by ashurbanipal » Fri 04 Nov 2005, 14:05:38
Lately, I've been hearing a lot from the optimist camp that conservation, if done correctly, will be enough to save us from the deleterious effects of Peak Oil. To someone who is new to the subject, or who has not paused to examine the situation, this may seem reasonable. Optimists point to how much driving Americans do compared to Europeans, for instance. It is argued that if Europe can do without all the driving, so can America. I read a recent argument that, if necessary, people could start living where they work during the week. They could prop a cot right up next to their desk and sleep there, rather than driving to and from work. Aside from the spectre of indentured servitude this raises, there are other fundamental reasons to object to it, consequences be damned.
The first thing that comes to mind is that offices everywhere will have to build showers and provide lockers, or deal with a bunch of really stinky (and eventually ill) workers. Most offices I've worked in use all their available space and sit on a slab foundation that isn't plumbed for a full bathroom. Some buildings can be modified, and a few already have executive showers. But most buildings will require a relatively significant investment of cash, and risk significant damage to the foundation, to install showers.
The next thing that comes to mind is how someone locked into sleeping at their office during the week will take care of their children? Someone will obviously have to be hired to do so, and to take the children to school. If the purpose of living at the office to begin with is because gas has become so expensive that there is no alternative, then when one realizes that the cost of day care is already very high, it's easy to question this solution. Nor could we go back to a family living on a single income. Mortgages and groceries are already too high, and the requisite capital isn't present in order to increase wages significantly. The only solution I see is that children would have to start sleeping at state-subsidized schools. Boarding schools have provided a model for this, but they have also always been quite expensive, and the money to operate them on a broad basis has to come from somewhere. At the end of the day, people need a certain minimum allotment of resources in order to live.
Here's where I sense the optimist will want to say "But hey! We've saved a lot of money on gas by living at the office! We can afford to do this now." And this is the crux of the conservation issue. For a while, we will have saved money, and for a while, we might be able to afford this solution. But eventually, this will no longer be possible. Prices will continue to tighten, and conservation will have to proceed apace. No matter what we do, we will eventually get to a point where conservation means not eating, not having shelter or clothing, etc.
The philosopher in me senses a far deeper issue at work here. Something about the labels "Optimist" and "Doomer" seems fundamentally wrong to me, or at least that's my intuition. What's bugging me is why it would be considered "optimistic" to look forward to a future where people sleep at their place of business while their children are miles away sleeping where they go to school? I don't know about anyone else, but if it suddenly became law or custom that people had to sleep where they work a certain number of days, my boss would demand people work from 6 AM to 9 PM, and use the increased productivity to fire a bunch of people. In his mind, it would be only fair since he is now providing housing. Is the doomer scenario of powerdown and living close to the land actually worse than this somehow? We'll return to this question in a moment.
Right now, I think it's important to get a clear grip on the history of wealth. We don't need to understand anything in great depth of detail. It's commonly acknowledged that the industrial revolution broadly altered economics. Throughout history prior to roughly 1850, wealth originated in land. The more land one had, the wealthier one was. The reverse correlation did not hold--it was possible, especially during and after the high middle ages, to be wealthy and own little land. But wealth ultimately came from land--the resources that made a person wealthy were grown on, dug out of, or otherwise related to, land. The goods that were traded all followed this pattern. It was possible for someone to purchase goods from a land owner and transport them to another market where a better price could be charged. But the merchandise itself came from land and total supplies in a given economy were inexorably tied to the amount of available land.
The industrial revolution changed this significantly. As hydrocarbon fuels provided previously undreamt-of levels of energy, the origin of wealth began to shift from land to a combination of land and coal, and thence to a combination of land and oil, with the ratio of oil to land increasing steadily as time passed. Wealth still required land, but it was not inexorably tied to it. Oil provided a means to increase the amount of food that a given unit of land could produce, first by increasing harvest efficiences, then by making it easier to clear land, and finally by providing fertilizers and pesticides. Crop yields are now 8 times what they were prior to 1850. Oil has had a similar widely acknowledged impact across all areas of the economy (and at least for a while it made sense to speak of one global economy). Mines are more productive thanks to the added muscle that oil provides. Quarries are more productive for the same reason. Long distance transportation has a greatly increased capacity; supertankers could hold a thousand galleons.
To me, the best way of thinking about this is to understand it as oil having created a bunch of "virtual" land. In so doing, it increased the available wealth via the same old relationship between land and wealth. In principle, the increased yields possible via a combination of fertilizers, pesticides, and machine harvesting is no different than if a bigger field had been plowed and more people hired to harvest it, all other things being equal.
But it is also widely acknowledged that oil is a finite resource. Land is merely bounded. The difference between the two is that land is palpable and readily apparent to everyone in a given locale. Additionally, while it may yield only so much grain this year, next year it should do the same. Oil is not palpable, and is not reuseable next year. Prior to the industrial revolution, people in a village knew how much land they had because they could see it, could walk over it, could measure it if they wished. Outputs year to year were constant, or perhaps improving slightly. Once oil made that land more productive, whether through increasing crop yields, mine yields, quarry yields, or something else, it added an intangible to the equation. They could not measure how much oil they would ultimately have or when or whether it would some day become unavailable. In the initial phases of industrialization, oil seemed more or less endless, and had anyone paused to reflect, it might have seemed that we'd have no problem creating as much virtual land as needed. This attitude, unconscious though it probably was, worked its way into public policy, and led to increased population. Why not? We seemed to have the (virtual) land to sustain them.
The lessons passed down from our ancestors were forgotten as they principally had to do with living in harmony with nature, rather than creating and using up more and more "land" to suit. It seems to me that once that disconnect happened, it was very easy to institute other disconnects as well. We disconnected from the land, we disconnected from our parents, and it became easy to disconnect from each other, from our children, and ultimately, ourselves. Once land became virtual and disposable, the elements of human life followed suit one by one.
It isn't my purpose to launch into full-blown social criticism here. Instead, I will ask a couple questions. Optimists seem to be motivated to argue that we will find a way to continue our current system more or less indefinitely. One founding principle of all optimistic arguments is that we must conserve resources to the end that we can transition our system of virtual land to the support of some other source of energy. As I hinted earlier, we're at the point now (or we soon will be) where conservation means a series of deeper and deeper disconnects. Disconnection from our families and children, from any kind of hobby, from our own humanity. Sleeping at the office was actually suggested by an optimist on JD's weblog. What should seem obvious from this long post is that the apparent underlying motivation of this suggestion is to maintain a failing system as long as possible. Should we seek to do so? Should we seek to stay alive at any cost?
"Doomers" are often called such because the scenarios they envision and argue as likely involve a massive die-off. Optimists want to eliminate such a possibility, but the question that presents itself is how it can be anything more than forestalled? We know that truly sustainable forms of energy cannot be scaled quickly enough at this point to do any good. And nothing is going to quickly replace the nitrogen fertilizers and pesticides necessary for current food production levels. We have not the land available any more to sustain ourselves; the human race grows as land shrinks. There's no question that we need to conserve as much as possible, but should we go to all lengths to preserve society as we know it? Should we be willing to engage in the evisceration of what makes us human in the name of optimism? Regardless of how much we conserve (and perhaps because of how much we conserve), a die-off is inevitable. It has, in fact, already begun. In the face of this, isn't it really madness to try to stay plugged into a system that imposes greater and greater levels of virtual reality on us? Isn't it madness to seek to enslave ourselves to a dying system? How can it be called optimistic to try to maintain a system that perpetuates such huge income gaps, environmental hazards, spiritual darkness, diminishing liberty, lack of reason, and sheer turmoil as the one we have now?
I believe the choice is not between life and death; that choice has been made for us. The choice is between cowardice and courage. Yes, conservation is important; but past a certain point, we have to get back to real land and real life, come what may. What may come will be terrible, of course. But it's coming anyway. Let's face it now, not leave it when we are a little older, or for our children.