Insight and inspiration in turbulent times.
In recent discussions in the peak oil blogosphere, the term “resilience” has taken over much of the space once occupied by “sustainability.” Both these words have implications that conflict sharply with the conventional wisdom of our time, but resilience in particular points toward a strategy that, though unwelcome, offers one of the few effective responses to the crisis of our time.
The pervasive (and especially North American) notion that the arts need to be assigned a monetary value in order to be legitimized is quite simply misplaced. Arts and culture provide intangible value to society; they transcend monetary values just as they transcend history. In a future clouded with economic and environmental uncertainty, subsistence endeavors such as the arts should feature more prominently in society as we move towards a steady state.
On both sides of the Atlantic, these issues seem to have considerable potential to worsen to the point that they affect the real economy. If so, the oil price spike of 2010/2011 will be over, and resource issues will continue their retreat to the back of the business section of the newspaper.
Today, for those seeking out an alternative vision of urban success, with new and innovative ideas about what the city of tomorrow should be, it’s Detroit, not New York, that offers the ultimate arena in which to prove yourself.
For many years the thesis of this blog has been: Our civilization is in its final century, and there is nothing we can do to prevent its collapse. When I began writing this, I was largely dismissed as a defeatist and a depressed “doomer” (or worse). As awareness has grown about the now-inevitable end of (a) cheap energy, (b) stable climate and (c) the growth economy, there is a growing acknowledgement that the collapse scenario I have written about is at least conceivable.
The streets are commons that belong to everyone. So imagine diverting traffic from a major street in your neighborhood, then welcoming families on bikes, families on foot, babies in strollers, people in wheelchairs, toddlers on training wheels, grade schoolers on skateboards, teenagers on single-speeds, hipsters on fixed gears, grandparents on recumbents, couples arm-in-arm and even yoga classes in the middle of the road. What would happen? If your neighborhood is anything like mine—which I am sure it is—get ready for a massive outbreak of smiles.
I am a happy poor person. There are many things I have had to give up and get adjusted to, going from a comfortably middle-class, corporate-suburban existence to living a lifestyle far below the poverty line. But make no mistake: I’m happy. Extraordinarily so. More than I have ever been. I’m not sure I talk about that enough. It’s time to rhapsodize.
A spanish translation of the Post Carbon Institute report ‘The Food and Farming Transition: Toward a Post-Carbon Food System’.El sistema alimentario norteamericano descansa sobre unas bases inestables de insumos de combustible fósil masivos. Ante la disminución de las reservas de combustible el sistema alimentario se debe reinventar. El nuevo utilizará menos energía, y la energía que use vendrá de fuentes renovables. Podemos empezar la transición al nuevo sistema inmediatamente mediante un proceso de cambio planificado, graduado y rápido. La alternativa no planificada –la reconstrucción desde la base tras el colapso- sería caótica y trágica.
People come to permaculture for all different reasons, but all through some shared understanding that we live in a world full of disconnects. Many of us feel disconnected from the sources of our food, water and energy, and equally as disconnected from our neighbors, our communities, and our government. We know about the problems and we think there must be solutions. But what draws people to permaculture (as opposed to other approaches) is that its solutions fit together. In a world full of disconnects, permaculture shows us how to make connections.
Richard Heinberg hosts a conversation with Rob Hopkins on New Thinking in Transition. The podcast begins with Rob giving an update on what is going on in the Transition movement and introducing the upcoming Transition handbook, and is followed by a Q and A.
“Transition towns, recycling, alternative power, enduring design; they are just attacking the symptoms. They are merely allowing us to continue living the way we are. They are buying us time. They are not embracing the root cause — our psychology.” Evolution and psychology explain our urge to consume, argues a new documentary film from the United Kingdom entitledConsumed — Inside the Belly of the Beast.
Ever since Paul Kingsnorth and I published Uncivilisation: The Dark Mountain Manifesto, two years ago this month, I’ve found myself struggling to explain exactly what Dark Mountain is about. There was never a slogan or an action plan – by contrast, the Transition movement does a brilliant job of distilling important messages into simple suggestions that people can put into practice. And yet I have come to see the difficulty of summing up Dark Mountain as part of what it has to offer: an invitation to slow down, to step out of the rush of answers and actions for a while, and dwell with the puzzle of living in these strange times.
