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| 2021 coda to Apologies to the Grandchildren |
In Electrifying the Titanic, Ophuls breaks no new ground. His theme throughout his books, especially those published in this century (beginning with Plato’s Revenge) share a common theme: our industrial civilization is destined for a reckoning, and the reckoning will not see the survival of industrial civilization. The causes are many, including some causes suffered by civilizations in the past. Our civilization is outrunning its resources, including the resources needed to address its “waste.” Of course, it’s become obvious to all but those most determined to remain obtuse that we no longer are looking at the reality of climate change as a reality ahead of us; we are in the midst of it. And to allow the human project to survive, we will need to see a complete change in our ecological, economic, social, and political systems. Entire worldviews need to change.
Sounds too much like Chicken Little’s warning that the sky is falling? I wish that I could believe that, but I fear—yes, fear—that Ophuls is on to something. We seem destined to keep our heads in the sand as long as possible to extend the status quo that's melting (literally) before our eyes. We have leaders who acknowledge the problem, but who are unable to move the procrastinators, gamblers, and Pollyannas. We need to slam on the brakes before we collide head-on with reality. Of course, if this seems too harsh, too “alarmist,” then don’t read Ophuls. Ophuls writes with the voice of an Old Testament prophet or (as he apparently is), a Buddhist master who brooks no excuses. I believe that Ophuls is a Buddhist meditation teacher as well as a leading thinker in the field of ecology, civilization, and politics. His book on Buddhist meditation is aptly titled Buddha Takes No Prisoners. So if you’re looking for solace and encouragement, go elsewhere. On the other hand, if you’re willing to hear a prophetic voice, listen up!
Again, this isn’t the place to start reading Ophuls, but still, he covers some basics. In short, we can’t continue to consume at the rate that we have been. Much of our efforts will now have to go into preserving what we have, not expanding our capabilities. A replacement bridge, for instance, adds to GNP but it doesn't expand our capabilities. Much of what we do to keep our economic machine humming along involves piling complexity onto complexity in an effort to solve, or more often, simply to postpone resolving our problems. At some point—forced by circumstances—we’ll have to reduce and simplify. Unfortunately, our path of development has kicked the lower (simpler) rungs of the ladder out from beneath us, which will cause a sudden fall and preclude a climb down. When all is said and done, Ophuls believes that we humans will once again become primarily an agricultural species. (In an earlier work, borrowing, I believe, from William Irwin Thompson, Ophuls hopes for something like “Bali with electronics.”)
But is a dignified retreat or realignment of our civilization possible? Ophuls isn’t optimistic. He notes that the American constitutional system doesn’t fit well in our contemporary world. Indeed, he describes the U.S. constitutional regime as “antiquated.” Also, the civil society upon which Tocqueville saw American democracy based has declined precipitously. We lack an “authoritative standard of virtue.” And addition to the disorder of our current political regime, we have “thermodynamic debts” as a result of “degradation, decay, and disorder." All of these factors bode a “time of troubles” ahead.
Recognizing that our political regime is likely to fail the current challenges, the best advice that Ophuls has to offer is the practice of Machiavelli’s virtu; that is, strength of heart and mind in the face of daunting fate. We will live again in the world of Thucydides, in which the strong will prey upon the weak. We will need Machiavelli’s ethics—a willingness to use evil in the pursuit of a higher good—even more in the future than we have in the past.
Is the analysis of Ophuls correct? Over the course of his books that I’ve read, I find his case convincing. I’d love for him to be proven wrong; but I fear he’s being proven right. If I could wave a wand and awaken the world to our plight; make the human race utterly sensible; and make politics truly functional for the greater good, I would happily do so. But I can’t do this; no billionaire can do this (and even those hoping to do so). All we can do is muddle through, hoping that we act before our situation deteriorates too much further, as indeed it is deteriorating—despite improvements—by the minute. Truly, Ophuls is a prophet crying in the wilderness hoping to turn the people from their folly, their idolatry. But prophecy is neither fortune-telling nor mere forecasting. It's a call to create the future via an appreciation of the consequences of our choices.
We’d all be wise to weigh the words of this prophet.
