sustainable style foundation*

When I talk about the apocalypse with my parents, they never believe it’s going to happen. They are part of the baby boomer generation, and when they were growing up, they thought an apocalypse would happen too. I mean, the Cold War did have the potential to be the end. There was a lot of crazy stuff happening. Then again, there’s always tons of crazy stuff happening all the time. The invention of the internet gave us faster access to information, faster communication, which I imagine would have provided us with more accessible reasons and theories to believe that the apocalypse is coming.

A couple summers ago, I worked at the Long Now Foundation, this non-profit foundation dedicated to Long Term Thinking. The idea of this organization is to help promote a conceptualization of time that allocates 200 years to the present moment, that is, a couple centuries in the past and the future, in hopes that people will live and plan for the future differently. The host lectures on all sorts of topics related to technology and long term thinking, and the foundation is definitely a reaction to the short sightedness that have speeded up the humans’ march to their own demise. Since then, I’ve been picking up pretty consistent crumbs of knowledge all with the kind of “oh shit, guys, look!” message attached to it. It’s like I’m Gretel following the trail of crumbs to the witches house where she’s got the child-stew pot all hot, ready, and full of carrots.

The most recent crumb I’ve discovered came in the form of this documentary I saw a couple weeks ago called “The End of Suburbia.” In this documentary, they explain in detail what is happening with oil production in the world, and then puts it into our American cultural-historical context, taking our current and past oil usage into account. To make a long, complicated, really-you-need-to-watch-this-movie story short, oil production has been increasing for a long time. We have become used to it being plentiful. The point of peak production, however, is upon us, and may have already happened. This means that there will be less and less oil every year until it’s gone, which in turn will have ramifications that hit all parts of society. This wouldn’t be a problem if we had alternative, sustainable sources of energy, but we don’t, and it seems as if it’s too late to invent enough ways of producing it to make up for all the oil we won’t be able to afford. Take a moment, and think about all the things in the world that depend on oil to operate. What will happen when transportation, food, all imported products are prohibitively expensive? How will we eat? How will we get around? What is life going to look like?

Needless to say, this documentary made me nervous. I’m optimistically apocalyptic, but the cast of experts didn’t leave very much light at the end of the tunnel. I felt helpless. If all this crazy stuff is going to happen, and we know it’s going to happen, what could we do to prepare? How should we change our lifestyle now so that the imminent future is less of a shock?

Most of all, I wondered what the very experts on this documentary were doing. They seemed to know what the situation was. And sure, they dedicated their work to spreading the message of what is happening all over and trying to help find solutions. But what are these experts doing to prepare for the coming era? What kind of precautions is they are personally taking? What are they doing daily and in the long term to brace themselves for the dark days that seem to be ahead of us?

So I asked them. I sent out emails to the members of the cast of the documentary, and guess what? I got a few responses. Below are the responses I received.

From James Howard Kunstler- New urbanist, lecturer and author of Home From Nowhere, The Geography of Nowhere and The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition, and The Long Emergency:

“I'm not doing anything heroic or stupendous, Arianna. I made my most important long-term decision thirty years ago when I moved to a classic "main street small town” in upstate NY. I have gardening skills. I have deployed my savings for "capital preservation."

“Anyway, I've already outlived Babe Ruth, Mozart, MLK, and Jesus Christ.

“IMO, one of the most important decisions a young person can make is where to live. For example -- check the "no" box on Phoenix or Las Vegas. I'm not to keen on the whole sunbelt, in fact. Then, of course, you need to think about a vocation that will make you useful to your fellow man, preferably something direct, hands-on.

“Seems to me that most of these things are self-evident. What's more of a problem may be that many young people lack experience and confidence in their ability to cope. That can only come from accomplishing the things you set out to do and demonstrating to yourself that you are a competent grown up -- especially that you know the difference between wishing for stuff and making things happen.

From Randy Udall- Director Emeritus of the Aspen, Colorado based Community Office for Resource Efficiency, CORE, promoting renewable energy and energy efficiency:

“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

“Look.... just think of this as a dance. Kunstler is right, it will be a long emergency, but no one has defined "long". It may take decades to fully play out. At least you will have read one of the advance "scripts," so you will have some idea what is happening. But a great deal of it is unpredictable, literally can't be predicted. So, I think young people have to be light on their toes. Acquire useful skills, keep learning, and preserve a sense of humor. More expensive energy is not the end of suburbia, or the end of anything. It's just a turning point, a fateful one to be sure. So, again, it will be a dance, with some heartache and some joy. Trust me, Steve [Andrews] and I would love to be around long enough to see what the world is like in 2050. We won't. You will.”

From Kenneth Deffeyes- Petroleum geologist, researcher for Shell Oil and author of the definitive analysis on Peak Oil: Hubbert's Peak; the Impending World Oil Shortage. Professor Emeritus at Princeton University.

“Two suggestions:

“Look at www.princeton.edu/hubbert/ and click on Current Events. I posted that yesterday.

“When I was a graduate student (50 years ago) I was working in the Nevada basins and had a terrible fear of rattlesnakes. I read Kauber's two-volume work on rattlesnakes and it helped enormously to handle the problem. (It wasn't just a neurosis, Nevada did have rattlesnakes.) Become an oil-peak guru. It doesn't solve the problem, but it helps to handle the problem.”

From Richard, the guy who clears the info box and works for the Association for the Study of Peak Oil in Ireland (He responded to the inquiry I sent to Colin Campbell, convener and editor of ASPO):

“So, you've opened Pandora's box and are wondering how to put everything back in? We in the business call it your 'peak oil moment'. I had mine while visiting a friend in San Francisco at the end of 2004 when he gave me a copy of Richard Heinberg's book 'The Party's Over'… My discovery of peak oil prompted me to do a masters in sustainable energy last year and another one this year on environmental policy.

“Check out www.youtube.com/aspo6”

Receiving the responses has been comforting, though it seems there’s not a lot of drastic measures you can take. No one knows what is actually going to happen, but I feel better knowing that I’m doing something at all. To be informed and to inform others is one of the best ways of preparing, though if I lived in a place like Pheonix, I’d look into moving some land on which it was maybe a little easier to farm. This spring, I’m planting a vegetable garden. You gotta start somewhere.

Like most people, I have had this vision of what my life would look like when I’m all grown up since I was a kid. It involves a big house in the country, with big bay windows, a big kitchen, a big garden with lots of fruits, veggies, and herbs, and tons of art facilities to make stuff. There are natural waterways very close by, forests, mountains, warm summers, and cozy yet mild winters. What completes the image are the people: friends and family blending to become one. Stories told around the fire pit outside. Gardening and art making sessions happening while angel headed children run around barefoot outside, climbing trees and picking blackberries for pie. Communal meals at a long table with everyone helping out to cook and clean the dishes afterwards.

As I read and read and read about what’s happening around us, reports of the events of the day, and predictions for tomorrow, I cannot help but wonder what the answer is to all of these social/political/environmental struggles/catastrophes with which we are faced. As much as I search for answers, an immediate solution is never apparent, but a long-term inevitability is: we’re going to have to live a simpler, more local life. We are going to have to cooperate with our community, and support each other. We’re going to have to condense our use of resources in our living situations. The end of suburbia means an end to every family’s home/castle. Higher density living is eco-friendly, cheap, and I think a refreshing change from the real life isolation that has seemed to develop with internet social networking devices. People will be people again, instead of profiles on the internet.

It seems like a long way away, but I guess my dream of the future might come true. Last night I saw Survivorman for the first time and I have to say that finding a way to buy some remote land and start a little self-sustaining compound sounds nicer and nicer. But I don’t want to live in isolation, giving up friends and communication and culture. Maybe the solution is co-habitation. Sharing houses. Giving up the monster house with rooms hardly used and having a cozier, more communal situation. Can you imagine actually knowing (and maybe even liking) your neighbors? Having a community farm to work at? Entertainment provided by your friends down the street? We will have the ability to create our own culture collectively. I think the future is a great opportunity to change the way we relate to each other. And to make everything we do not about money or selling things. It won’t be about making it big because there won’t be a big to make. Or at least, there will be less of one. Anyway, I’m ready to be friends with people I talk to face to face, on a regular basis. It’s way harder to hate people when you know them and cooperate with them.

Honestly, I figure the best way to prepare for whatever comes next is to start this local cooperation now. See who’s part of your community, reach out, get to know your neighbors. We are our greatest resource.

That said, I want to let you all know about this little project I’m starting. It’s a skillshare. Every month, we will gather at Fremont Abbey Arts Center in Seattle to share some skills. Each month, three volunteers will lead a short demonstration, workshop, or other lesson type thing. It will be a way for us to come together and spend some time as a community to explore our collective knowledge in a casual learning environment. It will be fun.

This Valentine’s Day, Love Your Community.

First Ever Skillshare!

This week:

Did You Hear What I Said?: A Brief Introduction to Sound Recording

So you wanna be a VJ? Remaking Videos on After Effects for Fun and Profit

Break My Heart: Pinatas for all you Heartbreakers

7pm, February 14th, 2008
$5 suggested donation

Fremont Abbey Arts Center
4272 Fremont Ave N
Seattle, WA 98103

Questions? Comments?
Email: seattleskillshare@gmail.com

My mom called me after last week’s entry about my struggle to keep my wallet open for local and organic products. She thinks buying local and organic is important too, and she brought up a really excellent point. Buying food organic and local is expensive. Buying everything you consume local and organic is even harder and more expensive. Sometimes you can’t do it all the time. But making that commitment, and being conscious really changes the way you think about the things you buy. How, you might ask?

You have to think about what you actually need.

It’s true. Flashback with me, if you will, to last week as I gleefully bounded through the Danger Veggie Dollar Store, tossing bag after petroleum-based plastic bag full of veggies into the cart, my house soon to become a cornucopia of delights where my friends would happily feast themselves into a contented slumber.

Now, flash forward with me, squinting at price tags and carefully picking the tiniest yellow pepper I can find, and fastidiously calculating the number of tomatoes I’ll use in a week—will we have salad three nights or four?

Since deciding to really try to buy local and organic, I’ve definitely noticed a change in my mentality when I go to the store. First of all, I go more frequently. I buy things for dinner that night, or at the most for the next day too. I only get what I know I need and will actually use. That’s not to say that I didn’t buy what I needed before, but buying organic has made me reevaluate the meaning of “what I need”. And I’ve discovered that maybe I don’t need as much as I thought I did, or even as much as I think I do now.

I remember going through my parents’ closet as a kid and a teenager, trying on everything I could find in there that I thought was interesting. Most of the time, it was stuff my mom wore when she was younger. There was tons of awesome stuff from all points of her life. Remember when people used to be defined by their clothes? When they had one favorite jacket they wore for years? Now, when I find something in my closet older than two years, it means I bought it used or got it from my mom.

In America, everything is disposable. Clothes, furniture, handkerchiefs, and even buildings aren’t made to last. When things are disposable, everything can always be shiny, new, and immediately improved upon. You can buy things for now and replace them with better things later. Not only does it deprive our life from some great visible personal history, but it changes the way we care for things. Plus, it drastically increases the amount of waste we are comfortable producing on a daily, monthly, yearly basis. Even worse, it changes our thinking from more long term to the short term. It is this very short term thinking that has really led us adrift without a paddle. Actually, it’s more like all of us are adrift without a paddle and without food after spending a few decades eating bon bons on a cruise ship with 24 hour all you can eat buffets. And bingo.

What I’m getting at is this: we produce a lot of crap. To produce crap we use oil. If we used less crap, and used longer lasting crap, we’d also use less oil. Which is good. And necessary. And which we will have to do pretty soon anyway, for reals, and without much choice in the matter, so why not quit while we’re ahead?

In any case, I’m going to see how long I can go without buying anything new besides food, bath products, and kitchen things. Today is day one. Anyone with me?

P.S. Watch this movie.

P.P.S. Think Long Term.

(Ari, Seattle, WA) First, welcome to my new blog, "Green Revelation". This is my first entry to I hope you enjoy. Now, on to business...

I have a confession to make: I am a terrible person. Now, I don’t produce child porn, I’m not in charge of a human trafficking ring or anything--I don’t even honk my horn when I’m driving (which I don’t do very often). See, these things are all obvious, big terrible things in which to partake. My crimes are much more slippery. I commit them in thousands of tiny decisions each week—decisions I make because I’m tired, or broke, or late and unorganized. It’s only after a while, when I’ve realized how far I’ve slipped from my original intentions that the guilt of my sins begins to weigh on me. It’s only then when I start feeling like a hypocrite, when the guilt makes me clench my jaw at night and I get defensive over every little thing, that I know I need to make a change.

I am a young, well-educated, recently graduated 22-year-old woman. I was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. My best friend has convinced me that the apocalypse is coming, perhaps related to peak oil, rapidly approaching in 2012. Last year I wrote a paper on the true state of organics, where I investigated how good organic farming really is for the environment. For the first time in my life I am living on my own and I have total control over what I do with my money and myself, but I am not upholding my beliefs. It is time for me to try harder.

Last night my roommate and I got in a fight over some vegetables. On the way home, we happened by this fruit and vegetable stand with awesome looking stuff at dirt-cheap prices. We stocked up, and I was thrilled at the giant load and the tiny bill. Later, he lamented over all the pesticides we’d be eating, all the guilt he felt for not buying local and organic stuff. It’s not fair trade. It’s genetically modified. It’s covered in pesticides. It’s from so far away. Think of all the oil! And the workers! And your body!

I got mad. We can’t afford all organic food! It’s so privileged to be able to! I’m not a yuppie! Fine, let’s just throw it all away, would you like that!!??

It’s a tough thing, to be criticized for the way you live. It’s tough, after making all these rationalizations as to why, at this particular store, at this particular time, it’s okay to buy conventional. It’s especially hard to see the all the milks, side by side, ranging from $2.99 to $5.99 and picking the more expensive one. But the thing is, regardless of all the ways in which I think it might be better for me, when I make the decision to buy conventional, I am not alone. If I can’t make the change, as a young, educated person who believes all the hoopla and searches “apocalypse” and “2012 peak oil” just to freak herself out on a regular basis, what does that mean for the rest of the population? If it’s so easy for me to make it okay not to buy local organics and other green products, many other people must be making the same decisions.

For me, it all comes down to this: If you type “peak oil” into wikipedia, it will tell you that depending on how quickly supplies become scarce, and depending on how much we have prepared alternative energy sources for the occasion (which isn’t much), the chain reaction might cause a global depression that may lead to the collapse of global industrial civilization as we know it. Now, regardless of whether all of this actually happens, things have got to change. It might already be too late! In any case, I want to start trying to live differently now. I want to save energy, reduce my impact on the planet, and stop benefiting from the exploitation of workers worldwide. And if that means buying milk for $5 instead of $3, well, that doesn’t seem too bad anymore, does it?