F*ck we are collapsing faster than I thought!
Hi
let’s start with some housekeeping. I saw this video when it launched and it’s 2100% worth watching! It was also one reason to write this article.
I stumbled upon a startling revelation recently: Western societies, which are excessively developed, are spiralling into a deep crisis. This isn't just a temporary setback; it's shaping up to be a prolonged global calamity stretching out over years, maybe even decades. We're witnessing the twilight of a five-century-long period of economic expansion. This era began with colonialism, which led to the rampant exploitation of our planet's natural resources, minerals, and especially fossil fuels. Now, we're approaching what seems like the inevitable conclusion of this chapter in history. Predicting the exact manner and timeline of modern civilization's decline is tricky – it's nothing like the scenarios portrayed in Hollywood films. But one thing's certain: the reality is going to be starkly different and perhaps more alarming than any screenplay.
Lately, there's been a surge in post-apocalyptic movies, and they all seem to be stuck on repeat with their cliches. It's true, these themes serve a purpose - they make our story-loving brains cosy and stir deep empathy for the main characters. But, let's be clear, they're leading their viewers astray. Any expert in the study of societal collapse would confirm that these overused tropes not only render these films quite predictable but also make them a far cry from what real-world scenarios would look like.
It's time to correct some misconceptions about societal collapse. My top gripe is the belief that collapse occurs suddenly, simultaneously everywhere. People think that one day everything is normal, and the next, the world is in shambles. This idea suggests buildings crumble in days, streets become littered with wrecked and deserted cars, and survivors are few and far between. In this scenario, the signs of collapse are glaringly obvious.
In these stories, the collapse is always traced back to a mysterious event, causing a shockingly high death toll in just a week. As the plot unravels, we learn that the downfall of civilization is pinned on a small group of wrongdoers, a virus, or a natural disaster. The idea of billions living unsustainably for centuries is rarely mentioned. And if it is, it's quickly dismissed by an unlikable character who shifts the focus back to battling evil forces – be they conspirators, aliens, zombies, or the virus. The rallying cry is always the same: 'We have a mission! We need to save the world!
At this juncture, the plot reveals that only the protagonist, a uniquely gifted individual let , possesses what's needed for humanity's survival. The narrative then introduces a distant utopia where this crucial element must be taken, often at great sacrifice. In this haven, experts are believed to have safeguarded science and civilization. They're just missing that one special piece of knowledge, ingredient, or person/idea [Musk, Gates, e/acc…] to reverse the collapse and restart society. This mythical place serves a crucial narrative purpose: it perpetuates the belief that experts can fix anything, suggesting that our current lifestyle can persist forever, no matter the crisis.
Surely, someone out there will come up with a solution.
On their mission, the hero(es) quickly realize they can't trust anyone they meet. It's all about suspicion – 'What if they're after our stuff? Our freedom?' In this world turned upside down, yesterday's neighbours are today's threats, and there's no guilt in using force for survival. The world has morphed into a treacherous place, with dangers lurking at every turn. And even when they come across folks who've prepared well, holed up in their secure homes with enough supplies to last years, these people are often just as reluctant to help. It's a stark 'every person for themselves' reality.
Due to endless repetitions in movies, books, and so on, these cliches have almost turned into unquestioned truths. People just accept them without a second thought. Consequently, even the term ‘collapse’ has taken on a nightmarish quality, conjuring up visions of ruins, extreme peril, and widespread loss of life. It's become a taboo topic, something no one wants to even discuss, much less experience.
This is exactly why the idea of collapse is so fiercely denied, particularly by the affluent and those in management positions. Bombarded with all this 'collapse porn,' they're scared stiff at the thought of losing their comfortable, high-paying jobs, lavish McMansions, and various privileges. So, their preferred choice is to simply deny the entire concept.
When we switch our focus to real-world problems and challenges – actual reality – I believe the truth is far removed from these fictional narratives. Unless we're talking about a catastrophic event like a colossal meteor strike or nuclear warfare causing extended winters and total destruction of the ozone layer, the nature of collapse is entirely different. It won't be an instantaneous, worldwide event causing billions of deaths in just weeks. Sure, we can imagine extreme scenarios like a total shutdown of the electric grid, paralyzing our essential life-support systems or widespread crop failures leading to global starvation.
Indeed, multiple systems might fail at once, but for a total breakdown, several things need to fail simultaneously. It's also crucial to remember that thousands are tirelessly working to a) prevent such collapses and b) restore normalcy swiftly. Trust me, nobody is just idly watching these situations play out. A prime example is the almost complete breakdown of Pakistan's electric grid – a situation where a lot went wrong, yet it was rectified within days. So, while disaster could strike any region at any time, I believe the likelihood of such an event going global is relatively low.
So why is collapse unavoidable? Aren't we, as the most intelligent species, capable of solving any problem? While we are indeed resourceful, particularly in boosting profits, we've made the short-sighted mistake of prioritizing immediate benefits over long-term sustainability. We've overreached, ignoring clear signs that this approach was bound to fail. Sure, we'll keep finding ways to sustain our energy and material consumption – until, inevitably, we can't. Technology will assist to an extent, but it can't reverse the diminishing quality of ores and energy sources, and it comes with its own set of costs.
Actually, we're speeding toward a point where our efforts yield less and less, hitting hard geophysical limits. Soon, no matter how hard we try to solve the depletion of minerals or fossil fuels, the costs will skyrocket, dwarfing any benefits we aim to achieve. These dilemmas begin slowly and hesitantly, oscillating between normalcy and crisis. Eventually, they reach a tipping point, spiralling into a continuous stream of crises spanning decades. If you feel the world is losing its mind and about to get even crazier, you're not wrong. You're seeing the collapse of modernity in real time. (But if you're thinking, 'No, this can't be right,' then maybe it's time to reevaluate your information sources.)
Civilizations, much like oil fields, don't abruptly collapse but instead experience a gradual decline, marked by ups and downs over the course of years or even decades.
The journey towards decline is uneven and full of bumps, leading us back to a genuinely sustainable lifestyle. The more we delay this inevitable decline, and the bigger the gap between our sustainable limits and our current excesses (also known as overshoot), the harsher the fall will be. Though there will be moments of severe 'crash and burn,' collapse isn’t a relentless downward trajectory. It’s punctuated by periods of relief, sometimes even brief spurts of growth, before plunging into another significant downturn. All the while, the system tries to readjust and reboot. Think of all those experts working tirelessly to salvage whatever they can.
However, even experts have their limits. They might work wonders, but often they're just tweaking at the margins, responding to crises as they come. As the number of emergencies requiring simultaneous attention increases, and as wait times for spare parts extend – or worse, if shortages occur – many systems will end up in a chronic state of disrepair. This includes roads, tunnels, bridges, dams, water pipes, and the electric grid.
A structure without a solid foundation is bound to collapse, no matter how meticulously the superficial elements are maintained. The foundations of our civilization are eroding quickly: a healthy biosphere and stable climate, abundant natural and mineral resources, a robust economy, and functional infrastructure. These are the real reasons we're in a perpetual state of crisis, not due to malevolent conspiracies.
Our civilization resembles an old couch surfer, inching closer to the end, surviving one heart attack after another, kept alive by doctors' interventions time and again.
We're already crossing a critical threshold in the extraction and distribution of petroleum. This highly polluting substance underpins everything from mining to agriculture, long-distance transport, and even the construction of 'renewables.' While oil production might increase slightly in the next year or two, the net energy we derive from petroleum is reaching its peak. Beyond this point, energy cannibalism will consume an ever-increasing portion of our oil production, leading to a steady drop in net energy output. And this isn't just about oil – other minerals and energy sources are on the same trajectory, hindering any further expansion of human endeavours. We're on the brink of a global game of musical chairs.
As a result, 'business as usual' will soon become unfeasible. The halt in global economic growth will throw existing financial systems, which rely on continual expansion, into disarray. Expect a brief phase of money printing, followed by a major debt crisis and another round of inflation. Many manufacturing companies, especially those in the energy and material-heavy sectors like electrification, will face bankruptcy due to soaring energy and transportation costs, shortages of raw materials and equipment, and collapsing profitability.
Yet the world will not end.
Life will undoubtedly become tougher in the long emergency we're facing, spanning years, perhaps decades. With fuel and fertilizer costs soaring, coupled with droughts and heat waves, maintaining agricultural output will be increasingly difficult, not to mention the skyrocketing costs of food production. Europe is already witnessing a wave of largely unreported farmer protests, spurred by these exact issues. Farmers are struggling to find a way forward amid rising energy expenses (especially diesel) and the reduction of subsidies. Will this lead to widespread starvation or food riots? Probably not. But more centralization and a decline in food quality? Absolutely. Small farms are likely to be snapped up by larger agricultural corporations, who will then wield more influence and gain better access to government funds. This means higher food prices for the general public and increased profits for the wealthy.
However, centralization won't solve fuel and resource shortages; it will only deepen inequality. Several years down this path, food rationing and long lines for basic necessities may become common again. If you're not in the top 0.1%, forget about overseas vacations, new computers, or even a simple toaster. Expect intermittent electricity supply and rolling blackouts as standard responses to generation and maintenance shortfalls. Even healthcare services and medications could become inaccessible to most, leading to a decrease in life expectancy and an uptick in mortality rates across various age groups – except, of course, for the wealthy with access to private healthcare.
Facing a deteriorating economic situation, an ageing population, resource shortages, and conflicts, coupled with declining birth rates due to the high cost of living and chemical-induced infertility, as well as increasing wars, infectious diseases, and 'deaths of despair', it's feasible that the world population could decrease by 2–5% annually. At this rate, our numbers could halve every 20-30 years, potentially bringing the global population below a billion by the century's end. This scenario doesn't require new viruses, widespread famine, or global conflicts – just the gradual decline of civilization and a corresponding increase in excess mortality.
Contrary to cinematic portrayals, collapse won’t look the same everywhere or happen simultaneously. It won’t cause mass casualties in a week, but by the end of this century, it could significantly reduce our numbers. This decline is a natural outcome of billions living far beyond their local and the planet’s overall capacity for centuries.
Overshoot, resource depletion, pollution, and the climate crisis are the realities that post-apocalyptic movies often conveniently ignore. While it's true we can’t halt these processes – as any attempts would further deplete resources and accelerate ecological collapse – we can approach them more humanely. It’s not inevitable for Big Agriculture to monopolize farmland, nor is it necessary to wage a global war over dwindling resources. Additionally, retreating to a shelter isn't a feasible long-term solution to collapse, as it will last far longer than any stockpiled resources. Collaboration with neighbours will be key. Having emergency food and water is wise, but a trusted network of friends and family is invaluable.
Don’t hold out hope that someone will miraculously find a solution. Once collapse starts, it's a one-way street. And, it's already in progress. Increasing complexity, like developing sophisticated technology that demands more electricity and mining, requires exponentially more energy, leading to 'energy cannibalization.' Extracting more oil or building increasingly complex 'renewable' technologies, especially as mineral reserves dwindle, will soon consume more energy than it returns to society. This situation will only worsen with increased technology use. The core issue is the unsustainability of technology itself, not just the reliance on fossil fuels.
When net energy reaches its peak and begins to decline, it will signal a continuous economic downturn. Complex entities like corporations, governments, or the global economy are built for growth and struggle with contraction. Government and corporate officials will strive to hold the system together, but it’s a battle they’re likely to lose. This is the inherent fragility of large systems: instead of willingly shedding functions and simplifying to save energy, they do the exact opposite. They centralize power further, allowing the elite to drain whatever wealth remains, while the lower ranks desperately try to maintain stability. But eventually, physical realities prevail, and the system collapses.
This is when people – including you and me, dear reader – will need to depend more on local communities, personal skills, small-scale farming, and significantly simplified governance. Don’t expect a televised announcement declaring the arrival of collapse, giving you the all-clear. These changes will happen gradually, in parallel. When our centralized systems finally fail, they’ll leave a void behind. What fills that void, though, will be determined by us – or at least, that’s what I hope.
Until next time,
Malte
PS: Two weeks ago I introduced our Material Venture Fund, which we will officially launch in Summer 2024.