Today’s Contemplation: Collapse Cometh CCLII–Peak Oil and the Architecture of Collapse, Part 1

The Forgotten Foundation
My most recent Contemplations have discussed the foundational bases of modernity’s predicament: ecological overshoot, physical limits to growth, the maximum power principle, the mind over reality transition, progress traps, and wetiko. I’ve risked minimising what is perhaps one of our most crucial material aspects in this telling. I’ve discussed hydrocarbons within these Contemplations as an important aspect but have perhaps not paid them their full due, given they’ve been treated more or less as simply one variable among several. The reality, I would argue, is that virtually all of the important variables for modernity have been constructed upon our hydrocarbon foundation.

This two-part Contemplation is my correction to that recent omission with a focus of my lens upon hydrocarbons’ role and more specifically the consequences of peak oil for modernity. And note, the following analysis does not attempt to address the current conflicts taking place in the Middle East and Europe–though it is worth acknowledging that these conflicts are impacting energy markets, supply chains, and geopolitical stability, and could accelerate certain consequences of peak oil.

I’ve argued in much earlier Contemplations that oil is our master resource. Here I want to take that assertion a step further. Here I want to argue that modernity is hydrocarbons; it is hydrocarbons metabolised and transformed. Remove hydrocarbons, and virtually every modern complexity would fail in a relatively short time.

Most are blind to the importance of hydrocarbons in supporting our complexities. Many don’t see or acknowledge that the fabric of modernity is woven from the threads of hydrocarbons–and quite literally, in the case of much of our clothing with their synthetic, petroleum-based fibres. Reflecting the common view held by society, groups critical of hydrocarbon extraction and combustion–such as Just Stop Oil, whose name itself demonstrates their focus–tend to frame the issue as one of excess, or inequitable distribution, or the choice of our technologies.

Even where people recognise this dependence, they underestimate the irreplaceability of hydrocarbons at scale–confusing the possibility of a managed transition with the physical reality that no such replacement exists at scale or could be deployed in the timeframes available. Those that condemn this fundamental resource without acknowledging this irreplaceability, are essentially condemning modernity and the complex societies that are based upon hydrocarbons. This thought, however, is rarely articulated explicitly, and even more rarely engaged with on its merits for it is too disturbing for most to consider.

But perhaps even more important to realise is that, if the extraction and use of hydrocarbons were to cease tomorrow, all of the modern complexities that the overwhelming majority of 8+ billion humans rely upon would also cease in short order. There are no at-scale replacements for hydrocarbons–at least none have been shown to operate at a global scale and within the timeframes available. And certainly none have been shown that avoid their own significant energy, material, and environmental constraints. This is not a claim about absolute physical impossibility but an assessment based upon current technological capabilities, resource availability, infrastructure lock-in, and systemic momentum. The burden of proof for non-hydrocarbon “fixes” rests with those who cheerlead them, and as of yet no such convincing proof has been provided.

When I speak of peak oil, however, I almost invariably encounter the same patterns of response that I encounter when raising other uncomfortable stories–particularly that of ecological overshoot and societal collapse. The same rationalisations and technological salvation narratives are commonly deployed in attempts to frame the problem as solvable within existing paradigms–this is standard fare for virtually all in their attempts to reduce their cognitive dissonance and avoid the anxiety-provoking thoughts that arise. Basically, the prevailing discourse refuses to look squarely at the consequences of humanity’s dependence upon a one-time cache of stored energy that are fast approaching; in fact, have arrived in various ways.

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What Peak Oil Actually Means
The term “peak oil” has been twisted in recent years, so let’s clear that up first. With the help of those who wish to champion a transition off of this finite resource, the term has come to be referred to as one of “demand” as opposed to “supply”. In this framing peak oil refers to peak demand and a purposeful and managed decline in our need for petroleum as we smoothly “transition” to non-renewable, renewable-energy harvesting technologies and other supposed “clean” energy technologies. To put it charitably, this is a profound misunderstanding.

Peak oil is about geology and the finite nature of the resource; it is not about demand.

Marion King Hubbert first articulated the concept in 1956, when he correctly predicted that U.S. oil production would peak around 1970, subsequently entering a terminal decline. Essentially, Hubbert projected that oil in any region follows a bell-shaped curve: as the resource is first discovered and extracted, production rises to a point where about half the recoverable oil has been removed, after which its production begins to decline irreversibly and the resource becomes increasingly expensive and difficult to extract.

Over the years, however, what constitutes “oil” has expanded greatly; the word has become a catch-all for a variety of hydrocarbon liquids and is very different from the cheap-to-retrieve and easy-to-access “conventional” crude form Hubbert was referring to in his argument. “Oil” now also includes bitumen from tar sands, tight oil from shale formations, natural gas liquids, and synthetic crude from coal liquefaction; it is a very different form of the resource than the light, sweet, and easily flowing type that was first exploited and upon which Hubbert’s thesis is based.

Perhaps more importantly, each of these various types of hydrocarbon liquids possesses very different energy return on investment (EROI; much more on this below) as well as environmental impacts. So, mixing them altogether and using their growth in production to proclaim “we have more oil than ever” is misleading in the extreme; it is conflating apples with oranges while throwing in a few watermelons and bananas to boot. Changing what is counted is a standard statistical manipulation when you don’t like what the data show, and this is what has happened to oil.

Moreover, this expansion of what is considered oil has allowed the entire idea of peak oil to be dismissed as a conspiracy theory, as a prediction that has been and continues to be proven wrong, or a Malthusian relic. What the narratives of “we keep finding more” and “the peak always seems to be around the corner but never arrives” ignore, however, is that the peak of the easy-to-access, cheap-to-retrieve, and high EROI conventional crude arrived around 2005–2008. The “oil” that has been added to the world’s production since that peak has been increasingly from harder-to-access, more expensive-to-retrieve, and lower EROI unconventional sources.

The actual dates of such peaks continue to be debated, primarily because there continues to be disagreement over definitional parameters. Regardless, the trend is unmistakable: the easy stuff is no more and what remains is more difficult, expensive, and less energetically profitable.

And I can’t stress enough that peak oil is not about running out of oil, for we never will; the last of the resource will simply become too energetically expensive to extract long before we exhaust its production. The timing of that extraction ceasing, however, is not fixed; it depends greatly on what we extract, how we use what is extracted, and how quickly we extract it. We can’t reverse the fundamental trend but we can make some choices about whether or not we extend the usefulness of remaining reserves or accelerate their depletion–at the moment, it appears we are choosing the latter.

It is the rate of extraction, the consequences of that rate dropping, and the falling of EROI that are far more meaningful to the concept of peak oil. When the rate of extraction and production can no longer increase alongside a continuing drop in EROI, peak oil is in the rearview mirror. The peak of conventional, high-EROI oil was clearly reached some years ago, and we are feeling the consequences in a variety of ways with each passing day. Whether we have reached the peak of all liquid hydrocarbons continues to be debated, but the data suggest production rates have not only plateaued but that the average EROI has been declining.

Economic Growth and Oil
Our global economy is predicated upon growth. Most economists would argue it is the growth of population and consumption that drives our economies. But from an energetic point of view, it is the rate of energy extraction that is the real driver. More energy is used each year in order to service our debts, finance our pensions, justify investments, and maintain the social contracts that hold our fragile societies together. A perpetual increase in energy throughput–primarily via oil–is required for an economic system reliant upon perpetual growth. I’ve previously discussed the Maximum Power Principle and how our economies are energy systems organised for maximum power intake and energy transformation. Remove the foundation of continuously increasing energy extraction and the superstructures of financial markets, pension obligations, and debt instruments built upon it will collapse.

Economic growth has been made possible by this master resource of oil. Its energy density, transportability, and versatility make it unique. We use it for transportation, agriculture, pharmaceuticals, plastics, construction, and virtually every manufactured good across the planet.

We don’t really need to get into the weeds of the bastardised definitions and measurements of the narratives that proclaim endless energy growth is “sustainable”, especially of oil. The essential points are: the numbers are huge, the trends are clear, and physical reality is unforgiving–but not unnavigable. Arguments over precision, timing, rates, and implications for this or that sector are interesting from an “academic” perspective, but what is far more important is the underlying reality: the ever-increasing rate of extraction of a finite resource peaks and then declines. The pattern is the message while the details are the distraction–but how we respond to that pattern may well determine the shape of our simplification.

Note that our collective responses–whether accelerating conflict, pursuing efficiency, or building local resilience–could determine the shape of the decline, even if they cannot reverse it. Although whether we actually have the agency to do this is another thing altogether.

Regardless, peak oil is fundamentally about the end of an era of increasing cheap and reliable energy. The rate of extraction of all types has plateaued, or soon will be–again, depending on categorical disagreements–and our desires or policies have zero impact upon the underlying geological trajectory (i.e., the timing, magnitude, and irreversibility of the decline). The removal of the fundamental driver of economic growth means that all we have built upon this resource (e.g., cities, long-distance supply chains, financial systems, expectations of growing prosperity) will be altered in ways we can hardly imagine–regardless of our preferences.

The Technological Salvation Narrative
It is at this juncture–quite predictably given the cultural and institutional commitments that underwrite modernity and human cognitive defence mechanisms–that the technological salvation narratives I have been documenting and analysing enter our thinking and storytelling.

I’ve written about the salvation stories told about alternative energy sources mostly but the tales also include the idea that if enough money is thrown at the issue of declining oil resources, new discoveries and extraction techniques can extend the hydrocarbon age indefinitely. The data regarding this storyline are stark: conventional oil field discoveries peaked in the 1960s; humanity is extracting oil at about four times the rate we are discovering it; and the giant fields that supply the lion’s share of our oil (e.g., Ghwar, Burgan, Cantarell) were discovered decades ago and are in decline. We have been for some time eating our seed corn and ignoring the consequences of our decisions and insatiable appetites.

One of the popular myths is that “unconventional oil will save us”; that shale oil, tar sands, and tight oil will fill the gap. This narrative is exceedingly problematic in that these hydrocarbons are more expensive, environmentally destructive, and energetically intensive. The EROI for them is much lower than for that of our originally exploited crude. Bitumen, for example, requires exceedingly high amounts of water and natural gas to process with a resulting product that is of low quality. Fracking decline rates of 60% or more in the first year of extraction for tight oil mean new drilling must proceed in an endless and quickening treadmill fashion simply to maintain production rates; with the later resources being extracted of much lower quality.

And, as I have documented in my We’re Saved! Contemplations, the narrative that “renewables and/or nuclear can replace oil so that we may transition smoothly without pause and maintain our modern lifestyles” is just as problematic; perhaps more so.

The scale of the “challenge” needs to be made clear here. As I point out above, oil is the primary input for thousands of products and systems. In some cases substitutes exist in theory but not in practice or at scale. What truly demonstrates the issue is our electricity generation–a topic that is focussed upon by renewables advocates, but who often confuse the possibility of replacing electricity generation with the much harder and arguably impossible task of replacing total energy use. Supporters are constantly trumpeting that renewables are increasingly providing the electrical needs of regions as opposed to hydrocarbons, but this is one of those distractions from the more fundamental issue.

This “renewables transition” view ignores the fact that humanity’s electricity generation only accounts for about 20% of total energy consumption, and that a significant portion of our electricity is generated by the burning of hydrocarbons–although this is being reduced in some regions, but not at a global scale that impacts our total hydrocarbon use. Close to 90% of our energy needs are provided by hydrocarbons for our transportation, food and industrial production, chemical feedstocks, and electricity generation. Replacing this at scale is, quite frankly, impossible.

Further, the energy density of liquid hydrocarbons used in aviation, shipping, and heavy transport cannot be replaced by current electrification technologies–though theoretical alternatives exist; each of these, however, faces its own infrastructure, EROI, and environmental challenges, and has yet to be proven at scale. Nor can these renewables replace the natural gas used to produce the nitrogen fertilisers needed for industrial-scale agriculture–organic and regenerative approaches exist but 8+ billion and their dietary expectations cannot be met through them, not without massive reductions in population size. The polymers that go into plastics and the bitumen that makes asphalt possible also have theoretical alternatives but, again, none exist at scale and carry their own devastating ecological impacts when scaled up to industrial size. And the list goes on…

Even if we were to generate all of our electricity “needs” (which continue to grow) via renewables today–an impossibility given intermittency issues and finite resource constraints–we would still have the “challenge” of replacing hydrocarbons for all of their other uses; including the industrial production of all the alternative energy technologies. The scale of attempting this is beyond staggering. The mining, processing, manufacturing, and installation of the infrastructure to “electrify everything” (as well as to replace all the oil-dependent hardware) would consume staggering amounts of hydrocarbon fuels. This fact is often if not always ignored by techno-optimists–or they maintain that a “closed loop” could eventually be achieved where renewables power the production of new renewables. While a theoretical possibility, such closed loops rest upon two unproven assumptions: that the initial hydrocarbon investment can be “paid back” within a reasonable timeframe, and that the material constraints can be avoided until such closed loops come into existence. Both of these are subject to significant doubt and have not been proven at scale. Such material constraints are often ignored, denied, and/or rationalised away.

And it goes beyond such limiting factors. Not only do the extraction and refinement of these materials and minerals result in massive ecological destruction and toxic waste streams (an additional and often ignored consequence), but require substantial energy inputs to be carried out. The move from hydrocarbons to these technologies, it is asserted, reduces or eliminates the extraction and combustion of hydrocarbon-based energy. But even if this were true–it’s not, by the way; except for small prototype examples that cannot be scaled up globally–all we would be doing is trading one set of extraction problems for another; or, as some have argued, rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

Let’s face the music for a moment regarding the ecological destruction and exacerbation of our ecological overshoot predicament that would occur to accomplish this transition. Mining alone would result in massive tracts of land being cleared, communities displaced, habitats destroyed, and the generation of significant toxic waste streams that would further overload planetary sinks and create issues for generations to come. The mining, processing, and manufacturing that would be required would result in massive greenhouse gas emissions because of all the hydrocarbons that would be extracted, produced, and burned–offsetting any supposed climate benefits.

Then there’s the undeniable fact that our hydrocarbon extraction and use continues to be exceedingly high alongside all the renewables that have been produced over the past few decades–there is only addition to our energy consumption and throughput happening; not replacement as the renewables cheerleaders assert. This is perhaps the most insidious and narrative-managed aspect of the energy “transition”. Renewables are not saving us; they are exacerbating our predicament by adding to total energy consumption and material throughput without reducing hydrocarbon use, thereby accelerating ecological overshoot rather than mitigating it.

The EROI Problem
To better understand our predicament, the concept of Energy Return on Investment (EROI) is crucial but, unfortunately, gets little discussion in mainstream discussions on energy. Simply, EROI is the ratio of the energy you get back from a resource relative to the energy that you must invest to extract the resource.

Conventional crude oil had a really high EROI in the early days of the extraction industry; perhaps 100:1 or more. This means for every barrel of oil energy invested in the extraction process, you would get about 100 barrels in return. The resulting surplus was of extraordinary measure, and one that enabled the creation and massive expansion of our global, industrial, and exceedingly complex societies. And we’ve taken this “gift” for granted; hugely for granted, and this has been accompanied by the creation of progress narratives that highlight human ingenuity and technological prowess over the leveraging of a one-time cache of finite hydrocarbons–this is a perfect example of how success stories tend to elude the underlying material conditions that made them possible; it is also an example of a societal-level self-serving attributional bias, where positive outcomes get attributed to personal traits but negative ones to external factors beyond one’s control.

Importantly, EROI has been on the decline for decades. The easy-to-access and cheap-to-extract, high-quality hydrocarbons have been mostly exhausted and we have had to turn to the more difficult, expensive, and lesser-quality reserves. Even today’s conventional crude carries with it an EROI of about 20:1, a significant drop from the 100:1 of early oil extraction. Then there’s tight oil with its 10:1 ratio (depending upon the region and extraction methods used), and tar sands with about 5:1. Once again, the specific numbers don’t matter as much as the inexorable trend downwards.

This falling EROI has massive implications for human societies and their insatiable energy consumption, material throughput, and multilayered complexities. First, and perhaps foremost, as this EROI falls we are forced to invest more and more of the energy extracted into the extraction process itself, resulting in the amount of energy surplus available to support our growth, complex institutions, and comforts in perpetual decline. For some, this means we become “poorer” in the only way that matters: we lose the energy available to support “non-essential” activities–the creature comforts associated with modernity.

Much of the foundational work on the concept of EROI has been performed by ecologist Charles Hall, and he has suggested that our complex, industrial societies require at minimum an EROI of 5:1 in order to support themselves. With this ratio, a substantial amount of the energy extracted must go back into the extraction process itself. At 3:1 the gears grind to a halt; and below this threshold the extraction process becomes a net loss–you are consuming more energy than you are extracting and producing.

I’ve used a range of figures to discuss this civilisational-maintenance topic in previous Contemplations, and this reflects the fact that different studies produce different estimates; even Hall himself published a variety of estimates arguing that the minimum EROI to support our societies depends greatly upon the level of complexity and specific infrastructure needs. Hall has suggested a minimum threshold of 5:1, while others have argued for a much higher one of 15:1 that includes support for a greater level of complexity.

Such thresholds are not fixed but depend greatly upon the efficiency of the society in question, its degree of complexity, and its ability to adapt. A deliberately simplified and efficient society would likely operate at a much lower threshold than those of modernity. Whether our energy-intensive and highly complex societies could simplify fast enough and absorb the transitional costs is questionable. Regardless, as with other “controversial” numbers discussed above, the details matter far less than the trend; and in this case the existence of a threshold and our approaching it is what matters.

Methodological differences explain the range. Some analysts calculate EROI exclusively at the oil wellhead–the energy returned from the process of extraction itself. The EROI required to build and maintain the local energy system and its infrastructure, transportation, and refining it into products that are usable is something vastly different. Then there are those that attempt to determine “civilisational-level” EROI where global infrastructure to support the system is included; the roads, pipelines, refineries, and shipping fleets. Each of these approaches produces vastly different EROI numbers, but they all tend to tell the same story: EROI is falling and this decline is picking up speed.

This trend, regardless of how it is calculated, demonstrates that the maintenance of our global, industrialised societies is becoming increasingly difficult, if not impossible. Whether the estimate to sustain our complexities is 5:1 or 15:1 matters far, far less than the direction of the trend. And while we haven’t fallen below a civilisational-maintenance threshold as of yet, we are heading in that direction–and with increasing speed. The Oil Drum blog that was online between 2005–2013 was filled with detailed explorations of this trend (its archives can be found here).

The implications seem relatively clear, although many are hesitant or unwilling to admit it: as EROI declines, the amount of energy available to support our societal complexities (e.g., governing institutions, education and healthcare systems, recreation and entertainment, etc.) falls with it. The conundrum is real: the energy available to maintain our complexity is declining alongside those complexities growing and requiring ever more energy inputs.

The Complexity Bottleneck
All this talk about complexity requires us to revisit Joseph Tainter’s insights about how and why complex societies collapse–or “simplification”, if you prefer. Collapse, he argued, occurs when the costs of complexity outweigh the benefits gained by it; basically, when the marginal returns on investment turn negative, the prospects of society collapsing begin to increase with its occurrence being merely a matter of time. I would suggest that this is precisely what is happening to our hydrocarbon-based, globalised industrial civilisation.

Every layer of our exceedingly complex civilisation requires energy inputs; and increasingly so as we continue to pursue growth and increased complexity. Our transportation networks, financial instruments, governing institutions, military apparatus, healthcare systems, bureaucratic structures, long-distance supply chains, digitisation, etc., etc., all require increasing energy inputs. And these systems are increasingly non-optional since they are tightly woven into the fabric of existence for virtually all 8+ billion humans.

This is making human existence increasingly vulnerable to disruptions to our energy systems; buffers (e.g., strategic petroleum reserves) can only last so long. While a localised and resilient community might be capable of withstanding an energy supply disruption through its reliance upon local resources and a reduction in consumption, the globalised and interdependent economy with its just-in-time supply chains and centralised production would not be; it is exceedingly fragile and susceptible to disruptions. A hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, a growing conflict in the Middle East, or a cyberattack upon a pipeline or refinery could cascade through the global systems with impacts that can only be imagined.

All of our complexities are founded upon ever-expanding energy sources and our continuing to pursue the infinite growth chalice adds to this–increasing our vulnerability with each passing day. Yet, even if we chose to simplify proactively, the underlying energy decline would continue unabated. As the EROI of our energy resources falls alongside the rate of extraction of all hydrocarbon types (i.e., conventional crude, unconventional oil, natural gas, coal), we will increasingly find it difficult if not impossible to maintain our complex systems. So it’s not just an oil issue, but an issue for the entire hydrocarbon complex.

For example, we’ve come to rely heavily upon natural gas for the fertiliser that feeds our industrial agriculture system, heating in cold regions, and electricity generation. And while coal is the dirtiest hydrocarbon, it is also the most abundant, so we continue to use huge amounts of it; but it also is experiencing falling EROI as the easy-to-access and cheap-to-retrieve seams have been exhausted. The decline in all hydrocarbons is leading to a synergistic impact that is greater than the sum of its parts, with each decline amplifying the others.

We need to pay particular attention to this synergy. Our financial system, for example, is predicated upon the assumption of ever-increasing growth and may be one of the first dominos to collapse under the strain. As our energy surplus diminishes, the ability to service our debts and fund our pension obligations is imperiled. These have been created with the assumption of ever-rising asset prices and future growth and contributions–assumptions that may be invalid in the not too distant future. The globe’s fiat currencies are backed by little more than assurances that the productive capacity of national economies will continue to expand, but as this capacity shrinks, we will find them increasingly debased; a phenomenon that has occurred throughout fiat currency history, when large, complex societies begin to encounter roadblocks to their continuing expansion. These financial superstructures of our societies are not separate from our energy systems but are founded upon them; and when a foundation cracks, the structure built upon it eventually collapses.

The lights are not going to simply go out one day; that’s not how societal simplification works, and that is not the prediction I am making here. What I am attempting to highlight is our need to recognise that the energy costs of maintaining our array of complexities is going to strain–and increasingly so–our ability to meet them; that we will experience a gradual–or perhaps not so gradual–simplification of the various layers of complexity that we have established over the past century or more. Some of these will be stripped away completely, others will be abandoned, and still others will be maintained but at a lower quality and reliability.

It will be more and more difficult for the various institutions we rely upon to function properly. The government will have increasingly less revenue to operate and provide services. Supply chains will also experience disruptions and become less reliable. Our already frayed trust in perpetual societal “progress” will continue to erode, with the hopes of many being dashed completely. Geopolitical–perhaps even national and regional–conflict over dwindling resources is sure to intensify; even beyond what we are currently experiencing. And it is likely that it will become increasingly apparent that societal decline is slowly occurring–although the root cause will likely remain well hidden behind various narratives pointing fingers elsewhere.

All of the above is the fundamental architecture of our predicament as viewed through a hydrocarbon lens. A finite resource has been leveraged to build an exceedingly complex global system, but that resource is increasingly becoming more “costly” to extract. The availability of our most vital resource in supporting our complexities is declining–not because we are running out of it but because we can no longer increase the rate of its extraction and the energy cost of that extraction is steadily increasing leaving less and less surplus. In the wake of this physical reality, we have constructed technological salvation narratives that rest upon unexamined assumptions about scale, substitutability, and timing–what could be referred to as magical thinking. And far from being a source of resilience against an uncertain universe, the complexity we have built has turned into a massive vulnerability–an ever-smaller bottleneck that is constraining our capacity to sustain our societies as our energy resources shrivel.

We are encountering a predicament without precedent through the “untimely” convergence of a declining EROI, complex system fragility, the end of growth, and a financial superstructure that are all built upon and dependent upon a finite energy resource that cannot be replaced at scale. This is not a single crisis but a cascade of interacting ones that are amplifying each other. And it’s not just an energy crisis, but a civilisational one that will test every assumption, institution, and aspect of modernity.

Part Two will turn from this foundational overview towards the possible consequences. I will look at the petro-agriculture trap, energy population dynamics, geopolitical instability, the fungibility fallacy, and the biophysical economics framework that rules out decoupling growth from energy and material throughput. Finally, I will explore whether we will choose to simplify of our own accord or simply bear witness to the coming decline.

If you have made it to the end of this Contemplation, I have an offer for you. Send me an email at olduvaitrilogy@gmail.com requesting a copy of Part 1 of my trilogy and I’ll fire off a PDF of it to you for your “fictional” reading pleasure. If you like the beginning of the tale, please consider ordering the trilogy here: Purchase Book(s) — Olduvai.ca.

What is going to be my standard WARNING/ADVICE going forward and that I have reiterated in various ways before this:

Only time will tell how this all unfolds but there’s nothing wrong with preparing for the worst by ‘collapsing now to avoid the rush’ and pursuing self-sufficiency. By this I mean removing as many dependencies on the Matrix as is possible and making do, locally. And if one can do this without negative impacts upon our fragile ecosystems or do so while creating more resilient ecosystems, all the better.

Building community (maybe even just household) resilience to as high a level as possible seems prudent given the uncertainties of an unpredictable future. There’s no guarantee it will ensure ‘recovery’ after a significant societal stressor/shock but it should increase the probability of it and that, perhaps, is all we can ‘hope’ for from its pursuit.

If you have arrived here and get something out of my writing, please consider ordering the trilogy of my “fictional” novel series, Olduvai (PDF files; only $9.99 Canadian), via my website or the link below — the “profits” of which help me to keep my internet presence alive and first book available in print (and is available via various online retailers).

Attempting a new payment system as I am contemplating shutting down my site in the future (given the ever-increasing costs to keep it running).

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You can also find a variety of resources, particularly my summary notes for a handful of texts, especially William Catton’s Overshoot and Joseph Tainter’s Collapse of Complex Societies: see here.