"Thanks to our bodies, God has joined us so closely to the world around us that we can feel the desertification of the soil almost as a physical ailment, and the extinction of a species as a painful disfigurement." - Pope Francis, Laudato si'
Perhaps an opening exercise in embodied reflection on the sorry state of the U.S. farm belt might lend more weight to the discussion of deep adaptation versus deep transformation below. I invite you, then, to feel with me the Heartland hurting as we imagine the big hurt put on it, beginning with the nasty bruises from soybean tariffs (prompting a $15B salve from Emerald City). Now, let's absorb the body blow and struggle with the loss of breath from record flooding, with Nebraska and large swathes of other grain-belt states under water and thousands of farmers throwing in the towel on planting. OK, let's catch our breath and brace ourselves before taking several gut-punches: debt-induced suicides, spiking opioid ODs, closing hospitals (the new term is "healthcare desert").
We're doubled over but not down. We stand our ground, as resilient and uncomplaining mid-westerners do, determined not to fall into denial and despair.
Now we turn inward and attend to the stress-induced fatigue and anxiety that's built up through decades of disinvestment and brain drain and growing unease over the
approaching demographic cliff (a huge number of Boomer farmers will retire soon, and so far the replacement numbers are dismal). Who will farm the fields, husband the animals, tend to the beehives, plant the trees? Agri-Bots?
Gazing now in time-lapse fashion at landscape changes from 1950 to the present, we feel how parched we're becoming as we watch the soils washing away and the vast watershed's infrastructure aging and failing more frequently (no help from Emerald City on that, at least not yet). We notice as well the growing signs of Ogallala Aquifer tap-out (when, not if, the million-plus water pumps run dry in large numbers after decades of massive over-drafting, then it's truly game over for industrial agri-biz; this is arguably the biggest elephant in the regional room, followed by the decaying dikes, levees, dams, bridges, etc.). OK, enough is enough, let's take a drink of water from the well...on second thought, let's not after noticing the county has condemned it.
We're wickedly sore all over, weary, worried, and thirsty--but still breathing.
As we recover, we might reflect on the fact that U.S. grain-reserve programs for food security quietly went away two decades ago. We recall how priorities shifted. Since 9/11 the U.S. government has spent almost $6 trillion fighting an endless "war on terror" across the globe, with counter-terror operations in 80 countries. And we recall further how, during this time, the U.S. military emitted 1.2 billion metric tons in greenhouse gases even as it continued to study the national-security implications of climate change while ignoring a major, breakthrough effort in strategic planning by its own people that addresses the challenges in a humane, holistic way.
Going forward, recovery (or restoration) may be the most accurate descriptor of our shared state, and not just descriptive of post-industrial-ag states. And here our exercise ends. My hope is that it may help you, as it has helped me, to take the full measure of what's at stake in the recent debate over deep adaptation versus deep transformation, to which I now turn.
Last July, UK-based sustainability leadership expert Jem Bendell raised eyebrows with the online release of a paper that reads the latest climate science as confirmation of "inevitable near-term social collapse" due to (already) runaway climate change. On this Cassandriac view, coming soon are widespread food shortages resulting from what a recent UN report on disaster risk refers to as "multiple breadbasket failure," which researchers say will be caused primarily by more record-setting extreme weather events in multiple locales. In addition, Jem soberly notes the cascading effects of other climate-related, stress-to-the-breaking-point phenomena impacting social systems in both the global North and global South (though poor nations in the latter will feel the pain first, experience it more intensely, and endure it longer). Echoing many climate experts, he worries most about massive release of greenhouse gases--methane especially--from sooner-than-expected Arctic meltdown; in this scenario, the feedback loop grows in intensity and renders climate change unmanageable for any future generation. Yet even before that nightmare, it's night-night for predatory capitalism within a few decades; the predator now is prey for an angry beast it cannot tame.
Acceptance of this very inconvenient truth, and a courageous grappling with the despair it evokes, need not result in resignation and political passivity, or so Jem argues. Rather, through the dark night of acceptance-despair (and it is at heart a spiritual journey, he holds), one can emerge with transformed personal vision and new-found strength to face the daunting survival challenges ahead and join with others to think through and enact a "deep adaptation agenda" of resilience, relinquishment, and restoration for living compassionately and creatively in renewed local communities--come what may. In short, Jem embraces a "radical hope" for love in the ruins (I wonder, has he read Percy's prophetic novel?).
Note as well that Jem's ethical-political agenda includes a radical proposal for collective action aimed at achieving (partial, painfully inadequate) climate mitigation. Why bother, if society is toast? Because we love our children and thus must strive with all our being to achieve the minimal yet truly vital goal of avoiding an even worse fate--human extinction--which is now a real possibility in his view.
Among serious theological voices grappling with the existential-risk issues Jem addresses, Jack Miles comes foremost to mind. Indeed, now is a good time to return to his seminal essay titled "Global Requiem: The Apocalyptic Moment in Religion, Science, and Art" (2000).
Meanwhile, the deep-adaptation stance articulated by Jem has resonated widely and generated much discussion online among environmentalists, sustainability professionals, academic researchers, and public intellectuals engaged with the climate crisis. His thinking is influential with Extinction Rebellion activists, and hundreds of people are active on the recently established Deep Adaptation Forum.
The many in deep denial aside, among Jem's most thoughtful critics is UK cultural historian Jeremy Lent, who argues instead for radical commitment to "deep transformation" and the emergence of an Ecological Civilization. In both his historical-structural critique of late capitalism and his articulation of a constructive-postmodern alternative, Jeremy echoes Pope Francis, Thomas Berry, Sallie McFague, Catherine Keller, David Korten, Douglas Rushkoff and fellow travelers at Team Human, and Joe Holland, among others. His ethical-practical template for confronting Empire's penchant for self-inflicted crises and indifference to human suffering is the powerful hybrid of classical Hebrew prophecy (including the prophet Yeshua ben Nazareth) and modern social movements.
Jeremy's complaint against Jem's inevitable-near-term-social-collapse thesis is twofold: for one, he objects in principle to any definitive prognosis regarding our collective future, given what chaos and system theorists say about non-linear dynamics and historical contingency (and, I would add, what Nassim Taleb says about the impact of "black swan events" in history); and for another, he fears many will miss the positive, liberating, and deeply ethical-spiritual implications of Jem's acceptance-despair stance and conclude instead that with midnight nearing on the Titanic and far too few lifeboats in sight, one may as well drink, dance, and sex(t) while one can. Jeremy replies with a defense of the need for the climate-conscious to process fully and honestly the magnitude of what's in store even as they "fight like hell for the living" (Mother Jones) in and through a growing Extinction Rebellion and other climate-justice movements.
I introduce this debate to readers for several reasons. First, in an increasingly risky, runaway world the issues raised by Jem and Jeremy, and the insights they bring to bear on them, could not be more relevant and important to our shared future. Second, the logic, civility, philosophical acumen, and humanity on display in their exchange is a model of respectful, serious dialogue we all need to emulate going forward as the heat, atmospheric and emotional, continues to climb. And third, it's always good to step outside the states and listen to what others are saying--even if it's just two privileged white guys across the pond.
So, take the time soon--maybe during the Fourth of July break--to engage these thinkers, beginning with Jem's dark gem of a reflection on deep adaptation from last July, then Jeremy's initial reply, and then Jem's response. It sure beats watching Trump's self-coronation spectacle.