Archive for October, 2009

What Does it Look Like to You?

Sharon October 7th, 2009

It has been a while since I’ve had people post their updates of what they are seeing, but this article at Huffington Post encouraged me to ask how things are going in your neck of the woods?  Are things as much better as the news reports?  

I find myself fascinated by the insistence of the media that things are getting better – it is true that the stock market is up, and that the rate of job losses has declined slightly (although not nearly as much, we learn, as the reports suggest), but the idea that not losing quite so many jobs constitutes recovery is sort of fascinating.  The definition of “a good sign” or an indication of “recovery” keeps changing, and getting lower. 

Meanwhile, at the practical “affects how you actually live” level, things are getting worse.  Deflation seems to have taken full hold, state budget receipts are falling, leaving deficits that state constitutions don’t permit, and services for those most in need are falling.  The big question is how long the nation can borrow from the future to keep things going.

So what does this look like through your eyes?  Are things getting better?  Worse?  How about for your community?

Sharon

Farm and Garden Design Class!

Sharon October 6th, 2009

I don’t know where the time has gone, but our farm and garden design class is starting up next week, and in the course of all the chaos, I’m only now pulling things together.  Aaron and I are both very excited about this class – starting in October means that most people in most climates will have a chance to either get prepared for the coming year, do basic infrastructure work, and get their plans in order before the new season comes around.  This is great for those of us in cold climates – now is a great time to do soil prep and planning, and it is good for people in warmer places who can use this information to plant perennials and up their winter crops, as well as planning for next year and the long term. 

The emphasis on the class will be maximizing the food you can grow in the space you have, and on making the best use of your land – whether you own it or not, whether it is vast or tiny, sunny or shady.  Our goal is to help people really get their gardens in order, and come out of the class with a design plan that doesn’t just cover the next season, but that helps you really use your site well over the long term.

 Aaron is a former landscape architect who now does independent design and urban farming.  Me, I farm out in the country and discovered much of what I know by trial and error, and I think we make a good team.  This class is a lot of fun!

The class is offered asynchronously online – you don’t have to be online at any particular time, you follow along at your own pace.  We will put up new material and homework every Thursday, but will be available at other times also.  There’s a group discussion segment for sharing ideas and chatting, a chance to have a phone consultation with one of us, and a lot of guidance in building your plan and moving forward on your garden.

The cost of the class is $180 for a six week online intensive.  I have a couple of scholarship spots for low income participants as well, and we will consider mutually beneficial barter arrangements as well.  Contact me at jewishfarmer@gmail.com.  Here’s the syllabus:

Thursday, October 15: Sun, Soil, Water; Taking Measurements; The Project of Design,  Meet Your Graph Paper ; Small Space and Urban challenges, Container Gardening, Getting Started,

Thursday, October 22:  Soil Preparation, Perennial Plantings, Orcharding and Woody Agriculture; Permaculture, Seed Starting and Variety Selection,  Calorie Crops, Beginning to Plan, Design Project 1 – A Courtyard Garden

Thursday, October 29: Transforming a City or Suburban Lot, Dealing with Zoning, Small Livestock and Polyculture; Finding More Land; Gardening Cheaply, Gardening in an Unstable Climate, Design Project 2 – A Suburban Yard

Thursday, November 5: Community and Garden; The CSA Model, Making Money, Children’s Gardens, Year-Round Gardening, Maximizing the Harvest Garden Design Project, 3: An Urban Farm – in Many Yards

Thursday, November 12: The CSA Model, Farm vs. Garden, Making Shade Productive, Vertical Gardening, Succession and Long term Planning, Deep Food Security.
Thursday November 19: Visions for the Future, Long Term Fertility, Larger Livestock, Becoming a Victory Farmer; After the Design Phase; Garden Design Project 4: A Larger Farm – In Smaller Pieces

 Sharon

Back from the Home

Sharon October 6th, 2009

In high school and college, I worked a lot in nursing homes.  I thought the work was more interesting than burger flipping, and I liked many of the patients.  I liked that I did something that mattered.  And I came to realize that if it were at all possible to avoid, I didn’t want to see my parents or grandparents in a nursing home.

It wasn’t that the homes I worked in were awful – they mostly weren’t.  Oh, I worked in one bad one, but since all nursing homes always needed more workers, I could pick and choose.  It wasn’t that the staff weren’t kind – most of them were low income workers, some illegal, others immigrants.  Despite the fact that they often weren’t treated that well, that the job was physically demanding and the pay appalling (it was good by my college student standards, but I didn’t have to support a family on it), with a couple of exceptions, everyone was kind, patient and generally, as responsive as they possibly could be.

But even then there weren’t enough staff to go around.  There wasn’t enough light or air or individual attention.  Privacy disappeared, those whose minds were intact were often treated as though they weren’t, and the institution ruled all.  Often patients were stuck in front of the tv, or otherwise managed to make them need as little as possible.   Sometimes they were utterly abandoned by their families, and the staff was unable to begin to help those losses.  I remember an elderly Greek woman with alzheimers whose children abandoned her – she spoke no english, had no idea where she was most of the time.  I took the time to go get a Greek-English dictionary out of the library and copy out basic terms, so that we could speak to her, but her children never did as much – they didn’t even respond to frantic queries by staff to please help us understand her. 

Moreover, even when the staff was the best possible staff, even when the circumstances were the best possible circumstances, the reality of institutions is that there is little particularity of care – that is, one cares for a group of disabled elders, rather than for a particular person, accomodating their particular ways. 

Don’t get me wrong – having cared for many people with alzheimers and after strokes, I don’t judge those who can’t care for elderly parents and grandparents at home.  We were fortunate in many ways – we committed to keeping Eric’s grandparents out of a nursing home, but Eric’s grandfather was only truly disoriented and failing deeply for a matter of a few months, while Eric’s grandmother, instead of a long decline, had an accident and a comparatively quick death.  And we were fortunate enough to have me be able to be at home – two adults with full time jobs caring for an adult who needs constant physical attention is exhausting and frustrating.  There is a place for skilled nursing care in the world.  There are elders who simply cannot be kept at home.

That said, however, every nursing home I ever worked in also contained patients who could have continued to live with family, had there been anyone to be even reasonably accomodating.  One of my favorite patients was a woman who had had a stroke, and was unable to walk – her strong, healthy and retired son and daughter in law visited daily during the 7 years she lived in the nursing home – and enjoyed lively conversation with a woman of deep intellect and humor. All she required for daily care was a little help transferring from bed to chair to bathroom, and I admit, I was completely mystified as to why she was stuck in a shared room with three other women, sitting in her chair, waiting for her children to visit.  I enquired, and she told me that when her son had suggested a nursing home, she’d agreed, because she could see he didn’t really want her living with him.

Most of us, if we envision something other than wholly independent old age, probably hope for something like an affluent person’s assisted living community or a senior residence.  The reality is that these places are available only to those with substantial savings or income, or high value housing to trade.  And it is also the case that when your savings are gone, you are removed from such places – it is not at all uncommon for someone to enter assisted living and outlive their income or housing value, and have to move either back in with family or into a nursing home.

Affluent assisted living, funded by a rising housing market and stock market growth is simply not something most of us will be able to count on.  Which leaves one of two choices - the care of loved ones or nursing homes.  And the nursing home option is about to get a lot worse:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091004/ap_on_re_us/us_meltdown_nursing_home_cuts_3

“The nation’s nursing homes are perilously close to laying off workers, cutting services — possibly even closing — because of a perfect storm wallop from the recession and deep federal and state government spending cuts, industry experts say.

A Medicare rate adjustment that cuts an estimated $16 billion in nursing home funding over the next 10 years was enacted at week’s end by the federal Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services — on top of state-level cuts or flat-funding that already had the industry reeling.

And Congress is debating slashing billions more in Medicare funding as part of health care reform.

Add it all up, and the nursing home industry is headed for a crisis, industry officials say.

“We can foresee the possibility of nursing homes having to close their doors,” said David Hebert, a senior vice president at the American Health Care Association. “I certainly foresee that we’ll have to let staff go.”

The funding crisis comes as the nation’s baby boomers age ever closer toward needing nursing home care. The nation’s 16,000 nursing homes housed 1.85 million people last year, up from 1.79 million in 2007, U.S. Census Bureau figures show.

Already this year, 24 states have cut funding for nursing home care and other health services needed by low-income people who are elderly or disabled, according to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, a nonprofit research firm based in Washington, D.C.”

As our population ages, the choices for caring for them are about to get much narrower – fewer options, fewer people with enough wealth to pay for all the amenities, and much worse public care for the elderly.   We were always facing this crisis – the baby boomer’s aging was always going to put a massive strain on our financial resources and ability to do elder care.  The situation is rendered more acute, however, by our collective crisis, and we must, quite rapidly, begin making plans for how we will care for aging parents and grandparents.  If before it was marginally possible to imagine putting them in a “home” fairly soon, it will not be.

I know many people who will say that they’d rather endure anything than be dependent on their children.  But the truth is this – that for most people, times will come in their lives when they are dependent – on spouses, and then, perhaps, on children.  It is part of our lives – we have a long stretch of dependency as children, grow up, have a long stretch of being the one to do and care, and a short or long stretch at the end.  You can either be dependent upon your children, or upon strangers who are paid to care for you – but either way, many lives will include periods of dependency.

You can view this in one of two ways – as completely normal, part of the structure of family life, or you can view it as becoming an intolerable burden.  You can shape the future of this dependency in several ways – we can structure our family life in such a way as to make it as pleasant and easy as possible, or we can do as we do, and make it as hard and unpleasant as possible.  We can, as much as possible, come together as extended families to spread the obligation around, or we can throw it back on the nearest child who happens to live the least long distance away from aging parents.  And we can keep parents idependently far away from us as long as humanly possible, so that when they do need to rely on their children, they are incapable of reciprocating and offering help in the house or with grandkids and good companionship, or we can combine households early, as people age, so that families can serve one another, and the transition to dependency is simply another part of a long history of inter-dependence.

There are no easy and good choices here – I know many people who beg their parents to consider living with or near them, and the parents won’t consider it.  I know families that can’t get along.  I know people with plenty of good reasons to be far away from those who need them.  None of this is simple.  None of the changes we need to make will be easy.  But they are necessary, and they might as well begin sooner, rather than later.

Sharon

A Palliative Care Approach to our Collective Crisis

Sharon October 5th, 2009

There was nothing in the Washington Post article (three essays back) that I didn’t know.  There was nothing in the Washington Post article that shocked me.  The fact that we aren’t on track to address climate change is not news.  The fact that we probably won’t address climate change successfully is not news.  I still don’t enjoy hearing it.  Nor can I respond as my climate-change skeptic readers will – I understand the science well enough to know that it simply isn’t sufficient to say that we don’t have perfect models, or that the climate is always changing.  Both are true, and neither is sufficient – no, we don’t have perfect models, but waiting until we do is not a viable choice.  Yes, the climate has changed in the past – but of course – and the consequences of those changes make it imperative that we not encourage the process, as we are now. 

The reality is this – the odds are extremely poor that we are going to prevent massive climate change precipitated by human emissions.  We’re unwilling to endure short term suffering in order to prevent much deeper long term suffering – as I’ve said several times, part of the reason we’ve failed is that climate activists have chosen to come at this as an easy sell – we’ve been told that green jobs will keep us rich, that our lifestyle can continue powered by new technologies, that all will be well, when the language of sacrifice was the only one available to us.  Now that it is becoming blazingly evident that only the most draconian measures will possibly give us a chance of having a climate like the one we’ve had for most of human history, we’re stuck with all those old false promises.

I do not believe we are free to stop working on preventing unchecked climate change until the deal is done. Why not?  Because what’s at stake are the people and things we love, and you don’t give up on those until they are dead and you’ve seen the corpse.  Imagine your loved one facing death from an illness – and you know there’s a 50% chance he or she will die.  Do you stop trying for life?  What about 20%?  What about 10%?  5%?  2%?  As far as I can tell, you go on fighting as long as there’s hope, however faint.

But extending the illness metaphor, it is important to note that when someone is facing a severe or even fatal illess, there’s a too pronged approach you can take that may work better than a single-minded focus on fixing the problem – this involves integrating curative medicine with palliative care.  And this, I think, is what’s most necessary at this moment.

Palliative care is medical care that focuses on the relief of symptoms and the maintenence of quality of life.  Unlike hospice care, which focuses on cases where loss is inevitable, palliative care has the same basic focus on relief of suffering, but can exist simultaneously with curative medicine.  In some cases the patient will be cured.  In some cases, the patient will die.  Either way, the relief of pain and the improvement of quality of life is one central focus.

Our approach to climate change, to energy depletion and to our financial crisis could learn something from this medical analysis – that it is not sufficient to focus only on the cure.  It is, of course, tempting to do so, to say that we can’t afford to divert resources from solutions that might save us.  But the problem with this is that it leaves us nothing but mourning if our work fails.  I should be clear here – I don’t really believe that most of our problems can be “cured” in any sense – that is, I don’t think we can stop depletion.  But we could render them radically less severe, perhaps shift from acute to chronic in some cases.

What would palliative care for a dying industrial civilization, for an unstable climate, increasingly depleted resources and an economic crisis look like?  Like medical palliative care, it would focus on relieving pain and improving quality of life – on enabling people to do well with much less, on investment in the commons and public resources available to those who no longer have access to private ones.  It would involve accepting that the areas most vulnerable to climate change might have to have massive population relocations – and beginning them now.  It would involve focusing on caring for people’s needs, and enabling them to live their lives as they will have to.  Making sure that we prioritize food, shelter and water, basic safety and the comfort and emotional needs of people in difficult situations may be less shiny and exciting than building a giant dome to block out the sun or whatever, but it is more necessary.

This need not be in conflict with the project of trying to fix some of our most pressing projects – in fact, there’s a compelling case that in a world with too much to do and not enough resources, that the most important acts are the ones that provide both curative and palliative measures – for example moving people rapidly to a lower level of consumption of resources both reduces emissions and helps people get ready for their new lifestyle.  But both prongs are essential.

Sharon

Whither Peak Oil?

Sharon October 5th, 2009

There’s a fascinating essay by Nate Hagens over at The Oil Drum about the future of peak oil analysis and the future of The Oil Drum.  In it, Hagens argues that an oil peak will almost certainly turn out to be past us, given the lack of incentive for further investment (this is, of course, the same analysis as the IEA’s recent case), and that perhaps our preoccupation with it as a defining factor is a mistake:

“I would hypothesize that each of us participating in the online muckraking/analysis sphere spends time on their websites of choice for some of the following reasons: 1)to increase our own social capital (through either social recognition or through an increase in our own understanding of a complex situation which will then in turn improve ours and our families future), 2) because we are puzzle solvers (meaning it’s fun/meaningful to figure all this out, 3) because we want to make a difference to steer society away from making poor long term choices, and 4) being right. I would guess that all of TOD staff and most who hang out have done so for some combination of the above. My fear is that we, the analysts, are neither advocates, nor doers, generally speaking, which means we put stuff up continually in subtle hope that someone at a higher level will incorporate and implement it. To what end, we don’t know. My gut feel is that a plurality of TOD staff fall under the number 2) above, and that increases in social status and/or societal transformation due to our work are only externalities of our passion for puzzle solving. I suppose things could be worse…;-)

As usual, this essay represents my own musings, and is not reflective of the philosophy or objectives of anyone else on staff, but as one of the senior contributors to this site, I’ve begun to ask myself the purpose of a peak oil movement, in a post-peak environment where financial issues are likely to dominate for the forseeable future, objectives and beliefs about the future are increasingly disparate, and synthesis of information is only as good as ones understanding of the weakest link (ergo – there is TOO much information for most people if not everyone). Furthermore, our ability to plan and change for the long term diminishes in negative correlation with how badly real time events erode. As such, in my view the highest leverage lies in the integration and subsequent implementation of systems analysis. What is needed is a 2010 version of Limits to Growth that not only improves on the 1970s natural resource type model, but integrates two new layers: knowledge on human demand/neuroscience and the current status of our economic/financial system, into a holistic scientific project that can be used for serious and urgent global policy change. Perhaps a site like this could be a public forum to discuss and hone in on aspects of such a project. I don’t know. I must admit I’ve learned as much from the relatively uneducated on this site than from those with stellar resumes. In the end we’re all in this together.

Finally, I think ‘Peak Oil’ has eponymously outlived its usefulness. Too many now associate doom, gloom and fundamentalism when they hear those 2 words. Though doom and gloom may possibly be the end reality of Peak Oil, such an immediate emotive reaction can’t be productive among people of influence. As such, the energy community, and broader natural resource paradigm change movement probably needs to rebrand the whole discussion. Peak Oil is not only past, but it’s terminology is passe.”

This is rather fascinating to me, because several times in the last four years, I’ve suggested that an increasing irrelevance is the likely result of PO study groups and site’s focus on the quantitative analysis end of Peak Oil – it isn’t that that’s not valuable material, but focusing on the data, on the dates, on another 50 possible depletion scenarios isn’t really all that relevant.  In 2007 I wrote:

“Peak Oil is Real Soon Now” was pretty much the theme of last year’s Boston ASPO conference, and I admit, I see no real evidence that it won’t be repeated at every ASPO meeting, until we can officially change it over to “Peak Oil Was Just a While Back.” Looking over the list of panels, virtually all of them focus on one of three things.

The first is whether peak oil was Yesterday, is Tomorrow or next Thursday. Now this sounds like very important work, and is important if you have millions invested in oil wells, run India, or run Shell. To anyone else, it is largely a matter of complete and utter irrelevance. The reality is that real people are already experiencing the costs of peak oil – for example, it is the end of cheap oil that has led to the biofuels boom and to my grocery bill going haywire. This is only going to get worse – because of peak oil and climate change. But whether it gets worse slightly faster or slower really isn’t the point – the point is that we’re not doing anything about it. I’m willing to bet, however, that most of the Very Important People speaking at ASPO don’t actually buy their own groceries, so maybe they haven’t noticed….

….if ASPO has just one chance to pull people together to talk about peak oil, the date is far less urgent a subject than “where do we go from here?” It isn’t that there isn’t anything to talk about, it isn’t that people still aren’t debating peak oil. It is that the focus of the discussion has moved on from when to what to do, and ASPO hasn’t caught up.

This is not only bad for the public discourse, but IMHO, it isn’t very good for ASPO, either. Because they risk being rendered obsolete by their own data. ASPO has done the important work of establishing dates and reserves, but shortly, if their own estimates are right, when peak oil is will be an established, documentable fact – if it isn’t already. And while ASPO will then have the satisfaction of being right, it will also have the problem of being irrelevant, if it hasn’t taken a lead on the next step – where do we go from here?”

ASPO and the The Oil Drum are much the same – the speakers list tends to be taken heavily from TOD, the institutional elements are similar – and they have the same set of presumptions – that peak oil would be a defining and readily visible moment, in which their expertise would be needed, and that whatever changes would be made, ultimately, they would be driven by technical analysis.  Not everyone believed it, but the whole point of setting up a think tank, one that served mostly affluent elites, and that focused on articulating the problem, rather than moving on to the solutions, was this theory that if technical people just got it right enough everyone would listen.  Unfortunately, that would be a first.

And lo and behold, what’s pretty much happened is this – peak oil, instead of being the big, shiny thing that everyone can pin their future disaster concerns upon happened – and was buried in the financial mess – and is simply part and parcel of a larger collective crisis that includes our overextension financially, ecologically and biologically.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.  It doesn’t mean it isn’t actually a defining factor – I continue to think not only does peak oil matter a great deal (for example, almost all our mitigation strategies for our crisis assume we have plenty of energy to work with), but I think that the reason our world economic crisis wasn’t just a crisis of the developed world – the reason that it struck so deeply all over the world is because of the food crisis, which was itself an energy crisis.  The UN estimates that 60% of the rise in world food prices that gave us a great deal of political instability, more hungry people than ever before and helped grind the poor world economies to a halt came from biofuel growth – which boomed in response to rising energy prices, and was an attempt to compensate for rising oil consumption and declining ability to pump more.  I’ve written about this in more detail in my essay “Peeling the Onion”

What’s funny is that the people who got it right – the ones who described what would actually most likely occur, seem to have been not the technical specialists, but the non-technical analysts who presented the material to the general public.  Richard Heinberg warned everyone in pretty much every book he wrote that what we could expect would not be consistent price signals, but “extreme volatility” – prices rising and collapsing, with complex results playing out in the financial arena.  Jim Kunstler may have gotten a bunch of things wrong (still no Pirates in Seattle) in _The Long Emergency_, but his refusal to single peak oil out as a sole root cause was absolutely on target – it was just one of several urgent factors that are driving us forward.  In his analysis of how collapse proceeds, Dmitry Orlov observed that only rarely do we correctly articulate the causes of collapse – instead, it takes on a life of its own.

I’ve noticed that there is a tendency for people who come at this through the numbers and data to listen to those who offer big-picture analysis, to praise them for their analysis, but honestly, not to really, seriously believe what they say.  That is, I think there’s a tendency to assume that there will be time at least for their pet projects, that the most important part of our crisis won’t be the messy, fuzzy parts that are hard to analyze – the finances, the politics, the human reactions – but the tidy bits that can be neatly graphed.  And thus, there’s shock when it turns out that the system is messy.

Over the years, I’ve watched one trend that particularly disturbs me – the tendency of some (not all) technical analysts to emphasize the importance of peak oil over any other factor – there seemed to be a sense that they had to advocate for their crisis, over say, climate change or the financial mess or political instability.  This one, they would cry, defines everything.  And of course, when one is trying to get the media and funding sources to pay attention to harsh realities, that’s probably reasonable – but then the forest gets lost for the trees.  Pet solutions get the same treatment – the answer is wind!  No, the answer is X plan!  No, there’s no plan at all – we’re all totally, utterly doomed!

Don’t get me wrong, this does not characterize all the analysis that has come out of TOD or ASPO – there’s been some extremely good and clear material, some of which I’ve found very valuable – Jeffrey Brown’s Export Land Model, Gail the Actuary’s analyses, etc….  And I can’t overstate my debt to the people who put ASPO together to do the figures initially and raise awareness of a profound and real problem – there is no real doubt that peak oil either will or has happened.  All we have to do is look around at the history of US oil to prove that sooner or later (sooner, actually) we peak, and after that, there are serious constraints on supply.  World oil peaks may be controversial, but their reality is undeniable.

But as I said two years ago, the problem is not when exactly – we were never going to be able to raise the red flag on that day anyway.  The problem is what to do now – and what to do now has always been a complex question that had to fully take into account other factors – climate change, money, politics, and the fact that there has never yet been a revolution or radical change led by technical specialists ;-) .

Nate’s conclusion is that the tech folk simply aren’t suited to the next relevant steps – that the analysis seems to be what matters mostly to them.  I rather hope that that’s not the case – I’d hate to see those brilliant intellects go offline when there’s so much useful work to do. 

Now peak oil has always been a poor and inadequate terminology – one uses it because it is useful, because word’s are often poor and inadequate, but the reality was that oil was never a solo problem – sure, oil is nice and liquid, but given no other ecological problems, we could deal with an oil peak.  The problem was always that our other resources are stretched too, and that whether we hit the actual peak or not, we live in a world where resource use is so tight that there’s little leeway for rapidly repurposing one major fuel source to cover the loss of another.

But saying that “peak oil’s day is over” (which may or may not be true) doesn’t really help us any more than saying that peak oil is going to crash civilization.  Neither thing is accurate – instead, our collective crisis is upon us – we aren’t speculating about the future any more, we are talking about the present.  Whichever aspect is most urgent at the moment isn’t really the issue.  The issue is still, as it was two and three and five years ago – where do we go from here.  For that, we need to know the realities, we need a basic grounding in data.  But we also need to be able to think about politics and money, human emotion and human response – and we need to remember that the answers will not be neat or easy ones.

In _The Limits to Growth:The 30 Year Update_ we get, I think, a deeply coherent description of our present difficulty – one done by people with both technical skills and the ability to grasp the deep complexity of our situation, and in some small way, to describe and model it:

“The most common criticisms of the original World3 model were that it underestimated the power of technology and that it did not represent adequately the adaptive resilience of the free market.  It is true that we did not include in the original World3 model technological prgress at rates that would automatically solve all problems associated wtith exponential growth in the human ecological footprint….[But] in several scenarios we test accellerated technological advance and possible future technical leaps beyond these ‘normal’ improvements.  What if materials are almost entirely recycled?  What if land yield doubles again and yet again?  What if emissions are reduced at 4% per year over the coming century?

Even with such assumptions, the model world tends to overshoot its limits.  Even iwth teh most effective technologies and the greatest economic resilience that we believe is possible, if these are the only changes, the model tends to generate scenarios of collapse.” (TLTG:TTYU p. 204-5)

They go on to observe that in the end, what brings down the system is never a single factor – it isn’t oil, or money, or pollution or climate change.  It is this:

“….the more successfully society puts off its limits throughe conomic and technical adaptations, the more likely it is to run into several of them at the same time.  In most World3 runs, including many we have not shown here, the world system does not totally run out of land or food or resources or pollution absorption capability.  What it runs out of is the ability to cope.” (TLTG:TTYU 223)

It is, and has always been this problem of competing crisis, of the inability of systems (us) to deal with two many things hitting us at once that put us most deeply in danger – peak oil alone can be adapted to.  Climate change alone might be addressable.  Our precarious financial situation alone might have been soluble – but together they are beyond our capacity to address in terms of “solutions” as we mean them.  Focusing on energy to the exclusion of other issues – focusing on numbers instead of the moral and political, narrative and social elements has never been enough.

Now we all do what we can, and if that’s what TOD and ASPO can do, well, I’m grateful they did it.  But again, it is all hands on deck, folks – and I’m not convinced that just because people are happiest discussing the technical difficulties, they can’t also bear a good other chunk of the load – enough are doing so already that the future of the study of peak oil in its context – not in competition with our other problems, but in its intersections with them – and our response to it – could be extremely bright.

Sharon

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