We Are the Threat: Reflections on Near-Term Human
Extinction
The most merciful
thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate
all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black
seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences,
each straining in its own direction, have
hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated
knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful
position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from
the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age. One of the
penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of
wounds.
Nature is master of none before continuing, let me qualify a bit some of what I have just said. By “near-term,” I mean quite possibly within my lifetime (I am 22 years old) and even more probably within the 21st century in general. By “extinction,” I mean to evoke the simplest sense of that word – complete disappearance of humans from existence – but, more accurately, I mean something like “sudden, drastic reduction or even total eradication of human population concomitant with the collapse of complex advanced industrial society.” I mean “ecological” in the standard – if rarely truly applied to humans – sense of that word, and I mention thermodynamics because of the centrality of energy, specifically fossil fuels, to the causality of near-term human extinction.
Section I: Content Warning, Mortality
Salience, and Irruptions of Extinction Awareness
This
essay explores an unsettling topic: the probability of near-term human
extinction.
Before
I continue with this exploration, let me issue two caveats. First, in writing
this essay I am thinking through, grappling with, and attempting to synthesize
an enormous and diverse volume of information. This is an important exercise
for me as I prepare to embark on writing a dissertation informed by this
content. So, although I have full confidence in the analysis and theorizing
that follows, this essay is an incipient, not a final, representation of my
thoughts on this issue.
Despite
my thinking’s nascent state, I am sharing this essay because – given what I
take to be the urgency of this matter – I want to offer something like a
preview and a guide for those readers who may wish to pursue their own
independent research regarding this topic.
This
leads me to the second caveat. I want to emphasize in the strongest possible
terms that the reader should carefully consider the gravity of joining me on
this journey. If you are in a fragile state of mind, or if you wish not to
enter into a fragile state of mind, you might want to stop reading now. This is
a sincere warning: what follows not only has the potential to induce existential crisis, but I am
intentionally presenting it for the express purpose of inducing existential
crisis.
Still
here? Very well then. Let me begin with a concrete example that, I argue, is
representative of the kind of awareness that will soon begin imposing itself
more and more frequently on more and more persons.
Now,
even if we accept my cursory description of the phenomenology of these events,
why do I make the strong and perhaps outrageous seeming claim that they are
indicators of near-term human extinction? Here we must make recourse to and
then build backwards from an application of first principles; particularly,
principles of ecology. In other words, we must come to see how fundamental
ecological principles operating on the global human population render near-term
human extinction an ecological, or even a thermodynamic, certainty.
Once this truth is grasped, it becomes obvious that although the particular instantiations of these irruptions can and will vary, sometimes chaotically and their general appearance as antecedents to a foregone conclusion – extinction – is as definite as a pressure drop heralding the onset of a storm.11 Put differently, the specific ways in which these irruptions will arrive are more or less undetermined, but that they will arrive is certain. Therefore, as a class of phenomena, events that produce irruptions of extinction awareness ought to be thought of as portents, omens, foreshadows, or harbingers of extinction. By learning to read and prognosticate about these signs, that we are living through a chronicle of an extinction foretold.12
Finally, I ask the intrepid reader to open his or her mind and, at the risk of becoming unmoored, receive what follows with maximal charity. What I am about to discuss will likely challenge many of your core beliefs and assumptions about yourself and the world. These notions will have to be washed away, for, in the words of “The assumption that what currently exists must necessarily exist is the acid that corrodes all visionary thinking.”13 And contemplating death, or extinction, is about as visionary as thinking gets.
14 In other words, we contemporary humans normally relate to time not much differently than did the ancient Greeks, who experienced “the future as something that came upon them from behind their backs with the past receding away before their eyes.”15 Our lot, it seems, is perpetually to take ourselves by surprise.
However,
we humans also have tremendous powers of foresight. Indeed, foresight is the
complement to memory “striking similarities between remembering the past and
imagining or simulating the future, including… a common brain network [that]
underlies both memory and imagination.”17 In other words, many of the same
brain regions are “commonly engaged by past and future event construction.”18 This should
not surprise anyone who has ever dreamed.
Thus one way we can
use our powers of foresight, is to “try and imagine our current situation as
the past present for a future historian.”19 In this way and others, we can
glance over our shoulders at the future that lies behind and yet ahead of us.
Indeed, that is how some perspicacious observers were able to predict. But,
importantly, all humans do or can have access to this power of perception, for
“[we are] human; nothing human is alien to [us].”20
So, please: remain humble about what
you think you know, and become comfortable with the possibility that you may be
capable of knowing more than you think.
Section II: The Case – Population Overshoot
With that ground-clearing complete, and in the interests of time and space, let me summarize and comment on what I take to be the most clear-eyed account of humans’ precarious position in the world. I am referring to sociologist William R. Catton, Jr.’s convincing claim, in his astounding 1980 book Overshoot: The Ecological Basis of Revolutionary Change, that misuse of fossil fuels has enabled the human population to overshoot (i.e., surpass) the carrying capacity (i.e., “the maximum population of a species which a given habitat can indefinitely support”) of the entire planet Earth such that a species-wide crash, or die-off, is inevitable and imminent.21
The details are daunting, but the premise is simple. Throughout human evolutionary history, the human population has increased over time as humans have gained access, primarily through migration and technological innovation, to ever greater amounts of resources. Here we can point, major developments like the use of fire, the invention of spears and other primitive weapons, horticulture, bronze metallurgy, agriculture, iron tools, firearms, industrialization (i.e., fossil fueled machinery), electrification, and antibiotics. These and other enantiodromic ‘advances’ allowed for the global human population to balloon from an estimated 3 million persons 35,000 years ago to an estimated 7.6 billion persons alive today – an increase of over 250,000%.
As quick as this increase is from a geological perspective, it becomes even more striking when we consider that the bulk of human population growth has occurred in just the last 200 years: since the year 1800, global population has increased from an estimated 969 million to the aforementioned 7.6 billion.22 This kind of precipitous growth represents another, different meaning of the word irruption, in the sense of a bloom, or “the rapid exponential increase of a population after it suddenly gains access to an abundance of the resources it requires.”23
What
matters from an ecological perspective is that the rapid growth of human population
from the Industrial Revolution onward has been almost wholly dependent upon the
consumption of energy from fossil fuels. Though we in the year 2018 take this
fact completely for granted, ,
The breakthrough we
call industrialism was fundamentally unlike earlier [such breakthroughs in
human evolutionary history.] It did not just take over for human use another
portion of the web that had previously supported other forms of life. Instead,
it went underground to extract carrying capacity supplements from a finite and
depletable fund – a fund that was created and buried by nature, scores of
millions of years before man came along. The drawdown [i.e., extraction] method
that we call industrialism relied for its increase of opportunities upon the
use of resources that are not renewed in an annual cycle of organic growth. To
expect to “do it again” is to expect to find other exhaustible
resources each time we use up a batch of them… In short, industrial life
depends on a perpetual hunt for required substances… Now we rely, as
members of industrial societies, upon [substances] with renewal times that may
be thousands or even millions of times longer than a human lifespan. Their
renewal is by geological processes; present stocks of them were put in place by
operation of those processes over immensely long stretches of earth history.
Mankind cannot realistically hope to assume management of prehistoric events,
or to replenish the ores and fuels now being extracted so ravenously. Instead,
we must face the fact that, after ten millenia of progress, Homo
sapiens is “back at square one.” Industrialization committed us to living
again, massively, as hunters and gatherers of substances which only
nature can provide, and which occur only in limited quantity.25
It
is this fundamental, immutable fact about fossil fuels – i.e., that they are
finite – that has allowed humans to overshoot the carrying capacity of Earth.
For, tragically, we humans have mistaken the energy afforded us by fossil fuels
as permanently rather than temporarily available. This error has prevented us
from preparing for what is colloquially referred to as ‘peak oil‘ – even now, over thirty-five years
after the publication of Limits to Growth, Department of
Energy report warned of the “unprecedented risk management problem” associated
with the impending “peaking of world oil production.”26
Now, I can already hear the counterarguments seeking to deny this basic ecological reality in which humans are embedded. Most notably, dismantles a kind of technocentrism that the “faith that technological progress will stave off major institutional change even in a post-exuberant world.”39 Cargoism, as an ideology or worldview, falsely justifies a sort of human exceptionalism from the operation of ecological principles. As such, cargoism is one of the primary terror-relieving mechanisms by which humans convince themselves that they are or can be somehow exempted from the Earth’s sixth great extinction event – an event that they have caused and that is presently unfolding all around them.40
The
human penchant for fantasy suggests another major factor for why Overshoot,
despite its powerful message – epidemiologist Harold B. Weiss in 2009 said
that Overshoot “ranks as one of the most important books ever
written, period” – has not attracted more scholarly interest, to say nothing of
mainstream attention or acceptance.42 Overshoot contains
dangerous knowledge; it is a real life Necronomicon or Tome of Eternal
Darkness.43 To read it
and related texts is to arrive at a crossroads. The path of truth leads to an
irrevocable puncturing of the fantasies that underlie human terror management
strategies. The path of fantasy, which is the more common choice, ignores or
denies truth and leads deeper into delusion. Aldous Huxley well understood this
dilemma:
Suddenly to realize
that one is sitting, damned, among the other damned – it is a most disquieting
experience; so disquieting that most of us react to it by immediately plunging
more deeply into our particular damnation in the hope, generally realized, that
we may be able, at least for a time, to stifle our revolutionary knowledge.44
Insofar
as Catton’s “revolutionary” book itself represents an irruption of extinction
awareness, then, it – for the same reasons of terror management described above
– unsurprisingly has been disregarded by most people, including academics.
Let me now make two final notes for this section. First, we should not mistake Catton’s analysis for indictment. As a brute fact, the current human situation cannot be pinned on any one person or group of people. And, much to my dismay, overshoot cannot be wholly blamed on capitalism, either. Indeed, although “growth for the sake of growth” is both capitalism’s prime directive as well as “the ideology of the cancer cell,” any non-ecological system of social organization – including non-ecological socialism, communism, or anarchism – would almost certainly have led to the same outcome of population overshoot, albeit perhaps not quite as quickly.45
After all, Julian Jaynes reminds us, “language is an organ of perception, not simply a means of communication.” So, since the very word ‘ecology’ did not even emerge until the late 19th century and did not become popularized until the 1960s, most humans literally could not have seen the sword of Damocles they were collectively positioning their progeny beneath.47 Thus we should concur with Catton that overshoot is humanity’s “fate.” For, as sociologist C. Wright Mills explains, fate “is shaping history when what happens to us was intended by no one and was the summary outcome of innumerable small decisions about other matters by innumerable people.”48 This notion of fate as a failure of coordination provides one explanation for why, as Joseph Tainter shows in The Collapse of Complex Societies, civilizations throughout history have regularly fallen.49 Indeed, when we recognize that even now, in the age of the Internet, humans are beset by seemingly intractable collective action problems, we have to admit that our history as it actually unfolded never afforded us an opportunity to avert our upcoming rendezvous with destiny. Hence we must forgive ourselves, for we knew not what we did.50
Though I lack the space and time here to make as comprehensive a case as Rees’s and others’, before moving on I would like to briefly mention what I see as the most significant risks attending our population overshoot. These risks include (1) accelerating anthropogenic climate breakdown (itself, in all its variegated forms, a function of fossil fuel consumption); (2) the staggering loss of global biodiversity (reflective of our position in the Holocene extinction); (3) the rise of what political theorist Sheldon Wolin calls ‘inverted totalitarianism,’ or increasingly inequitable, extractionist, and repressive corporatocratic neoliberal or neofascist regimes (which, as the folks of Rojava have shown, can perhaps be resisted best through principles of social ecology and practices of libertarian municipalism)
It
is to the reminders of these terrors – intrusions into consciousness of
extinction awareness, or irruptions of irruption – that I wish now to return.
Section III: Some Philosophical Implications of The Case
vaguely or precognitively, when they experience irruptions of extinction awareness is precisely the unfolding crash stemming from human population overshoot. In other words, these persons are suddenly, horrifyingly, and ineffably experiencing themselves in relation to the hyperobject to end all hyperobjects – extinction.61 Thus they are peering behind “the veil of our reality,” glimpsing the “terrifying vistas of reality” alluded to by Lovecraft, and feeling their own “frightful position therein.”62 And, like dogs barking before an earthquake, these persons understandably panic in the face of this incomprehensible and ineluctable doom.63
After all, panic “happens when the confidence of society’s members in each other breaks down… and gives way to an ‘every man for himself’ type of scrambling… this can arise from (1) general perception of severe and immediate danger, coupled with (2) belief that the opportunities for escape are limited, (3) belief that these opportunities are diminishing, and (4) an absence of adequate communication about the danger.”64 These conditions well match those that arise during events that produce irruptions of extinction awareness. Therefore, as we approach extinction these conditions – which call to mind Hobbes’s bellum omnium contra omnes, or Thucydides’s disturbing account of plague-ridden Athens – will eventually, in a vast, cacophonous crescendo, engulf every human community on Earth
So,
then, paraphrasing Albert Camus, there is but one truly serious philosophical
problem, and that is extinction.69 But what do we do about it? One
possibility is to work backwards from our conclusion about extinction’s
inevitability to reinterpret in that light the events of today. This might seem
to suggest, as paleontologist Michael Novacek puts it, that “the overarching
recognition that we live in a world already radically transformed by human
activity must frame our strategies for effecting maintenance or recovery of our
vital ecosystems.”70 But, though I
agree with Novacek that “the current biodiversity crisis has one obvious biotic
cause: ourselves,” I do not share even his tepid optimism that “the source of
the trauma also has the presumed capacity to mitigate its own deleterious
impact.”71 To be blunt,
it seems to me that such mitigation would require us to make unprecedented
changes on an infeasible scale within an impossible time frame. Can’t we find
some humility here at the end?
My pessimism about mitigation notwithstanding, if any members of our species are to have any hope of surviving our self-inflicted extinction event, we must indeed resolve our ongoing failure to recognize that we are in it. We should, then, devote all our efforts to facilitating what psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton calls “the climate swerve,” or “our evolving awareness of our predicament.”72 To that end, I propose, following Catton, that we can gain a far more adequate understanding of our world if we shift – in the manner described most famously by Thomas Kuhn In so doing, we can come to see how historical and current events – like Trump’s ‘election’ and swift normalization, the water crisis nearing Day Zero in Cape Town, the American opioid epidemic, the famine-genocide in Yemen, and the abrupt loss of Arctic sea ice – can be read with foresight as the kinds of omens or signs I mentioned above.74
But not only can an ecological paradigm help us demystify much of the suffering that has accompanied our pre-ecological ignorance, it can also – more significantly for our future – empower us to take the steps that we must take in order for some small number of us to perhaps survive our current predicament. For, as Plotinus writes, “the knowledge of future things is, in a word, identical with that of the present.”75 Thus there is “profound peril in continued flagrant misperception of the very nature of the human situation” in what we now call the Anthropocene.76 Indeed, the peril of seven and a half billion Wile E. Coyotes looking down all at once – yikes!
To
be sure, “misperception is the problem to be overcome by a paradigm shift, and
only a paradigm shift can overcome it.”78 Yet effecting this paradigm shift
is a task of appropriately colossal proportions. How, if at all, can we hope to
educate others for this kind of transformation of consciousness?79 How can one
teach an unspeakable truth to those who lack the ears to hear it?80 Put
differently, how do we overcome the quandary of Nietzsche’s madman, who, after
speaking plainly his truth, sees that he has not been comprehended?
“I have come too
early,” he said then; “my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on
its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and
thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done,
still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from
them than most distant stars – and yet they have done it themselves.81
It
seems that the madman’s only option is to find a way to reduce the distance
between “the ears of men” and the “deed.” This, then, is the task to which I
can and must now bring my entire being to bear. Not because I think I will or
even can succeed; surely my efforts will amount to little more than polishing the brass
on the Titanic. But I must do this because – knowing what I know
and being who I am – I feel obligated, or compelled, to try.82
I hope that you, reader – having come to understand the human situation for what it is – now feel similarly. For we are going to need each other’s help “as night closes in.”83
Section IV: Conclusion
Before concluding, first let me say that if you’ve read this far, I applaud and thank you – it takes courage to confront this truth and perseverance to endure my unsparing writing style. Second, and since “what’s past is prologue,” I want to briefly describe my preliminary approach to closing the gap between ears and deed.
The
problem of misperception about the human situation is an epistemological one.
This epistemological conundrum, as I see it, has three major dimensions: (1)
cognitive, (2) ideological or worldview-based, and (3) existential. More
verbosely, the most significant obstacles blocking from human awareness the
reality of impending extinction stem from (1) cognitive limitations (e.g.,
common cognitive biases, such as time preference, and the inability of most
persons – primarily resulting from their having been miseducated, not from
innate intellectual deficiencies – to think in the mode of what I call formal operational
thinking, to
say nothing of the more advanced and far less widespread modes of dialectical
thinking, vision-logic, and systems thinking, among others); (2) conceptual
blind spots stemming from various systematic ideological misconstruals of
reality (e.g., false consciousness or
misrecognition of one’s place in hierarchical and classist society, capitalist
dogma like the unquestioned and unquestionable value of unlimited growth [which
makes degrowth unimaginable and therefore impossible], and Catton’s cargoism);
(3) inability and/or unwillingness to ask existential questions and to confront
one’s own mortality even under optimal conditions (i.e., death denial as
described by terror management theory), and, therefore, an almost unbreakable
attachment to the illusory pseudosubject of the individuated ego.
Taken
together, these impediments prevent our moving from a pre-ecological to an
ecological paradigm. To overcome them, we must do deliberately and
compassionately what irruptions of extinction awareness do violently and
indiscriminately. That is, we must systematically deconstruct our paradigmatic
limitations in a way that, from their rubble, offers reconstructive resources
for the developmental move from a less to a more adequate species-wide paradigm
or worldview. Then with eyesight nearer to be able to see that “it is no
measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”86
In a
sense, this amounts to an idea of education as simulated near-death experience – fitting,
given our proximity to extinction.87 This framing emphasizes the fact
that, rather than focusing our efforts on trying to change the seen,
we must instead attempt to alter the seer. For the goal is not to
persuade humans that things are different than they think they are; rather, the
goal is to empower humans to disclose to themselves a state of affairs that is
already the case but that is going misperceived by them. Therefore, as adult
education scholar, we must change humans’ perspectives on their world – a
process which necessarily entails changing their conceptions of themselves.88 What I am
suggesting, in other words, is that there is a mode of being that is as
qualitatively distinct from conventional adulthood as conventional adulthood is
from childhood, and that this more advanced level of development is what we
should be trying to realize in ourselves as a strategy for surviving
extinction.89
Ironically,
then, the only way for us to save ourselves from extinction is to die to what
we are and to become reborn as something we are not. An important part of this
process will be the heeding of “know yourselves – be infertile and let
the earth be silent after ye.”92 Tragically, not all will hear
this injunction, and so we must consider the plight of the children who will
continue to be born even as our species draws nearer and nearer to extinction.
These youths – who will not be burdened by any obligations to a dysgenic,
filicidal system of social organization that has doomed and declared war on
them from before the moment of their conception; who, having been thrown into
this world, will not hesitate to acknowledge the self-evident reality of the
human situation that their indoctrinated elders embedded in the gerontocracy
self-servingly deny – will likely be our species’ only hope for survival.93 Educating
this final, fated generation for undergoing – and, perhaps, overcoming –
extinction, then, is the labor with which wise adults will soon be (are
already) tasked.
I have much more to say about how we might organize to systematically perform this labor (recognizing, of course, that in reality there is not enough time left for us to actually complete it), as well as about what form my own contribution to this labor might take. However, this essay is not the place to go further into detail on these points – that is what my future research, including my dissertation, is for. Until then, I will say that my fool’s hope lies in the kind of work being done by scholars focused on the nexus of developmental psychology, deliberative democracy, critical pedagogy and psychagogy, and cosmopolitanism. In particular, political theorist Jack Crittenden’s book, Wide as the World: Cosmopolitan Identity, Integral Politics, and Democratic Dialogue; futurist Jennifer Gidley’s book, Postformal Education: A Philosophy for Complex Futures; integral theorist Ken Wilber’s ouvre; and much of the thinking being done in certain academic journals like World Futures: The Journal of New Paradigm Research and the Journal of Transformative Education stand out as the most compelling sources of inspiration for promoting radical, species-wide change.94
In the meantime, what matters is that all of us come to grips with the human situation. Crucially, each of us can do this on his or her own – we do not need to wait for utopian institutional change to guide us.
edge.”114
So gaze long into that abyss, friends – and drop off! Light a lantern as you fall through a tesseract beyond the veil of our reality, and, once you cross Owl Creek in the Mountains of Madness, find a human with whom to share an amontillado.115 In other words, do as Jesus said and “leave the dead to bury their own dead.”
We best start believing in human extinction – we’re living through it!





