Showing posts with label This is the way the world ends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label This is the way the world ends. Show all posts

Friday, 6 June 2014

The Morrow Project, Part 3: making things worse makes things worse

At the end of the previous post on this subject, I wrote that the next question I'd try to address would be:

"...through our relationship with the World (our home), it's natural systems, the biosphere, the atmosphere, the oceans and land, are we setting the conditions for a new 'collapse' of human society?..."

I'll front up now and confess that what I'd like to write is 'Not likely', but even if I was confident enough in my own prejudice (which I'm not especially), it would still be short changing anyone who has made the effort to come here and read this stuff.

So, let's look at the question in a bit more detail. The gist is simple: are we (collectively, Globally) screwing the Future? 

Whilst I'm inclined to avoid the more severe forms of alarm rising from any number of reports in the media of new 'crises', one advantage of being both a generalist and an external observer of Science is that my inquiries can range far and wide and aren't constrained by significant personal forces. So, what do I see?

First, clearly, evidently and without argument, both in general and in the particular, the recent impact (over the last 150 years or so, give or take) of Human activity on the Natural systems of our home (Earth) is substantially negative. Second, that negative impact has got worse progressively and unremittingly. This is not to say that all human impact is negative, or needs to be negative, but the trend is consistent, persistent and growing almost exponentially.

A lot of people will argue, though, that 'Nature' is sufficiently robust to manage and adapt to this damage, or that the Earth's systems will still be there long after we have gone, or adapted ourselves, so it doesn't matter. But such arguments fall down in a couple of ways.

Whilst large-scale ecological systems often react to external forcings, there is plenty of evidence to suggest that this is a finite state; there comes a point beyond which an ecosystem simply cannot survive the damage done. This is how some deserts, dustbowls, and so forth, come into existence. So, it is reasonably to counter that, however robust any given ecosystem or biosphere happens to be, there is a limit which results in inevitable decline, or death.

The argument that Earth will Abide (apologies to George R Stewart) is arguably irrelevant. The meaning of the question implies the persistence, at the least the desirability of the persistence, of humankind into some future or other. insofar as the question of the collapse of natural systems has meaning, its meaning is defined in relation to us, its occupants and persecutors.

Much more tricksy (well, for me, at least), is the question of Societal tipping points. under what circumstances does a social entity (a community, town, nation, etc) turn from being a more or less ordered arrangement of a group or groups of people, into a lawless, incoherent and self-destroying chaos?

There is no shortage of evidence from historical examples of societies which decline and subsequently cease to exist as a coherent entity, some of them reasonably recent. At the same time, there is ample evidence of the capacity of groups of people to adapt, transform or simply re-start somewhere else, sometime later.

One thing which seems clear from these examples, though, is that a social unit is much more vulnerable to sudden, uncontrollable or overpowering external forces for which it is unprepared. In this, human social entities share characteristics with natural systems.

So; are setting the conditions for a collapse of human society? Regardless of the answer, one thing we should be aware of is that by setting the conditions for ecosystems to reach tipping points, we are absolutely increasingly the likelihood of our being overtaken by forces no longer under our control.

My provisional answer (much simplified), is that I believe we are already seeing, in miniature, the social/human consequences of our negative environmental impacts. That these effects (war, lawlessness, rebellion, tribal/gang warfare) will increase in areas of greatest vulnerability. The more worrying, more 'global' question about the collapse of civilisation depends, in part, to the extent to which this will produce knock-on effects. But even this implies that 'stronger', more 'organised' social entities are not vulnerable to upheavals except at apocalyptic scales, and this assumption is by no means certain.

To be continued...

Saturday, 12 October 2013

Not with a bang but with a whimper

Full of Good Intentions in response to helpful comments by Steve Bloom and William Connolley, I spent three hours this morning digesting Chapter 13 (draft) of the AR5 on Sea Level Rise.

What was most helpful about my critics' comments was that I had been reminded that if you want to say something useful, you have to stay up with the game. I've been out of the arena of GW and GW discussion for some time and have forgotten much and misremembered more. 

So, following my own personal interests and alert to my new-found ignorance, I chugged through the chapter with full intention of finding something to say and blogging it here. Which I probably will, later.

But in the interim I've been diverted by a sideline which I feel certainly deserves a mention. Thanks to dialogue on RealClimate (sidebar link) and via email, I got to thinking about one of the best books I have ever read. And I have read a lot of books.

It isn't a book about climate change or global warming. It isn't strictly science fiction, nor truly easily fitted into any particular genre, but it is profound, affecting, literate and relevant.

From his own website, I have borrowed the following:





This Is the Way the World Ends

Finalist, Nebula Award
John Campbell Award 
Finalist
BBC Critic's Choice (Best SF
     Novel)
THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS


In 1995, George Paxton is an ordinary American living an ordinary life in an ordinary town. Content as a tombstone carver and family man, George lacks only one thing: a fashionable "scopas" survival suit--complete with sanitary facilities and a Colt.45--to protect his daughter in the event of nuclear war.
Then, through a twist of fate, George secures the coveted suit, a deluxe golden model, for the price of a mere signature. Unfortunately, what he signs proves to be a diabolical pact affirming his complicity in the escalating arms race, and as the war that could never happen happens, George is whisked into the past and the future to face the consequences of his actions.


Morrow's own comment is most pertinent here:


At first blush, a critic might bracket This Is the Way the World Ends with other post-holocaust fiction. From Alas, Babylon through A Canticle for Leibowitz to Riddley Walker, this genre has commonly styled itself an avatar of hope. My goal lay elsewhere. I began with the assumption that most people would prefer to exercise hope before the warheads arrive. I wanted to speak for victims, not celebrate survivors.

Even the most elaborate nuclear exchange would probably fail to extinguish Homo sapiens. Some of us will muddle through. In This Is the Way the World Ends, though, I decided to use self-extinction as a metaphor for the legions who won't make it. It's all very well to valorize our species's undoubted resilience, but a mass grave is hardly a fit monument to such sentiments.

Reading Jonathan Schell's The Fate of the Earth., I was particularly impressed by one line: "The right vantage point from which to view a holocaust is that of a corpse." It struck me that most nuclear-war fiction is really a kind of pornography, inviting us to identify with winners while the losers, the corpses, drop away. So how might a novelist assume the vantage point of the dead? Through recourse, I reasoned, to the tools of speculative fiction. Eventually I hit upon the conceit of "the unadmitted," the generations whose births were canceled by the extinction. I gave them flesh and a temporary lease on life.

Reprinted from SFWA Bulletin


How good is this book? Here are two critics' assessments:

"This Is the Way the World Ends begins where Dr. Strangelove ends. It is a tale told from the other side of the grave--quite literally from the point of view of the dead--and what makes it so wonderful is not merely that it is informed about how and why the world may end, but because throughout it remains a true tale, rich in narrative and moral complexity, magically inventive and comic ... This Is the Way the World Ends defies genre. It is science fiction the way Gulliver's Travels is science fiction, fantasy the way John Collier's Fancies and Goodnights is fantasy, satire in the way George Orwell's 1984 is satire. It is also profoundly and grimly comic in the way Thomas Berger's novels are comic. Which is only to say that This Is the Way the World Ends is a unique mix of science fiction, satire, fantasy, and comedy--a gorgeously crafted and insanely funny tale about mortal and ghostly matters. It is a fable for our times, yes, but (except in a few of the too-lengthy trial sections) rarely moralistic or heavy-handed ... James Morrow is an original--stylistically ingenious, savagely funny, always unpredictable. He has written a story of the way and the why of our dear and foolish world--its sources of life and of death--that is utterly dazzling and memorable."

Jay Neugeboren
Philadelphia Inquirer

"Add to this scenario great suspense, fast action, a complex and sympathetic protagonist, and unrestrained black comedy, and the result is a wonderfully surreal novel worthy of comparison with the best political satire of this century ... Everyone should read this book: pacifists, moderates, militarists, and especially the uncommitted."

John A. Zurlo

Forth Worth Star-Telegram



The relevance comes from transposition. Morrow places his protagonist in a position where he is judged by future generations, both living and never born (the 'future dead') for his shared complicity in failing to prevent disaster to befall the planet, for thinking of himself first and not considering the consequences of his choices.

I am sure an intelligent reader can draw the obvious comparisons for herself.

I don't need to advise you to read and digest. The process of reading alone will guarantee that you will think about lots of things, not least how brilliant Morrow is.
Please, read the book.