Climate Crisis: My Personal Plan
As you probably know, I’m a member of the doom squad: I believe we—humanity—are not going to muster the political will to take effective action against global warming. I’m the type of person who needs to have a plan for the future, so I’ve got one for handling this (all to soon) eventuality. My plan is simple: I am going to die.
In our culture, we revere the hero who goes down fighting, even against overwhelming odds. How many of us are that hero? Most of us may not know unless and until we have our trial by fire. But me, I know: I’m no hero. I’m just going to die.
What other plans are possible, besides just dying? A very popular one, it seems, is denial, that proverbial river in Egypt. Business as usual, nothing to see here, move on, move on. This is actually a great plan. It allows one to keep living life to its fullest, until the time comes that it is no longer possible. But this “plan” isn’t really a choice, is it? It’s just your personality type. Unfortunately for me, it’s not possible for me.
Another very, very popular plan is to make hay while the sun shines. Night is coming, whether or not we want it to, so let’s grab for all we can get until then. This approach is cynical and neither generous, nor kind, nor compassionate, my three highest values. It’s sociopathic, it’s psychotic. It’s the chosen plan of oil industry executives and politicians the world over. I can’t do it. I’m greedy, but not that greedy. And not that cold.
The plan chosen by perhaps the best-hearted among us is to work to avoid the catastrophe. Or to lessen the inevitable catastrophe. Or to soften the blow. God bless you people! If I could think of anything to do, personally, that would have any impact to those ends, I would do it. (If it weren’t too much work or sacrifice.) But I don’t see it. I hope I do see it eventually, but at this point it time, it all looks futile to me.
Here’s a good one: If I feel too small to have any impact on the catastrophe itself, perhaps I can still do something to help a few people. If I can help even a single person, shouldn’t I do that? Yes, I should! Well, I hope I can help someone or several someones before I die. But do you know what? I’m starting to doubt the intrinsic value of any single human’s life whatsoever. A million dead in the USA from COVID, and nobody seems to care. Endless mass shootings in the USA, and no gun laws are passed. Poverty and hunger in the USA and around the world, and we just let it happen. And you want to tell me human life has value?
Why not become a doomsday prepper? Will it prove to have been worthwhile? I’m not sure. Do I have what it takes? I don’t think so.
Here is what seems to me to be the best plan for those who really want to survive the coming catastrophe: Form self-sustaining, mutually supportive small communities. The recent HBO Max show Station Eleven starring MacKenzie Davis is one envisioning of this post-apocalyptic future. The cool thing is, you can start forming your communities now. You have a little bit of time to get it together and develop your sustainable practices and community bonds. (And security measures.) You will have a loving, supportive family as you thrive for perhaps decades longer than the rest of us. A few of your communities may even survive long term. (You have essentially formed a hunter-gatherer tribe, the only orgnaization of human society that has lasted tens of thousands of years.) Good luck, you guys! If I were younger, more sociable, and more life-loving, this would be the path for me.
But I’m just going to die. I’m old (young-old, let’s say: 67) and I’ve done enough living. Another decade or two is plenty for me, and I really don’t care if today is my last. I’ve achieved what I’m going to achieve in life. I have no further goals. I never procreated (there’s my biggest contribution to mitigating climate change) so I’ve got no children or future generations of me that I care about. I’ve got some family but we’re not close, so they can make their own choices.
Realistically speaking, I have no survival skills. I’ve never grown or killed a single thing I’ve eaten. I can’t fight, can’t handle any weapon effectively. When the grocery shelves go empty, I’m dead! I have no way to grow hunt or procure food. When the wells and reservoirs run dry, I die of thirst. When some guys with guns show up to take what I have, I hope they shoot me, because I’m dead anyway. I have no way to resist them, and when they turn me out or run off with my resources, I’m dead anyway.
Oh, I’ll probably use my savings (what hasn’t been destroyed by inflation and the coming stock market crash), and the funds I get from selling my house (if I can sell it—especially after it has burnt down in the coming forest fires), to run for a bit. Me and my honey can pack up the car and drive to somewhere more survivable for while, where food and water and shelter are still available. But it won’t be long before the money runs out, or there is nowhere else to run to, and then I’m dead. I’m fortunate to live in the USA, where things will probably be survivable for a couple decades longer than those parts of the world that get it worstest fastest. (I’m looking at you, India and Saudi Arabia.) But then I’m dead. There’s a certain kind of peace of mind in accepting that death is not just inevitable, but coming soon.
So my plan is: I’m not going to fight it. I’m not going to struggle for every last hour of life. When it is clear that the end is nigh, I’ll be looking for the easiest way out. Maybe I’ll invest in a Sarco pod.
My plan is to die. What’s your plan?
— Lannie Rose 6/2022
