Why write during collapse?

If it seems I’ve been especially doom-filled recently, you’d be correct. I had a come-to-terms-with-collapse moment where I realized, not just that industrial civilization is on a downward-spiral, but also that there’s a very real possibility humanity itself will not survive the turn of the century. Even if we do, in all likelihood we’ll be several billion fewer by that point.

In this context, it seems kind of futile to write a newsletter about anarchy, published on a digital platform emblematic of the kind of unsustainable technology and culture we’re in. It’s one thing to try and save a dying civilization — the anarchist answer would be that ours doesn’t deserve saving. It’s another to contemplate the extinction of the species, along with most major life on Earth. We can survive the collapse of capitalism and industry; we lived without them for hundreds of thousands of years, and we can do so again. We can’t survive the collapse of phytoplankton populations. If they go, the oxygen goes with them, and then so do we.

It got me thinking, if we’re witnessing the last generation ever being born right now, what’s the point of writing this newsletter?

It can’t be for legacy, if there might not be one a century from now, and if the infrastructure supporting this newsletter won’t last long anyway. It can’t be for affecting change here and now, if by that I mean contributing to some imagined project of saving the world, if in fact we’re past the point of saving. Both of these are very hard to give up.

One reason to keep going is that we don’t know for sure what will happen. Another is because we’re alive now, and we might as well keep doing what we’d like to do during the time we have. Both are at play for me here.

But I think it’s important to acknowledge that, in truth, I did harbor delusions of grandeur. Maybe all authors do, since we have the audacity to believe our words deserve an audience. And sometimes they do. But for me, I really did want to save the world. In lieu of saving it myself, I want everyone to come together to save it. I want my voice to be a small piece of a larger picture of redemption, rescue, recovery. And it may yet. The world is bigger than my feelings of doom.

I was surprised at the strength of those feelings, though, when I wrestled with the real implications of climate collapse. I’m chalking it up to Christian carryover: part of me still wants to convert people to a righteous cause; part of me still feels responsible for the fate of other souls; part of me still balks at the idea of defeat, and insists that good triumphs over evil — it just has to.

And that’s where the urgency comes in: the shoulds, the have tos, the musts, the higher and higher stakes, this is life and death, our very souls are on the line, think of the future, think of the children, can’t you think of anything but yourself.

I hear this urgency almost everywhere, dwarfed only by the apathy of those doing business as usual. It doesn’t have to be explicitly religious: it’s easy for those of us who are collapse-aware to get agitated about what people are and aren’t doing. It’s easy to turn the magnifying glass on ourselves and our movements, instead of on the people directly responsible for the vast majority of the damage being done.

While there’s a place for the gadfly, there’s a reason why this urgency in general doesn’t work: guilt and shame are not good motivators. As emotions, they’re depressants. They make us defensive and avoidant; they keep us in denial. They also bounce right off the dead souls of those who most need to feel the prick of conscience.

Anger is a much better motivator. While I’m not responsible for the vast majority of greenhouse gas emissions, that unholy privilege does belong to a few billionaires, with addresses and assets that look increasingly vulnerable (more Luigi Mangiones, anyone?).

Grief also gets in the way of action, but when faced it can become a source of wisdom and creativity. We must reckon with what we’ve lost, if we want to function well in the present. We must reckon with what we are losing, and what we will lose, if we value honesty and integrity.

But there it is again, that “must.” I think it’s part of the problem.

Capital relies on the complicity of its subjects in order to continue. We have to internalize the way the machine runs. We have to run ourselves down like machines. This endless running will continue as long as productivity and profit are the engines of society. And until we break from that thinking, we are all of us complicit, especially as we bear witness to ongoing genocide and prove unable and unwilling to stop it.

So what I won’t be doing in these letters is telling anyone what to do or how to do it. Giving and taking orders is one of the many obstacles in the way of the good life.

Instead, here’s what to expect from Anarchy Unfolds moving forward:

Reading-list deep dives

• There are so many excellent volumes I want to share with you all — starting, of course, with G.K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy, which I’ve already written about here and here. Turns out I have a lot more to say!

• Another one on my plate is The Origins and Role of Same-Sex Relations in Human Societies by James Neil, a paradigm-shifting collection of history, anthropology, and biology, showing how homosexuality in humans is inherited from millions of years of evolution, and millennia of social and cultural development. The only unnatural thing is to pretend homosexuality is somehow unnatural.

• There’s also The World Behind the World by Erik Hoel at The Intrinsic Perspective, a guide to the science of consciousness; Riding the Wind by Peter Marshall, a philosophy for our times; and Sex Panic and the Punitive State by Roger N. Lancaster, an exposé of how the state uses sexual panic as a weapon of control.

Queer anarchist history

• There’s actually quite the overlap! I’m especially interested in the century of gay rights work before Stonewall. From Karl Heinrich Ulrichs and The Public Universal Friend, to Magnus Hirschfeld and Benedict Friedlaender, there is a rich history to unearth before the first stone was thrown.

Untangling issues

• Right now I’m in the weeds of deep ecology and primitivism. Is there any way to maintain a technological civilization without violently disrupting ecological cycles beyond repair? For me, the jury is out. If so, then it’s merely a question of political-economy, which we can answer pretty clearly, despite the enormous social challenges of implementing solutions. If not, and we went wrong with the advent of agriculture… well, we’ll find out soon enough what happens when it’s no longer physically possible to maintain our fossil-fueled way of life.

• Previously I’ve touched on queer discourse, and I plan to say more about greenwashing, the manosphere, and the church and its discontents. While we still have the grid, it’s research as leisure activity for the win!

Politics and pop culture

• There’ll be space for commentary on current events, when the mood strikes a chord. Previously, this has included Palestine, the Met Gala, open letters to Substack, conspiracies, and Barbie.

• I have no desire to discuss my country falling apart; there are many other voices covering those beats and it just makes me depressed. Instead, I’m interested in exploring how the upside-down shows up in what we take for granted, and imagining ways we can overturn it.

If that sounds like your style, then you’re in the right place. Thanks for sticking with me.

Thank you for reading Anarchy Unfolds. This publication is entirely supported by my readers. Each subscription helps grow the networks we need to overturn the upside-down. If you value this work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. I’m always grateful for your time and attention.