What will it take to overcome our optimistic delusions of planetary control? Can we stop pretending we’re only facing a problem to be solved and begin seeking a way to adapt to our predicament?

In the Washington Post opinion section, an editor recently wrote the following: “What Americans need is a more quickly rising standard of living and the optimism that comes with it.” That’s a fairly succinct representation of the narrative that got us to where we are today. And our collective and individual inability to see past it is also representative of why we’re blind to the general infeasibility of the renewable energy future that’s been prescribed for us. It’s why we’re failing this moment, and all the other moments in the past few decades, in which we might have helped ourselves and our fellow endangered beings.

Questioning the Assumptions and Implications

Let’s take a closer look at this statement. Is what we need most a more quickly rising standard of living? Does everyone need it or, more specifically, is it needed by those on the less fortunate end of the economic continuum? What exactly is the standard of living that we need? And is it supposed to keep rising from there? Will it bring everyone to some point of parity or will it be a tiered rise from where one is today? Will it undo the centuries of colonization and impoverishment of so many people to support that ever-rising standard of living that Americans seemingly need and deserve? Is it just Americans that need and deserve this? And if somehow we do attain this more quickly rising standard of living, will it really address the lack of optimism we feel? Will it fix the climate crisis, the nuclear threat, the brutal wars in Ukraine, Sudan, the Middle East and elsewhere on the planet? Will we wake up to abundant sound of birdsong again and find that the pollinators are back in the garden? Or will it add to the problems as we find more things to spend our money on thanks to this rising standard of living? Are these things we actually need? Where will they be manufactured and where will the materials be sourced from? Who will be extracting these resources and doing this manufacturing if everyone’s standard of living goes up equivalently?

Well, okay — it could be a rough life spent taking every statement apart like that. But far too often we read right over statements like this without even checking their reasonableness. They’re generally so congruent with the many untruths we’ve been exposed to all our lives but don’t make the time and effort to question that this just fits right in with the rest of the world as we know it automatically. We’ve lost sight of the reality, the truth of the world. We’ve developed blind spots in our awareness of both the internal and the external world. Our cognition is now wired to see things differently. We’re programmed for a different truth.

Let’s not look away from the realities of representative statements such as this one. Unless we’re willing to examine them carefully and discuss their assumptions and implications, we continue to lack the insight needed for envisioning something that might be an authentic version of a future. If we do look away from the realities of representative statements like this, we’re engaged in a consensual game of pretending that everything is and will be alright without having to change our fundamental assumptions about the world and the behaviors associated with holding those assumptions. Again, this is how we got here. A great deal of harm has been done en route.

The Breadth and Depth of Our Pretending

This game of pretending really may be the most pervasive and detrimental form of climate denial. Until recently, when people referred to others as “climate deniers,” they generally were referring to people who provided the most facile of arguments for why there’s no such thing as climate change and their motivation most often was political alignment. But when we see climate change as real, when we’re genuinely concerned about its impacts, when we’ve put in the effort to learn a fair amount about it, and then we make the conscious decision to go all-in behind the “new green economy” and all its technological solutions as the answer to what we’re so concerned about, it could be we’ve made a conscious decision not to look at an overwhelming number of critical aspects. We’ve determined that it’s too hard to deal with the fact that this approach is more of the same of what has brought us to this point, that it will cost other less privileged people their health or their lives, that we’ll be gouging out the Earth at a level never before done on the planet to extract minerals of which there already are not enough for what’s needed, that we’ll do all this and so much more and we’ll still fail. We’ve grabbed on to the hope that if we pretend that it will work despite what’s known, we won’t have to give up the the world as we’ve known it, the way of life, the standard of living, that we’re so hooked on but also so certain that we deserve.

To substantiate the make-believe project, we’ve further agreed to a measurement system that contains the same earmarks of human exceptionalism and its entitlement assumptions and behaviors that brought us to the current juncture. First, measuring the global temperature is one indicator of the state of the world, but it’s beyond reductionistic in terms of a lens on what’s really going on within the Earth’s planetary system. Second, and even more tellingly, focusing on climate in a way that measures how far we can push things — i.e., 1.5 degrees celsius, or can we maybe get away with 2.0?; what about 2.5, can we go that far? — underpins a fundamental misunderstanding of how nature works but also about our place in it as a keystone species. Attempting to see how far we can push this planetary system — before what?; before we’ll really get serious about personal and societal change? — is a clear indicator of a belief that we can manage and control this system, the nature of which we’re but a part. To be constructing empty global agreements at annual Potemkin conferences in an attempt to “manage planetary boundaries” for as long as we can push them is an indicator of the depth of both our denial and our unfounded belief in our ability to control everything on Earth.

Of course, pretending and being in denial are not the same thing. To pretend is to behave as if something is true when one actually knows that it’s not. Pretending is often a kind of wishful thinking. Even though we know better, our pretending often proceeds without our noticing that we’re doing it. Assumptions go unchecked as we let the world as we know it condition our daily actions and reactions so that life is easier, more successful, at least by the definitions we’ve also been conditioned to go along with.

Denial, on the other hand, is a psychological defense mechanism. Generally an unconscious process, denial is the mind’s attempt to protect a person from a reality too distressing or even too painful to face and accept. Both to pretend and to deny are at some level uncomfortable behaviors because they involve a precarious act of balancing across two (or more) realities. We may have accepted the cognitive dissonance involved but it isn’t necessarily easy to live with. Though different, to pretend and to deny are integrally linked at a critical juncture in which pretending becomes self-deception. Pretending across a number of dimensions or for any prolonged period of time can escalate so that the pretend reality becomes one’s perception of actual reality. At this point, the mind is in denial. While pretending was at some level still a choice, once one is at the defense-mechanism level of denial, there’s much less conscious choice available.

What starts out as wishful thinking that the trouble our world is in is not the case can become self-deception and actual denial when one gets locked into or so overwhelmed by the state of things. But in the end, this only makes things worse as we aren’t personally and collectively responding to the situation in the most constructive ways. The result is no more than a pyrrhic victory as it’s simply putting our heads in the sand, not moving toward any kind of actual safety. What will it take to end our personal and collective denial, or even our everyday pretending about the state of the world and the fact that we have already pushed too far what we could never have managed?

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Perhaps a place to start is coming to understand that either our pretending or our denial is much broader and much deeper than what we call “climate change.” Concerns, or lack of concerns, about climate has become a singular focus for both argument and action. But the world we exist in is collapsing on many more fronts and the ideological assumptions and associated behaviors that are the water we’ve been swimming in for generations go far beyond whether we do or don’t believe the climate is changing. Climate change, while a significant symptom in its own right, has become a catch-all phrase that has not proven itself as useful as it might once have been thought to be. At the very least, it hasn’t served to penetrate the breadth and depth of what we’re able to pretend about. Just a few examples . . .

We’re pretending that we live on a planet without limits. We’re pretending ecomodernist technology is not dependent upon massive damage to the Earth’s surface as we must dig deeper and in more locations for the dwindling supply of minerals required. We’re pretending this process is not detrimental to the life and health of the people who must do this extraction nor to the ecosystems that are destroyed as we do so.

We’re pretending renewable energy sources are clean, that they don’t require fossil fuels for their manufacture and perpetuation nor do they add to the toxic pollution of water, air, and land. We’re pretending the wind and solar farms don’t require massive deforestation, damage to wildlife migration routes and patterns, damage to nearby water sources, and destruction of biodiversity including off-shore.

But then we’re also pretending that these renewable energy sources are actually replacing oil, gas, and coal when in reality we’re just adding the renewables to our still increasing use of fossil fuels. And then there’s the fact that we’re pretending that the root of our whole problem (that is, if we aren’t pretending we don’t have a problem) is fossil fuels.

We’re pretending that war is neither a human rights nor a climate disaster. We’re pretending that militaries don’t consume enormous amounts of fossil fuels — through production, transport, and every firing of artillery and missiles, rocket launch, and plane take-off — contributing directly to global heating. We’re pretending that bombings and other methods of modern warfare aren’t detrimental to wildlife and biodiversity, killing up to 90% of large animals in an area of conflict. We’re pretending that the pollution from war does not contaminate the water, soil, and air long-term, making it unsafe for agriculture or habitation by humans and wildlife often for years to come.

We’re pretending that science is more than an important method of inquiry; we’re pretending it’s a provider of fool-proof answers to all of our questions and needs. We’re pretending that by “following the science” we can’t ever go wrong. We’re pretending that science is looking at our entire complex adaptive planetary system as a whole and there will be no need to keep looking across this system to identify and understand unintended consequences as well as complete missteps.

We’re pretending there’s nothing about nature, of which we’re but a part, that is beyond the comprehension of science and may even be best just left alone, or at least adapted to rather than forcing everything to adapt to us.

We’re pretending that the modern technological solutions to agricultural challenges haven’t destroyed soil, water, biodiversity, and the quality of our food globally. We’re pretending there are no coming shortages in the food production system. We’re pretending that consigning our food, our health, and so many other crucial aspects of our lives to multinational corporations has been good for us and our future (rather than mostly feeding a profit machine for institutions whose interests are not the same as ours).

We’re pretending that the microplastics coming off our clothing, the tires of our vehicles, the toys our children play with, the containers for just about everything we purchase, are not strangling wildlife as well as ourselves everywhere everyday.

We’re pretending we recycle plastic when in reality only 9% of the plastic we collect and faithfully deposit is actually recycled. But even worse, we’re pretending that this action and some other well-intended but generally futile efforts are actually offsetting our prolific consumption of things that in every sense of the word are truly not needed. We’re pretending that if we vote the right people into office they will take steps toward the more meaningful actions for change that we don’t have the power to take. (Please note that this has made little to no difference thus far.)

And underneath all of this, we’re all pretending together that the way our modern society has progressed to this point has been a good thing for us and all the rest of life on this planet. We’re pretending it would be against the natural progress of things to dial back this endless trajectory of growth (a trajectory we’re pretending could actually be endless) and to radically change our lifestyles to be in accord with nature of which we’re but a part. We’re pretending to do so would be to subject ourselves to a life that is much less than what we could possibly enjoy or even survive. We’re pretending it would be too hard, as if others in the world haven’t always done it, and as if the way we’re living today isn’t hard as hell in its own (albeit different) ways and won’t keep becoming immeasurably harder still if we continue to make no meaningful changes while trying to pretend the climate isn’t changing dramatically all around us.

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In fairness, it’s a lot easier to continue pretending (or to remain in denial) when those of us doing the pretending are generally so far removed from the production systems. Most of us don’t know where our food comes from or how it was produced. Unless we’re among the already marginalized in our societies, we don’t live anywhere near where our clothes and other products we purchase are manufactured nor do we have to see, smell, or taste the air and water pollution or, in some cases, the forced labor associated with it. We don’t directly experience the clouds of emissions coming from the coal stacks firing the plants where our electricity is generated once we’ve flipped a switch in the office or at home. We don’t have to know about the rare earth and other minerals in our cell phones, computers, tools, and battery-operated toys for our kids and pets. Fuel for our cars come out of a convenient pump or charger, and even those values-laden solar panels on the roof of the house don’t give us a clue about the toxic materials and fossil fuels that went into manufacturing them.

Of course most of this was intentional. Much of what we don’t know about or experience is outsourced so we don’t have to know about or experience it. And yet, while most of it is still apparent to those paying attention, we can and do make decisions every day to continue pretending or to remain in denial. The messages feeding this consensual game of pretend about the world as we know it have been permeating our daily lives for as far back as most of us can remember. That’s what makes it work.

So we heedlessly continue to pretend that the high-tech, high-energy, high-cost solutions presented to us by for-profit entities will keep everything we already know in place. They will be the instruments of management and control of a world seemingly spinning in the opposite direction. We pretend this ecomodernist technological path, this new green economy, will keep us from having to change anything and all will be well. We pretend these solutions are guaranteed to succeed, and even if they aren’t quite right at this point, we have time to work out the kinks later. There’s plenty of time to get this right . . .

Do We Have A Problem or a Predicament?

In his book At Work in the Ruins, Dougald Hine refers to the work of John Michael Greer in which he makes the distinction between a “problem” and a “predicament.” Greer points out that a problem has a solution. A problem can be fixed and then the problem disappears without having radically altered the context in which it existed. A predicament, on the other hand, has no solution. You can’t get rid of it, you can only learn to live with it. Some predicaments are easier to live with than others, and some of us are better at responding or adapting to predicaments than others are. But in any case, we’re stuck with the predicament.

Hine maintains that the industrial society in which we live has shown itself to be more confident in its ability to solve problems than in any previous time in our known history. But at what cost?

[This industrial society] would come to see the world as a puzzle, a set of problems to be solved. Over time however, more and more of the problems it encountered would be the consequences of its earlier solutions. Meanwhile, it seemed to lose the knack of recognizing a predicament or knowing what kinds of actions still make sense when faced with one. Even now, when it faces forces of disruption quite as overwhelming as those which broke [at the onset of industrial times], the only responses our society can imagine are solutions: innovations that would allow us to resume a pre-existing trajectory of progress, growth or development, only with solar cells and vat-grown meat.

Dougald Hine in “At Work in the Ruins”

What’s coming at us in the world today and what’s coming soon from just around the corner is more than most of us know how to think about. Little wonder we’re engaged in some heavy wishful thinking or even denial. Even if we’re facing it head on, when we don’t know how to think about something so unknown, so unforeseen, it’s particularly tempting to leave it to someone else to figure out. But “figuring it out,” “solving it,” is understanding the situation we face as a problem. It’s actually easier to think about when we understand instead that it’s a predicament we’re in. It’s the reality of our world today and we can’t get around that. It’s where we’ve arrived at in this point in time. But that doesn’t mean we throw up our hands in despair and then go find a place to curl up into a ball forever.

Rather, we respond, finding constructive ways to adapt to it, to move forward while not making it any worse. Pretending it away or denying the existence of our predicament only puts off learning to live with what’s ahead for us. There’s a point at which we have to let go. We have to accept that it isn’t going to be okay if okay only means the world as we’ve known it won’t end. It will end. It already is ending. But that’s the world as we’ve known it ending, not the world itself ending. When we let go of hoping our old world will be okay, we can start moving toward the world as it’s going to be, as it’s already becoming. It will be different. It will be hard. But the world we’ve always known has also been hard if just in different ways. And given the chance, the planet (an entity unimaginably more comprehensive than “our world”) will move through this cycle as it has through others over its 4.54 billion years of existence. And, if given a chance, our species also could live on for some time to come, just as it has for the past 330,000 years. At least for this moment, that “chance” is up to us, to our species.

Instead of asking what big technologies we can come up with to hold onto the old world, the question becomes one of how those of us that are here now will live in the new world, what our new way of life will be. It’s almost certain to be more difficult, more painful, if we cling to the idea of it as a much lesser version of our old world. It’s unlikely that we can even imagine this new world from within the assumptions and conditioning of our old world. None of us can say for sure what the future holds, but letting go of this idea of a “lesser version” will help us as we prepare for the conditions before us and be adaptable as they continue to change. We’ll get better at this. We’ll find new things to love and appreciate. And that will be easier if we stay mindful of our assumptions, of their implications and associated behaviors. It will be easier if we don’t pretend or deny things are other than they are (imagine that), or lose the ability to discern when things are a predicament to accept, respond and adapt to. As always, the first step is awareness. Let’s get on with it.

Wake up!
Life is transient
Swiftly passing -- 
Be aware
The Great Matter 
Don't waste time

"classic Zen admonition that Suzuki Roshi had scrawled not long before his death across the face of the wooden sounding block that called us to meditation six times a day at Tassajara" 
From "The Truth of This Life: Zen Teachings on Loving the World as It Is" by Katherine Thanas 

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