Thoughts on Solitude, Connection, and Meaning Post-Collapse

A couple of years back, when I contemplated integrating inspirational quotes into the communication strategy of the Waking Youth podcast, one of the excerpts I curated and prepared for our Instagram profile was the following:

“We did not ask for this room or this music; we were invited in. Therefore, because the dark surrounds us, let us turn our faces toward the light. Let us endure hardship to be grateful for plenty… We did not ask for this room or this music. But because we are here, let us dance.” - Stephen King

Maybe, had I opted to pursue such a strategy, this project would have garnered greater popularity by now. Maybe not. Instead, I decided to create this Substack and dedicate less of my hours collecting the words of others, and more time struggling to craft and share my own with the petite yet much-appreciated and thoughtful audience that you are. Yes, you.

Anyway, I’m not here to discuss communication strategies today, nor my reluctance toward mainstream social media, although I intend to do so soon enough. What I want to tell you is that I’ve been thinking about the quote above, and a variation of it once shared by a friend. In my friend’s version, life was compared not to a room but to a party. Building on King’s quote, he envisioned something like this:

“We did not ask for this party or this music, but because we are here, let us dance.”

I suppose I’ve been pondering this quote for a variety of reasons. One is that, as an introvert, I have never loved parties too much. They often leave me feeling drained. Fortunately, much like in life, I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no need to force myself to enjoy them as more extroverted individuals might—dancing and speaking loudly at its epicenter. I’ve granted myself permission to retreat in a cozy corner in the margins with a fellow deep thinker to ramble about everything and anything. Perhaps Substack is such a virtual place for many of us.

Another reason is that, as a young adult, I sense that this party I’m arriving at—the party of modern civilization as we know it—is drawing to a close. And not only is it ending, it is more and more morphing into an apocalyptic and rather somber after-party. The drugs that fueled its ecstasy are running scarce, but folks keep dancing and raving, licking leftovers, even fighting for them—killing for them—, hoping desperately the party will go on forever.

Of course, I feel left out. Folks are clinging so tightly to this fading party that, even as introvert, I can’t help but wonder what all the stubbornness is about. Yet, for the most part, I struggle to understand why we aren’t just calling it a night and planning for a better one tomorrow. Or better yet, planning for an on-going celebration that isn’t dependent on the massive consumption of substances that wreck both us and everything around us. Yes, I’m mostly thinking about fossil fuels now, and so much more.

I stumbled upon this idea—that the ‘party’ of our modern civilization is already collapsing—in Jem Bendell’s book Breaking Together: A Freedom Loving Response to Collapse (which you can access online for free here). If you aren’t familiar with Bendell, he’s a first-world professor turned third-world farmer. Those are his words, not mine, by the way. For over twenty years, he worked as a professor of Sustainability Leadership at the University of Cumbria, as well was as a consultant and strategist in sustainable business, finance, and communication for clients ranging from UN agencies to international NGOs and the British government. In 2017, following a sabbatical dedicated to studying the latest climate science, he released the Deep Adaptation paper which went viral and is credited with inspiring the growth of the Extinction Rebellion movement.

Put as shortly as possible, in Breaking Together Bendell argues that not only will our modern civilization soon collapse, it has already begun to do so, and the sooner we accept that, the better. Why is our civilization already collapsing? Well, just as a bicycle needs momentum to stay upright, he writes in the introduction, so too our societies are dependent on the continuous growth of the mass consumption of products and services for the stability of our economy. The problem is that for that growth to take place, more and more of our already scarce natural resources have to be exploited, and more emissions have to be released into our atmosphere, further warming global temperatures. No, we haven’t figured out how to significantly decouple economic growth from resource use and increasing emissions yet, and there’s little evidence that we’ll be able to do so.

Moreover, several indicators of people’s quality of life around the world, from health to earnings, education and life expectancy have been in decline since 2016. The renowned UN’s Sustainable Development Goals, co-negotiated by our most recent guest Tatjana von Steiger as a Swiss representative, show no sign of success, with only 15% of them on track, and many regressing. Yup, party pooper!

To be frank with you, part of me is relieved this party is ending. The brief taste I had of it so far, hasn’t fulfilled me all that much. Growing up in a bubble of ridiculous material privilege compared to the rest of the world, I often felt alienated. I tried to be interested in the things folks implied we should be interested in: chasing after svelte physiques and trendy clothes, handsome popular boyfriends with flashy cars, lavish vacations abroad, and fancy corporate careers. Inside, however, all I cared about and longed for was the non-physical, the existential: love, genuine connection, liminal ideas, freedom, meaning, transcendence. Perhaps I’d feel differently had I come from an alternative background.

And although I’ve felt much more at home in the world since then, having made the sort of friendships that feel like family, with beautiful progressive humans from all over the globe who share many of the same ideals as me, recently, I had—am having—a similar experience of disconnection. I feel frustration and rage, despair even, towards the lack of discourse and meaningful action among mainstream public spheres—from our media to our policymakers and businesses—regarding these issues.

The height of my disconnection, however, occurred a couple of weeks ago during a gathering at some hipster brunch spot with some friends. Amidst avocado toasts and specialty coffees, I shared with them some of the contents of the book I mentioned earlier, Breaking Together. At first, they listened attentively and even posed a question or two. And then, suddenly, almost synchronously, as I went about my ramble on meaning post-civilization collapse, they all escaped to their phones. Perhaps because the prospect of a life outside the paradigm that still runs most of our lives was too discomforting. Perhaps because they received an important message, I don’t know. What I do know, is that day I felt sad, alone in my grieving. Why aren’t we talking about this stuff more?

My intention is not to judge anyone here, especially not those I hold dear. If only because I often observe the same cognitive dissonance in myself, when one moment I’m studying weighty tomes like Breaking Together, and the next I’m flying to Amsterdam to meet friends at hipster brunch spots, or turning on the heater instead of reaching for a sweater. Of course, we fool ourselves: it’s exhausting to care so much all the time!

Following this incident, I had a chat with one of them, who works in corporate sustainability, and asked them bluntly: “Aren’t you worried? Do you realize how dire things are, and how they're just going to keep deteriorating?” Their reply went something along the lines of: “Yes, I know that it’s pretty bad. But honestly, I don’t know what else I can do to make a difference, and dwelling on it incessantly seems pointless. So, I just try to enjoy my life as it is.”

It’s a good question: What can we do about it? I believe Bendell is onto something. Often branded as a ‘doomster’ by mainstream media, he has reclaimed this label for those willing to confront the collapse of our civilization already underway, to then embrace a new way of living altogether. A ‘post-hipster’ lifestyle, he contemplates, where instead of indulging in ever-more-expensive smashed avo toasts at cafés, we grow our own avocados and strive for the freedom of all beings from the structures and mental models that have desacralized life on our wondrous planet. I leave you here his own articulation of what it means to be a doomster:

“Although many people are breaking apart into self-righteous factions, many people have been breaking together, whereby they allow the upsetting situation to break down their old habits, so that they become more open-hearted and open-minded in how they live their life, including the way they relate to other people. As a result, they are dramatically changing their lives to prioritise creativity and social contribution. They are worrying less about their career, their financial security or following the latest trend. They are helping those in need, growing food, making music, campaigning for change and exploring spiritual paths. That is happening because they have rejected the establishment's view of reality and no longer expect its officers to solve any of the worsening problems in their society. After decades of greed, hypocrisy, lies, corruption and stupid policies, they are no longer waiting for any elites to rescue the planet. As they let go of false hopes that they will be saved, they can move through grief and begin living creatively again, with an awareness of how every day is a blessing. This doesn’t mean they don’t grieve, worry or feel sad and angry, but that their feelings of wonder and gratitude about life don’t immediately trigger those other difficult emotions or keep them stuck there. Instead, they are living life more fully, according to what they value. It is precisely because these people regard modern societies to be breaking down that they are living more freely. They need neither an underground bunker nor a fairy tale of a better tomorrow as they live, today, for truth, love and beauty. Who are they? I call them doomsters. I am one of them. Perhaps you are, too?” - Jem Bendell, Breaking Together

There’s plenty more I’d like to share about this wisely apocalyptic book, but I’ll wrap up here for today. Perhaps some of you have already surrendered to endless scrolling on your phones. If not, I’d love for you to drop a comment and share your thoughts. Do you believe our civilization's party is already coming to a close? Are you relieved by its end? What sort of post-collapse future animates or alarms you? Would you consider yourself a doomster?

Warmly,
Carlota

P.S. I’m aware that even contemplating the notion of civilizational collapse is a privilege. Many folks in less fortunate geographies are already living through the end of their world in heart-shattering ways. Others have bills to pay and are stuck in jobs they find meaningless, unable to afford quitting for now. If you find yourself in the latter category, Bendell wrote a helpful piece on navigating life as a doomster in such circumstances.

---

Listen

Our most recent interview was with Tatjana von Steiger, a former diplomat who represented Switzerland in the negotiations of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs).

It’s fascinating, to me, to put this interview in conversation with Jem Bendell’s book, Breaking Together. Recognized as a Young Global Leader by the World Economic Forum, after multiple visits to Davos, Bendell is now skeptical of such high-level bubbles. He claims that many in influential positions perpetuate vague hope, shielding people from the harsh reality of our worsening situation.

During our chat, Tatjana did touch on the term - hope. Perhaps her actions speak louder than her vocal cords, as she’s now on the ground, with fellow changemakers in Kenya and other labs of the foundation she works for, Wyss Academy for Nature, supporting communities directly addressing climate change.

Listen on:
Spotify | Apple