Hospice Earth: Part five, Battlefield medicine
August 6th, 2008(Author: G.
Creative Commons: attribution and share-alike.)
In part one I said that we could begin to address overshoot by voluntary measures such as universally available birth control. In part three I went on to say that we are facing a three-hundred Hitler holocaust nonetheless, unless, in part four, we went into Draconian Overdrive. Contradictions? Not quite, or at least not yet.
Of battle zones and gray zones.
Consider military field medics, whose job is to save lives on the battlefield. There are numerous accounts of soldiers bringing in the wounded from the opposing force (OPFOR, “enemy”), and medics saving their lives without hesitation. As a soldier your job is to destroy the OPFOR’s capacity to fight, which usually translates to “killing them before they can kill you.” Yet even in the midst of warfare, compassion does not become a casualty.
Consider our strategic nuclear arsenal in the Cold War era. The effective use of these weapons would have caused death and destruction on a scale we can barely imagine. Yet their very existence, in the context of mutual deterrence, kept the peace between superpowers for over half a century, until finally the Cold War was resolved without these weapons being used again.
Contradictions? Not quite. Paradoxes, yes. Dear readers, on this site you will often be called upon to exercise something known as “Keatsian negative capability.” This is the ability to doubt your preferred hypotheses, live with paradox and cognitive dissonance, deal with apparent contradictions, and, as I often put it, “walk in the gray,” the uncertain zone between the certainties of black and white. A number of Asian philosophers speak of something similar, referring to “non-duality”: the oneness that is beyond the appearance of difference. Coming to terms with this, learning how to think in this way, is a necessary element in the social evolution of our species. At this point in history it is essential to our survival on this planet.
The globalization of overshoot and collapse.
Throughout human history we have always been confronted with plague, famine, pestilence, and war (sound familiar?). By and large these signs and symptoms have not been recognized as pointing to the underlying disease. They are seen as exceptions and set apart from the mundane course of life as-usual.
The disease that produces each of these symptoms is overshoot of carrying capacity, by overpopulation and overconsumption. In the past it has occurred primarily on a local scale, with exceptions such as the Spanish Flu pandemic and the World Wars, that should have been taken as warnings.
In this new world of ours, the disease has gone global. The next pandemic will move at the speed of jet air travel. Hunger even now is spreading through the escalating prices of staple crops in world commodity markets. Invasive species spread into new territories as a function of climate change, destroying crops and damaging ecosystems as they go. Low-intensity conflict simmers in urban and rural areas worldwide, like the early stages of a bacterial infection. The sheer numbers and needs of humanity are causing the Earth a fever, measured in the increase in greenhouse gases and the rise of global temperatures.
In the past, help in a disaster could always come from “somewhere else” outside of the scope of the disaster. In a globalized world in the era of climate crisis, there is no outside help because there is no “somewhere else.” We are on our own together.
Life in wartime.
On the battlefield you save those you can save with limited resources. Those who can recover on their own are given a safe place to rest and heal. Those who can be saved by immediate intervention are treated first and most intensively. There are also those who will die no matter what is done for them, and the best you can do is to give them enough morphine to make painless their final moments on this Earth. This is called triage: the three-way sorting of casualties.
Field medics are trained to do it with professional objectivity in the heat of battle. At the end of the day come the prayers and the tears, and the tasteless jokes that lessen the pain of harsh decisions that had to be made. The tasteless jokes are not a contradiction to the prayers and tears.
In the future we are facing, we are going to have to make similar choices at the level of individuals, countries, and perhaps whole regions. Some can’t be saved: their condition is too dire; we will have to learn to let them go. Some will make it with minimal intervention. Many will require heroic medicine immediately. And lest the latter sound vaguely romantic, it comes down to this: everything you do, the mundane choices as well as the big decisions, will have to be measured by the standard of how it helps or harms the future of humanity on this planet.
For each person there will come a time when they step over the proverbial line and commit their lives to the future of the whole. Some will volunteer, most will be drafted and go along more or less willingly. Some will instead go AWOL and some will evade, and some of those will face judgement by their fellow humans, or by the harsher hand of nature, or by the hands of time in the words of history.
Again, should this seem vaguely romantic, please disabuse yourself of such notions, and recognize that reality will be far more prosaic: giving up the thought of having another child, giving up the desire for more consumer goods, giving up ease and comfort and convenience. In the past it was easy to go along. In the future it will not be so easy; instead it will be hard. Hard work, hard lives, hard decisions, and hard realities.
We will adjust as we have always done. Our attitudes will adjust as a simple matter of neurophysiological homeostasis, a subject I’ll cover in a future article. Our cultures will adjust accordingly. For now take it as similar to the way your eyes adjust to bright sunlight and then to the darkness of night.
A question of balance.
In part four, “Draconian Overdrive,” I closed with a call to “transcend.” This was not a hint at some kind of transhumanist or other millenarian religious route to a pleasant hereafter or its secular equivalent in silicon. Rather, it implies an attitude toward living in this world, and in particular, living in this new world of ours: letting go of what is transient and superficial, and focusing your life on what is truly lasting and significant.
For everything you sacrifice, there is the chance to replace it with something else of greater value. Worldly goods are transient; good will is lasting. The freedom to consume is superficial; freedom of the spirit is eternal. Consider the trust, gained by necessity and retained by choice, for those with whom you share your goals. Consider unconditional love. Consider learning for its own sake and for the sake of gaining essential skills.
Amidst pervasive discomforts and hardships there will still be happiness, merriment, and profound joy. There will still be the pleasures of the senses and the intellect, the delights of the body and the light of the soul. There will be time for solitude and time for socializing. And despite the fact of hard work and plenty of it, there may very well be more free time than there is in the present days of waning empire.
Life on the new frontier will also have its hazards, some of them fatal; but life in the present rat race (contemplate that phrase for a moment: rat race) can kill you slowly and painfully. In the end you will be able to say that you have truly lived, in a way that would not otherwise have been possible.
One way or another, nature will restore its own balance.
One way or another, each of us will have to seek balance in our own lives.
When you arrive at that point, you will know that you are home.