Self reliance, part 3.
In part 1 of this article series, I wrote in general terms about an alternative paradigm for conceptualizing the relationship between economics and ecosystems, between the sustainability of human livelihoods and landscapes. It is not a new paradigm, by any means, but one that we seem set on relegating to a less-civilized past. Indeed the march of civilization has systematically rooted-out (or is still in the process of doing so) every example of self-reliance that it has encountered. Nevertheless, it stands as the only paradigm in history that has successfully mediated a concomitant relationship between people and ecosystems. I followed this up with some anecdotes of how capitalist ideals have come to take precedent over our democratic cultural and political ideals. To paraphrase E.F. Schumacher, the modern perception of prestige tends to vary in inverse proportion to one’s closeness to actual production; so pervasive is this notion that we sadly forsake the hard-won principles of solidarity and self-determination that we built this nation, on in the name of “looking out for number one.” Inevitably, this ego-centricity and preoccupation with the accumulation of wealth has spelled disaster for our communities and ecosystems.
In The Story of B, Daniel Quinn offered a very different telling of our predicament, one not focused on how dire our circumstances are, but on the mind-set that has brought us here. Thus, implicit in this story is the possibility of choosing a different path. The story is of a frog who rather unwittingly finds his way into a pot of water that is then placed to boil over a campfire. At first, this new spot seems quite comfortable for the frog; it certainly doesn’t recognize its perilous circumstances. As the water warms, the frog does not jump out, as you might expect, because it has no way of comprehending the entirety of its situation. Ultimately, this tragic figure is doomed to fall asleep, perishing with no knowledge whatsoever of its own demise.
We, in this story, are obviously the frog. Fortunately for all of us, however, some of us have at least a general comprehension of the entirety of our situation. It is not yet too late for us to muster up the courage to jump out of our stew. An escape route, as I have suggested, does not lay in new technologies that allow us to stay in the warming water longer, perpetuating the same old premises of our civilization. It is these premises, not our implementations of them, which are causing the water to boil. Instead, we must face the need to opt out, to jump out of the water and experiment with new configurations of community and society that are not at odds with the laws of ecology and thermodynamics.
I have no templates for what those configurations might or could look like, because there is no one right configuration to be found. I do, however, know of a design philosophy that has seen some success in the past: communities that value local culture, social relationships and self-reliance. And I cannot over-emphasize the community aspect of this; to opt-out of community as we do currently in our society is to opt-out of a life support system designed by millions of years of trial and selection. I’d hold that up against the laboratory science of Monsanto or BP any day.
But what recourse do we have when the policy-making and policy-implementation systems deny us this right to opt-out, because our democracy have been captured by capitalist values masquerading as democratic ones? The last time that people in this country struggled for autonomy from a non-democratic rule there was a revolution. I am by no means recommending that we all ought to take up arms (though following the printing of this article it is certain that I’ll appear on one or more Patriot Act watch lists). Very much to the contrary, I still believe that the structures of our democracy are intact, impotent as a result of atrophy. We’re just rusty.
The patriots of the past did not create a perfect union; rather they set up a system based on living documents, by which we could pursue a more perfect union. This was a time when it was grammatically correct to say “The United States are,” rather than “is.” Perhaps one of the most powerful rights issued us by our constitution is not free speech or freedom of assembly, but the right to amend the constitution itself when it is found lacking in its protection of our democracy. Not something to take cavalierly, to be sure, but should it be necessary (and I think that it is), it all starts with an idea. Just as this country was founded as a great experiment across a plurality of communities, we must begin to experiment again, calling into question as undemocratic anything that stands in our way, especially dogma.
Our courts and lawmakers have already shown us in unequivocal terms which side of this debate they are on. It is time that we tell them in equally unequivocal terms that they have the peoples of these states all wrong. Politics is, after all, simply a matter of who has the power to define what is real and what is right. In a democracy, that power rests in the hands of the people. Fortunately, we still have some knowledge of, and a few doggedly persistent examples of these lifestyles to look to for wisdom: times when people did not pursue mass ecocide in the name of human achievement and capital gains; when people did not struggle with epidemics of coronary heart disease, diabetes, depression; times when we tried far less to control the world around us, yet could live our lives with immeasurably more freedom and security. To me, that sounds like a wonderful world to live in.
