The Lunar Society, Revisited

In the 18th Century, at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution--and hence at the dawn of modernity--a group of brilliant, accomplished, and forward-thinking men started meeting monthly, on the full moon, to discuss ideas and innovations that would dramatically transform society, including many of these in which they themselves were at the forefront. They called themselves the Lunar Society,These included (1) Matthew Boulton, a prominent industrialist who first introduced workers' insurance schemes and sick pay; (2) his business partner James Watt, the visionary industrialist who transformed the steam engine (originally invented by Thomas Newcomen to pump water from coal mines) into a serviceable mechanism for all other manufacturing; (3) Erasmus Darwin, poet, inventor, and botanist (and grandfather of Charles Darwin); (4) Josiah Wedgwood, the father of English pottery, whose company mass produced ceramic ware, making it affordable, for the first time, to the masses; (5) Joseph Priestley, the chemist and Unitarian preacher who isolated oxygen and discovered Carbon Dioxide. Overseas correspondents to this elite group included Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin. For further info, here is a link:

https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/The-Lunar-Society/

A pretty amazing group, to say the least! 

These guys were living at the dawn of the industrial era, and sharing their thoughts about the implications of these profound socioeconomic and technological changes in which they were all eminent participants. 

And now, whether we like it or not, we are drawing toward the end of that same industrial era, due to the fundamental contradiction between (1) an economy based on the infinite growth of fossil fuel-driven production, consumption, and population, and (2) a finite biological support system (the Earth). 

Here in the suburbs, most of us, for obvious reasons, are in total denial about the imminent collapse of our comfortably affluent way of life, since it is all we have ever known. And for those of us who are more keenly aware of what's coming, our tendency is to oscillate between denial (business as usual) and sheer panic and despair about the future.

There is a third option, however, far more adaptive than either denial or panic. And that is intelligent planning--which is just what the Lunar Society was doing-- as a new, vastly different way of life was rapidly upending the stable, predictable society they had always known. 

The difference, of course, was obvious: while they were looking forward to a future of hitherto unimaginable economic growth, technological innovation and general affluence, we today face the far more daunting challenge of downsizing and relocalizing, if we are to avoid a hellish descent into chaos as our global market economy collapses all around us.

This is, of course, the theme of David Holmgren's new book, Retrofitting Suburbia, which I am proposing as the first reading of my monthly book club for my Garden Guild Network.  But whereas the original Lunar Society met at the Full Moon, we will meet at the New Moon, when all is in darkness. Because at present, none of us can possibly know what a post-industrial future on a superheated, ecologically degraded planet will look like--or whether there will be a future at all. In the darkness, all we can do is hope for the best, but plan for the worst--by growing gardens, growing community, and growing awareness.

Glasgow Post-Mortem

 “Don’t let it bring you down; it’s only castles burning/Just find someone who’s turning/And you will come around…” –Neil Young

To nobody’s surprise, the COP 26 Climate Conference in Glasgow, just ended, was largely an exercise in futility. After intensive negotiations and trade-offs, world leaders made the usual watered-down pledges to reduce carbon emissions and phase out deforestation, but these unenforceable pledges fall far short of what is necessary to avert global climate catastrophe by mid-century, or to give our children and grandchildren a future worth inheriting, rather than a hellish future we would not wish for our worst enemies. If the whole charade makes you feel despondent, you are not alone. At such times, I often recall the above refrain from Neil Young’s song, “Don’t Let it Bring You Down” from his 1970 album, aptly titled “After the Gold Rush,” which came out when I was in college. For that is exactly where we are these days—after the gold rush. This global “gold rush” was triggered by the discovery and exploitation of fossil fuels, starting in the late 18th Century, which provided a seemingly unlimited source of cheap net energy that drove the Industrial Revolution, and hence the unprecedented explosive growth of production and consumption of commodities, population, technological innovation, and affluence that has landed us exactly where we are today: a thriving global economy on a dying planet. For that growing production, consumption, and population depended entirely on plundering the planet for nonrenewable resources; transforming diverse, productive ecosystems into vast, sterile monocultures that exhausted the topsoil and drained aquifers while depending on external inputs of (fossil fuel-derived) chemical fertilizers and pesticides; paving over vast tracts of arable land with suburban sprawl to accommodate both exploding populations and rising affluence; and—throughout it all—burning vast and growing amounts of coal, oil, and natural gas, and emptying billions of tons of carbon dioxide and methane into our global atmosphere where they are now rapidly heating up and destabilizing our global climate, with catastrophic consequences for all of us. This is not a problem that can be solved from the top down. For those same global leaders at the Glasgow conference represent nations who are competing with one another to “grow” their economies in order to maintain the support and approval of their populations—and without cheap net energy, no such “growth” is possible. We often hear politicians promising to phase out fossil fuels by creating a “renewable energy infrastructure” based on solar, wind, or hydro power—in order to maintain “growth,” of course, so that everyone can keep getting richer, find jobs, build houses in the suburbs, buy new toys, and so forth. But such promises overlook one embarrassing fact: rebuilding the energy infrastructure, to be economically viable, requires a huge initial investment of cheap net energy to provide the raw materials, manufacturing facilities, transportation, and installations necessary for such a transition. And there is only one feasible source of this net energy: fossil fuels. (You cannot build windmills with wind energy, solar arrays with solar energy, nor dams with hydroelectric energy!) In short, we cannot expect those with an overwhelming vested interest in the industrial status quo of endless growth—political leaders or the energy corporations whose support they need—to agree to scale down the systems from which they derive their money and power, and on which their populations depend for their own livelihoods and aspirations. So if we cannot expect our political and commercial leaders to face reality and adapt accordingly, what can we do? The second line of Neil Young’s prophetic song gives us a clue: “Find someone who’s turning/And you will come around…” This simple advice has far-reaching implications. As Bill Mollison, the founder of the Permaculture movement, once said, "Though the problems of the world are increasingly complex, the solutions remain embarrassingly simple." So what is this simple solution? What does it mean to “turn,” to “come around”? My answer to this is…embarrassingly simple as well: Grow Gardens; Grow Community; Grow Awareness. 1. Growing Gardens: The minute we start to grow our own food—even if it is just sprouts in a jar for salads—we have started to reduce our dependence on the vast fossil-fuel and money-based industrial and commercial infrastructure that is destroying the planet, the system for which I have coined the shorthand “Glomart” (for “Global Market Economy”). And as we gradually expand our backyard gardens, we learn more and more about the techniques of self-reliance and ecological stewardship. We save money (and energy) by recycling our food wastes into nutrient-rich compost, and we learn by doing as we rebuild our topsoil, so that rather than sending our “yard wastes” to the city dump, we can recycle them in place and return them to the soil as mulch. Small electric chipper-mulchers can help with this as well—or else, if we have the youth and the energy, we can simply chop and drop our “yard wastes” in the fall and return them directly to the garden. All such tasks and skills are easier if we use our garden time to strike up conversations with our neighbors, who may know things we don’t, and who may have tools we can borrow, rather than buy. And all of these reduce our dependence on Glomart, as we master and diversify the skills we need to grow, harvest, diversify, and preserve our own delicious, home-grown, organic fruits and vegetables. And through these chats with our neighbors and with passersby, we have taken the first step to… 2. Growing Community: Our industrial-commercial infrastructure—Glomart—has enabled us to lead far more isolated lives than ever before. Since we rely on that infrastructure—the electrical grid for communication and our gas-guzzling cars for transportation—to connect with friends near and far, most of us have not even bothered to get to know our neighbors. Yet this isolation has made us extremely vulnerable to power-outages and supply cut-offs due to (increasingly frequent) natural disasters, such as floods, droughts, wildfires, and ice storms—or larger socioeconomic crises such as supply-chain disruptions, economic downturns, or runaway inflation. All of these stresses can be alleviated by getting to know, and work with, our neighbors, as well as reconnecting with our faith communities and civic or philanthropic organizations. In all of these ways, we strengthen our collective resiliency in the face of our changing climate and other socioeconomic, political, and environmental stresses. And hence, through growing gardens and community alike, we are collectively 3. Growing Awareness: This process, likewise, starts in our gardens: becoming more keenly aware of seasonal weather patterns as they change from year to year. But also, we grow awareness by growing community—by working with our neighbors and others to address the challenges our community faces from the increasing fragility of larger systems, such as our civil order, our democratic institutions, our economy, and—of course—our planet. And conversely, our growing awareness helps us become better citizens and better gardeners as well! So in short, we can best “find someone who’s turning” by getting to know our neighbors and getting involved in community organizations, and we can best “come around” by becoming more locally self-reliant, by relocalizing our economy, and by learning, teaching, healing, and creating.

The Two Worlds: Glomart and Gaia

Whether we know it or not, we all live in two worlds, simultaneously. By “worlds” I refer to complex adaptive systems, for which you can find a useful definition on Wikipedia:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Complex_adaptive_system

Self-organizing complex adaptive systems can be found in all sizes, from individual cells to organisms to ecosystems to our entire planet. And within human society they are equally common, including entities like cities, nation states, the electric grid, the internet, and even “invisible systems” like cultures, subcultures, financial systems, political systems, and religions.  But the “worlds” I refer to are larger, all-embracing complex adaptive systems comprising all of the above.  They are so large, in fact, that we don’t even have names for them.  The conventional names are “the Earth” and “the World” or “Nature” and “Man” but these are fundamentally misleading, so I have adopted one name, already in currency, and invented the other.

The adopted name is “Gaia,” which is not simply “nature,” but rather, the complex adaptive system consisting of humanity-within-nature. The name “Gaia” therefore overrides the false (and fatal) dichotomy we conventionally posit between “mankind” and “nature.”

My newly coined name is “Glomart,” which refers not to humanity per se, but more specifically, to the Global Market Economy, which originated with the rapid expansion of trade after the Agricultural Revolution, some 10,000 years ago, but which accelerated exponentially after the Industrial Revolution of the late 18^th and early 19^th Century, and now spans the entire planet.

Glomart is the world we have made; Gaia is the world that made us. We depend utterly on both: Glomart for our livelihoods, Gaia for our very lives.

Complex adaptive systems evolve according to a specific set of production rules. And herein lies the root of our current global crisis: the production rules of Glomart are fundamentally incompatible with the production rules of Gaia.  To show how this is true, let’s compare them:

1.      GLOMART:  More is always better.  GAIA: Enough is enough.

 The first production rule is the master rule—the major premise for all the others. Glomart runs entirely on the inherently arithmetical logic of money, which is ultimately nothing but arithmetic. And just as 1 + 1 always equals 2, it follows necessarily that in economic systems governed by the rules of money, more is always better—no exceptions. Glomart, that is, runs on a logic of maximization.

Conversely, Gaia—the biosphere—runs entirely on a logic of optimization: too much or too little of any value is toxic to the system, or to its subsystems. If we eat too much, we die; if we eat too little, we die. The same holds true for all other biological values: body temperature, blood pressure, body mass, food or water consumption…or in the aggregate, population size per carrying capacity, predator/prey ratios, etc. These two foundational production rules—maximizing and optimizing, are diametrically opposed; hence, Glomart is a cancer on Gaia, not as a result of any human choice, but by its very nature as a money game, where more is always better. On a finite planet, such a game of endless growth cannot go on without destroying its biological support system.

 

2.      GLOMART: You are what you own. GAIA: You are what you do. 

Since the Glomart system depends entirely on the endless growth of production and consumption, it has evolved a culture of consumerism, where pervasive advertising continually persuades us that our human worth depends on our possessions. This addictive consumerism is essential to maintaining the endless growth of production and consumption demanded by the intrinsic money-based logic of Glomart. Hence, every government on Earth relentlessly pursues “Growth” as its overarching goal—meaning growth, again, of production and consumption of commodities per capita. Yet this endless production, consumption, and resulting population growth relies on endless extraction of finite resources at one end, and pollution at the other. It also relies on continually converting complex ecosystems into monocultures sustained by external inputs of fossil-fuel based fertilizers and pesticides. The net result has been the ongoing deterioration and destruction of vital ecosystems worldwide: our oceans, forests, rivers and streams, topsoils, biodiversity, and even subterranean (and nonrenewable) aquifers, coupled with pollution of our land, air, and water, and, above all, the disruption of our global climate system by excess CO2 from the fossil fuels upon which Glomart entirely depends.

 In Gaia, conversely—and in the earlier, indigenous human cultures everywhere that were fully aware of, and celebrated, their participation in the Gaian web of life—the core value was “You are what you do.” That is, the value of any individual within an indigenous culture derived not so much from their possessions as from the role they played in serving and supporting their community, their tribe, and the larger biological systems that sustained their tribe. And this was largely true of agricultural society as well—hence the proliferation of surnames based on specific trades (e.g. “smith,” “baker,” “cook,” “miller” “butler” etc.).

Likewise, in the nonhuman parts of Gaia, species are valued by ecologists entirely based on the niche they occupy within their ecosystems—by what they do--whether as predators, grazers, or scavengers—or in the plant, fungal, and microbial realm, as nitrogen-fixing bacteria on legumes, colonizing annuals, herbaceous and woody perennials, and so forth. “Ownership,” in Gaia, means nothing; the hole excavated by a woodpecker for her nest may subsequently—and often simultaneously--serve as the shelter of numerous other species.

 

3.      GLOMART: Nothing has value until it has a price. GAIA: Value derives from relationships.

Throughout our global market economy, nothing has any value until it becomes a commodity; therefore, the ongoing core agenda of Glomart is to transform nature into commodities as quickly as possible: forests into board feet; fisheries into fishmarkets; minerals into manufactured products; land into real estate; and citizens into consumers.  Nothing can become a commodity until we draw a boundary around it and cut it out of its supporting matrix; only then can we put a price on it to sell it on the market.

Conversely, in Gaia—in all ecosystems worldwide—the value of any element (mineral or biological) depends entirely on its network of relations with all the other living beings around it. A tree, cut down as board feet, has only one value—its monetary value as a commodity for sale on the market.  Alive (or dead) in the forest, a tree has multiple values—as habitat for a host of species great and small; as shelter for plants and animals, whether from summer’s heat, autumn winds, or winter’s rain or snow; as topsoil builder, as water retainer in its biomass, and as cloud-forming agent of evapotranspiration, creating and sustaining its own microclimate. And so it is for all other elements of Gaia, our unique and miraculous biological support system.

      GLOMART: The Bottom Line is the bottom line. GAIA: The survival and propagation of Life itself is all that matters.

This is the final, most profound difference between the production rules of Glomart and Gaia. The sole ultimate purpose of every business enterprise on the planet, from the smallest local merchant to the largest multinational corporation, is to maximize return on their investments. The basic (arithmetical) rules of the money game make no other purpose even possible, lest they be outcompeted by a rival enterprise who is able to undercut their price. And there are only two ways of making a profit: socially adaptive ways, and socially maladaptive ways. Yet corporations have no vested interest in distinguishing between them: profit is profit, and all that ever matters is the next quarterly return.

Socially adaptive ways of making a profit are no problem, and should be encouraged. They include, above all, making and selling useful and innovative products,  providing employment for others, and providing investment opportunities for investors. Socially maladaptive ways include, above all, exploitation of labor (the “race to the bottom”), externalization of costs to the public (pollution), as well as deceptive advertising and political corruption (i.e. buying off politicians with campaign contributions to prevent regulation in the public interest). The challenge, therefore, for any government is to find ways of encouraging socially adaptive investments in the private sector, and discouraging or prohibiting socially maladaptive approaches to profit maximization.

For Gaia (and for all pre-industrial human cultures that understood themselves as a part of Gaia), the only “bottom line”—the only ultimate purpose—of their behavior, individually or collectively, was (and is) to propagate and perpetuate their own kind, and the ecosystems that support them, from one generation to the next. This is the value that, most fatally, has been lost by Glomart’s relentless colonization of Gaia: the utter abandonment of future generations in pursuit of their own immediate, ever-growing short-term profits.

So what can we do about this fundamental incompatibility between our (maximizing) Glomart socioeconomic order and our (optimizing) Gaian biological support system? Pessimists, of course, will say “Nothing. We are doomed.” I sometimes incline that way, but then I step back and reconsider, simply because I am still alive, and as William Blake once said, “Everything that lives is holy.” So here is one attempt at an answer:

Imagine what could happen if, starting from the ground up, people were inspired to make a conscientious effort to shift from Glomart values to Gaian values? That is, from “More is always better” to “Enough is enough;” from “You are what you own” to “You are what you do;” from “Value = Price” to “Value = Relationship; and from “Maximizing the Bottom Line” to “The survival and propagation of Life itself” as their ultimate goal? And then—starting where they are—they devoted the rest of their lives, young and old, to growing gardens, growing community, and growing awareness? Who knows?  As Shakespeare’s Autolycus in The Winter’s Tale puts it, “There may be matter in it.”  Glomart is dying; long live Gaia!

Things Dying, Things Newborn

 In Act III of Shakespeare's late romance, The Winter's Tale,   Antigonus, an elderly agent of the obsessively jealous King Leontes of Sicilia, arrives on the "seacoast of Bohemia," carrying Leontes' newborn child Perdita,who has been condemned to abandonment on (false) suspicion that she is the bastard child of his wife Hermione with his lifelong friend Polixenes, King of Bohemia. As a dangerous storm gathers overhead, Antigonus mourns his fate, as he abandons the child--until he is frightened away by a bear (hence the famous stage direction, "Exit, Pursued by a Bear"), while the highly vulnerable child is left alone onstage, amidst the gathering storm...

Then, in a comic twist, an old shepherd enters, discovers the child, and speculates darkly about her origins, until his clownish son appears, and breathlessly reports and conflates two catastrophes he has just witnessed: a shipwreck offshore, and a bear tearing into the flesh of the doomed "gentleman" Antigonus. (The ship, of course, was the one that carried Antigonus to shore with the child.) When the clown finishes his report, the old shepherd answers as follows: 

"Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things dying, I with things newborn."

Somehow, this iconic line has lodged in my head of late, for obvious reasons: the "things dying" are everywhere to be seen these days: our coral reefs, our forests, our polar ice caps and glaciers, our fisheries, our aquifers, our endangered species, even our insects...but also, it seems, our democracy itself and the social consensus necessary to preserve it, amidst the toxic divisiveness of our politics; science and truth itself, amid a welter of lies propagated on social media; our collective decency and compassion in the face of waves of refugees fleeing north from war-torn and drought-ravaged lands--and so on ad nauseam. 

So where, amidst all this dying, is the "thing newborn" to be found, who will redeem our broken world?

To begin, let me steal one more line from The Winter's Tale: 

Yet nature is made better by no mean

But nature makes that mean: so, over that art

Which you say adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes. 

Can art (i.e. human artifice) so "mend" nature? Or only change it--for the worse? 

In contemporary usage, "nature" is generally set in opposition to "humanity." For economists, engineers, and industrialists, "nature" is nothing but a "resource" with no value whatsoever until it is transformed into commodities for sale or "development;" for environmentalists, poets, and vacationers, "nature" is a refuge--somewhere "out there" (or on TV),  well away from the crowded, polluted world they inhabit most of the time. 

For Shakespeare and his contemporaries, however, "nature" had a far more spacious and inclusive meaning than it does for us today. In their understanding, "nature" denoted what the Greeks earlier called "physis"--the physical world, inclusive of the sun, moon, and stars, but also of life, humanity, and our innate dispositions. This was also the common understanding of indigenous, pre-agricultural peoples worldwide, who did not even have a word in their vocabulary for "nature" exclusive of humanity. 

And this, I would suggest, might be the "thing newborn" amidst the "things dying" all around us, in both our modern industrial civilization and our ailing biosphere: the dawning rediscovery that humanity is a part of, not apart from, "nature," and that "nature" is a complex adaptive system of which we are a part, not a "resource" for us to exploit at will. 

This awareness first arose intuitively among the counterculture in the Sixties and Seventies, and was rendered explicit by Stewart Brand in the Whole Earth Catalog, but it is now seeping into the cultural mainstream, especially the younger generation. On one hand, it is the awareness that what we have done to the Earth, we are doing to ourselves--but on the other, it is the awareness that, as Brand put it, "we are as gods, and may as well get good at it"; that nature itself makes the means by which nature can be mended.

This dawning awareness of our oneness with nature, as a cultural phenomenon, does not yet have a generally accepted name,  so I, along with many others, propose that we call it "Gaia," and that those, like myself, who wholeheartely embrace this new understanding, call ourselves "Gaians."

Names are powerful. Once a cultural phenomenon has a name, it can catch on and spread quickly, if the time is ripe for it. "Gaia"--the ancient Greek name for the Earth as primordial mother-goddess, has been recycled, by James Lovelock and now by many others, as a kind of shorthand for the systemic view of the Earth as an integrated holobiont, in which the processes of life itself--photosynthesis, microbial interactions in topsoil, the water, carbon, and nitrogen cycles, etc.--create and sustain the conditions that in turn propagate, diversify, and sustain life. It is this complex adaptive system, above all, that has been badly disrupted by the excessive dumping of CO2 back into the atmosphere from the worldwide burning of fossil fuels.

But Gaian theory, so conceived, can be understood only by scientists. And due to their habitual aversion to mythic thinking, most scientists have renamed it "Earth Systems Science"--which is exactly the same thing, stripped of its mythic resonance. Meanwhile, a few avant-garde intellectuals, like Fritjof Capra, William Irwin Thompson, and Ken Wilber, have seized upon "Gaia" as a luminous metaphor, while environmental activists have embraced "Gaia" as an icon of their mass movements against climate disruption and environmental degradation. 

At the same time, the resurfacing of the mythic name "Gaia" has been eagerly embraced by the new-age, neopagan, ecofeminist contingent, with little to no understanding of the rigorous science behind it, while born-again Christians excoriate "Gaia" with fear and loathing, and entrepreneurs have trivialized "Gaia" for their own purposes, to sell video games or body lotions. 

Thus many meanings of Gaia have arisen--whether as myth, model, metaphor, or movement. But still, the concept thrives mostly on the margins of society; most in the cultural mainstream either don't know the Gaia concept at all, or have already formed simplistic, stereotypic ideas about it, whether as dangerous resurfacing of paganism or a frivolous example of magical thinking.   What is generally lacking is a Gaian praxis that, once conjoined with Gaian theory, could give the Gaia movement the traction it needs to become a culturally regenerative force in our dying and despairing world. 

Fortunately, such a Gaian praxis already exists, and is already catching on, worldwide, albeit mostly under the radar of mass media: Permaculture. At the start of his magnum opus, Permaculture: A Designer's Manual, its founder, Bill Mollison, explicitly cites Lovelock's Gaia Theory as his inspiration for his Permaculture design system: 

"Lovelock (1979) has perhaps best expressed a philosophy, or insight, which links science and tribal beliefs: he sees the earth, and the universe, as a thought process, or as a self-regulating, self-constructed and reactive system, creating and preserving the conditions that make life possible, and actively adjusting to regulate disturbances. Humanity, however, in its present mindlessness, may be the one disturbance the earth cannot tolerate." (p.2)

And like the academic renaming of Gaia Theory as "Earth Systems Scence" to keep the theory intact while stripping it of its "new age" mythic overtones, Mollison's "Permaculture" concept has been stripped of its countercultural overtones, in recent years, by renaming it "regenerative agriculture."  But both "Earth Systems Science" and "regenerative agriculture" signify the attempted absorption, into mainstream discourse, of the transformational insights of Gaia Theory and Permaculture.  And that could be good news--especially for us Gaians.

So what is a Gaian? I have at few definitions to offer--I'm sure there are others. The first is the broadest:

(1) A Gaian is a resident of Gaia, the (renamed) Third Planet out from the Sun--one who inhabits, and participates in, a living planet powered by the sun, where the processes of life use the influx of solar energy to turn minerals into topsoil, CO2 into free oxygen and stored carbon, and salt water into filtered, fresh water. By this definition, we are all Gaians already; nobody has to "become" a Gaian.

(2) A conscious Gaian is one who is aware of, and acts upon his or her awareness of, his or her interconnectedness with all of life. Unfortunately, conscious Gaians are as of yet, a small subset of all Gaians, but our mission, above all, is to awaken all our fellow Gaians to consciousness of their true nature and responsibilities as Gaians.

(3) A practicing Gaian is one who has translated, or is translating, his or her Gaian consiousness into a life purpose (such as Permaculture design) that enable them to devote their time and energy to learning Gaia, teaching Gaia, healing Gaia, and creating Gaia.

How might this healing occur, on our dying planet? Imagine...

--people forming Garden Guilds, or Gaian Guilds, within their local communities to grow gardens, grow community, and grow awareness;

--schools and colleges developing Gaian curricula, based on a theoretical grounding in Gaia theory and a practical grounding in Permaculture design, from Kindergarten to Graduate School;

--Gaian groups starting within religious organizations (since Gaia is not a religion per se--there is no Gaian theology--and Gaian consciousness is entirely compatible with every authentic religious tradition on the planet). I am a Gaian Buddhist myself, but I have known and corresponded with Gaian Christians, Gaian Jews, Gaian Muslims, and Gaian Hindus.

So it is just possible that this "thing newborn," Gaian consciousness, could, like baby Perdita (whose name means "the one who is lost") could grow up to regenerate, and redeem, the only living planet we will ever know.  So be it.

The Rain in Spain

 In March of 2018, my wife and I were traveling in and around Sevilla, in the south of Spain. During our entire week in this gorgeous, historically rich area of Andalusia, it rained...an incessant downpour, with intermittent thunder and lightning. (So much for "sunny Seville!"). And on the day when we took a bus tour to the magnificent Alhambra palace, our Spanish tour guide looked ruefully up at the stormy sky, and said "We are killing the Earth."

She didn't know how right she was.  Now, only a few years later, her words seem prophetic, as everyone who pays any attention to science and to reality knows. We are, indeed, killing the Earth, for the simple reason that the maximizing, zero-sum logic of our global market economy ("Glomart") is fundamentally incompatible with the optimizing, positive-sum logic of our biological support system (Gaia). S o all the negotiations in Glasgow are just arranging deck chairs on the Titanic. But the ship has already hit the iceberg, and we are slowly sinking.

The "iceberg" in this metaphor is simply our total dependence on fossil fuels. Their discovery and systematic exploitation of fossil fuel energy--coal, then oil, then natural gas--starting back in the late eighteenth century and spreading worldwide ever since--has been like a feeding frenzy, as generally happens when a rich motherlode of easily accessible energy suddenly becomes available for any species. And as Lynn Margulis once pointed out, we are a highly successful species due to our unique gift of linguistic communication, but highly successful species never last long; their very success leads inexorable overshoot and collapse. And so our sudden, seemingly endless supply of cheap, easily transportable energy through fossil fuels has led, equally predictably, to an explosion in population, in per capita resource consumption, and in ecological devastation.

All the techno-optimism we hear about creating a "next industrial revolution" based on a fossil-free renewable energy infrastructure--wind, solar, hydro, geothermal, ethanol, nuclear, or whatever--overlooks one basic fact: available net energy, which is the energy you have left after the energy you invest to get that energy, is the very foundation of any economy, industrial or otherwise. And the net energy available from fossil fuels vastly exceeds the net energy of renewables (which, when you add in the embodied energy needed to build out these facilities, store, or transport that energy, generally dips into the negative numbers). You cannot use wind energy to build windmills, or solar energy to build solar arrays. All these new infrastructures, in short, require a vast initial investment of net energy. And the only readily available source of net energy is...fossil fuels. Yet fossil fuels, as we now know, are killing the Earth, whether through floods, hurricanes, droughts, mass die-offs of whole ecosystems, heat waves, deforestation, or depletion of aquifers (pumped, of course, by yet more fossil fuels).

So our whole global industrial infrastructure--on which our vast and growing global population depends--is collapsing, at first slowly enough to enable the current patterns of denial (for most people, but especially among Republicans) or bargaining (as in Glasgow). But the pace of collapse will accelerate inexorably, turning denial to panic, and bargaining back to denial (and panic) and of course, rage--especially among the young, as they realize that their very future has been stolen from them.  It won't be pretty, especially as our overstressed civic institutions  that maintain social coherence are strained to the point of collapse, followed by chaos and starvation...

So what can we do? Cultivate the art of dying.  I am not being facetious here; there are many spiritual traditions, especially in the Far East, that can help us learn to embrace impermanence, yet still act with wisdom, diligence, equanimity, and compassion to take care of everyone and abandon no one.  These disciplines can--and should--be taught, especially to the young.  So I would like to share a poem by Robinson Jeffers called "The Answer" that I myself have found useful in coming to terms with the impermanence, not only of myself, but also of my community, my civilization, and our magnificent, life-sustaining planet. 

Then what is the answer?- Not to be deluded by dreams.
To know that great civilizations have broken down into violence,
and their tyrants come, many times before.
When open violence appears, to avoid it with honor or choose
the least ugly faction; these evils are essential.
To keep one's own integrity, be merciful and uncorrupted
and not wish for evil; and not be duped
By dreams of universal justice or happiness. These dreams will
not be fulfilled.
To know this, and know that however ugly the parts appear
the whole remains beautiful. A severed hand
Is an ugly thing and man dissevered from the earth and stars
and his history... for contemplation or in fact...
Often appears atrociously ugly. Integrity is wholeness,
the greatest beauty is
Organic wholeness, the wholeness of life and things, the divine beauty
of the universe. Love that, not man
Apart from that, or else you will share man's pitiful confusions,
or drown in despair when his days darken.