesting that the way forward means abandoning all these things that haven’t been working. I’m suggesting sankofa: that we can’t go forward until we’ve retrieved the things we’ve forgotten. I’m suggesting that we need to move beyond civilization, because civilization has failed. It’s not about going back; there is no back. It’s about noticing that we’re running our heads into a wall, and that it might be a good idea to do something different, because what we’re doing now isn’t working.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 30 September 2006 @ 12:44 PM
Astronomer Carl Sagan has maintained that even a single message from space would establish the existence of extraterrestrial intelligences. He wrote:
“There are others who believe that our problems are soluble, that humanity is still in its childhood, that one day soon we will grow up. The receipt of a single message from space would show that it is possible to live through such technological adolescence: the transmitting civilization, after all, has survived.”
http://www.leaderu.com/offices/thaxton/docs/inpursuit.html
The human genome is comprised of about three billion building-blocks or residues. This is a lot of information. If each residue was the equivalent of one byte of computer memory, the sequence of the genome from just one person would fill a respectably large hard disk.
http://www.abc.net.au/science/slab/genome/story.htm
Every living thing contains volumes upon volumes of information – messages from an intelligent life form.
I submit that Intelligence preceded life, and that there is little virtue in citing it as the fortification of any defense by mere observation, regardless its animated form.
Comment by critical — 1 October 2006 @ 12:03 AM
Critical, you do realize that speaking of DNA encoding “information” is a metaphor, and that it’s not actually information encoding, right?
Comment by Jason Godesky — 4 October 2006 @ 9:43 AM
Hey Jason –
Technically it is literally information.
But there is a big difference between ‘information’ and ‘a message’
Janene
Comment by janene — 4 October 2006 @ 10:54 AM
3 GBits of memory of which 98% is junk is not a whole lot of information.
Comment by _Gi — 4 October 2006 @ 11:45 AM
While 3G might have filled a respectable hard drive 10 years ago, it barely hits 5% now.
Janene,
I tend to want to lean toward Jasons view and say that calling it information seems to be anthropomorphization of cellular processes. I also recall a book on data v. information that I read long ago that made the distinction that data is what you collect and that information is what you learn from data.
Random thoughts on a Random Day
JimFive
Comment by JimFive — 4 October 2006 @ 11:47 AM
Good point about the difference between “information” and “message,” but I don’t think it’sreally encoding information, either. It’s a way that atoms have of relating to one another. And then they unzip, and other atoms line up along it that we call proteins, and if the pattern happens to create a cell, that molecule has a greater chance of reproducing itself than otherwise, so it will. Is that “encoding information”? If it is, then surely there’s information encoded in the dustbunnies on my desk, or any random assemblage of … well … anything.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 4 October 2006 @ 12:55 PM
Where is the backing for your assertion that civilization must either grow or not grow? That seems extremely absolutist to me.
[Editor’s note: This message is from Taylor, but I published it because I was afraid someone might say something like this. My reply is below. - JG]
Comment by perma_student — 6 October 2006 @ 8:10 AM
It doesn’t need evidence: it’s basic logic. For any logical statement P, everything must belong to P or not P. “X is growing,” is a logical statement, referring to all the things that are growing. Anything that is not in the set X is not growing, and thus belongs to the set of Y in “Y is not growing.” This isn’t absolutism, this is logic.
Consider a different descriptor, like “round.” Everything is either round, or not, right? Things that aren’t round are not round; they belong to the set of not P, or in this case, not round.
So the same applies to growth. For any given thing, it is either growing, or it is not growing. “Not growing” covers every possibility other than growing, so between the two of them, they cover all the bases. There is no third option where you’re neither growing nor not growing, after all.
So it’s not absolutism at all. It’s very simple logic.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 6 October 2006 @ 9:47 AM
You misunderstood me. I was talking about your absolute assertion that civilization must either grow or collapse. Maybe my choice of words is wrong.
But there is a third option. It’s called being a steady-state. You’re growing and you’re not shrinking. There, you are not growing or shrinking, you are staying the same. I’m six feet tall now and have been six feet for the past two years. I’m not growing, but I’m not shrinking here.
What I don’t get is why you can think only in terms of civilization as something that either is growing or is collapsing, and cannot shrink without collapsing completely. I’ve yet to find a backing in this for history.
I’ve read Marvin Harris now, and in the book “Cannibals and Kings” which I am sure you are familiar with, he argues that the populations of empires between 2000 and 1 A.D. were relatively stationary. So why must civilization collapse if it stops growing?
[Editor’s note: This is another comment from Taylor I’ve let through because he raises an interesting point worth answering.]
Comment by perma_student — 6 October 2006 @ 3:36 PM
Well, you did say “Where is the backing for your assertion that civilization must either grow or not grow? That seems extremely absolutist to me.”
But, to put my claim into more logical terms, what you’re taking issue with is my claim that civilization must always be a member of P, and if it is a member of not P, it is in collapse. The set of not P, or, “things that are not growing,” includes both things that are contracting, and things that are in a steady state, since steady state is not growing. We might think of these as positive numbers, negative numbers, and the always-special case of zero. That’s what you’re asking: “What about zero?”
So, consider what civilization in a steady state actually means. It’s neither growing nor contracting. The economy has no growth. If I make an investment—any investment—it’s just as likely to succeed as to fail.
Are you familiar with the idea of expected value? It weights your possible gain by the probability of it occuring. If we’re gambling (and that’s what all investment is), then “expected value” is what we could expect to win if we were to play the game over and over again. The more we played, the more the actual sum would approach the expected value.
So, if we’re flipping coins, and for every head that comes up, I give you a dollar, and for every tail that comes up, you give me a dollar, one of us will probably get ahead if we just play a few rounds. But as we flip the coins more and more, it approaches 50% heads and 50% tails, so the expected value for our winnings is $0, because we’re going to lose as much as we win. This is some basic statistics, so any good textbook can fill you in with the math behind it. Follow so far?
So, among other things, a steady state society means that the expected value for any investment is zero. Any given investment might get you a return, but you’re also just as likely to lose out. If the expected value were positive, that would mean that most investments net a return, which would mean the society was growing; if the expected value were negative, that would mean that most investments would be a loss, which would mean the society was contracting. Steady state is when the expected value for any investment is precisely zero. Make sense so far?
So … why invest anything? Even with an expected value of zero, investment is still risky. There’s still the potential to lose everything you invest (food, money, energy, these are fairly meaningless distinctions). You have everything that you have now, tautologically, and if you invest some of it, you’re most likely to have the exact same amount you started off with, but you also risk losing what you have.
Economists assume rationality, which is often a flawed assumpton, but rationality means, among other things, that the only risks people will take are those with positive expected values. If the expected value is not positive, people simply won’t invest.
I’ve used that word several times now, but what does that mean, “invest”? I chose it because it’s so magnificently vague. Going to work in the morning is an investment. Paving a new road is an investment. All the maintenance that it takes to keep civilization from crashing down, is an investment. We make that investment because society is growing—because the expected value on our return on investment (ROI) is positive, because most of the time, we can expect to get more out than we put in, and we can make that assumption because our society is growing.
Why must civilizations always grow? Because civilizations need maintenance. They do not maintain themselves, the way more organic societies do. Tribes and bands maintain themselves. Civilizations do not. Because they need maintenance, civilization must offer some incentive to provide such maintenance. Without growth, there is no incentive to put forth the investments necessary to maintain civilization. So for something like civilization, steady state is as good as contraction.
But people DO have an incentive to maintain civilization, don’t they? What about the need to maintain the civilization they’ve always known to keep it from crumbling into collapse?
There’s a massive difference between that kind of incentive, and the personal incentive I’m talking about. The incentive I’m talking about does not appeal to altruism, but rationality: you should do this because it’s a good idea for you. The “guilt trip” basis of civilization this idea offers is not an investment, but an obligation. Obligations must be extracted somehow. Force is the most blatant way to think of it, i.e., sending the soldiers out to collect taxes and beat up any peasants that won’t pay, but there are more subtle forms, as well. Guilt and appeals to conscience can also work. One problem with any approach is that any extraction you can come up with—even the guilt trip—is going to take energy. The other major problem is that everyone will resent the obligation, and rather than everyone trying to make the investment (as they do when there is growth), instead everyone tries to avoid making the investment. They try to find ways not to pay their taxes, or to pay as little as they can. Even if it is appreciated as a necessary element for one’s own well-being (as one might argue the contemporary federal government is for large American corporations), they will still try to avoid supporting it on the thinking that it is a diffused, collective obligation. In other words, if I can funnel all my money to an off-shore tax haven, I can be spared this obligation that’s really not in my favor at all, but still enjoy the benefits because everyone else is still making their obligatory payments. This is the same thinking that capitalist apologists attributed to Communism: they may all know what needs to be done, but they will also all wait for someone else to do it. As the Kitty Genovese case highlighted in such lurid terms, the diffusion of responsibility is very strong in extinguishing personal motivation to action (being yet another example of how our intuition and ability to really handle situations breaks down when we are in large groups, just like our inability to intuitively understand exponential growth, or our inability to appreciate people beyond 150).
But didn’t Marvin Harris say that population was relatively stationary in the ancient world?
A long-term graph of human population shows the actual dynamic here. The enormous population growth in the Industrial Age makes everything before it indistinguishable, but if we clip off everything prior to 1700, we see that the shape of the curve doesn’t change that much: it’s still a fairly flat line hugging the bottom, with a sudden spike up at the most recent end. Granted, the spike becomes increasingly modest as we look at population growth from a few tens of millions to the first billion in the 1800s, and compared to today, you can certainly call it “relatively stationary,” but compared to the dynamic equilibrium of forager societies, the Roman Empire was a runaway train of overpopulation checked only by the incredible misery of disease and early mortality.
Notice, too, that even while we might call the Roman population “relatively stationary,” relative to our current overpopulation (but certainly not relative to any sustainable population), the society was most certainly growing. The size and scale of the Roman Empire, and its complexity, were all decidedly increasing. Consider one example: the panem et circenses (”bread and circuses”) which Roman aristocrats used as a sort of conspicuous consumption or competitive feasting to compete for prestige and popular support. Such displays were useless unless they outdid the previous display, and as a result, the displays were always growing more ostentatious and elaborate. Extending this trend over centuries leads one very easily to the weeks-long triumphs of Julius Caesar, and easier still to the orgies and debacles of Caligula.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 6 October 2006 @ 4:35 PM