I appreciate your efforts in the world, both the physical efforts and those that reside outside our senses.
I am your neighbor, so to speak, living in northwestern Cambodia since 2006. My wife, son and I have a 1-hectare farm. High expectations for this tiny piece of earth: the place where my son learns how to take care of himself in a changing world (the villagers where we live know more about the living world and how to survive in it than I will ever learn), as a source of water, food and fiber and home, and a place my wife can produce the things she needs to survive should I no longer be here or unable to work as I do now. Of course, we have successes and failures nearly every day. As you are probably well aware, when tiny humans attempt to create a functioning ecosystem that produces things civilized humans need on a small piece of damaged earth, you are trying to achieve the impossible.
Like you, I try to explain to people what is happening here in Cambodia and in the Asia Pacific. That people here, almost to a one, want to live modern, affluent lives and are willing to work very hard to achieve this, and are also willing to destroy the living world to get what they think they deserve, as many countries have already done and continue to do.
I originally came to Cambodia to work for a nonprofit doing climate change adaptation/mitigation projects. Strangely, while in Cambodia doing this ‘save the world work,’ I realized not only could I not ‘save the world,’ but that the living world was almost assuredly screwed.
Working, learning and traveling around South, Southeast and East Asia (where 55% of the world’s human population lives) for the past 20 years, it became clear that the people living in these regions, as societies, believed in and lived the myth of human supremacy just as profoundly as those living in more ‘affluent’ regions of the civilized world. For example, the material culture in rural Cambodia when I first came here—as much as a white man from the USA can understand this— was based on subsistence agriculture and rooted in a spiritual ecology of Animistic Buddhism. The simple material living and the deep understanding of their land lured me into believing I’d found my place and people in the world. But as the forests around me were felled for green revolution agriculture and the karst hillsides disappeared to build highways and dams, the people mostly cheered. While the rural communities and households who took part in our rooftop rainwater harvesting, home-scale water filtration, organic agriculture, and community bank projects were happy to be a part of them and worked hard to make them successful, nearly all these people wanted for themselves and assuredly for their children, by their own and open admission, to live modern, affluent lives. They wanted to drive cars to work in air-conditioned offices, shop in supermarkets, have large homes equipped with all the modern conveniences, go to shopping malls, etc. In short, they wanted to thrive in an ecocidal economy.
As a person who grew up with all the benefits of ecocidal living—the effects of the steady collapse of the biosphere were not as obvious when I was growing up as they are now— it is hard to talk about modern, affluent living being ecocidal, without coming off as an asshole, perhaps rightly so. Still, when I think of the destruction of habitats and ecosystems in the name of building a global omnicidal culture, it is heartbreaking.
Sorry for such a long rant. I wanted to let you know that someone appreciated your writing and efforts at creating a more life-centric world.
I wish you and your loved ones long lives filled with love!
Thank you for sharing your story. I don't know what to make of the fact that people generally like "development." I can think of so many examples of those who have also resisted it, i.e. there are still dozens of "uncontacted" tribes, who are actually defiantly resisting global civ. What is different about their neurology/physiology that they fight to protect traditional ways instead of acceding to modernity? How can we breed wild humans again?
I don't know, Jessica, to all your questions. I don't know seems to be my reply to more and more questions the older I get. I know that I want it all for my son: to be a healthy human animal and all that means, and to know love in his life always. I wish it for all us. Thanks for your questions.
I was actually a bit unsure whether to put it like that (living "like me") because it does sound awfully self-righteous, but the thing is this: knowing what I knew, feeling how I felt (back when I was still a "regular member" of society), I simply can't understand why anyone would choose to stay "in civilization" (simplification for reasons of brevity, sorry) and live a regular life, despite the comforts and luxuries it offers. Once I understood what's happening, it's almost like I didn't even have a choice. Maybe the self-preservation instinct?
Jun 9, 2023·edited Jun 9, 2023Liked by David B Lauterwasser
I cannot claim to answer for everyone who has chosen to continue an existence "in civilization." For myself, I suppose I don't see much of a difference either way. It is certainly possible I may be able to sustain myself as the world declines, but in addition to many skills, I suspect it will require a lot of luck. As far as westerners go, I am happier with a simpler lifestyle than average (with the full recognition that even that is well beyond unsustainable), and I just want to enjoy what time we have left. Given that we cannot save the world, I tell myself I just want to be blamed a little less than those around me. It's enough to get through the day.
I am deeply grateful every day that I chose not to have children. It is hard enough to look at the next generation growing up between family, friends, and neighbours. The grief I would feel for my own would drown me.
True, if everyone decided to do that *at the same time,* it would lead to major complications (and, I might add, that would not even be desirable for a variety of other reasons, like logistics and repression from the still-strong state). But the good news is that not everyone *wants* to live like this, and people are welcome to stay in the cities as long as they please - until the "bitter end," so to speak. Furthermore, I think a slow but steady flow of people "leaving civilization," together with the general decline in population growth could - in theory - smoothen things a bit population-wise, maybe aided by a bit of serious economic turmoil to free up land.
What some researchers have already termed a "looming demographic crisis" will only accelerate due to increased chemical pollution (endocrine disruptors in the environment have led to an "alarming" decline in sperm count among men worldwide, but especially in developed nations) and conscious family planning (people deciding now it's not the best time to have more kids than the replacement rate, with some having none at all). That, together with occasional famines and wars (tragedies in and of themselves, but sadly unavoidable) will, as Limits to Growth predicted, lead to a population decline during this century. How steep this decline will be remains to be seen.
A contraction of the global population is inevitable, regardless of how many people become more self-sufficient in the coming years. But, for the sake of the environment and the survival of the human race: the more, the merrier!
I still hope that as things become increasingly desperate, there might be instances in which people are aided in this process by the still existing governments, as I outlined in my articles "Back to the Land" and "What to eat when the stores are Empty XIII". It's a very optimistic take, I know, but considering the ecosystem services those people would provide and the burden they'd take off the system, why not? It all depends a lot on what will happen in politics as the environmental crisis worsens.
I live in a city and enjoy the benefits and conviniences of consumer society. I know how it is impossible to maintain but if I try bringing this up as a topic of conversation people simply aren't interested especially given I don't actually have a "better solution" so why listen to me over the techno-optimists who say we just need more solar panels. It's easy to lose myself in the pleasures of modern life such as board-games, gardening (not subsistance) and camping trips to the middle of nowhere where I still very much rely on modern civilisation for food and equipment. I wouldn't call myself a primitivist as this is clearly a way of life and a calling not just an opinion. I live with the knowledge that my way of life is doomed to failure and I can't change this.
I live in the East Coast USA, and find this essay painfully accurate.
Nobody actually wants to be saved. We all choked on the smoke last week, but with the expectation that "next week it will be gone and we can go back to usual."
We are gonna run this train until the wheels melt off baby
Thanks for the interesting read. I share your mother's sentiments reagrding the kids, having 8 grandkids myself scattered around the world. At 72, I will hopefully be pushing up daisies when the shit really starts hitting the fan, but the grandkids will need to be tough and inventive to weather the coming storm. I can understand the urge to do a lot of prepping, but the problem I see in the short term is how to keep hungry marauding hordes from raiding my vegetable patch. FWIW, I live in a little farming village in the Japanese countryside whose inhabitants, despite including very few fulltime farmers now, have a wealth of useful knowledge, and we do a lot to maintain the community's physical and social infrastructure. Given the bonds that hold us together and connect us to surrounding villages, I think we're better equipped than many others to cope with general collapse, and might even enjoy doing so if not threatened by desperate freeloaders. As it is, though, I see us being put under enormous pressure by those not so well equipped and with less compunction about using violence. Whenever I ponder such issues, my mind takes me to Octavia Butler's amazingly prescient "Parable of the Sower."
I appreciate your efforts in the world, both the physical efforts and those that reside outside our senses.
I am your neighbor, so to speak, living in northwestern Cambodia since 2006. My wife, son and I have a 1-hectare farm. High expectations for this tiny piece of earth: the place where my son learns how to take care of himself in a changing world (the villagers where we live know more about the living world and how to survive in it than I will ever learn), as a source of water, food and fiber and home, and a place my wife can produce the things she needs to survive should I no longer be here or unable to work as I do now. Of course, we have successes and failures nearly every day. As you are probably well aware, when tiny humans attempt to create a functioning ecosystem that produces things civilized humans need on a small piece of damaged earth, you are trying to achieve the impossible.
Like you, I try to explain to people what is happening here in Cambodia and in the Asia Pacific. That people here, almost to a one, want to live modern, affluent lives and are willing to work very hard to achieve this, and are also willing to destroy the living world to get what they think they deserve, as many countries have already done and continue to do.
I originally came to Cambodia to work for a nonprofit doing climate change adaptation/mitigation projects. Strangely, while in Cambodia doing this ‘save the world work,’ I realized not only could I not ‘save the world,’ but that the living world was almost assuredly screwed.
Working, learning and traveling around South, Southeast and East Asia (where 55% of the world’s human population lives) for the past 20 years, it became clear that the people living in these regions, as societies, believed in and lived the myth of human supremacy just as profoundly as those living in more ‘affluent’ regions of the civilized world. For example, the material culture in rural Cambodia when I first came here—as much as a white man from the USA can understand this— was based on subsistence agriculture and rooted in a spiritual ecology of Animistic Buddhism. The simple material living and the deep understanding of their land lured me into believing I’d found my place and people in the world. But as the forests around me were felled for green revolution agriculture and the karst hillsides disappeared to build highways and dams, the people mostly cheered. While the rural communities and households who took part in our rooftop rainwater harvesting, home-scale water filtration, organic agriculture, and community bank projects were happy to be a part of them and worked hard to make them successful, nearly all these people wanted for themselves and assuredly for their children, by their own and open admission, to live modern, affluent lives. They wanted to drive cars to work in air-conditioned offices, shop in supermarkets, have large homes equipped with all the modern conveniences, go to shopping malls, etc. In short, they wanted to thrive in an ecocidal economy.
As a person who grew up with all the benefits of ecocidal living—the effects of the steady collapse of the biosphere were not as obvious when I was growing up as they are now— it is hard to talk about modern, affluent living being ecocidal, without coming off as an asshole, perhaps rightly so. Still, when I think of the destruction of habitats and ecosystems in the name of building a global omnicidal culture, it is heartbreaking.
Sorry for such a long rant. I wanted to let you know that someone appreciated your writing and efforts at creating a more life-centric world.
I wish you and your loved ones long lives filled with love!
Thank you for sharing your story. I don't know what to make of the fact that people generally like "development." I can think of so many examples of those who have also resisted it, i.e. there are still dozens of "uncontacted" tribes, who are actually defiantly resisting global civ. What is different about their neurology/physiology that they fight to protect traditional ways instead of acceding to modernity? How can we breed wild humans again?
I don't know, Jessica, to all your questions. I don't know seems to be my reply to more and more questions the older I get. I know that I want it all for my son: to be a healthy human animal and all that means, and to know love in his life always. I wish it for all us. Thanks for your questions.
The Main problem is: There are too many people living on earth. So, not all of them could live like you, even if they wanted to.
I was actually a bit unsure whether to put it like that (living "like me") because it does sound awfully self-righteous, but the thing is this: knowing what I knew, feeling how I felt (back when I was still a "regular member" of society), I simply can't understand why anyone would choose to stay "in civilization" (simplification for reasons of brevity, sorry) and live a regular life, despite the comforts and luxuries it offers. Once I understood what's happening, it's almost like I didn't even have a choice. Maybe the self-preservation instinct?
I cannot claim to answer for everyone who has chosen to continue an existence "in civilization." For myself, I suppose I don't see much of a difference either way. It is certainly possible I may be able to sustain myself as the world declines, but in addition to many skills, I suspect it will require a lot of luck. As far as westerners go, I am happier with a simpler lifestyle than average (with the full recognition that even that is well beyond unsustainable), and I just want to enjoy what time we have left. Given that we cannot save the world, I tell myself I just want to be blamed a little less than those around me. It's enough to get through the day.
I am deeply grateful every day that I chose not to have children. It is hard enough to look at the next generation growing up between family, friends, and neighbours. The grief I would feel for my own would drown me.
True, if everyone decided to do that *at the same time,* it would lead to major complications (and, I might add, that would not even be desirable for a variety of other reasons, like logistics and repression from the still-strong state). But the good news is that not everyone *wants* to live like this, and people are welcome to stay in the cities as long as they please - until the "bitter end," so to speak. Furthermore, I think a slow but steady flow of people "leaving civilization," together with the general decline in population growth could - in theory - smoothen things a bit population-wise, maybe aided by a bit of serious economic turmoil to free up land.
What some researchers have already termed a "looming demographic crisis" will only accelerate due to increased chemical pollution (endocrine disruptors in the environment have led to an "alarming" decline in sperm count among men worldwide, but especially in developed nations) and conscious family planning (people deciding now it's not the best time to have more kids than the replacement rate, with some having none at all). That, together with occasional famines and wars (tragedies in and of themselves, but sadly unavoidable) will, as Limits to Growth predicted, lead to a population decline during this century. How steep this decline will be remains to be seen.
A contraction of the global population is inevitable, regardless of how many people become more self-sufficient in the coming years. But, for the sake of the environment and the survival of the human race: the more, the merrier!
I still hope that as things become increasingly desperate, there might be instances in which people are aided in this process by the still existing governments, as I outlined in my articles "Back to the Land" and "What to eat when the stores are Empty XIII". It's a very optimistic take, I know, but considering the ecosystem services those people would provide and the burden they'd take off the system, why not? It all depends a lot on what will happen in politics as the environmental crisis worsens.
Thanks. Still, I still think the least worst, least impossible human way to adapt it this, would appreciate your feedback: https://mfioretti.substack.com/p/the-city-reboot-for-2070-that-we-122
Thank you for this essay. I always find it as a light of sobriety in the darkness of chaos.
I live in a city and enjoy the benefits and conviniences of consumer society. I know how it is impossible to maintain but if I try bringing this up as a topic of conversation people simply aren't interested especially given I don't actually have a "better solution" so why listen to me over the techno-optimists who say we just need more solar panels. It's easy to lose myself in the pleasures of modern life such as board-games, gardening (not subsistance) and camping trips to the middle of nowhere where I still very much rely on modern civilisation for food and equipment. I wouldn't call myself a primitivist as this is clearly a way of life and a calling not just an opinion. I live with the knowledge that my way of life is doomed to failure and I can't change this.
I live in the East Coast USA, and find this essay painfully accurate.
Nobody actually wants to be saved. We all choked on the smoke last week, but with the expectation that "next week it will be gone and we can go back to usual."
We are gonna run this train until the wheels melt off baby
David, this essay made my day. Thank you for sharing your perspective!
Thanks for the interesting read. I share your mother's sentiments reagrding the kids, having 8 grandkids myself scattered around the world. At 72, I will hopefully be pushing up daisies when the shit really starts hitting the fan, but the grandkids will need to be tough and inventive to weather the coming storm. I can understand the urge to do a lot of prepping, but the problem I see in the short term is how to keep hungry marauding hordes from raiding my vegetable patch. FWIW, I live in a little farming village in the Japanese countryside whose inhabitants, despite including very few fulltime farmers now, have a wealth of useful knowledge, and we do a lot to maintain the community's physical and social infrastructure. Given the bonds that hold us together and connect us to surrounding villages, I think we're better equipped than many others to cope with general collapse, and might even enjoy doing so if not threatened by desperate freeloaders. As it is, though, I see us being put under enormous pressure by those not so well equipped and with less compunction about using violence. Whenever I ponder such issues, my mind takes me to Octavia Butler's amazingly prescient "Parable of the Sower."