Tuesday, September 26, 2017

A fascinating anniversary

A little less than a year ago, I came home from a long day at work to discover that thieves had come into my house and stolen a bunch of things.

During the season when I ride a bicycle all the way to work from home, my car stays in the driveway as a scarecrow of sorts. People associate a car in the driveway with someone being home, and an empty driveway with an unoccupied house. During periods when I have been without a car, I have looked out to see people turn away as soon as they see no motor vehicle parked out front.

As the days get shorter and drivers become less patient with a bicyclist on the road, no matter how well illuminated, I shift to park-and-ride commutes from various starting points. These let me salvage some exercise and reduce the amount of internal combustion in my life, but they also leave my driveway clearly empty.

Right after the break-in, I exhibited paranoia, hyper-vigilance, and a distinct drop in compassion. I felt anxious and quite alone. My anxiety would spike as I entered my driveway after any absence. In addition to my computer, my checkbook, my wife's jewelry, and several other items, the thieves had stolen the joy of homecoming.

As the months passed, I got used to my new security routines -- surveillance cameras inside and out, deadbolts, new and unusual places to hide valuables while I'm away -- and began to feel more relaxed. When my wife returned from her job out of state to spend the summer, our comings and goings were random enough to make our home less attractive to larceny. The pair who had broken into my house had been arrested within a month or so, ending quite a spree in the surrounding towns, but they showed no remorse and no inclination to cooperate. Their operation was apparently related to drugs. If they're out, I doubt that they have straightened out much. And even without them, others are ready to fill the vacancy.

The daylight shortens. I prepare to take up the park and ride routes again. My anxiety is climbing as the conditions begin to replicate what attracted the criminals in the first place.

Recovery from any traumatic experience traditionally takes at least a full year. You have to live through the entire cycle and beyond it to fully experience the new normal. What happened to me was fairly minor. It has a larger effect because it's easy to imagine how it could have been worse. One incident provides no immunity against future incidents. Will my upgraded defenses be sufficient? Will they even be tested? Has the criminal element that preyed on this area disbanded, or have I simply missed hearing about their depredations?

A detached part of me observes these thoughts and emotions with the fascination of a researcher. Meanwhile, the rest of me is experiencing them to the fullest.

Monday, September 25, 2017

The Crisis was Foretold

For most of my 61 years, people have been discussing the various ways in which the human species was lurching toward destruction. Whether the discussion started with population pressure, environmental degradation, nuclear proliferation, runaway diseases or some other self-created hardship, it usually led to the collapse of civilization and a time of violence as humans fought each other for a piece of whatever was left.

The inescapability of nightmare scenarios led to three distinct coping strategies: Averters, Deniers, and Enjoyers.

Averters are trying to figure out how to prevent disaster. They want to slow down the pace of destruction and try to give everyone alive a shot at an enjoyable life while we figure out the balance between unfettered freedom and long-term survival. They generally advocate population control through voluntary family planning. The more radical of them might make it mandatory. They believe in environmental stewardship, and often promote respect for human diversity as another way to forestall conflict based on xenophobia.

Deniers just please themselves and hope for the best. They may take on attributes of Averters or Enjoyers, but they really just live as opportunistic scavengers, as we have done for millions of years. Don't think, just live. It's attractive because it's easy.

Enjoyers are those scary bastards who are eager for the shooting to start. They like to divide into armed camps exhibiting close philosophical uniformity. They may be defenders of a narrow definition of goodness or they may look forward to being marauders, preying on the multitude of weaker people just asking to be slapped around.

As you can see, at least two thirds of the population are aiding the collapse.

The Averters keep trying to find ways to persuade the other factions to either smarten up or stand down. As some of them get more desperate, they really do start to sound like the totalitarian overlords that the Enjoyers have always said they were.

It has to be hard to bring kids into a world you think is evolving -- or is at least capable of evolving -- a certain way, and then realize that the future is forming much more ominously. Even a peacenik has limits.

The vitriol with which the Enjoyers greet every idea presented by the Averters creates a climate of frustration and anger on both sides. The tension pulls a few Deniers to each camp, and unsettles the remainder of the herd. For the most part, consumption goes on unabated, or even increases, as the depressed and anxious populace consoles itself with material things. Everyone has a justification, and everyone thinks that their little bit can't hurt that much.

Add them up. The whole material universe is made of tiny particles. They add up. Elections are made one vote at a time. They add up. You may not matter, but you do count.