Feral Philosophy

Yesterday I was talking with my mother on the phone. Through a chain of conversation topics we began to talk about progress. We were specifically talking about progress in terms of the progress of our (American) society. My mother said that she believes that there has been and continues to be much progress, and that she has faith in that progress. My outlook isn’t as optimistic. I don’t discount the progress that my mother points out. I just don’t think it’s enough, and frankly, I think that along with all the progress there is plenty of regress.

When the United States was formed all people were considered to be owed equal rights. That was apparently a radical notion. Trouble is that not everyone was a person, and certain people were owed rights that were a little more equal than others. For example, slaves were not considered people. Slaves were not owed rights. Women and men who didn’t own land might be assured some rights, but not all rights. White men who owned land had rights that were more equal than the rest. By comparison, today’s amended constitution and laws recognize equal rights for all people regardless of gender, race, or landholdings. We could question whether everyone gets to experience equal rights or not. Perhaps the equal rights are on paper only. Perhaps the truth in this country still is that black people don’t have equal rights. Perhaps the truth is that women still don’t have equal rights. Perhaps the truth is that people without money still don’t have equal rights. But that argument isn’t for this writing. For today I’m willing to just admit that there has been progress on these fronts, both on paper and in actuality. Segregation may still exist in spirit. But that spirit of hatred has been weakened greatly, and at least segregation is no longer sanctioned. This is progress. Women can vote. This is progress. I’ll admit this. There is progress.

My father sometimes recounts to me his experience during the late 60s or early 70s of flying over Lake Michigan. He tells of how the lake was brown and black and ugly from the notorious industrial pollution. He then tells of flying over Lake Michigan again in the 90s. This time the lake was clear and looked clean and healthy. This is progress. There are lots of similar examples. Denver, once the most polluted city in the United States cleaned up its act. Industrial pollution in the United States is far less than it was decades ago. Car emissions regulations have cleaned up exhaust. Again, it’s progress.

However, I have two questions. Is this progress enough? And does our story of progress and our part in progress cause us to disregard or downplay the many negatives that have accompanied progress, and in the final evaluation is the progress even progress or is it just a fancy optical illusion? I’d like to look at the second question first.

I’m interested in knowing how much of the environmental “progress” in the United States has been more about outsourcing our problems to “third-world” nations than real progress. Consider steel. The American steel industry was once an integral part of the American economy. It was also an integral part of American industrial pollution. What happened to the American steel industry? It moved overseas. Did we create a sustainable steel industry (I know that the very notion of a sustainable steel industry may be laughable, but I’m just asking) or did we just outsource steel production so the pollution isn’t in our back yard? Even allowing that in the United States industrial pollution per factory is less than it was decades ago, what can we say about the pollution globally that is directly linked to the manufacture of products made to be sold in the United States? Just because a factory is in China or Vietnam or Guatemala doesn’t mean that pollution shouldn’t be attributed to the United States if the products are manufactured with the intent to sell them to U.S. customers (or consumers, as Americans apparently prefer to be called these days.) China’s pollution problem (which is often cited in reports and publications) isn’t really China’s problem except for the sad fact that the Chinese people have to live with the effects. But the blame should be placed squarely on the shoulders of those who are outsourcing the manufacture. That would be us, the Americans. It’s our pollution that we’ve send overseas.

From this same perspective it shouldn’t be difficult to see that human rights abuses and slavery overseas (particularly in manufacturing facilities where products are made for stocking shelves in U.S. stores) is also merely the way that we ship our human rights abuses and slavery overseas. I think that it’s patently dishonest when we Americans claim that we abolished slavery. It’s not true. We just moved it outside our national borders.

My point is that to claim true progress we have to take a look at the whole picture. Otherwise it all reminds me a bit of room inspections when I was in high school. I went to a residential school and lived in dorms. Each week we had room inspections in which the counselors would verify that we had cleaned our rooms. Many of us would sweep dirt under the rug and close the toilet seat and shower curtain, hoping the counselor wouldn’t look too closely. We didn’t clean at all. We just tried to give the appearance of cleanliness. It was an illusion. If we just move pollution and human rights abuses (or anything else, for that matter, including torture, animal testing, or deforestation) to somewhere else that doesn’t absolve us. That doesn’t make the problem go away. That doesn’t solve anything. It just helps us to feel smug for a while.

But I think there’s much more to this first question than just a matter of smoke and mirrors. There’s also the fact that in our rush to claim progress we tend to ignore all the other really crappy things that happen. In the United States legislation forced manufacturers to clean up (or move overseas.) But meanwhile the majority of land in the United States that has already been cleared of its natural trees, flora, and fauna to make way for monocropping is now sprayed with pesticides. Runoff of pesticides in the Mississippi river accumulates in the Gulf of Mexico creating one of the ocean’s largest “dead zones”. Almost makes you think that maybe we’d be better off trading for our old pollution problems back again instead of the newer problems.

As you may well know, I could go on and on about all the “bad” things that have happened and continue to happen in recent history. But I’ll spare you that today. You’ll have to wait until another day when I’m writing earlier in the day and feel I have more time to foam at the mouth. The point I’m trying to make is that really, I wouldn’t be so fast to say that there’s been net progress. Yes, there’s been progress here and here in isolation. And that progress has been important. I’m not for a second advocating for returning slavery to the United States or removing a woman’s right to vote or asking Detroit to start polluting at the levels of 1955. All I’m saying is that when you look at the bigger picture the progress that we are quick to cite is seemingly easily offset and overwhelmed by all the regress and negative actions. This is just my opinion. But I think it’s worth seriously considering for yourself. And this leads to the next question, which was the first question.

Is the progress enough? I think you already know my response to this. No, it’s not. And I think the reason for this is that we humans are thinking too narrowly. There’s the gimmicky slogan “think globally, act locally.” I don’t like gimmicky slogans. But this one may have some wisdom in it. Might we be better served if we think globally about progress and then act locally? Is it enough to regulate industrial pollution if we disregard that this action might actually lead to greater global pollution? Is protecting human rights within a nation’s borders enough if the culture demands human rights abuses beyond the nation’s borders in order to sustain the cultural lifestyle?

When I was talking with my mother I mentioned how the definition of who is owed rights under the United States constitution has broadened over the years. I already made reference to this earlier in this writing. At one time in American history some people were slaves and without rights. Women were denied the right to vote. As a nation we have broadened our consciousness. But have we broadened our consciousness enough? This is what I asked my mother and, in fact, myself. This is what I think. I think that until we are willing to extend basic rights to all of life we have failed. I don’t think it’s enough to say that citizens or people within this nation’s borders should be guaranteed rights. What about the people outside this nation’s borders? What about the Indonesian people working in textile factories making clothes for The Gap or Abercrombie & Fitch? They may work under terrible conditions to make clothes for you to wear. Should we not extend our guarantee of rights to those people? But I don’t think we should stop there. I told my mother that if I was nominated by one of the major political parties as their candidate for President of the United States and during one of the debates I said that all dogs should be given equal rights to humans that I would be laughed off stage. She agreed (that I would be laughed off stage.) But that’s one of the many reasons I am not likely to be nominated by one of the major political parties. I think dogs should be given the same rights as humans. I can see no reason why not. Cats too. And eagles. And frogs. And fish. And elephants. And gorillas. And every animal. But not just animals either. Every tree should be given equal rights. Every flower. Every river. Every stream. Every mountain. Every valley. Every cloud. The air itself.

This may seem ridiculous. How can we give a river rights? How can a frog vote? Well, I say that what’s ridiculous is that we don’t acknowledge the inherent rights of all of life. If we allowed cows and mosquitoes to vote then I think our situation might be a lot better than it is today. Maybe we wouldn’t clear cut if trees voted. Maybe we wouldn’t mine toxic materials if mountains voted.

I can hear you argue that none of these other forms of life can talk much less vote. Yet that doesn’t seem true to me. I think what is more true is that we just don’t know how to listen. Actually, that’s not true. We know how. We just ignore it. A tree speaks by its very presence. Stand in the presence of a tree. It is speaking. It doesn’t need words. It’s communication is much more direct. Ask the tree if you should cut it down. It will answer you. I’m of the opinion that trees are much more selfless than you or me. If you asked me if you could chop at me with an axe I would definitely say no. But if you ask a tree the tree might tell you to go get your axe. Or it might not. But we don’t ask. We don’t listen.

And how do all these other life forms vote? Again, they vote with their presence. But they also vote with there very nature. The trouble is that when a mountain votes it might require hundreds or thousands of years. We want faster voting. We’re impatient. But if we consult the mountains we might learn the value of patience. Look at our political system. Does fast voting seem to be working? Does anyone really think the American political system is working these days? Maybe fast voting isn’t the answer. Maybe the mountains have the right idea. Maybe we need to take more time to think things over first. Maybe we should have taken a few hundred thousand years to contemplate nuclear weapons before detonating them. Maybe we should have taken a few million years to contemplate the use of fossil fuels. That seems only fair considering it takes that long for fossil fuels to form. Maybe all our supposed progress is just an illusion. Maybe it’s just the effect of our hyperactive imaginations. Maybe if we slowed down the pace just a bit we might take the time to notice what’s really going on. Maybe some of the problems we’re trying to solve with all our “progress” would be seen to be the result of the “progress” itself. Maybe there’s a perfect order and balance already if we just stop mucking it up with our attempts to make it better. I think we ought to let the mountains vote from now on.

Yesterday I was visiting with a friend of mine, and as usual I was running off at the mouth about all sorts of gloom and doom topics. Friends of mine usually have to tolerate lots of conversations about things like ocean dead zones, nuclear waste, overpopulation, increasing extinction rates, etc. But these are typical topics of conversations among friends, right? Okay. Okay. I know. No one talks about these things. No one wants to have a friend who talks about these things. That’s why I don’t have many friends and why I’m grateful for the friends I have. At any rate, even the most tolerant of friends do eventually reach a breaking point. Yesterday at one point I was blabbing about how as a transition to a military-less society our government should use the military and the bright people in the defense industry to reverse desertification instead of trying to figure out how to bomb the hell out of everyone. My friend reached her breaking point. She said “Joey, you are just a negative asshole, and all you do is talk, and you’re part of the problem, not part of the solution.” Well, she’s way too nice to have really said that. That’s just what she should have said. But instead she said something more like “Normally I don’t like talking about these topics because I feel like there’s no point. But I enjoy talking to you about these things because you have a unique perspective and challenge my thinking. At the same time, though, I still feel frustrated because I feel that talking about these things does no good. Instead of talking it would be better to take action.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that. Actually, a reasonable, decent person wouldn’t argue with that. I’m neither reasonable nor decent. I argued. I said something to the effect of, “Perhaps, but change doesn’t always or often take place in one fell swoop. It’s organic and gradual most of the time. No doubt action is necessary too. But talking about these things may well be a part of the change too.” And I think there’s some validity to that argument. I know what she’s saying about the frustration of all talk and no walk. I feel that about myself quite often. I can talk about how nuclear waste is a problem until I’m blue in the face, but still I plug in my electrical devices which are powered by electricity from Vermont Yankee, a nuclear power plant just a few miles away in Vernon, Vermont. I’m part of the problem, not part of the solution. That’s how it feels. But I still think that change occurs gradually and through changing attitudes and thinking in people. Even when I’m talking with my friends who feel the same way as I do and it seems like we’re “preaching to the choir” there may still be value in those talks. Perhaps we bounce ideas off one another and motivate one another to take a look at what actions we might be able to take within our own lives. Maybe those conversations spill over and a little part of that conversation is shared with another friend or family member who doesn’t think the same way, and maybe that just causes them to think a little differently. I don’t know. But I’m not so quick to dismiss the possible value of talking. With that said, her point is really valid if all we ever do is talk and never take action. If everyone in the world agreed that nuclear waste is a problem but no one changed how we behave then the talking would have achieved nothing. It’s only valuable if the talking inspires change.

When my friend said that she thinks it’s better to take action I asked her what she meant by taking action. “Do you mean participating in a march or protest? Or do you mean blowing up a dam?” I mentioned these two options because at the moment they seemed to symbolize two extremes of the spectrum of possible action. One being essentially just loud talking and the other likely being illegal and dangerous. She put me in my place, though. I say that as if she was trying to make me feel foolish, but that’s not true. Again, she’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. But the simplicity and truth of what she said really rang true and stopped me in my tracks. She said (and I’m paraphrasing,) “I mean living simply.” And she’s right.

My friend went on to explain briefly how she had read a book called Radical Simplicity that had inspired her to live more simply. This book was written by someone named Jim Merkel. Jim’s story is that he was an engineer working in “defense”, building computers for the military. At the moment of one of his career victories (they had just built a fantastic new computer system for the military) he saw the breaking news report about the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska, which is to this day one of the worst oil spills in history. The tanker hit the reef and spilled nearly 11 million gallons of crude oil into the ocean, causing unbelievable ecological damage. The story goes that for Jim this was a wake-up call. The official story blamed Exxon for the disaster, but Jim realized that every one of us was complicit in the disaster because it was our lifestyles that necessitated the Valdez in the first place.

The Valdez disaster was the first of several wake-up calls that pushed Jim in a different direction in his life. He began to investigate what he could do differently. He started donating to environmental organizations. But when it wasn’t until he read an Amnesty International report that cited human rights abuses in countries where he was peddling his military computer that he took a radical new direction. He quit the career he had had for decades because he didn’t want to support war. But he took it a step further. He decided to figure out how he could live on less than 5,000 USD a year because that way he would not be required to pay income tax. In his way of thinking that also enabled him to lend less support to the United States in its military spending.

Eventually Jim read a book called Our Ecological Footprint, which describes how the land required for our lifestyles is not always immediately visible. That is because the land required for our lifestyles may not be just the land we live on. It also includes land required for growing crops, for manufacturing products, for extracting minerals, metals, and oil, for landfills, etc. According to the information in Jim’s Website the average American has an ecological footprint of 24 acres. Jim decided to reduce his ecological footprint to 3 acres. (Note that it seems that since the time those values were reported there have been significant changes in how ecological footprints are calculated, and the actual number of acres may be much greater than previously reported. But for the moment we’ll go with the 24 and 3 numbers.)

How did Jim reduce his footprint to 3 acres? Well, I guess you have to read Radical Simplicity to find out all the details. However, here are a few changes he made. He reduced his electricity usage such that his average monthly electricity bill is 9 USD. He bikes almost everywhere (he’s also a competitive bikers.) He grows a portion of his own food on his land. And he decided to switch to a vegan diet when he ran the numbers and decided it was much more ecologically sound.

Before I say anything more, I want to say that I really applaud Jim. His sort of dedication seems to be a rarity these day. He decided to walk the walk. Jim’s ecological footprint is much less than mine. Jim inspires many people. Jim inspired my friend to simplify her life. And by inspiring her I have been inspired too as she passed along the information. I think what Jim is doing is really important and it’s a great step in the right direction.

I’ve read a few articles about Jim Merkel on the Internet, and the comments from readers are all over the map. Some readers of the articles seem very inspired to take steps to simplify their own lives and reduce their own ecological footprints. Other readers are just critical. They say things like “Well, that’s fine for an engineer who has saved up a few hundred thousand dollars and owns land to live on 5000 a year, but what about the average schmuck?” I suppose this is a valid critique in the context of the articles I read. However, not having read Jim’s book yet I don’t necessarily know that he’s advocating for everyone to immediately live on 5000 a year. I would assume that the recommendation is to begin to take steps to find out how to live more frugally, buying less of the things you don’t need and learning how to buy more responsibly.

Now, I’ll remind you again that I was really positive up to this point in today’s writing, and if what follows sounds negative and doom and gloom then just remember that it’s balanced by the positive writing that preceded it. Here’s what happened. After reading some of the content on Jim’s organization’s site, www.radicalsimplicity.org, I clicked over to the recommended site for calculating my own ecological footprint, which is www.myfootprint.org. Normally I don’t like these sorts of things. They seem too gimmicky. But I decided to take the quiz anyway. My score? Honestly, I found it a little difficult to understand at first because the quiz said my ecological footprint is about 158 acres, which seemed way higher than what I was expecting if the average American’s footprint is 24 acres. That was until I read the FAQ on the site and found that the calculations have changed since the 24 figure was reported…quite dramatically. If you care to read the description of how the calculations changed (http://www.rprogress.org/publications/2006/RefiningEF_2006.pdf) you’ll understand why the changes are as dramatic as they are. Simply put, as I understand it, one of the major factors is that all possible ways in which all possible areas of the earth’s surface might be required by humans are now factored in, whereas previously only a small percentage of the earth’s surface was even factored in. As a result the numbers are much, much larger. The average American’s ecological footprint according to the new calculations is about 245 acres. That’s embarrassing, as is my score of 158 acres.

I want to reiterate that I see the ecological footprint quiz merely as an interesting (albeit gimmicky) indicator. Can I rely on those figures? Do I really require 158 acres for my lifestyle? Maybe. But it might be less or it might be more. I cannot really know. It’s just an interesting measure and hopefully it makes me think about the possible impact I have.

But here’s what really struck me as interesting and a bit depressing about what I read. According to the quiz if everyone on the planet lived my current lifestyle then humanity would require just over 4 earths to meet the demands of humanity. But it gets worse. According to the old numbers that they published (where they average American’s footprint was 24 acres) the sustainable footprint for all people would need to be 1 acre. If Jim Merkel reduced his footprint to 3 acres, he was still over the allotted footprint by 200%. And that is when he’s living “radically simply”. The average American isn’t living that simply, and the average American doesn’t even seem to have interest in living in a manner that even approaches that sort of simplicity. You might point out that the United States only accounts for a fraction of the planet’s population, and that the populations of countries like China and India probably have lower footprints and would therefore offset our footprints in the “developed world”. That is true. But it’s not good enough. In China, again using the old numbers, the average footprint is 4 acres, which is four times the allowable footprint for sustainability. And in India the average footprint is 2 acres, twice the allowable footprint. According to the old calculations the world-wide average footprint is 5.6 acres, which means we’d require 5.6 earths to sustain our population living as they do currently. That doesn’t even account for population growth.

These sorts of figures can be really depressing. What chance to we have when faced with these daunting numbers. If my footprint is somewhere around 15 times the allowable footprint for sustainability then I’ve got a lot of work to do. But then this just hits home the point my friend was making. To make real change I’ve got to start at home. I better start reducing my footprint. It’s all fine for me to talk the talk. I can hold to my ideology until the end of time, but if I don’t take action then there’s no point. Yes, it might be true that what we need is a global lifestyle simplification much more radical than even Jim Merkel is living. Yet if I refuse to take even a step until all of humanity wakes up and makes the leap to something as “radical” as primitivism then I’ll be waiting until the entire system crashes around me with no refuge. It’s better to hold to the vision, but take necessary steps. There’s danger in falling into the trap of thinking that the baby steps in and of themselves are all that is required. I don’t want to be lulled into thinking that turning out lights when I’m not in the room or lowering my thermostat is enough. But I also realize that I sure as hell better do those things. And then just don’t stop there.

This writing is an inquiry about spirituality and civilization. Is our current popular understanding of spirituality correct or inherently true? Or is it possible that civilization has created a mistaken identity which has corrupted our experience of spirituality into a search for something instead of the simple joy of pure experiencing? Or, did the mistake in identity happen first, and is that the causative factor that both corrupted our understanding of spirituality and set the conditions for the creation of civilization? Is civilization merely the result of a mistaken identity?

I’m interested in understanding what spirituality is. It seems to me that popularly we think of spirituality as the relationship that an individual has directly with the divine, however he or she might think of that. For a Christian their spirituality might be experienced through prayer expressed directly to their God. For a Buddhist their spirituality might be experienced through meditation. For a Hindu their spirituality might be experienced through personal rituals intended to communicate or appease particular aspects of the divine. For a new age wiccan spirituality might be experienced through personal rituals intended to commune with nature. These are just examples of my understanding of possible ways that people of different beliefs might experience spirituality as we understand the concept popularly.

Often spirituality is understood to be in contrast or as a complement to religion. Religion, as I understand it, is composed of institutions, hierarchies, dogmas, theologies, collective rituals, etc. Religion provides structure, rules, boundaries, moral codes, etc. Religion provides community. Religion is extra-personal. I say extra-personal instead of impersonal because religion is still all about the individual. It’s just that religion is concerned about how the individual should behave and think relative to other individuals and the religion’s own interpretation of god.

It seems to me that religion does not presuppose spirituality. It is entirely possible, therefore, that there might be many people who would identify themselves as religious, but not necessarily spiritual. For example, I bet we all know many people who are culturally religious, but have no concern for the spiritual (for a personal relationship with the divine.) For these people attending services and participating in the religious community provides them with an identity, and that is all they require.

On the other hand, many people may well consider themselves religious and spiritual. These are people who attend services and cultivate a personal relationship with the divine according to their faith and personal beliefs. This is also a common scenario. We probably all know people who attend church services and also wish to pray for us. Although not always the case, often it seems that people who consider themselves religious and spiritual find it difficult to make a distinction between the religion and the spirituality since the beliefs and practices of one are closely related to the beliefs and practices of the other.

There is yet another possibility, though. More and more often these days we hear people identify themselves as spiritual but not religious. For these people, it seems, the structure and rules and dogma and such of religion holds little appeal. However, they have a sense that there is value in cultivating a personal relationship with the divine.

What interests me, however, is that in each of these scenarios the fundamental assumption is one of separation. In each case the assumption is that there is an individual apart from the divine. Religion is concerned with the conduct of the individual. Spirituality is concerned with a personal relationship with the divine. Both assume that there is someone separate who needs to either be controlled or who needs to relate to the divine. But is this assumption correct? And why do we make this assumption? Is this assumption natural? Or is it a conditioned assumption?

I’d actually like to consider a different possibility. I’d like to consider a different way of understanding spirituality. What if we define spirituality as the unconditioned state? What is the experience of spirituality then? Is it possible that spirituality is entirely non-conceptual? Is spirituality the simple fact of this very moment? Before following a thought what is our experience? Is there any separation right now? Is separation merely a thought that says there is separation? Before I label you and me are there any such things, or is there just pure is-ness? As is-ness can we even find an individual that can have a relationship with the divine? Can we even find the divine apart from is-ness? In this context doesn’t the whole notion of spirituality as the relationship between the individual and the divine fall apart?

My next question is this. Does is-ness require anything? Does is-ness lack or need anything? Does is-ness evolve? It would seem that in the story of humanity there are humans that have needs. Humans need water, air, food, love, etc. I’m curious, though, does a human in an unconditioned state require a view of him or herself as separate in order to meet these basic needs? Most of us seem to have a sense of separation, and we seem to view that sense of separation as necessary in order to meet basic needs. But is this merely a mistake in identity that is the reinforced by the abstract nature of civilization? For example, for most people there is a sense of cause and effect in order to meet basic needs. If you want to eat then you need to buy food. If you want to buy food you have to have money. If you want to have money you have to earn a wage. If you want to earn a wage you have to develop marketable skills. This seemingly creates a lot of abstraction. Satisfying the basic need to eat appears to require a great deal of preparation and thought and effort and concentration. We fear that if we don’t work hard and stay focused and morally upright in life then we’ll end up toothless on the streets, begging incoherently. But is that true? Is all that abstraction really true? Is a sense of separation really necessary? This is a good question to ponder, I think.

In an unconditioned state would a person have to be self-aware to meet basic needs? Does a gorilla need to be self-aware in order to eat? I’m not an expert on gorillas. I can’t tell you the answer. But my observations of wild animals seem to indicate to me that they are capable of eating much as we breathe or as our hearts beat. It doesn’t require self-aware thought. It would seem reflexive. Is that what really happens for all of us, but we’ve just layered conceptual thought on top of the actuality?

We humans think of ourselves as the ultimate goal of evolution. We assume we are inherently superior to all other animals. We assume we are more intelligent. But here’s a puzzle. Why is it that bears don’t eat all the fish from a river? Is it just that they are bad at fishing? Or is it because they have an innate intelligence that regulates balance? On the other hand, we humans have apparently killed off 90% of the big fish in the oceans. Is our mistaken sense of separation that which has thrown everything out of balance? Is it that the assumption that we exist separate from everything else that which allows us to act without regard for that innate intelligence which is capable of regulating balance?

Here’s another angle on this whole notion of separation. When I was conceived I was formed from two cells, one from my mother and one from my father. Over time the cells multiplied, drawing nutrients and building blocks from the food and water and air my mother metabolized. Once I was born my body continued to grow using substances gained through food, water, and air I metabolized. But if I stop and notice for a moment, what part of “me” can I really claim? What part of it is really me? Everything is from someone or something else. Furthermore, at what point does my begin and the environment end? Is it at my skin? But don’t I sweat? Is the sweat me or not me? Is the air that I’ve just inhaled into my lungs me or not? What about the water I drink? How is this body really separate from the environment? We draw arbitrary boundaries and call it “me”. But it’s just for convenience.

Now my question is, do the modern popular understanding of spirituality and religion both occur as a result of this shift away from the unconditioned state to one of self-aware conceptualization? And just because we seem to be self-aware, does that really mean there is a self, or is it merely a self-referencing thought that we assume is true? What is the relationship between civilization and the corruption of our understanding of spirituality? In an unconditioned state do humans create civilization or is civilization the creation of a sense of separation, a mistaken identity? Is civilization the result of the idea that there’s something wrong, something missing, something lacking that we can find through effort, morality, and order? Isn’t that the message of civilization? If we work together then somehow we’ll reach the next stage of evolution in which we’ll no longer be imperfect and fallen from grace?

I’m interested in knowing something, though. Do other animals have this problem? Do zebras have a sense that they are lacking somehow? Do hawks feel they’ve fallen from grace? Is it that humans are somehow special, or is it that we’re the only ones foolish enough to miss the obvious, which is that separation is a dream and not the reality. How could a shark feel she has fallen from grace when grace is all there is and she is one with that? This is a non-conceptual understanding. Sharks are either blessed that they cannot think conceptually or they are wise enough not to believe conceptual thought if they are capable. Humans, on the other hand, seem fascinated with conceptual thought to the point that we’ve seemingly blinded ourselves to the completely obvious.

There is a concept called rewilding. This refers to reintroducing a captive animal to its wild and natural existence. There are groups of people who are interested in rewilding themselves. They see humanity as being mostly captive. We’ve held ourselves captive. And these people are interested in how to reintroduce themselves to their wild and natural existence. What that means is difficult to know. What is a human’s natural existence? Are we agrarians? Or are we pre-agrarians by nature? Do we use sophisticated tools or not? Do we have complex language or not? I don’t know. Maybe no one knows. I’m just curious in the context of this writing about what the natural existence of humans means for our relationship with spirituality. It seems to me that a wolf in the wild is inherently perfectly spiritual according to my understanding of spirituality. The wolf knows no separation. A tree knows no separation. A tree is perfectly spiritual. Is our departure from our natural existence a result of our misunderstanding of spirituality, a corruption of wholeness into separation? Or did that mistaken identity follow as a result of our move into captivity? Does rewilding necessarily restore a proper sense of wholeness and balance? Or is the seeing-through of separation a prerequisite for rewilding? I don’t know.

At the risk of sounding like a joyless asshole yet again, I’m going to write a few thoughts about hybrid vehicles. Hybrid vehicles are a bit of a pet peeve for me. (I really do sound like a crotchety old fart, don’t I? Oh well.) Here’s why. I feel like hybrid vehicles pacify many people’s concerns about the environmental damage caused by cars specifically and modern civilization in general. But I think that the relief that a hybrid owner and the public might feel is unwarranted. I’m concerned that hybrid vehicles are not much better, and perhaps not better at all that their non-hybrid counterparts. And so the result is that a large percentage of the population is distracted from what ought to be real concern and a call to take real, meaningful action to stop the truly awesome (and I use that term not to with a positive connotation) environmental degradation and outright destruction we’re causing as a species. My intent isn’t to say that hybrid vehicles or cars in general are the only problem. In fact, cars may not really be a problem at all, but rather just a symptom of the real problems, which are largely cultural mindsets and spiritual bankruptcy. But as long as we are placated and distracted by hybrid vehicles (or anything else) we aren’t likely to face the real problems. We’re more likely to continue on with business as usual. And business as usual, if you believe your own eyes and/or the growing numbers of reports, is not leading us on a good path. My intention in this post is not to bash hybrids. Rather my intention is to question what we think we know about hybrids and about technology in general. I’d like to question the conventional thinking. I’d like to look at the topic with fresh eyes. I’d like to rekindle common sense.

Before I even start to address my specific concerns about hybrid vehicles, I’d like to say that I fully realize that many of the details I’m going to mention initially miss the real point entirely. But don’t worry. I’ll get to the real point eventually. I just think it’s good to address these issues on several levels. As long as we believe that hybrid cars will save the planet then we might not be willing to take a step back and look at the larger context.

We all have seen the hybrids. Hell, you might own one yourself. We’ve heard the hype. And we may have even felt ashamed or guilty if we were still driving a non-hybrid. The marketing is brilliant. It’s tremendously effective. Hybrid cars aren’t just a solution, we’re told, they’re a way of life. Driving a hybrid vehicles says something about you. It says you care. As soon as you own a hybrid you are part of the environmentalist club. You’re saving the planet. That’s the marketing message. Meanwhile, I’m driving around my cargo van that gets 15 mpg. I should feel awful. I should feel ashamed. The marketing is so effective because it subtly shifts our focus away from honest inquiry into what we can do as a people to save the planet, and it instead shifts it to a social focus. “Am I as green as my neighbor?” That’s what we start thinking instead of more honest thoughts like “Maybe I could grow my own food and save on driving to the store.”

But is a hybrid vehicle that much more environmentally friendly? This is a difficult question to answer. Like so many things in this world it’s difficult to know who to trust. There’s just a lot of spin. Everyone has an agenda, it seems. And tracing the sources of a lot of the stories is difficult or impossible. How many of the negative reports about the Prius are secretly funded by Ford or GM to try to weaken Toyota’s foothold? How much of the positive reports are secretly funded by Toyota? We may never know. All we can do is read the reports and try to make sense of them as best we can.

We can start by looking at the negative reports. There was a very intriguing story that was picked up by a handful of news agencies and lots of bloggers that made the rather audacious claim that the lifetime energy use and cost of a Hummer was less than that of a Toyota Prius. This story was based on reports from CNW Marketing Research (you can read about CNW at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CNW_Marketing_Research, where you’ll also see a short synopsis of the contested report they wrote.) You can read one example of that story at http://clubs.ccsu.edu/recorder/editorial/print_item.asp?NewsID=188, and you can see the original reports at http://www.cnwmr.com/nss-folder/automotiveenergy. The primary claim of the story is that the specialized materials required for the manufacture of the Prius battery extract a terrible environmental toll, far exceeding that of the manufacture of non-hybrid cars. Specifically the claim is that the mining of nickel for the battery has created a vast dead zone and that the nickel, once mined, has to be flown all around the world many times to various points of manufacture, increasing the carbon footprint of the Prius. Then, the story claims that additional energy costs are required for the specialized recycling of the vehicle at the end of life. The story compares the lifetime numbers for a Hummer and a Prius, claiming that a Hummer has less environmental impact and costs less over a lifetime. This is a story that environmentalists would love if it were true. Is it true? Well, like I said, we may never know. But for the sake of fairness I’ll offer the rebuttal as well.

The rebuttal to the negative story about the Prius is generally one of two options. In many cases Toyota simply refutes the numbers and claims in the reports. For example, they say that the story claims that Toyota is responsible for all of the destruction due to nickel mining whereas they are only purchasing a fraction of all nickel mined. The next option for rebuttal is to cite the GREET (Greenhouse gasses, Regulated Emissions, and Energy used in Transportation) model (see http://www.transportation.anl.gov/modeling_simulation/GREET/ for more details on the GREET model) to demonstrate that the actual energy used by a Prius over its lifetime is much lower than claimed by the CNW report. According to the GREET model rebuttal the actual lifetime energy use of a Hummer H2 is ~1737 mmBTU and the actual lifetime energy use of a Prius is ~434 mmBTU. As you might expect, these numbers are contested as well. Many claim that these numbers don’t factor in important considerations. We may never know the truth about this.

But the real question is, does any of this even matter? Are we focusing on silly details that distract us from more important considerations? Here’s something to consider. According to the Institute for Lifecycle Environmental Assessment (ILEA) the manufacture of a vehicle requires 119,755 MJ (megajoules) of energy compared with 878,132 MJ of energy for lifetime fuel usage. Even if a hybrid vehicle could reduce lifetime fuel usage by half it would still have a baseline of 119,755 MJ for manufacture plus over 400,000 MJ of energy for fuel usage. Therefore, even allowing for the best case scenario a hybrid vehicle is only reducing an already awesome energy requirement. But wait, if that was all there was to it then it might not be that bad. Maybe hybrid vehicles would be a net positive in that case. But energy use is only a fraction of the environmental impact. According to ILEA the carbon dioxide emissions of a hybrid vehicle are still quite significant. We also have to consider that regardless of energy use or carbon dioxide emissions there are still other factors. For example, the manufacture of a vehicle still requires the mining of metals and minerals, which has a devastating impact on the environment. Oh, and the manufacture of vehicles still requires the existence of factories, which means that large tracts of land are not available to plants and animals and for rain to fall on the ground. This list could go on. My point is that I think that when we argue about exactly how fuel efficient a hybrid vehicle is or is not we are ignoring the rest of the information we need to consider.

It seems to me that the hybrid vehicle debate makes some really fundamental assumptions that very rarely ever questioned. The most striking assumption in the debate is that we must have motorized vehicles. The debate is entirely based on this assumption. It is a two-sided debate. One side argues that hybrid vehicles are better than conventional vehicles and the other side argues that they are worse, or at least no better. (And this is basically still true even if we add fully electric vehicles to the picture too.) What’s lost in the debate is whether or not either or any type of motorized vehicle is actually sustainable. This actually reminds me of a comment I made in yesterday’s writing when I said that it occurs to me that really close to sustainable isn’t good enough. Only complete sustainability is good enough in a very real sense. Therefore, a debate about which type of motorized vehicle is better or worse actually is completely irrelevant if the actual goal is a move to real sustainability. Even if we can make a vehicle that uses only one hundredth of the energy and pollutes only a hundredth of today’s vehicles, is that good enough? I don’t know the answer to that question (though I have my own feeling about it, which you can probably guess.) However, I think these are better questions for us to ask instead of whether the Prius is more energy efficient than a Hummer. As long as we’re caught up in those distractions can we really make significant progress to real sustainability? Can we even know what is possible and not possible in a truly sustainable society with truly sustainable technology if we are caught up debating Prius versus Hummer (or which celebrity gossip is most interesting…but that’s a different story.)

We ought to be asking ourselves what technologies are actually sustainable, and we ought to make a real effort to scale back to that. I know that’s not what anyone really wants to do at this point. But it seems to me that if you’re driving a car (a hybrid car, even) straight toward the edge of a cliff it might be better to stop before going over the edge. Once you stop, back up, take a moment to gain perspective, then perhaps you can reset your course and avoid going over the cliff. But to continue full speed ahead all the while insisting that the only solution is to figure out how to fly before you reach the cliff’s edge is a bit foolish. And yet it seems to me that’s what we’re doing. We’re going straight for the edge of the cliff. We’re closing our eyes and flapping our arms and hoping against hope that it will work. But why not just stop for a minute? Are we afraid that if we just pause we’ll lose anything valuable? It doesn’t have to be an immediate braking on all fronts either. But couldn’t we just at least take the foot of the accelerator?

What technologies are sustainable? It’s a good question. I don’t know. I think we ought to have a serious dialog about this, though. Are cars sustainable? Forget about the possible future of cars. I’m talking about today. If we can make advances in car technology to create truly sustainable cars then great. But if cars aren’t sustainable between now and then, what are we thinking to continue to manufacture and use them? Isn’t that insane? Are computers, iPods, cell phones, or refrigerators sustainable? What about washing machines? What about boats? What about pens and paper? What about tractors? What about axes? What about wrenches? Can we just have a serious dialog about this? Can we scale back to what is sustainable and then set a course from there? Or are we willing to go right over the cliff edge knowing full well that gravity will be in effect?

And how can we determine what is sustainable and what is not? Well, I think there are two primary means we have available to us in this endeavor. One is science and one is intuition. Both are important and useful in this investigation. The problem is that neither will help us as long as we refuse to commit to an honest investigation. As long as we hope against hope that we’ll actually be able to fly, as long as our foot is on the accelerator, can we be honest in our inquiry? Won’t our conclusions always be biased? It’s a difficult situation because we seemingly have a lot invested in continuing on the same path. If we take our foot off the accelerator then people might lose their jobs. Things might be difficult. But if we can be honest for even just a second we can see that losing your job may well be inevitable. It’s just that in one scenario (the better of the two scenarios) you lose your job, but there’s still the possibility of having clean (clean enough, at least) air and drinking water. There might still be the possibility of charting a new course. The other scenario is one in which you lose your job, but there’s famine, drought in some regions and flooding in others (and no clean drinking water in either case,) and all you can do is flap your arms and hope we can fly. I know that’s a dramatic way to put it. But if we can see it in these terms then we see that we may be faced with difficult times, but the actual choices aren’t that difficult. I guess human nature is in the way, though. It’s the old “your money or your life” scenario. Either way the mugger is going to get your money. The only difference is that in one case you hand over the money voluntarily and in the other scenario the mugger pries the money from your dead hands. We don’t want to hand over our money. But it’s utterly insane not to hand it over voluntarily. Nothing is gained by holding on to the money. Nothing is gained by holding on to our technology blindly. I’m not anti-technology. I’m just saying that perhaps it’s time we opened our eyes and told the truth about what technology we can hold on to without sacrificing our lives and the lives of the countless other species of plants and animals on this planet. The rest of the technology that isn’t yet sustainable might just need to be placed on hold for a while. We might find that it’s only cars we need to give up for a while (though this seems doubtful to me) or we might find that we need to give up all technology other than sharpened rocks. Or the answer might be somewhere in the middle. But until we are willing to be honest about it we’ll never know.

There is an organization here in southern Vermont called Post Oil Solutions. From their Web site they state that their mission is “to advance cooperative, sustainable communities in an age of global climate change and declining fossil fuels.” This group organizes farmers markets and workshops. From my limited experience with the group I mostly like them. I think what they are doing is important. And it’s fantastic that they are building a community in the area of like-minded people.

Two weekends ago I attended a workshop they organized on the topic of seed saving. It was very inspirational. Seed saving is an important art, and one that has been lost to many over the years with the advent of seed companies. Not only is seed saving important for reducing the use of fossil fuels for packaging and transporting seeds long distances, but it also allows us to acclimate plants to our regions. Rather than buying seeds from plants that were grown in California, for example, I can save seeds from a garden I plant in Vermont. Over time this will produce plants that are better suited for this region. I could go on and on about the advantages of seed saving, and perhaps I will write another post one day about that topic. That is not what I want to focus on in this post, however. I mentioned the seed saving workshop because I really enjoyed it, and I’d like to contrast that with the workshop I attended today.

Today I attended a workshop on the topic of seed starting. To be entirely honest, I didn’t know exactly what the angle was going to be in the workshop. Had I known I suppose I might not have been as disappointed by the workshop. To say I was disappointed isn’t quite right. I learned a lot from the workshop in many ways. Not only did I learn about the ideas the presenters shared with us, but I also learned a lot about myself, my ideas, and what I value. This is good. But I was a bit dismayed at the ideas the presenters shared. Had I been attending a workshop run by conventional gardeners, one sponsored by Home Depot or something like that, then I would have set my expectations appropriately. And I don’t want to say that the presenters in today’s workshop were advocating the same sorts of things I would expect at a Home Depot-sponsored event. It’s just that they weren’t advocating anything that I would have really considered sustainable. Remember that Post Oil Solutions states that they want to advance sustainable communities. Therefore I had an expectation that the presenters would be sharing ideas that lead to sustainability, or at least qualifying unsustainable ideas. But that wasn’t the case.

As a novice gardener I didn’t necessarily know what was meant by seed starting. I thought that perhaps they were going to talk about setting optimal conditions in the soil for starting plants from seeds. I also thought they might talk about when to plant different types of plants in our region. Keep in mind that Vermont is cold and has a relatively short growing season. Therefore, the actual presentation was about how to start seeds indoors before the ground thaws. This seems reasonable enough. I was interested in what the presenters had to say.

Oh, and I should mention here that the presenters are gardeners with a great deal of training and life experience, and they are learned in biodynamic principles and seem to be committed to gardening in a healthy and natural way.

What are the recommendations the presenters shared with us? You’ll need containers, trays, a potting mix, trays, lights, and heaters. Containers and trays you can improvise from scavenged, donated, or reused materials. That part doesn’t pose any problems. However, the potting mix is where I started to notice that I had thoughts of resistance to what they were saying. The presenters said that using garden soil will not work because it contains too many bacteria and such that might kill the seeds/plants. They said that instead you must use a potting mix composed of vermiculite, perlite, and peat moss, with the possible addition of compost. In case you don’t know what vermiculite, perlite, or peat moss are, I’ll explain.

Vermiculite is a mineral. That means it is mined. As you may well know by now, I don’t think mining is a good idea. I think mining is devastating to the environment on many levels. To make matters worse, it seems to me from my limited research on vermiculite that the majority of vermiculite is from South Africa, China, and Brazil. If the vermiculite sold in the United States is from those countries then it means that lots of fossil fuels were used to transport the vermiculite. And, to further complicate things, there has been some controversy over asbestos being detected with vermiculite. Additionally, vermiculite is heated for horticulture use because the heating causes the mineral to expand, increasing its water absorption properties. The application of heat to vermiculite also requires energy.

Perlite is also a mineral, which means it too must be mined. Perlite also must be heated to obtain the properties needed for horticulture use.

Peat moss is an organic and natural substance. It is the result of decomposed sphagnum moss. What is the problem with peat moss then? Well, peat moss takes thousands of years to form. The rate at which humans are harvesting peat moss makes it a non-renewable resource. We are depleting the reserves of peat moss.

At one point one of the presenters also mentioned using coconut coir, which is the “waste” product from coconut husks, in place of vermiculite, perlite, and peat moss. This seemed to get a lot of interest from the audience because it was seen as a “greener” option. In many ways that might be true. But last I looked coconuts don’t grow in Vermont. That means that even if you disregard the environmental toll due to commercial coconut growing, harvesting, and processing, there’s also the fact that coconut coir has to be transported thousands of miles to arrive in Vermont (usually in neat plastic containers.)

The lights and heaters were recommended, but neither of the presenters seemed to think lights and heaters were absolutely necessary for seed starting (unless you keep the temperature in your house at 40 degrees Fahrenheit and you’re trying to grow the plants in a basement with no windows.) For that reason I won’t harp on this point. But I will just say that I find the recommendation to use lights and heaters a bit odd from a group whose mission statement specifically references the declining availability of fossil fuels.

Do I sound like a curmudgeon critiquing something like this? I guess I’m just writing about this because I find it odd how we’re all so conditioned to think of our mainstream lifestyle standard (two cars, suburban house, food from the store, etc.) as acceptable or somehow normal that it’s difficult for us to see our blind spots. I think the presenters at today’s workshop have very noble intentions. They practice many organic and biodynamic principles in their own gardening, and they want to help local people learn to grow their own food locally. They want to help people reduce their dependence on the agriculture industry. They want to help make food local. They want to restore our sense of being a part of the natural world. They want to foster community. The presenters aren’t offering the workshop to get rich (the fee for the workshops is very modest.) I know they mean well. And in many ways they are providing a great service to the community. They seem like good people. They are light years ahead of the average American in terms of achieving sustainability. And yet, my concern is that being close to sustainable isn’t good enough. Even if we get really, really, really, really close to being sustainable we’ll still lose. It might just slow the crash. But anything short of 100% sustainability won’t work. And by definition I would say that using vermiculite, perlite, and peat moss is unsustainable. And, as I realized during the workshop, the very notion of seed starting (as defined for the purposes of the workshop) is actually unsustainable. I realized that if you need to start seeds “early” in your warm house or in a greenhouse then you’re trying to grow something that is not designed to grow in your climate. For example, you cannot grow eggplant in Vermont if you plant the seed directly in the garden. Well, that’s not correct. You can grow eggplant. But you cannot expect a yield of eggplants. Eggplant needs a longer growing season that Vermont can provide. Gardeners in Vermont who want to grow eggplant start the seeds early indoors and then perhaps later move the plants to a greenhouse once it’s warm enough but not yet warm enough to plant them in the garden. In this way we can artificially increase the growing season. But I can now see that the only way we can extend the growing season is through the use of fossil fuels (to heat the house consistently, to import growing mediums, etc.)

At one point during the workshop one woman asked the presenters how she could start tomatoes without having to use heaters and lights because, in her words, she doesn’t “think that gardening should increase [her] carbon footprint.” I agree with her. And I think her intentions are noble. What is interesting, however, is that we’ve all been so blinded that it didn’t seem like anyone in the room even noticed that the very act of gardening as advocated by seemingly almost all gardeners in this country will increase your carbon footprint. In this case we’ve already seen how the use of vermiculite, perlite, and peat moss can increase your carbon footprint.

Perhaps, then, we’re left where we always are left with these situations. We are left with a realization that all of the supposed “progress” and “advancement” of the past two hundred years has been a weird anomaly, and completely unsustainable. We thought that we’d unlocked the secret that would allow humans to live as gods on the planet. But we were wrong. Only if a way of life works for thousands of years can we even begin to claim that it is sustainable. We need to look back to what wisdom is still available from cultures that have existed in a sustainable fashion. We need to use this wisdom rather than continuing to be deluded by the glitz and glitter of supposed modern advances.

I’m now increasingly interested in reclaiming traditional wisdom. Can we learn to appreciate nature’s bounty instead of trying to improve upon nature all the time? Can we learn to work in harmony with nature? Can we shift our consciousness as a people to one in which sustainability is not about what we have to sacrifice in order to do the “tight thing”, but instead it’s about tuning in to the overflowing joy available at every moment if only we are willing to listen?

I have a long-standing interest in understanding the optimal human diet. I should explain here, though, that by optimal I don’t just mean that which allows the human system to function optimally apart from its environment (though I do mean that as well.) I also mean that which allows the human to interact with its environment optimally, maintaining balance and harmony. I’m even willing to consider the possibility that the optimal diet could allow the human to interact with its environment not just in a neutral manner, but that it could potentially allow the human to have a positive effect on its environment. In fact, I hope this is true because we have created such a tremendous imbalance in our environment that if we stand a chance of survival as a species it seems to me that we must do better than maintain balance, but we need to restore balance.

I would say that my serious interest in optimal diet started around age 18 when I learned about raw food diets. I read a handful of books that advocated for a raw vegan diet as the optimal diet. The arguments were persuasive, especially at age 18. I experimented with this diet for some time. To be honest, my recollection of this time is a bit cloudy, and I couldn’t tell you exactly how long my experiment lasted, though it was certainly more than a month and less than a year. I do know that I ate considerable amounts (as much as I could) of raw fruits and vegetables as well as nuts and seeds, sprouted legumes and grains, and fermented vegetables and seeds. I lost a great deal of weight. I had no energy. Living on a large university campus involved a lot of biking and walking, and I recall the daily struggles to bike, and eventually even walking up one flight of stairs exhausted me. To be fair, I must also admit that I may have exacerbated the situation through moderate fasts. Much of the raw food propaganda claims that symptoms such as fatigue and weight loss are due to detoxification and that fasting can accelerate the detoxification. I followed the advice and attempted a few moderate fasts. I am around 6 feet tall, and at the point where I sought out help to determine why I was so fatigued all the time I weighed 123 pounds. I have never been one for weighing myself, and therefore I couldn’t tell you what my weight had been previously, but I would assume it was at least 145-150 pounds. Looking back on this time I can only say that it is shocking how I could have been so invested in the raw food lifestyle that I could have been blinded to such dramatic weight loss. I really had no clue at the time. I was honestly puzzled by the fatigue.

Although my experiment with raw foods at that time seemingly failed, I never lost my interest or sympathies with the raw food message. In many ways it just makes sense. As far as I know humans are the only animals that choose to cook their food. Of the countless species on the planet, many of which thrive and seem to experience fantastic health, we are the only ones to cook our food. That seems very striking to me. And that argument, perhaps more than any other argument, is what makes the raw food diet most intriguing and appealing to me. It seems the most natural. If the rest of nature lives in one way and we are the only aberration then it does seem logical that perhaps we are the ones in error. It’s sort of like the “which of these doesn’t belong” game from Sesame Street. Take a step back and it seems rather obvious that we humans are doing something wrong. And yet, my initial experiment with raw foods failed quite miserably. The raw food propaganda claims that raw food promotes vibrant health. I experienced the opposite.

I returned to veganism, though perhaps with a growing interest and commitment to organic and whole foods. I’d say that this commitment to organic and whole foods continued to evolve over the next several years, and by around 2002-2003 or thereabouts I had staked out a fairly overwhelming commitment to these principles, though over the years I have wavered back and forth between the inclusion of dairy and eggs. Over time, however, I have decided that the commercial dairy and egg industries, even the organic ones, are environmentally unsustainable and unnecessarily cruel to animals. I’m not opposed to dairy and eggs on principle. If one can source raw dairy from hand-milked, pasture-fed cows then I don’t see that as problematic. However, as soon as the cows are milked by machines and the milk is pasteurized and homogenized and distributed and such then it is environmentally damaging, and the cows are viewed as commodities rather than as our brothers and sisters. And grain-fed cows pose the same sorts of problems. The devastating numbers we’ve probably all seen regarding how many acres and how much water is required to produce the grain to feed a cow to produce a liter of milk demonstrate the environmental toll of such practices. But cows that are allowed to feed on pasture don’t necessarily create the same catastrophe. Furthermore, pasture-fed cow’s milk is considerably higher in nutrients than grain-fed cow’s milk. Butter from pasture-fed cows may turn deep yellow from the large amounts of beta-carotene, for example.

As I said previously, my interest in raw foods never disappeared. I returned to raw foods on several occasions over the years, though never with the same zeal as my original attempt. In ever case I was much more modest in my experiments, sometimes simply trying to increase my ratio of fresh, raw foods. In every case thus far, however, I have noticed similar (though not as dramatic) results as my first experiment. I would feel more fatigued, less clear in my thinking, weaker, etc.

If anything, though, my failed attempts at raw foodism fueled my interest in investigating the optimal human diet. If raw foods had worked then the answer would have seemed obvious and no further investigation would have been necessary. Yet when the raw food diet, despite its persuasive arguments, didn’t work, it caused me to look more closely at how we live, the choices we make, the impact of those choices, and what is necessary and even what is healthy. At some point my focus shifted from near exclusivity on the optimal diet for the individual apart from its environment to an equal interest in how optimal and non-optimal diets impact the environment. For example, a few years ago when Haiti experienced mudslides far more dramatic and with far more casualties than usual I remember hearing that the reason for the mudslides was that Haiti is 99% deforested. That number was shocking to me. How could a country be 99% deforested? The reason in Haiti’s case, apparently, is that the Haitian people need fuel to cook. They use charcoal, which they obtain from trees. There are certainly other factors leading to Haitian deforestation. I doubt every tree that has been cut down in Haiti was cut by someone for the purpose of making charcoal. However, according to what I heard at the time at least a very significant percentage of the trees had been cut for that purpose. This points out the devastating impact that cooking can have on the environment. And this got me thinking about whether or not we are any better off in the United States. We don’t cut down trees for charcoal at the rates the Haitians cut down their trees for charcoal. But does that absolve us of any environmental harm for the purposes of cooking? Most Americans use stoves. Most stoves in the United States are gas stoves, electric stoves, or induction stoves. Gas stoves almost always use natural gas or propane or another petroleum product. At this point I would hope we are all aware of the devastating impact of petroleum extraction on the environment. Both electric and induction stoves require electricity. Electricity in this country is most often from coal and sometimes from nuclear power plants. In both cases the environmental toll is devastating. It seems to me that cooking in the majority of cases has a negative environmental impact. (Note that there are options such as solar ovens which pose little to no environmental threat once manufactured, but you still have to account for the environmental impact of the manufacture of the solar oven.)

Now, vegans often will boast about the environmental good of the vegan diet. While it may be true that a vegan diet is generally less environmentally harmful than diets that depend on factory farming, I don’t think it is true to say that a vegan diet is inherently environmentally positive or even neutral. Instead, I would argue that a vegan diet is almost always still environmentally negative. This is true even in cases where one eats only organic, whole, local vegan foods. Why? It’s easy to see that a vegan diet that is not organic still contributes to pesticide use, which has a negative impact on the environment. It’s also easy to see how any sort of processing, including packaging, sorting, etc. can have a negative environmental impact. And it’s easy to see that non-local foods require lots of energy for transportation and storage, thus they have a negative environmental impact. But what if I get all my food directly from local organic farmers, and they get the food directly from the fields with no processing of any sort? Isn’t that environmentally-friendly? I don’t think it is. I’m even willing to bet that if someone was to do an analysis they’d find that even if you grow all your own food on your own property then it’s still not 100% sustainable. And I’m not even factoring in the cooking argument I posed just a moment ago. The main culprit, I think, is grain. From everything I know (which admittedly isn’t that much) grain requires a tremendous amount of land. I was recently at a seed saving workshop offered by the Post Oil Solutions group here in Vermont, and the presenter talked about how she’s recently started experimenting with growing staples such as dry beans and grains. This piqued a lot of interest in the attendees. Everyone started asking questions about how it is working for her. What I got from the discussion was that for everyone in the audience who has experimented with growing grains, in particular, they were surprised at just how much land was necessary. One woman (who appeared to be a rather seasoned farmer) said that the year prior she had grown a 40 foot by 40 foot plot of wheat. She said that she harvested the wheat and milled it herself, presumably keeping the bran to maximize the yield. And from the 40 by 40 plot she was able to bake two small loaves of bread. She laughingly added that they were dense loaves. But if her experience is even close to the norm then it illustrates the insanity of a grain-based diet. If you grew tomato plants to fill a 40 foot by 40 foot plot and in one season it only yielded 20 tomatoes, would you consider that a profitable endeavor? It seems that if these experiences with growing grain are typical then it’s no wonder the entire Midwest region of the United States has been deforested for growing grains. Clearing land for growing grains has terrible consequences. We immediately lose biodiversity because we lose tree, plant, and animal species. Also, there are long-term effects such as top-soil erosion and the impact that the loss of forests has on things such as the hydrologic cycle and the delicate balance of “greenhouse gasses” in the atmosphere. Plus, we can’t forget that forests are simply beautiful, and when we cut them down we lose that as well.

So what am I advocating then? To be honest, I don’t know. I still opt for an organic, whole food, vegan diet, emphasizing local when possible. But I’m not sure that is optimal either for the human or for the environment. Certainly it’s better than supporting “conventional” farming practices (herbicides, pesticides, chemical fertilizers, exclusive focus on monocropping, etc.,) or factory farms, or an emphasis on foods grown thousands of miles away. But still I don’t think this diet is optimal.

I think I’ve already made my arguments for why even an organic, whole food, local, vegan diet is not optimal. There are two primary arguments I made. One is that in most cases we’re cooking, which seems to almost always have a negative environmental impact. The second argument I make is that most agriculture, and grain production in particular, is destructive to the environment. For these reasons I would argue that a diet which relies on cooking and/or grain is not optimal. But there is also the individual’s health to be factored in to this equation as well. Is an organic, whole food, local, vegan diet optimal for human health? In a relative sense it would seem that such a diet is preferable to many alternatives. A whole food vegan diet provides the fiber necessary to keep the digestive system functioning well. That is good. An organic version of that has the added benefit of reducing exposure to pesticides and likely also increases nutrient value. And a local version probably means the food is fresher and therefore contains even more nutrients. This all sounds good. However, can I definitely say it is optimal? I don’t know.

When I started reading raw food books for the first time I remember reading the biological argument for veganism. The argument is that humans are biologically herbivorous. This sort of argument is persuasive. You can read an example of this argument at the goveg.com Website at http://www.goveg.com/naturalhumandiet_physiology.asp. In summary the argument states that human jaw and teeth structures, digestive tract length, saliva PH, digestive enzymes, and pretty much everything else resembles that of animals known to be herbivores and we don’t have much in common with animals known to be carnivores or omnivores. As I said, this is a very persuasive argument. We can add to this, though. Consider the following scenario. You are walking along in the woods. You get hungry. You happen upon an apple tree. Does the apple look appetizing? Unless you have a strange aversion to apples, then it probably does look appetizing. Later you get hungry again, and you see a patch of edible greens such as spinach or lettuce. Does that look appetizing? Probably. Still later you get hungry again, and this time you happen upon a rabbit hopping across the forest floor. Do you salivate at the sight of the rabbit? Probably not. Or, let’s say the rabbit is already dead and ripped open. Is that any more appetizing? Not to most of us. These sorts of arguments argue strongly in favor of vegetarianism and veganism. But is that the only valid perspective? Not really.

There are other arguments that refute the biological argument. Or, perhaps more accurately, there are arguments that have a different angle on the biological argument. These arguments claim that humans are more correctly seen as opportunistic feeders rather than pure herbivores. The argument is that the classification of our nearest biological relatives, the apes, as pure herbivores is either naïve or misleading. Apes may eat a diet that is largely herbivorous, but they are opportunistic feeders, and they will also eat animals foods, including eggs, honey, insects, and even dead animals on occasion. You can read a bit more about this argument at http://www.beyondveg.com/nicholson-w/hb/hb-interview1e.shtml.

Also, in light of the possibility that humans are also naturally opportunistic feeders who are biologically adapted to eat mostly an herbivorous diet, but also to include opportunistic inclusion of other animal foods, is it possible that we can see our reaction as to what is appetizing or not as conditioned rather than purely instinctual? For example, is it possible that at times an insect could look appetizing if it weren’t for our conditioning that says it isn’t appetizing? If we see it this way then it can take the blinders off our eyes, and we can start to investigate what an unconditioned and natural response might be.

This post is already pretty long. I have just a few more things I’d like to add, though.

Dental health is another important consideration. As far as I know humans are the only species that brushes their teeth. Why do we have to brush our teeth? I’m not advocating that everyone stops brushing their teeth. The implications would be unpleasant in many ways. But surely it is puzzling that we have to brush our teeth. If you go a day or two without brushing your teeth you know why I say we have to brush our teeth and not just that we choose to brush our teeth. Our dental health would suffer greatly if we didn’t brush our teeth. This is true even with what many would consider a very pure diet such as an organic, whole food, vegan diet with emphasis on leafy green vegetables, which should contribute to dental health as we commonly understand it. But then why is it that without brushing twice daily and professional dental cleanings a few times a year we get the build up of plaque, tartar, and eventually tooth decay? Is it possible that diet has something to do with that? According to the Weston Price foundation it does. If I have the story straight then Weston Price was a dentist who was interested in this puzzle of dental health and diet. He investigated the diets of groups of people with naturally excellent dental health. What he found was that groups of people living in traditional ways and eating traditional diets seemed to generally have excellent dental health. I’m not a Weston Price convert, and I find that Weston Price converts tend to be a bit fanatical, which is offputting to me. However, I find the research to be interesting. I haven’t read everything the Weston Price foundation has available on their site yet. However, when I have read more (if I read more) I may well post additional thoughts and comments. If you’re interested in reading more for yourself then you can visit the Weston Price foundation site at http://westonaprice.org.

Veganism is not just a dietary choice, but often a lifestyle choice. As someone who is committed to a vegan diet I also want to make conscious choices about non-food items as well. Leather is a great example. I don’t want to buy leather shoes because as far as I know the leather is a by-product of factory farming, a practice which I do not support, a practice which is not only unbelievably horrific for the animals involved, but also has far-reaching negative environmental consequences. Therefore, I don’t want to support an industry (shoes) that is profiting from factory farming. What are my alternatives? Well, I can buy canvas shoes that don’t use leather or other animal by-products. But what if I live in a northern climate where several feet of snowfall in one storm is not unusual? Can I wear canvas shoes year-round in these conditions? That is a choice I have to make. If not then perhaps I can consider shoes/boots made of synthetic materials. This way I can feel that I’m not compromising my vegan ideals and I can have appropriate footwear. But is it true that I’m not compromising my ideals? Does the synthetic material not have far-reaching environmental impacts? Aren’t petroleum products likely used in the synthetic materials? And an important thing to consider is that literally thousands of animals may have to give their lives in order to produce a pair of shoes or boots made of synthetic materials. Many of the reasons that animals may die to produce synthetic shoes may also be factors in the manufacture of leather shoes as well. And as such I’m not necessarily saying that mass-produced leather shoes are a better alternative. In either case animals are killed to produce the factories to manufacture the shoes as well as the factories to make the materials used for the shoes. We could trace out the chain of all the factors required to manufacture and distribute a pair of shoes, and we’d all feel depressed for the rest of the day. I don’t think it’s necessary at this point. We all understand my point. What then? I suppose that the argument then is that the most ethical shoes are shoes that are hand made locally from leather that was from an animal that was raised on pasture and killed humanely. But the question to us vegans is are we even willing to set aside or dogma for long enough to consider such a possibility? This same argument isn’t just about shoes. Even if you were able to escape needing shoes somehow this same dilemma is going to be a factor at some point in regard to something.

Interestingly, the same argument I just made about whether or not synthetics (or anything that is manufactured, packaged, distributed, marketed, bought, or sold) is truly vegan or necessarily the most ethical choice doesn’t apply just to products such a shoes or things that originate in factories. This same argument also applies to food. And this is particularly interesting. Even though I have been aware of the dilemma in regard to things such as synthetic materials and shoes for several years, it never occurred to me that it might be true for food as well. In fact, I didn’t even consider that possibility until just a few days ago when I happened across the Website of Lierre Keith. Lierre is many things, it seems. I don’t know much about her, but from what I can gather she is a small farmer, an environmental activist, a feminist, an author, and much more. And if I’ve gotten any of that wrong then I apologize. My point in mentioning Lierre is that upon happening across her site I saw that she is planning to publish a new book very soon. The new book is entitled The Vegetarian Myth: Food, Justice, and Sustainability. I found this title very intriguing, and I quickly read the first fourteen pages from the book which she has placed on her Website at http://www.lierrekeith.com/vegmyth.htm. Lierre was a long-time vegan for all the “right” reasons. She cares very much about sustainability and respect for all forms of life. From what I can gather, her book is about her own grappling with the real impact a vegan diet has in terms of respect for all forms of life and sustainability and what she has learned through her inquiry. I mentioned earlier in this post that it seems to me that grain production has a negative environmental impact. I had realized that much. But I hadn’t made the leap to the next logical step, which is that grain production requires the killing of countless animals. Clearing their habitats is the most dramatic way in which this is accomplished, but it happens indirectly as well. To believe that I have no blood on my hands as a vegan is the vegetarian myth Lierre refers to, as far as I can understand from the first fourteen pages. And this really sums up much of what I’ve tried to say in this post. When we live from these ideological standpoints such as veganism, perhaps we blind ourselves to the real destruction we are causing. Perhaps we keep ourselves busy in abstractions to distract ourselves from seeing that our hands are covered in blood. And perhaps maturity starts with being willing to acknowledge that the world isn’t black and white. There’s a lot of gray (and green and blue and brown and orange and purple and every other possible color.) It’s about understanding that in the web of life each step we take has far-reaching implications. To only focus on the area that immediately surrounds me is to keep the old “not in my back yard” mentality. But maturity is realizing that it’s all my back yard. There’s no escape from that. And sometimes the ethical solutions, the ethical way of life doesn’t align with my ideology. But then what will I do? Will I hold on to my ideology at the expense of more blood on my hands? Or will I let go of my ideology? What is ethical isn’t always what is most pleasant. But what is most pleasant might not always been all the pleasant in actuality either. If we drop our ideologies perhaps we also drop our conditioned expectations of what is pleasant and what is not. Perhaps then we are interested in life itself instead of our ideas about life.

Over the past few years I’ve occasionally contemplated something which I’ll call the “need cycle”, though it is entirely possible that this same cycle is known by some better-known name that I’m simply not familiar with. This cycle is one in which one need begets more needs, which then beget even more needs. This is such a simple and obvious cycle that to even write about it seems rather silly. However, it is also an intriguing cycle because as seemingly destructive as it is we humans appear to fall into its trap over and over again.

The problems with the need cycle are many, I suppose. However, there are two problems with which I’m chiefly concerned, and I see these two problems as being closely related.

The first problem as I see it is that the need cycle tends to move humans and societies into the direction of increasing complexity. Many modern people probably don’t think increasing complexity is a problem. After all, that’s evolution, right? Actually, let me take a step back for a second. Perhaps the move toward increasing complexity is not a problem in and of itself. Rather, I see a problem in the way we humans seem to deal with the increasing complexity. It seems to me that in order to deal with the increasing complexity we take the beautiful interwoven whole of nature and try to section it off into silos of specificity, breaking the natural and subtle ways in which nature maintains balance and harmony. What I mean is that in order to deal with increasing complexity we create new technologies, new social structures, new divisions of labor, new political organizations, new sciences, new therapies, etc. But it seems to me that this creates isolation, reinforcing our self of purposelessness and separation from the very source of life.

The second problem is that these imbalances don’t affect just the humans who are falling in to the need cycle. They can have dire consequences for everything and everyone on our planet, and perhaps even beyond. The more we think we need, the more land we’ll use to manufacture those things, the more “resources” we’ll use in the manufacture of those things, the more pollution we’ll create during the manufacture and transport of those things, etc.

Okay. This is all fine and great. But what am I even talking about? I’ll give a few examples. First, however, I should define a few terms that I’m going to use which will hopefully make some of this discussion slightly less confusing. In the need cycle, as I think of it, there is really no such thing as the original need. Each need is just part of a the cycle. However, for the sake of discussion it is convenient to arbitrarily select a need and then think of that as an original need from which other needs are generated. For example, if I say that I need a girlfriend then other needs may follow from that, such as the need for a car to drive us around on dates, cool décor for my place, and perhaps a therapist to talk through my problems that I have with the girlfriend. We could argue that the need for a girlfriend is itself the result of following through on a previous need, which was itself the result of another need, etc. However, for framing a conversation around an example it is convenient to just call the need for a girlfriend in this case the original need. The needs that follow directly from the need for a girlfriend (such as the need for a car, cool décor, etc.) are what I’ll call second tier needs. The needs generated by the second tier needs are third tier needs. This continues with fourth tier, fifth tier, etc.

I have owned lots of vehicles over the years. I currently own a vehicle. In my case I own a gas-fueled cargo van. But for this example it really doesn’t matter what the exact type of vehicle is. It could be a compact car, a diesel-fueled truck, a hybrid, a car fueled by biodiesel, an electric car, or even a bicycle for that matter. Some of types of vehicles have seemingly more complex need cycles and some have seemingly less complex need cycles. But the fact of the matter is that, as we’ll see, these need cycles are never-ending. Therefore, to say that one is more complex or one is less complex is sort of misleading. In mathematics there are orders of infinity. That’s nice for abstraction. But in practical terms, infinity is infinity, no matter what. And the same is true of need cycles. The second tier needs created by an original need may be few, but as they branch out through the tiers until eventually it reaches infinity. For the sake of this example I’ll talk about my van, though in order to be specific. I bought the van to transport me (and possibly one passenger and possibly cargo) from point A to point B (and probably points C, D, E, F, and so on.) I apparently felt that I had a need to transport myself (and possibly one passenger and possibly cargo) from point A to point B, and in order to meet this perceived need I purchased the van. The need for the van is the original need in this example. Now, this seems simple enough. However, as soon as I’ve purchased the van I now have more needs. Before I can even drive the van in a road I am required by law to purchase liability insurance (and we call this a free society?) So you can see that immediately upon purchasing the van I have created a new second tier need. Almost as urgently, I have the second tier need to register the vehicle because that is required by law in every state that I know of in the United States. Well, in order to even get it registered I have additional third tier needs (see, right away one need begets more needs,) which are to get a safety inspection and an emissions inspection for the vehicle and to get a document from the county clerk indicating that I paid them everything I owed them this year (again, is this the description of a free society?) Once I’ve driven from the county clerk’s office to the various inspection stations and to the department of motor vehicles office, etc. then I’m probably low on gas. So now I’ve got yet another second tier need – gasoline. But it doesn’t stop there. I’ve got to get the oil changed every few months. I need to get the transmission flushed and the tires replaced after a while. Anyone who has ever owned a car knows that this list is endless. You find yourself buying things that aren’t even directly for the car, but things you need for the car. For example, you have to buy a snow shovel in order to clear the driveway and you have to buy an ice scraper and a brush to clean the windows in the winter. I can take almost any one of these needs and trace out the needs that it begets into the third tier and beyond. For the sake of illustration we’ll just take the example of oil changes. In order to keep the van in good running order I have a second tier need to change the oil every 3000-5000 miles. Clearly I then need oil (third tier.) We could trace that path to see all the needs for acquiring the oil, which would include all sorts of things like bottles to contain the oil (and companies to make the bottles, etc.,) stores to sell the oil, trucks to transport the oil (and companies to make the trucks, etc.,) oil companies to extract oil, and on and on an on. I can’t even keep track of the tiers in this example because it’s to intricate and complex. It is endless. But that’s just in one direction. What about for oil disposal? I can’t just throw the oil on the ground or down the drain since that’s against the law. I now have even more new needs. I have to have a program or organization that will take the oil and “properly” recycle or dispose of it. You can see how that path spirals out of control too.

Okay. A van seems like an extreme example, though. Perhaps it’s unfair to lead with this example. Perhaps it’s misleading. A van is a complex machine. It’s not difficult to see that complex machines may spiral out of control like how I’ve described. And likewise it’s not difficult to see how this is true for most high-tech devices such as cell phones, computers, etc. What about something simple, something low-tech like a spiral-bound paper notebook. True, the maintenance on a notebook is fairly trivial compared with a van. Notebooks don’t require tune-ups or replacement windshields. Notebooks also don’t have the same legal complexities as a van since you typically don’t have to register a notebook with the state or acquire insurance just to use a notebook. But something simple and low-tech like a notebook is perfect for demonstrating how the need cycle challenges our concept of time. We are taught to think of time as linear and moving in one direction. In our version of time second tier needs must appear in time after the original need. However, that’s not necessarily true. Because of our thinking and orientation toward time we have a blindness to needs that occur before an original need. Just because we are blind, though, does not mean the need cycle isn’t there. Consider this. How would you get a notebook if the store didn’t exist in which to buy the notebook, if there wasn’t a factory that manufactured the notebooks, if the metal to make the spiral binding hadn’t been mined, if the pulp mill didn’t exist, if the logging company didn’t exist, or if the factory that makes the logging machinery didn’t exist? These are needs in the need cycle that exist prior to the original need in terms of our orientation to time. But they are still needs generated by an indulgence in the original need.

Thus far we’ve seen examples of things that are manufactured. We saw the example of a complex manufactured thing such as a van, and we saw an example of a simple manufactured thing. But can the need cycle exist for things that aren’t manufactured? Well, in a sense yes, it can. What about the example of a pet? A pet couldn’t create this same sort of infinite need cycle, could it? You bet it could. In fact, a pet was what first got me thinking about this cycle. At one time a rescued chinchilla was in my life. It should be said that chinchillas, like all of natures creatures, are wondrous and beautiful and amazing…and they should never have been brought into captivity. (Actually, if you ponder this it really can reveal the insanity of the way we’ve brought ourselves into captivity via civilization. We humans are the original captives. We initially captured ourselves. Then we set about capturing everything else.) However, by fate here was this little creature in my life, in my care. I was her guardian. If you don’t know what a chinchilla looks like then it’s worth mentioning that a chinchilla is a small animal. A chinchilla, can easily sit on the palm of your hand. You’d think that given the chinchilla’s size it couldn’t generate many needs. But you’d be wrong. A chinchilla in captivity generates many needs. A chinchilla can chew through just about anything except steel. They’ll go through plastic, wood, walls, wires, fabric, etc. It’s unsafe for you and for the chinchilla to allow the chinchilla to roam freely through your house. Therefore the very first second tier need is a cage. Now, once you have a cage there are third tier needs. You have to get proper bedding for the cage. You also have to get exercise equipment for the chinchilla to use in the cage (e.g. a wheel) or else the chinchilla’s health will be the worse for being cooped up in a cage for most of the day. Now, it’s not okay to keep the chinchilla in the cage all the time. You have to let the chinchilla out every day in which she can run around while you supervise and make sure she doesn’t chew everything. This often generates another need, which is various sorts of gates or such to prevent the chinchilla from escaping from the room or getting at something in the room that might be harmful to the chinchilla if she were to chew it. And of course chinchillas need to eat. Unless you happen to grow timothy hay in large quantities in your yard (and dry it, because too much fresh grasses can cause problems for chinchillas) you’ll need to buy hay. Chinchillas are originally from South America, and in their native environment they are able to chew on a variety of rocks and roots and barks and leaves and such in addition to eating native grasses and herbs, all of which provides them with a complex balance of nutrients they need. Timothy hay cannot provide them with all that. Therefore, you need to also buy specially-formulated pellets for the chinchilla to eat as well. You’ll need a water bottle too because the chinchilla will need to drink water. Oh, but wait. There’s more. Chinchillas’ teeth never stop growing. They absolutely must chew on wood in order to wear down their teeth or else they will have serious problems. But most types of wood are not safe for chinchillas. Try giving a chinchilla a branch from a tree in your front yard and you might kill her. Apple tree twigs are generally considered safe for chinchillas. But they have to be dried properly or else there are other possible problems. The simplest solution is to buy bags of dried apple twigs. As you can see, the need cycle for a chinchilla as a pet is much more complex than you might have thought.

Now that we’ve seen a few examples of the need cycle we can look at the impact of these cycles. As I said earlier, I think the need cycle always moves toward increasing complexity. The examples that I’ve described seem to support this statement. It seems that every need spirals out such that it requires the creation, maintenance, and expansion of companies, organizations, governments, etc. Those then require regulation, journalism organizations, watchdog groups, etc. I personally think this sort of move toward complexity is negative for humans and all of life on this planet and perhaps beyond. Again, not because I think complexity is inherently bad. Rather, I think that our approach to complexity has been one of separation and specialization rather than integration, and I think this causes us to act in destructive ways.

Although I think the problem of increasing complexity and our approach of separation and specialization is a fundamental problem that needs to be really looked at, I’m not sure what more I can say about it at this time. It is just plainly obvious to me, and beyond repeating the fact over and over I don’t know that I can add anything of substance on that point. However, I can definitely say more about what I previously described as the second main problem of the need cycle, and that is the actual destructive aspect of the need cycle.

The need cycle appears to be highly destructive by nature. I don’t think it is a malicious destruction. Rather, it seems that the destruction is almost always an unintended side-effect. What I mean is that I don’t think humans have collectively set a goal to deforest the planet. But the fact of the matter is that in the game of the need cycle the earth gets deforested. It’s a side-effect. And I think that it’s an inevitable side effect. I don’t think we can do better as long as we are playing the need cycle game. As long as we indulge in this cycle there will be destructive side-effects. I know there are people who argue in favor of technology saving the day. Many of these people make cases for “the singularity”. It’s a compelling story. But I’m not willing to bet the lives of the remaining wolves or the remaining elephants or the remaining elm trees or the remaining bees or the planet itself for a theory about the singularity. I’d rather be honest about what we’re doing and see if there’s a way we can grow up and stop making the planet a causality of ignorance. Because when the last deer has died saying “I didn’t know” won’t bring them back.

I’d like to just briefly look at a few examples of the destructive aspect of the need cycle in case it’s not entirely obvious. Consider the van scenario again. In this example we’ve got to have a factory (called a plant, ironically) in order to manufacture the van. This factory is huge. Really. If you’ve ever been to one you know what I mean. Bigger than you can wrap your brain around. That means that whatever plants and animals were on that land before had to be killed or displaced. That means that rain will no longer soak into the ground where the factory stands, which means the hydrologic cycle is crippled. The factory has to be filled with lots of machines that had to be built in other factories. The metals for all the machines and for the cars themselves have to be mined out of the earth, which disrupts ecosystems where the mine is. This also requires machines for mining, which requires factories for building the machines. The car factory requires workers. This requires that the workers have transportation to the factory. This means lots of cars. This means the need for more car factories. Once cars are manufactured they have to be sold, which requires dealerships, which requires more land is paved over and more buildings built. It requires air conditioning and lighting in the building, That requires electricity. That requires burning coal or a nuclear reactor or a dam in a river. Or if the car dealership is “green” then they are powered by solar panels on the roof, which requires the manufacture of solar panels, which requires a factory and the mining of materials for the panels, etc. Cars need fuel to run. That requires oil, refineries, distribution, gas stations, etc. Or, maybe some cars run on biodiesel, which requires thousands of acres of monocrops. This destructive cycle goes on and on. And to believe that this is exclusive to cars and a handful of other manufactured items is naïve. This applies across the board. This applies to agriculture, to educational systems, to NGOs, to so-called “green” homes, to just about everything in our civilization.

What can we do about this? It seems pretty dire. Well, I think what is required is something radically different from what we are doing right now. I think that we need to take a really careful look at what we are indulging, and we need to ask ourselves some questions about what we really need. And maybe while we’re at it we might ask ourselves what we really want too. Do we really want all that we’ve created? Do we want the isolation, the meaninglessness of the modern world?

Now that I’ve made my presentation I realize that calling this the need cycle is not as clear as it could be. In truth what we’re talking about aren’t needs at all. They are compulsions, but not needs. No one needs a car. I don’t care what argument you make. No one needs a car. Sure, you might lose your job if you don’t have a car. Hell, you might even die when you don’t want to if you don’t have a car because you cannot get to medical help fast enough. But that doesn’t mean you need a car. I think it’s about time we all (myself included…myself especially) started getting serious about being honest about the difference between a need and a compulsion. We do have valid needs. We need clean air, clean water, healthy food, shelter from harsh elements, and perhaps family/community/nurturing relationships. The thing is, I believe that our valid needs can be met directly without mediation by an external group, organization, or government. You don’t need a municipal water company or even a well-digging company to obtain water. Water is available to you directly. The same is true of food. You don’t need a farmer, distributor, or store for food. Food is available to you directly in nature. The problem on all these accounts is that while these things may be directly available to us, most of us (myself included) are so cut off from our relationship with nature that we are blind to these things. But this information is available. At least for a short while longer it is held as wisdom among the remaining people who live close to the earth on this planet.

I believe that what I’ve called the need cycle doesn’t actually apply to real needs. A real need can be met directly. At most a real need may require the help of a community. But a real need doesn’t require additional organizations. It doesn’t require mediation. It doesn’t require abstraction. A real need is not only something you can meet directly, but the experience is also direct. In a sense there is a timelessness to a real need. A compulsion extends into time because it can never really be fulfilled. It is a sense of lack that merely perpetuates itself through the compulsion itself. Because I believe a real need doesn’t generate the need cycle, I also believe that a real need is not inherently destructive. That is not to say that a real need might not appear to destroy. But I believe that with a real need the balance is maintained. Trees may be cut. Animals may be killed. But if this is done only in response to a real need then there is balance. Imbalance is when the compulsion is followed that causes us to cut down every tree on the planet.

It seems to me that we can stop the need cycle and the ensuing destruction if we simply opt not to follow a compulsion. In fact, it actually seems to me that no effort is required to try to discern what is a compulsion and what is a real need using logic or thought. A real need, it seems to me, is beyond thought. For example, you have a real need to breath. Try not to breath. You can’t. You might hold your breath for a while. But one way or another eventually you will breathe again, even if it means passing out first. If I choose not to buy a car then it’s not inevitable that eventually I will have to buy a car, that buying a car will somehow happen without my consent in the same way that breathing happens. To me this indicates that buying a car is a compulsion. Granted, this argument is a bit nuanced. Yes, you can choose not to eat, for example. That is true. You do seemingly have the ability to decide to starve to death. Am I implying that food is not a real need? I’m not making that argument. (Though I suppose it could be said that if one does choose not to eat then for as long as one chooses no to eat, even if it is to death, then food is not a real need for that person.) But I think that if we look at this honestly for ourselves it gets clear quite quickly what is a real need and what is a compulsion. And what if we just refuse to follow the compulsions? The devil says to place your hand in the fire, but you don’t listen to the devil. You keep your hand out of the fire. And you are rewarded by avoiding terrible burns and keeping the use of your hand. Can we stop the need cycle at any point? Yes. I believe we can. I believe we can choose to do this. I already have a van. The compulsion says that since I have the van I must buy more gasoline. After all, it would be a terrible waste to have the van and not actually drive it. But this is the devil whispering in my ear. How much longer will I place my hand in the fire? It is possible to stop following the compulsions right now. Does that mean I will? No. I’m just saying that I believe it is possible, and I believe that our hope of restoring health, balance, and meaning to our experience of life may well depend on our willingness to ignore the compulsions. Is this an all or nothing situation? Not necessarily. Might it be best if I stopped following all compulsions immediately? Yes. But even if I don’t stop following all of them it’s still a step in the right direction if I stop following at least a few…and then a few more.

As with everything I may write on this blog I have little doubt but what this post will be a cause for embarrassment at some point. I know I’m likely just showing my ignorance and naiveté in this writing. But, as I’ve already stated, I hope that this can be a starting point for a conversation. I’d like to hear other ideas and critiques of my ideas. Perhaps we can start to have an honest dialog about these issues.

This is a continuation of yesterday’s post regarding free society.

What about the American Indian peoples? Are they free? Are they free to reclaim the land to which they have more right than anyone else? The land was taken from them through violence, and those who used violence state that their claim on the land is valid because they have a document that shows ownership. This sort of logic is frustrating at best. Surely if a people lived on and cared for a land for thousands of years then they have more claim to it than a people who used violence to grab the land and subsequently brought it to ruin within just a few hundred years. But the American Indian peoples are not free to reclaim their land. They are free merely to stay quiet under threat of violence.

There are more citizens than just humans to consider. What about “man’s best friend”? Are dogs free in this society? If a dog doesn’t have an “owner” then that dog will be “euthanized” (i.e. murdered.) If a dog has an “owner” but isn’t on a leash then that dog (and her owner) may suffer consequences imposed by the municipality. Is that a description of freedom? It gets even worse, though. What about pit bulls? In some cases these dogs are not even free to exist. What arrogance do we have to impose such unimaginable cruelty on an entire species of animals (a species of animals that bring such direct joy to us as well.) I know this may seem an extreme view to many, but I believe it is true, and therefore I will say it. What we do to dogs has striking parallels to what Nazi Germany did to Jews and other groups they viewed as “sub-human”. Though many may contest the official reasoning for the U.S. involvement in World War II, the fact remains that one of the main motivating forces for U.S. support of the war was the unthinkable genocide carried out by the Nazis. Nazi Germany is held up by many as a model of a society that was not free. If we carry out similar actions toward our companion animals here at home then how can we call ourselves free?

Now that we’ve wandered out into radical territory by claiming that even dogs should be free I’ll take it a step further. What about the countless other lifeforms that co-inhabit a nation’s borders? Are they free? Are wolves free? Apparently not because in many places they have been hunted to near extinction. Are salmon free? Apparently not because many of the nearly 80,000 dams (according to “official” count, at least) in the United States prevent salmon from migrating in order to lay their eggs. Are cows free? Apparently not because many are raised in factory farms where they never graze and barely walk.

What about trees? Are trees free? In my opinion clear-cutting a forest is equivalent to genocide. When a government or military systematically seeks to kill a group of people we get up in arms. We consider that a travesty. When logging companies clear cut thousands of acres of old-growth forest we call that the price of doing business. But when we clear-cut those forests we are killing an entire “ethnic group” of trees. Once they are gone we will never see them again. The implications are staggering and far-reaching. But the point here is that trees aren’t free. We allow trees in specific locations only. Mostly we allow trees where the land is not suitable for commercial or agricultural development. (Look at a map of old-growth forest destruction in the U.S. over the course of 200 years and you will weap.)

[Note that lest it be misunderstood that I am claiming that no one should ever cut down a tree or that no animals should ever die I'd like to set the record straight. I'm not claiming that no one should ever cut down a tree. I'm not claiming that no one should ever hunt down a rabbit. If anything I think that a free society doesn't impinge on anyone's right to do those things. In a free society the society itself doesn't prohibit a person from killing another person. But to institutionalize the sort of limitations on freedoms (not to mention mass extinctions) as we have done in our society seems to me to be anything but free. You might argue that a free society wouldn't prevent groups organizing to clear-cut forests. I suppose that is true. However, in a free society without division of labor this sort of organization might be challenging at best. I don't claim to have all the answers. I'm just writing a critique to the best of my ability at this point in time.]

There are other lifeforms to consider as well. As much as we forget animals and plants and the importance of their freedom, we are far more likely to completely forget about the importance of freedom for rivers, mountains, soil, rocks, the air, and the like.

Rivers provide a striking example of a loss of freedom due to the imposition of our society. There are at least two really clear cases of loss of freedom for rivers. The Colorado river is an example of the first type of loss of freedom. This river is no longer free to reach to its natural delta in the Gulf of California. Through dams and water diversion the fresh water of the Colorado river no longer flows to the delta (and the losses to biodiversity are disheartening to say the least.) An example of the second type of loss of freedom for rivers can be seen with the Mississippi river. This river naturally makes changes to its course over time. It was once free to make these changes. Today through levee systems and locks and dams humans have done their best to contain and control the river, steadying its course and maintaining water levels to make it suitable for commercial barge traffic. The Mississippi river is not free in our society (though periodically it does rattle its cage through floods too great for humans to control.)

As unbelievable as it may seem, rocks too have lost freedom under the rule of our society. Rocks used to be free to remain where they were for very long times. That is, in fact, the nature of the rock. Just as it is a bird’s nature to fly, it is a rock’s nature to remain quite steady, with only minor changes due to erosion over time. Rocks provide the grounding energy of nature. But rocks are no longer free to live as their nature dictates. In our society rocks are resources, and we use explosives to break them up, move them, and sell them.

Clearly the list of examples of lack or loss of freedom in this society can go on and on. At this point, however, we can turn instead to looking at what an alternative might be. What then is a free society? I’ve talked about what it is not. It is not a society that oppresses, represses, limits, or imprisons its people or any of the lifeforms within it, nor does it outsource these things abroad. A free society doesn’t coerce. It doesn’t define freedom as existing between the narrow confines of the rules. It doesn’t grant freedom to some and not to others. What does a truly free society look like then? What we fear is that a society that is not governed by a government is a society characterized by violence, crime, and insecurity. The irony is that it is our current society that is characterized by these things. The more we mistakenly believe that rule most be imposed from the outside in order to tame the dangerous instincts of people the more violence, crime, and insecurity we see.

Before I continue with any attempt to provide a solution to what I see as the problems that I’ve outlined already, I think it is worth noting that I do not pretend to have any or all of the answers. My own thinking on all of these matters could be wrong. This is a process that is constantly evolving. By even publishing this work online I am making my own ignorance and immaturity public. I am doing this in the hope that perhaps this can start a dialog or a conversation or perhaps even build a community where we can work together to try to answer the questions of how we can live better, more meaningful, more free lives. I realize that there is no simple answer to these questions that everyone can agree on. This is part of the beauty of life is that it is not black and white, but gray. As soon as we take a fundamentalist stance we are likely wrong even if we are right. And I know that much of what I’ve already written and much of what I may well write runs the risk of sounding like a fundamentalist stance. That is not the case, or if it is I hope to be called out on it and see the errors of my thinking. With all that said, let me continue.

I don’t typically like labels. I think they can be unnecessarily vague and confusing because everyone has a different interpretation. Furthermore, I don’t support the idea of adhering to a label and blindly adopting all the beliefs associated with that label. However, it is also unnecessarily difficult to redefine things over and over, and for that reason I’m going to use a label. That label is anarchism. I tend to believe that anarchism (in the way that I think of it) has the greatest chance of a truly free society. I am not trying to say that anarchy can guarantee that no one will ever be harmed or that justice will always be perfectly meted out. But what I do believe is that in our efforts to impose security we have created far more harm or injustice than would ever exist without those efforts. I my view a free society does not have a centralized government, nor does it recognize the division of labor necessary to create a full-time government. A free society metes out justice through community, not through courts, and a free society understands that we can never truly dole out perfect justice because, among other things, we cannot ever know what true justice really is. A free society allows all, even that which the majority doesn’t like. And if anyone takes action to attempt to censor anyone else then a free society allows that as well, though individuals or groups within a free society may set out to advocate for acceptance of free speech. The point is there is no government imposing censorship or free speech on anyone.

One of the troubles with anarchism is that it is generally misunderstood by the majority of people. Anarchy has been framed (via propaganda) as violent rioting in the streets and much mayhem and destruction. This is not the aim of my own understanding of anarchism. In my interpretation anarchism is simply about a society in which there is no official authority which coerces the people or any of the lifeforms living in the society. I think this is what we would all want of our society. We would all like to live in a truly free society. But we’ve been duped into believing we’ve got to trade in freedom for security.

In the United States we have what is supposed to be a constitutional republic, which is designed to protect the minority from the tyranny of the majority. This is a noble idea. In a system of government such as a democracy the majority decides the course. For example, if the majority of people in a democracy vote to cut off the hands of left-handed people then left-handed people in that society are subject to the tyranny of the majority because there is nothing safeguarding their basic rights. The idea with a constitutional republic is that the constitution safeguards the basic rights that must be guaranteed to all people regardless of the will of the majority. In the United States it doesn’t matter whether or not the majority votes, for example, to ban women from speaking in public. Why? Because the constitution (via the Bill of Rights) protects and guarantees the right to free speech for all people. The strengths of a constitutional republic highlight one of the weaknesses of anarchy.

Anarchy doesn’t have inherent provisions to guarantee rights for all even against the tyranny of the majority. However, there are a few things to consider. One important consideration is that despite the lofty aims of a government such as a constitutional republic, not all rights of all people are always guaranteed. Consider that the United States constitution guarantees the right to vote to all citizens. Yet black Americans were denied that right for the better part of a century, and it took even longer before women were finally granted that right. There are many similar examples of rights not always afforded to all people despite their guarantee by the U.S. constitution. What’s more, and perhaps even more importantly, one of the most basic human rights, the right to freedom from coercion, is not only not safeguarded by a constitutional republic, but it may well be trampled by that very republic as is the case in the United States.

There are many schools of anarchistic philosophical thought. Some would argue that it is possible to safeguard rights via a constitutional anarchy. I view this as an impossibility because in order to safeguard rights it is necessary to have enforcement agencies which necessarily implies coercion. Furthermore, it also would require governmental institutions for monitoring possible rights abuses. This would be a move toward division of labor, which starts the whole downward spiral once again. My own thinking around this nuance of safeguarding basic rights in an anarchy is not particularly matured because I have not considered this very much yet and I have not yet thought of any very satisfying solutions.

The fact is that critiquing something is almost always easier than providing a better alternative that might actually work. And at this point in my thinking on the issue of where our society is I’m much more mature in my critique than in my ability to present solutions. I hope that over time I will learn from others, collaborate, and perhaps even discover new solutions. I do see critique as a valid and important part of the discovery process. Without having a mature understanding of the problems it can be difficult to formulate good solutions. I think where many people get stuck is that they stay focused on the critique and never move beyond into positive action. I hope that this writing is part of a process that helps me (and perhaps others) to take positive action. With that said, I think I can still add a bit more about possible critiques of an anarchist solution.

I think that one of the major critiques of anarchy is that an anarchy will be violent, that there is nothing to ensure the safety of the people living in that society. The trouble with this argument is that we simply don’t have many present-day anarchies to observe. There are some who argue that certain tribal groups such as the Bushmen are anarchist societies. If that is true then it would seem that violence within an anarchy is fairly low by our own standards. When we look at historical hunter-gatherer societies anthropologists seem to have differing opinions. There are anthropologists who argue that these societies had vastly more violence than modern societies. Some claims argue that many of those societies had murder rates among males anywhere from 10% to 60%. Those who make those claims often seem to be in favor of criminal justice systems. But even if we accept those numbers (which are clearly up for debate) it is still worth considering whether the trade off has been entirely positive. Do we actually experience lower rates of violence today in our modern societies? It may be true that crimes classified as murders strike much less than 10% of the male population. Yet is the violence merely less obvious in our society? I’m not going to make a claim here one way or the other. But I think it is worth considering that much of the violence today is disguised and called by different names. For example, the U.S.-led invasion and subsequent occupation of Iraq beginning in 2003 has led to the deaths of over 4000 U.S. troops and over 1000 contractors plus upward of over 28,000 U.S. troops and over 10,000 contractors listed as wounded or injured (we simply don’t know how many have been wounded severely enough that they might well be kept alive only by machines.) And then there are serious estimates of Iraqi violent deaths since the invasion of up to 1.5 million (these can be due to “coalition” attacks, car bombs, etc.) This is just one example of how tremendous numbers of violent deaths can occur that are not classified as murders statistically, which acts to disguise them. There are plenty of similar examples. Although I think this next argument is a bit on the weak side, I’ll share it all the same. It could be said that many deaths in modern society are the result of a form of muted violence. Deaths due to cancer, for example, it could be argued are often the result of toxins that are put into the environment (whether that is a work environment, a home environment, or THE environment) through the violence of the commoditization of people, animals, plants, minerals, etc. Then we could also argue that there are possibly fates worse than death that are brought part of modern society. Consider a very sizable prison population as one example. (Plus, don’t forget that capital punishment, though perhaps not statistically sizable, is yet another disguised form of murder.) Another example might be people forced into extreme poverty. My point in all of this is not to draw a definitive conclusion. Rather I am merely attempting to question some of the assumptions we might make and realize that to compare supposed murder rates in pre-state societies with murder rates in modern civilization is comparing apples to oranges.

The following is the start of a few thoughts on free society.

We hear the expression “free society” thrown about quite a lot. Political rhetoric is particularly fond of this expression. We are told that we live in a free society and that we must protect these freedoms. Often we are told that protecting these freedoms means waging war against “the other”. Sometimes the other is outside of national boundaries. In those cases we wage conventional war. Sometimes the other is inside our national or regional boundaries, and then we must wage an unconventional war such as the war on drugs.

Interestingly, there are at least two ways to read the expression “free society”. One way is to read the word free as an adjective. In this case the expression refers to a society in which freedom is abundant. The second way to read the expression is to read it as an imperative, a command in which the word free is a verb, not an adjective. In this second way of reading the expression the view of society at present is one that sees coercion, oppression, and limits places on freedom. In this view one is compelled to take action to remove the limiting agents and restore freedom to society.

My contention is that we do not, in fact, live in a free society, but rather a society that needs its freedom restored. This claim goes against the grain of conventional thinking. But how much of our thinking is based on honest observation and how much is based on propaganda? The propaganda is strong. It seems to blind us to what is right in front of our eyes, or more closely, what is held to be true in our hearts.

Is it possible for us to see that all identity is assumed, added on after the fact of our natural existence? When you were born you had no ideas about who you were. There were no boundaries between you and anyone or anything else. Everything was pure wonder. Your parents and your community may well have had ideas about who you were, but these didn’t have any meaning to you as an infant. From that innocence we have adopted lots of ideas regarding who we are. We have constructed an identity. But is the construction real? When we die will that identity continue with us, or will we simply return to the vast wonder we knew as infants?

Perhaps we can see how little by little we have built this identity. We might have first taken on the idea that we are associated with a name and a particular body and location. This wasn’t the case from infancy. However, the notion was reinforced over and over by family and community. We began to accept that we were this name, this body, this location. Next we might have taken on the idea that we are a boy or a girl. Again, these are ideas that we assumed over time, but they are not innately with us. As time went on we added to our identity with ideas such as nationality, ethnicity, abilities, etc. Later still we might take on yet more ideas such as our career, being a parent, religious beliefs. Yet when we fall asleep and are in dreamless sleep where is this identity? It is not with us. It vanishes.

In this moment can we simply drop the assumed identity? In this moment, without invested belief in any idea of myself, what do I need to defend? What standpoint do I have? What is present when these notions are allowed to fall away? Is there hatred for the “other”? How can there be? In this unidentified state there is no other. There is simply the miracle of life, and there is compassion and love seen in all its forms.

I’m not implying that you have to use effort to walk around in a blank state without any sense of identity all the time. But through this simple exercise it is possible to see that who we are is without boundaries, and that all the boundaries are merely mental constructs. From this perspective can we then see our current supposed “free society” differently? If my seeming freedom is dependent on the oppression of others supposedly outside my society then is this really a free society?

I’d like to draw a distinction between freedom and utopia. Many of us have a notion that freedom means no pain, no disease, no fear, no worry, no disasters, etc. But in a very real sense that description is exactly the opposite of freedom. Freedom is unpredictable. Freedom allows for everything, including pain, disease, fear, worry, disasters, and even death. And the reality is that these things are always happening. But by living in a mental construct, believing that we are progressing toward a greater and brighter future in our “free society” allows us to deny these things. We can deny everything, even death. But this denial has a price. The price is peace and wholeness. Through denial we also deny our true identity, and thus we deny peace and wholeness. We go about looking for peace and wholeness through acquisition, through domination, all the while blind to the source of peace and wholeness. Watch a bird in the wild some time. Watch a tree. Watch a river. Watch a cloud. They know their true identity. They know the source of peace and happiness. The cloud doesn’t need to acquire another cloud to be whole.

Our sense of lack draws us further and further into conceptual abstraction. We no longer see humans as our brethren. We see them as friend or enemy, same or different, master or slave. This creates a world view underscored by anxiety and insecurity. We feel insecure and build up wealth and power and dominance to try and squelch the insecurity. The problem is that no amount of wealth, power, or dominance will squelch the insecurity because the insecurity is about a mistaken identity, not about real lack.

I won’t argue but what many of the so-called first-world nations such as the United States offer relative freedom in greater quantities than other countries run by overt dictators. Yet to defend this relative freedom is actually to advocate for oppression both abroad and at home.

The fact that the American way of life is propped up by oppression abroad is not difficult to see. Consider that an overwhelming amount of products sold in the United States are manufactured in so-called third-world countries, using labor practices that are questionable at best. But to simply say that the labor practices are questionable is to miss the point entirely. Many of the people who work under these questionable labor conditions in countries such as China, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam, Ecuador, and El Salvador, have no other options as a result of the overtaking of their land by corporations. Many of these people may well have lived subsistence existences relatively peacefully before Sony or Nike swept in and built a factory. These people no longer have the option to live from the land. It is not as though they previously worked in factories and the working conditions of the new factories just happen to be worse. The entire paradigm for these people was changed violently. These people are now slaves to the corporations, though only a short time ago they were connected to the land. Every time we buy a sweater at the Gap or a new iPod we are oppressing people abroad.

It is naïve to believe that our way of life can be sustained without slave labor, without oppression abroad. It is also naïve and downright cruel to assume that sad as it might be this sort of oppression is acceptable or simply “the price of doing business”. Our way of life is one of overconsumption. That means that our way of life requires the importation of materials, products, and the use of cheap labor. Our way of life necessarily imposes on those who aren’t part of the American dream. And since the American dream is a dream of overconsumtion then by definition the American dream cannot expand to include everyone. There always have to be those on the outside in order to prop up the American dream.

What might not be as evident as oppression abroad is oppression at home. We are told that we live in a free society. The United States Bill of Rights guarantees a list of freedoms, including freedom of speech, freedom of press, and the freedom to bear arms. As a result we live under the assumption (delusion?) that our society is truly free. However, simple observation demonstrates that this is not the case. Let us consider a few of the things you are not free to do in the United States.

The majority of people in the United States have housing. Chances are you have housing. Chances are you either own your housing or you rent (or you have an agreement to live somewhere with people who either own or rent.) Consider what would happen if you decided not to pay rent. This would lead to eviction. And if you refused to move the law enforcement would be brought in to forcibly remove you. If you own your home you may think you are free and clear of this sort of problem. But that is simply not true. Consider what happens if you refuse to pay your property taxes. A similar scenario would play out. Then there are those of us who have experimented with the idea of alternative living situations. Perhaps, you think, you could simply live out of a tent somewhere without these problems. But again that is not true. All land in the United State is either privately or publicly owned. If you live on private property you must have an arrangement with the owner of the land or you will be considered to be trespassing and you will be forcibly removed by law enforcement. And governments do not permit living on public property. If you’ve ever visited a national forest, for example, you will note that there are rules governing how long you are permitted to remain on that land. State, county, and city lands also have similar rules.

All forms of taxation are oppressive, and they illustrate how a society is not truly free. In the United States you are not free to opt out of income taxation. Forget about the legality of income tax in the United States (which is highly questionable from a constitutional standpoint.) The simple fact is that if you do not pay income tax in the United States you may be indicted and sent to prison. That is not freedom.

The United States has a legal stance on drugs that makes the notion that we live in a free society laughable. You are free to grow roses in your front yard. However, if you try to grow other specific plants which the government has decided are illegal you may well be imprisoned. At the very least you will be required to destroy the plant. I’m not advocating for drug use one way or the other. I’m simply pointing out that a society that limits what people can grow, posses, and use is not a free society.

The things I’ve listed already are the “usual suspects” for demonstrating that our supposed free society isn’t very fond of freedom. But it goes beyond these few issues. There is great pressure from the entire system to play a predefined role in the system, and there is little tolerance for stepping outside of those roles. Consider that you can be placed in a psychiatric ward of a hospital against your will if your behavior is different enough from the norm. You must then prove to the doctors that you are capable of thinking and behaving within narrow defined limits of normalcy before you will be allowed to depart from that hospital. And if you don’t ever behave as they think you should then you may well never leave.

The oppression isn’t always as dramatic, though. Much of it we just take for granted and accept. We as a society seem to accept that it is okay for certain people in our society to clean toilets or work in landfills while others fly in private jets and vacation on private islands. The notion and acceptance of the division of labor is an evil and oppressing agent that has gone to such extremes that it would be laughable except for the fact that it creates suffering for millions. What gives one person the right to fly in their private jet while allowing others to be deprived of basic necessities? Really. Contemplate this. I can see no reason. Wouldn’t a real community want real prosperity for all its children? Instead, I feel we’ve got fake prosperity for a handful and real suffering for many. Who wins in this scenario? But this sort of gross inequity is built into our way of life and our way of thinking. And where is the freedom in that? We believe in the American myth that anyone can rise up in the ranks to “be somebody”. While that may be true to a certain degree (though I doubt it is as true as we’d like to believe) doesn’t it still imply that there are those who will not rise up in the ranks? Won’t those people still get stepped on? Where there is inequity there is no freedom. In a free society we all have access to clean water, not just those who can afford reverse osmosis systems or imported water from the arctic.