(originally posted at DailyKos, reposted here for a more deliberative discussion)

Modernity and the Pyrrhic Conquest of Nature

The industrial revolution and capitalism’s overthrow of the millennia-old feudal order transformed humanity’s tools radically, just as the subsequent discovery of petroleum catalyzed a manifold augmentation of their power. Thermodynamics holds that we get nothing for free, but here was a relatively cheap, and, at the time, boundless source of energy. These unparalleled events set in motion the development of modernity: uniquely among living things, humans were freed from the need to establish balance with the immediate ecosystem; a particular environment’s carrying capacity now correlated with the quality of infrastructure far more than any natural characteristics. The population exploded, and civilization became a force rivaling nature.

Financing this extravagance has meant borrowing extensively from an energy "inheritance" accumulated over the eons. Yet, like any inheritance, this one is finite; at some point, we’re going to have to reconcile with this inescapable fact. And it won’t be easy. Modern life would be utterly impossible without oil, which, apart from energy and transportation applications, is used to produce plastics, fertilizers, and a myriad of industrial chemicals. Even a cursory glance at our surroundings reveals the ubiquity of these things, and that should give us severe pause. Alternatives can be synthesized, and it would be a mistake to underestimate humanity’s creative faculties or capacity for technological advance, but, invariably, these are energy intensive. Western civilization’s infatuation perpetual growth is driving us headlong into a collision with entropy.

Darwin’s theory of natural selection proves definitively that we, and all life or organized complexity, evolve gradually from simple beginnings; this elegant truth revolutionized the study of biology and shattered religious creation fables—we are, first and foremost, animals: stardust that our genes shaped into survival machines. Taken together with advances in other areas of science, such as physics, chemistry and geology, a far more comprehensive understanding of the planet’s ecosystem has taken hold: rather than a static orb, Earth is a dynamic system with countless—often tenuous—interrelationships. However, the prevailing ideology and culture, as is often the case, lags behind. Inexorable demand for growth at all costs animates modern capitalist economies, accelerating resource extraction with little regard for consequences. Ecological effects of economic activity are routinely regarded as factors outside production cost, thus, prices—those all-important signals of market discipline—rarely reflect the expense of attenuating harmful consequences. Reinforced by the Abrahamic theological tradition, which holds that God gave humans dominion over the Earth, nature is perceived by a great many people and our most powerful institutions—corporations and nation-states—as something that humanity has subjugated, and can properly exploit.

Reevaluation

This pattern is deeply flawed and unsustainable: its metrics—GDP, inflation, interest rates, unemployment, productivity—make no reference to what is consumed but not replenished; its structural inertia and perversely myopic incentives preempt long term thinking and planning; it styles damage to the biosphere’s life-support capacity "negative externalities" rather than an inherent consideration of each transaction; its hierarchical centralization prioritizes homogeneity over nature’s web of interdependent variance; and its insatiable thirst for "cheap" fossil-fuels sows the seeds of our destruction. If civilization is not to be an evolutionary dead end, humanity must challenge these fundamental assumptions, devising a mode of economic and social organization more immanent in nature—that operates in congruence with its principles rather than trying to supplant them. Our visible disruption of the natural world has forced most governments to enact regulations to limit damage, and virtually all mainstream political parties—conservative, liberal, or social democratic—have environmental planks of some form. But these are half-measures. The greatest challenges humanity faces today—resource depletion, climate change, environmental degradation, overpopulation, widespread poverty and the threat of nuclear omnicide—are global and will require our combined efforts to resolve. Solutions founded upon invalid premises are useless, however, and it is therefore paramount that we understand the character and scope of the problems.

At the heart of our dilemma is our societal energy generation and dissemination system. Projected consumption figures vary widely, depending on the degree of conservation, efficiency, technological advance, prices (which are themselves projections, thereby introducing second order errors), population growth, and economic development factored into the models. Notwithstanding, it’s fairly clear the increases are non-linear, resulting in a doubling of current demand by 2030, even as energy return on energy investment (EROEI) for fossil fuels decreases. Discoveries of new energy reserves have been decreasing for several years, and some analysts claim that we are on the threshold of peak oil production. History suggests that voluntary reversal of the consumption trend is exceedingly unlikely. Competition for scare resources has animated our species’ frequent descents into barbarism from the inception of civilization to the present ill-conceived misadventure in Iraq. There have been many attempts to rationalize the war—each more implausible than the next—but if we approach the question with the same level of skepticism and empirical rigor exercised in scientific endeavors, the answer is fairly plain: oil. Not access to oil, or profit from oil, though those are important ancillary concerns, but effective control of oil. This is no great revelation. Would we have invaded Iraq if their national export were soy beans? I marvel at the intellectually dishonest back flips required to answer affirmatively.

Petroleum coexists as our most important energy resource on one hand, and a "stupendous source of strategic power" on the other. This duality has not gone unnoticed. Since 1945, the focus of American foreign policy in the Middle East has been maintenance of regional hegemony—through assent of client states and surrogates when possible, but by direct application of military force wherever it has been deemed to be in the "national interest." Barring unforeseen and virtually instantaneous innovations in energy production technology, the transition from hydrocarbons to a renewable/fusion-based economy will likely feature a plethora of resource conflicts. Widespread global perception of the U.S. as an aggressive, belligerent power operating in open contempt of international law, combined a weakened non-proliferation framework (which had the ABM treaty, rescinded in 2002, as its cornerstone), may drive countries with a surplus of oil revenue to invest in the development of indigenous nuclear deterrents. Rapid climatic change has the potential to displace tens of millions through famine, disease, drought, flooding, and other extreme weather events, adding more fuel to this already volatile mix. Several of global warming’s predicted effects, like melting polar icecaps, lead to runaway positive feedback loops (seawater absorbs solar radiation whereas glaciers reflect it) and cascading repercussions (inflow of large amounts of fresh water into the North Atlantic could slow thermohaline circulation, wreaking havoc with established climates). And then, there are the profound ethical conundrums.

Successful action on global warming demands sharp reductions in greenhouse gas emissions. Unfortunately, those correlate strongly with industrialization, a well-established prerequisite for economic development. It’s the pinnacle of self-serving hypocrisy to deny a majority of the world’s people, more than a billion of whom live in abject poverty, the opportunity to pursue the path to a better life – especially when we have been burning fossil-fuels with wanton abandon for more than a century. The double standard is enormous and revolting: though Americans represent only 5% of the global population, we consume 25% of its total energy production and emit a corresponding level of CO2. Contrary to what one may initially assume, this is not entirely attributable to the size of our economy: Europe and Japan, which have comparable GDP/capita, consume roughly half the energy/capita as the U.S. (as does California). Our desire to assuage these disparities must, nevertheless, be tempered by the understanding that the biosphere cannot sustain the prospective resource consumption or greenhouse emissions of an even moderately developed Third World (if it follows the traditional model). What’s needed, then, is a true paradigm shift: a technological revolution that frees us from fossil fuel dependency, paralleled by a radical reevaluation of our attitudes toward energy. Such change is inevitable. Either we will engage in systemic efforts to bring it about, or it will be precipitated by catastrophe.

Empathy

Any cooperative social venture, particularly one on a global scale, is contingent upon empathy—and cultivating empathy requires more than factually understanding what others endure. Humans have cognitive biases toward our own senses and memories. This dilemma is compounded by unearned license, whose preservation creates vested interests in not understanding, leading to displacement: the deprived are faulted and disparaged for their condition, which, they are told, is the result of indolence, or immorality—not exploitation; the prevalence of a social arrangement thereby becomes justification for its continuance. As Emma Goldman once said, "the most violent element in society is ignorance." To empathize, we need to broaden our emotional and experiential palettes; through our connections to others, we do this. Empathy allows us to discover the same adversities in other people, rendering mere awareness into tangible solidarity.

Our economic system, unfortunately, commodifies wants and necessities; the myriad of ways in which we make each other’s lives possible vanish into scalar abstraction: prices. This occludes recognition of relationships that would, in past societies, have been self-evident, atomizing and isolating us. It is difficult, for instance, to fully appreciate the adversities faced by farmers, and even harder to actually do something, for we no longer interact daily with those who grow our food. Capitalism ingrains from childhood the "rational" virtue of avarice—that we should amass as much property as possible not only to maximize personal benefit, but to produce the best societal outcome. Little wonder that, bolstered by this masterwork of self-serving apology, many internalize and live this ethic, guiltlessly. For the vast majority, however, the "invisible hand" is Vader’s choking grasp.

Though even here, in his supposed inner sanctum, the past yields ample evidence that we are not slaves to the basest facets of our nature; the abolitionist, suffrage, labor, civil rights and anti-war movements are quintessential models of organized popular sovereignty’s immense power—ones we should replicate. After all, the recognized International Labor Day, May 1st, commemorates events that took place in the United States.

Progressive politics can only flourish—indeed, are only possible—to the degree that civil society and empathy are vibrant. We'd do well to heed that lesson, and even better to actualize it.