The airline industry has no future. The same is true for airfreight. No air carrier has a viable plan to make a profit with oil at current prices—much less in years to come as the petroleum available to world markets dwindles rapidly.

That’s not to say that jetliners will disappear overnight, but rather that the cheap flights we’ve seen in the past will soon be fading memories. In a few years jet service will be available only to the wealthy, or to the government and military.

[Read the rest at Global Public Media]

Last Wednesday John Kaufmann, Jennifer Brost-Sarnecki and I held a session on "Responding to Peak Oil and Energy Uncertainty" at the annual American Planning Association conference in Las Vegas -- the only session this year specifically on peak oil, and likely the first ever at this annual conference. (If you attended the session and want to our presentations or get on the mailing list we discussed, click here.)

This is not something I'm happy about. James Howard Kunstler, Richard Heinberg and other scholar-authors sounded the mainstream wake-up call on peak oil over three years ago with books like The Long Emergency and Powerdown, among others. We planners, of all folks, should not have waited until 2008 to get peak oil on the agenda.

Still, better late than never. And judging from the reception we got at our last-of-the-day session (a near-capacity audience, most of whom stayed 45 minutes after the end for Q & A), APA members are starting to recognize that peak oil is a serious, serious issue for us to deal with.

At last year's conference in Philadelphia conference I was encouraged by the trends I saw toward integrating sustainability thinking into conventional planning practice. Last April, however, oil was trading around $60, not $120, and the 'acceptable' level of atmospheric carbon was a reasonable 450 ppm, not a daunting 350 ppm (daunting because we're already at 385 ppm). Things have changed. So this year I went to Las Vegas with a high sense of urgency, and sought to gauge --if only roughly-- two things:

Disappointing, to be sure. Indeed, the whole conference was somewhat discouraging to me: a massive missed opportunity to address sustainable community planning in this most unsustainable of cities. Not only was there not a single session on what was wrong with Las Vegas (and there is plenty to be learned from, there), the closing speaker, New York Times architecture critic Paul Goldberger, largely focused on how Las Vegas was an extreme extension of American anti-urbanism (per Venturi et al's groundbreaking 1972 book Learning from Las Vegas) that nevertheless has become 'accidentally urban' thanks to the massive pedestrian traffic the Strip generates. Well, the urban designer in me finds that interesting. But we're in a sorry state when thousands of planners come to Las Vegas and the focus is on architectural philosophy -- and not on the fundamental incompatibility of that sprawling city's economic, land use and transportation patterns with the increasingly uncertain flows of natural and human capital it depends on for survival.

In other words: We've got nearly 2 million people living out here in the middle of the desert; they're extremely dependent on distant and declining water sources; their economy absolutely depends on cheap aviation fuel, which will soon be a distant memory; their food, manufactured goods and construction material are all trucked and trained in thousands of miles with cheap diesel fuel, which also isn't getting any cheaper... Maybe this is something planners should be concerned about?

No, at the APA conference, as in planning offices around the country, I'm afraid it's still largely business as usual. I caught the tail end of a session on John Kasarda's 'aerotroplis' concept, which basically promotes public investment in airport-related development clustered around expanded airports. (This is exactly the kind of concept that Hamilton, Ontario abruptly reconsidered after a study pointed out that the air travel and freight sector will have a hard time expanding given a future of depleting oil reserves.) After the session was over, I asked a fellow on his way out if the speakers had discussed energy. He said "No. Absolutely not."

Disappointing, but not surprising.

For folks who attended our session at APA:

I promised the audience at our "Responding to Peak Oil and Energy Uncertainty" session that we'd post our slideshows:

- Daniel Lerch, Post Carbon Institute:
PCC_April2008_presentation.ppt (8MB .pdf)
My slideshow was just the first half of this 45-minute show I used in Ireland and the UK earlier in April.

- John Kaufmann, Oregon Department of Energy:
JKaufmann_POTF-American_Planning_Assoc_May08.pdf (1.6MB .pdf)

- Jennifer Brost-Sarnecki, Southern California Association of Governments:
SCAGAPAEnergypresentation.pdf (12MB .pdf)

I also announced --in response to a suggestion by an audience member-- that I'd set up a mailing list for people to continue the discussion about advancing the peak oil message within the APA. I've done so and have added to it the people who gave me their cards after the presentation. If you'd like to be on this list as well and you're an APA member, please contact me with your email address, name, title, affiliation, and APA member number and we'll add you to the list. Please put the words "SCP list" in the title of the message -- I get a lot of email!

As U.S. gasoline prices crest the astronomical price of four dollars a gallon, many Americans are complaining that prices are too high to bear. They might spare a thought for the Scottish who would be grateful to pay $8.30 a gallon, if only they could get it... Full article

‘Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy night’. It looks like
the severe food problems long predicted by some agriculture, climate
and peak analysts are arriving more or less on cue, with tragic
results. Some of the problems are more obviously connected to the
growing energy crisis, some apparently not. But the underlying drivers
of all the problems are energy and population, and that means there is
something the West can do about it, provided we make the right
connexions between our dinner plates, the gas pump and the plight of
the global poor. More

I'm proud of my city this week: an article in our regional newspaper, The Oregonian, boasts that Portland is the first major U.S. metro area to receive the League of American Bicyclists' Platinum designation as a "Bike-Friendly City." Yes, I know my last blog post also had to do with bikes in Portland, but I firmly believe that bikes are important to any city's energy-transition transportation plan -- as well as having plenty of other benefits. Apparently Portland is doing some things right, having increased ridership 144% since the 2000 census. (Maybe the bike boxes helped?)

The only other Platinum-level city in the U.S. is Davis, California ("Bike City USA"), which attained that ranking in 2005. The relative scale of the cities -- Portland's 568,380 population to Davis's 64,938 -- ensures that "bike friendliness" in the two cities will look different. Based on what I've seen of Davis (on the Internet; I've never been there), the cities are indeed quite different. My favorite documentary of that city's cycling culture so far is Streetfilms' video, "In Davis' Platinum City Even the Munchkins Ride Bikes." And that recalls the comment Program Manager Daniel Lerch made on that last blog post of mine:

"The Dutch have learned that you have to make your bike network safe and easy enough for a child to use; and the Swiss have learned that you have to make your public transit system convenient, clean and timely enough for a bank president to use."

We'll consider the bank presidents another time, but for now: why is it remarkable that kids ("munchkins") ride bikes in Davis? Isn't riding bikes in the summer synonymous with certain linked nostalgic images of childhood and freedom? And aren't we, as a society, concerned about kids' health and levels of activity?

Regardless of all that, when I repeated Daniel's incisive quote to some local cyclist-friends, they were stunned for a moment. We'd been discussing bike boxes, and whether they were really safer, and techniques cyclists use to safely navigate those intersections in the absence of bike boxes. But all of the tip-swapping and defensive cycling of the experienced cyclists can't make the roads safer for littluns. Bright green markings (à la Portland's new bike boxes) might make a marginal difference. Separate bike infrastructure would sure make a huge difference. As they say over at bike culture blog Copenhagenize, "Segregated bike infrastructure is the foundation of any sustainable bike culture."

At this point, I have to give props to my neighborhood bike shop (pictured at top) for their efforts in getting bikes and bike safety classes to kids. Independent programs like this are also, of course, essential parts to creating a culture of cycling and safety. But they can't do it alone. They need the cooperation of those who design the streets and neighborhoods, those who create the infrastructure that gives the culture context. London provides one good example of a way this can be done.

I'm not looking to say that the ultimate and primary goal should be a 100% kid-proofed city. But kid safety is a good barometer of overall safety. If it's hard for confident cyclists to picture a child safely navigating common routes, that could be a problem. If the people who feel safest riding bikes even in Platinum Portland are predominantly young adult males (see this presentation 1 by the City of Portland's excellent Transportation Options program), how welcoming is the bike culture going to be to older people here, let alone elsewhere? If the predominant image of a cyclist is the person with the fancy gear, then how do you attract the lower-income folks (who are statistically less represented among cyclists, despite the high cost of personal car ownership)?

I'm critical, but as I mentioned before, I'm proud as well. Portland and Davis are doing well, and setting examples for other U.S. cities. One of the conclusions of the presentation I linked to above was, The more people ride, the more people ride -- and that gives me hope that Portland's bike friendliness will continue to improve. I'm glad to see that just about all Portlanders writing about the award are stressing the need for further efforts and improvement; a transportation budget split that approximates the mode split is a frequently mentioned option, and admonishments to look to Copenhagen are appropriate but practically cliché.

What other cities are adopting policies that can help the next generation (and their parents, grandparents, teachers and neighbors) feel comfortable and safe, traversing their neighborhoods on two wheels? What does the next level of bike friendliness in the US look like?

Laurel Hoyt is the Program Coordinator for the Post Carbon Cities program.

1 ^ The presentation was given by Linda Ginenthal, Program Manager for Transportation Options, a division of Portland's Department of Transportation "promoting alternatives to traveling alone in a car." The very existence of Transportation Options is a boon to the city, and very duplicatable. The presentation was given as part of PDOT's "Bicycle Brown Bags" in 2007.

Photo credits:
Bike shop on alberta and 15th by Sarah Gilbert
Walk and bike to school by Jonathan Maus
Freedom by Patrick

There is a surreal quality to the experience of seeing the unfolding of unpleasant events that one has predicted. Plenty of times over the past few years I’ve said, "I want to be proven wrong!" Who in their right mind would wish to see economic collapse and famine? But it was obvious that, given the direction our society is headed, these must be the consequences. Now, with oil at $117 a barrel, the US economy teetering, and food riots erupting in Haiti, Egypt, and Asia, one could perhaps gain some satisfaction in saying "I told you so." But what faint compensation that would be. We are all going to have to share the bitter fruits of our society's century-long growth binge, whether we have criticized it or participated wholeheartedly. The only silver lining is the possibility that now, at last, as the trends (Peak Oil, the failure of growth-based economics, the failure of industrial agriculture, climate chaos, and so on) are becoming so starkly clear, policy makers will begin seriously to contemplate a Plan B (or C, as Pat Murphy insists). For those of us who have been lobbying in that latter direction for some while, this is no time to let up, but rather the ideal moment to redouble our efforts.

This year's American Planning Association conference is in Las Vegas next week, and while the theme for 2008 isn't exactly "sustainability", there are a lot of great sessions this time around focusing on green initiatives, climate change, and even peak oil.

I'll be hosting a session on "Responding to Peak Oil and Energy Uncertainty" (S639) on Wednesday starting at 4:00pm. Here's a quick overview:

• Daniel Lerch, Program Manager at Post Carbon Institute and author of Post Carbon Cities: Planning for Energy and Climate Uncertainty introduces the issue of peak oil (the imminent maximum point of global oil production), describes how the problem is really one of uncertainty and explains how local officials and planners can best approach it. Daniel will also cover what some cities in the U.S. and Canada are already doing in response to peak oil. [bio]
• John Kaufmann, Senior Policy Analyst at the Oregon Department of Energy, was the lead staffer for the groundbreaking Portland (Ore.) Peak Oil Task Force. He has given presentations about peak oil and the experience of the Portland task force to state and local governments across the country. John will describe in detail how the Portland Peak Oil Task Force went about its work, what its findings were and what Portland has accomplished since.
  
• Jennifer Sarnecki is a Senior Planner in the Environmental Division of the Southern California Association of Governments. She serves as the lead staff for all of SCAG's energy planning efforts, which includes developing the Regional Comprehensive Plan's Energy Chapter, staffing SCAG's Energy Working Group and positioning SCAG to be successful in its approach to AB 32 (California Global Warming Solutions Act). Jennifer will discuss SCAG's leadership on energy uncertainty, including the challenges of approaching this complex topic from the regional perspective.

We're also happy to announce that Post Carbon Cities: Planning for Energy and Climate Uncertainty will be carried by the APA Bookstore at the conference! Pick up your copy there, or order it directly from us at postcarbonbooks.com.

In a startling and some say brilliant dash of technological ingenuity, major airlines are discussing converting aircraft - which they can no longer afford to fly thanks to peak oil and unfair safety checks - into railway trains. Trains, they note after careful analysis, don't have to worry about taking off and landing, and crucially, can have a buffet car in the middle which passengers walk to on their own legs, which results in labour saving efficiency gains, and helps passengers stay fitter by exercising. Richard Branson applauds the move, and has offered to buy and convert some of the planes that failed carriers like Oasis, Aloha, ATA, Skybus, Champion, Southwest, American and Alitalia won't be needing any more.

British train operators plan to run the sleek and fashionable 'airtrains' on fermented apple juice and cow manure, acknowledging that industrial biofuels have been ill conceived and caused untold environmental harm. American companies are considering following the British example but are having trouble finding enough Chinese steel to make new railroads to replace the ones they ripped up after the Second World War in order to save the public the bother of having a choice of transport options.

And now back to Planet Earth. Anyone who has caught more than two minutes of news in the last ten days one might think that it is obvious that airlines are not having a very good time - half a dozen carriers have ceased existence in that time, and more than a thousand planes have been grounded amid safety fears. It is possible that the increasing number of safety scandals are a result of falling staffing levels, as well as desperation to avoid any extra costs - such as maintenance. But astonishingly enough, some Canadian analysts sound as if they are about to embark on a new dot com boom:

"Despite the demise of Oasis Hong Kong Airlines Ltd. this week, the air transportation industry is flying into rosier skies, the Conference Board of Canada states in a report released Thursday".

It gushes on to say

"After several years of strong demand growth, record load factors, and a largely modern fleet of aircraft, it should be boom times for the Canadian airline industry," the report said.

All those who wonder what level of carbon dioxide or what price of oil it will take to shake off the euphoria that grips mainstream thinking will have to go on waiting to find out it would seem. We have had $100 oil and we are told that we already over 30 parts per million past a safe-ish level of carbon dioxide.

We apparently do not respond to these relatively slowly changing factors. We took notice of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, at least for a while. And they are still are in Louisiana. Will we wait for the next round of Katrinas or is there some other way we can begin systemic change?

In an area of California just north of San Francisco, where Post Carbon Institute is based, some residents rejected a modest proposal in 2006 to build a short railway to divert some of the traffic on Highway 101. The old railroad that used to run up much of the near coast in picturesque Marin, Sonoma and Mendocino counties lies rusting and useless even as the freeway just yards away is immobilised by traffic and fumes.

In every country we need to be deciding to spend our oil and money in ways that will build a society that can run reasonably well without oil, but there are not enough signs that is happening yet. One thing appears increasingly obvious - at least some citizens, some non-governmental groups, some politicians, and some important sectors of the economy will need to work together to begin to achieve systemic change. That's quite hard to imagine at times, but it is easier to imagine than calling for all sectors to collaborate. And at least that offers us the possibility of finding those that do want to begin the process of rethinking, rebuilding and relocalizing the supply chains that bring so much of what we need or at least think we need.

I'm on the road for another set of presentations for the Post Carbon Cities book -- this time in Ireland courtesy of the Cultivate Centre in Dublin, which has brought me here to keynote their thirteenth annual Convergence Festival. This year's conference theme is "Transition Strategies: Post Carbon Cities, Transition Towns and Eco-Villages," and the focus will be on community and government action to prepare for the coming energy crisis.

The conference doesn't start until Thursday, so in the meantime I'm doing a few other presentations, including for a one-day symposium in Kilkenny for local officials, planners, architects and builders (organized by Future Proof Kilkenny) earlier today; then for Belfast City Council tomorrow; and finally for Dublin City Council on Thursday. On Monday I fly to the UK for a presentation to the Local Government Association, followed by two presentations in Bristol and finally a presentation at the second annual Transition Network conference, in Gloucester. (View my full schedule at postcarboncities.net/pcc-tour.)

Highlights from the Kilkenny symposium today:

• Davie Philips from Cultivate Centre described Cultivate's new educational series, Skilling Up For Powerdown. Among Philips' many fascinating endeavors is The Village, a 132-home ecovillage under construction in rural Cloughjordan. The Village is putting into practice just about every sustainability idea you've heard of, from green building and district energy to permaculture / edible landscaping and a local currency.
• Ireland is really pushing ahead with energy efficiency regulations for buildings. Colm Byrne from the energy services firm Glas descrived how the new Energy Performance of Buildings Directive (being implemented from 2006 to 2009) will, among other things, require energy performance ratings (much like we are used to seeing on things like washing machines and cars) to be displayed on buildings for sale and for rent, as well as in public buildings (see www.sei.ie for more).
• Güssing, Austria (pop. ~4,000) is getting more and more attention as the little town that single-handedly led a local energy revolution. Among their accomplishments: attracting 25 companies to this struggling rural area with a new Energy Technology Center that is pushing local energy sources and renewable energy technology.

I'll be back with an update on my Belfast and Dublin presentations in a few days.

We've had a few minor surprises here at Post Carbon Cities over the last few days.

First: The day after the price of oil burst through its all-time high of $103.761, Common Current's Warren Karlenzig, author of the widely-acclaimed How Green is Your City? sustainability ranking of the 50 largest U.S. cities, released a new report on the preparedness of those 50 cities for $100+ oil and $4 gasoline.

The surprise? Neither super-green Portland (Ore.) nor super-dense New York City topped the list. The big city most prepared for an oil crisis turned out to be very-green and relatively-dense San Francisco, thanks in part to its high levels of public transit use, population density and telecommuting. Portland and New York took sixth and second, respectively, with Chicago, Washington and Seattle (in that order, which is also a bit of a surprise) rounding out the top five.

Second: A few weeks ago we reported that the medium-sized city of Spokane (Wash.) was the first city we'd heard of to create an official task force tackling peak oil and climate change together. At a presentation Laurel and I attended last week by renowned Australian sustainability scholar and author Peter Newman, we learned that Brisbane, Australia convened a joint task force in 2006, and released their final report a year ago yesterday. This means that Brisbane was most likely the first in the world; as far as we know, however, Spokane was still the first in North America.

I've only had time to skim the report, but at first blush it's quite impressive, particularly with its ranking of recommended actions by benefit, cost and level of local government control.

Third: The sharp eyes over at Energy Bulletin noted yesterday that incoming New York governor David Paterson has been outspoken about the challenges posed by peak oil. If Paterson acts on these views once in the Governor's chair, we hope New York's influence helps spur peak oil responses throughout the Northeast -- particularly in the neighboring states of Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont, where we've heard rumblings of possible peak oil action in the state legislatures.

In the coming weeks, look for updates on these and other state actions on our local and state/provincial tracking page at www.postcarboncities.net/peakoilresponses.

---
POSTSCRIPT
We just learned that Corporate Watchdog Radio has posted the radio interview they did with me last week. This was one of the most substantive interviews I've done -- hosts Francesca and Bill asked some great, incisive questions.

---
FOOTNOTE
1. There are various ways of calculating what the record oil price of April 1980 was in inflation-adjusted dollars. I'm using the most commonly-cited figure I've found, as seen here.

"If I only had a time machine..."
Since we started tracking local government responses to peak oil over a year ago, our little map has filled up a bit -- the latest addition being Haines, Alaska.

Now that we're in record-high territory with oil prices, I'd wager that more than a few folks out there are starting to envy these cities -- particularly the really early actor cities like Portland, Oregon and Burnaby, British Columbia, where which were thinking about $100 oil back in 2006 when oil prices were in the $60 to $70 range.
Of course, it's one thing to write a policy assessment or start a task force, but it's another to actually set policy and make those difficult planning and funding choices. Laurel and I went to a presentation last week by Michael Armstrong, Deputy Director of Portland's Office of Sustainable Development, to see just what Portland has managed to accomplish on peak oil since the release of its Peak Oil Task Force final report (the first in the nation) last March.
Portland pushes the envelope...by staying the course
The main accomplishment of the task force so far seems to be that (according to Armstrong) the peak oil view is being incorporated into the City's existing sustainability policies, initiatives, and planning. This is the sort of subtle policy shift that's hard to quantify from outside an agency, but it's quite important...and in some ways more important than a high-profile "green" project that may or may not have real agency buy-in.
Armstrong highlighted this shift by noting that the City now recognizes two key things that need to happen:

• From an institutional perspective, it needs to integrate peak oil and climate change into all city planning and policy;
• From an action perspective, it needs to " dramatically" expand and accelerate related policies and efforts.

A more conspicuous example of this shift can be seen in a $1.4 million allocation in the 2008 budget that explicitly addresses sustainability initiatives, many of which are related to peak oil. Energy / climate / land use blog One Town Square wrote up a nice summary of this allocation from a recent article by Melanie D'Arcy :

The city even budgeted 1.4 million dollars for peak oil related measures, including:

• $150,000 for the City's Office of Transportation to develop strategies to implement the Task Force recommendations - essentially to figure out how to get people out of their cars.
• $91,000 to develop urban agriculture under the Sustainable Food initiative and the Diggable City Project, which opens city lands for community gardens and other agricultural uses.

$1.14 of the $1.4 million is allocated for “sustainable economic development”:

• $350,000 for biofuels development, outreach, education, and grants.
• $100,000 for the SolarNow! program, to work with businesses and homeowners to make it easy to install solar technology.
• $475,000 to provide technical assistance to businesses that want to move towards sustainability.
• $150,000 to support green building efforts
• $15,000 for development of a sustainable economic development plan.
• $50,000 for efforts to acquire renewable energy for City operations.

Though $1.4 million sounds like a lot of money, broken down like this makes the efforts seem pitifully inadequate. But it’s a beginning along a path that few other jurisdictions have even begun to contemplate.

Indeed, much more needs to be done. Armstrong illustrated the challenges ahead with the following slide, which shows just how much farther Portland's Mulnomah County (let alone the rest of the U.S., which is trending in the wrong direction) needs to go in the coming decades to avoid severe climate disruption.

We've talked with Mr. Armstrong about getting a video of his presentation posted here on Post Carbon Cities. Watch for it in the next few weeks.

Awareness of Peak Oil, Climate Change, impending global economic implosion, topsoil depletion, biodiversity collapse, and the thousand other dire threats crashing down upon us at the dawn of the new millennium constitutes an enormous psychological burden, one so onerous that most people (and institutions) respond with a battery of psychological defenses-mostly versions of denial and distraction-in an effort to keep conscious awareness comfortably distanced from stark reality. I discuss this in "the Psychology of Peak Oil and Climate Change," chapter 7 of Peak Everything, where I conclude that the healthiest response to dire knowledge is to do something practical and constructive in response, preferably in collaboration with others, both because the worst can probably still be avoided and because engaged action makes us feel better.

Some people who are aware of global threats respond psychologically with a relentless insistence on maintaining mental focus on possible positive futures, however faint their likelihood of realization. Other knowledgeable people are irritated by this behavior and prefer to plunge themselves into prolonged contemplation of the worst possible outcomes. On various Internet discussion sites this split plays out in endless flame-wars between "doomers" and "anti-doomers" (the latter differ from cornucopians, who deny that there is a problem in the first place).

I generally try to avoid both extreme viewpoints. To me, all that matters in the final analysis is whether awareness leads to effective action that actually reduces the risk of worst-case scenarios materializing.

But the fact is, even those who do engage in practical action get bogged down from time to time in fear, grief, and a sense of helplessness, or they suffer burnout from working too long and hard for too little reward. I've seen enough of this lately to conclude that some sort of informed pep talk may be helpful. (By the way: I experience the same symptoms occasionally; this pep talk is aimed as much at myself as anyone else.)

Burnout and depression are certainly understandable given the scale of the challenges facing us, but these responses cause problems since other people depend on us. Each of us who understands global crises and has some capacity to work on intelligent responses to them represents an enormous cultural investment. I'm thinking not just of the decades' worth of resources consumed in order to keep each of us alive and get us to where we are today, but of the information so carefully sought out and digested, and skills learned. These are not trivial things. I don't say this in order to motivate by guilt; it's simply the reality. If one of us falters, there are not millions and billions to take our place. There may indeed be many millions worldwide who are engaged in some type of vaguely benevolent enterprise, but when it comes to the core threats facing our planet, the ranks are remarkably thin. There are probably more like a few thousand globally who really understand the world resource problematique and are doing something sensible to address it.

A pep talk might take the tack of saying if only we pull together, our problems will vanish and the world will be a marvelous place in short order. But the people to whom I'm directing my remarks won't buy that line of persuasion for a second. We all know that we are in for very difficult times, and that there is no guarantee that, even if we do everything we can, the result won't be human die-off and environmental devastation.

This knowledge evokes overlapping personal and planetary worries. And it's these worries that can undermine even the most psychologically robust of us now and again.

Who among us hasn't fretted over the likely impacts of societal collapse on oneself, family, and friends? Of course, it's perfectly sensible to make some preparations. We should have some food stored, we should be gardening and making efforts to reduce our energy usage and need for transportation. But the obsessive thought that it's not enough can be paralyzing. What if financial collapse proceeds to economic, political, and cultural collapse; what could one possibly do to insulate oneself in that case? Tough question. There are too many unknowns. No matter what we do, there can never be a guarantee that we will be immune to the consequences of Peak Oil and Climate Change.

But this quandary is similar in some ways to the universal problem of personal mortality: we do what we can to maintain health (we eat right, we exercise), knowing nevertheless that eventually we will die. Still, the point of life is not to spend every waking moment trying to cheat death; rather, it is to enjoy each day as much as possible, to grow, to learn, and to give of oneself. Time spent building a family emergency preparedness kit needs to be balanced against time spent helping make one's entire community more resilient, and raising awareness in the world as a whole-and time spent with loved ones, and time spent singing and dancing or whatever it is that makes us happy.

Planetary worries can be even more debilitating. What if there simply is no hope? Once one starts down this mental path, the argumentative ammunition is almost endless. If oil wars don't get us, the multiple reinforcing feedback loops of climate chaos will. Corporate interests will continue to prevent politicians from doing the only things that could possibly prevent planetary meltdown. How could it be otherwise?

Yet again there are so many unknowns. How can we be any more assured of absolute extinction than of the absence of any possibility that, following some early signals of collapse, policy makers-even corporate leaders-will actually wake up and start doing sensible things? If, when an opportunity to influence policy does arise, there are no articulate advocates of a clearly worked-out alternative pathway (because we who are currently working in that direction have all given up and pulled the covers over our heads), then doom will have become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I suspect that the burden of dire knowledge is exacerbated by the psychophysical impact of too much time on the computer and not enough outdoors. It's an occupational hazard: those of us who are aware of the impending collision of resource depletion with population growth and climate instability have acquired whatever understanding we have through countless hours tracking trends, peering at graphs, and noting
news items on glowing screens. Assuming you're reading my words on-line right now, you might want to bookmark this page and jump for a moment to http://homenet.hcii.cs.cmu.edu/, the site of an on ongoing research project of Carnegie Mellon University that has concluded that "Greater use of the Internet is associated with increases in loneliness and symptoms of depression."

So with this pep talk comes some friendly advice (again, I'm also talking to myself here): Take breaks. Eat well, and make sure you get enough exercise and sunlight. Ask yourself: What would I do for joy if I knew I had only a year left? A month? A week? Would I make love, spend time in nature, play music, or...?

Well, do it! But remember the rest of us, and don't drop the ball entirely.

In the end, there is no blame or guilt attached to any of this. And there is a limit to the utility of pep talks. Each of us has different brain chemistry, a different reservoir of past experiences that has shaped our character and repertoire of behavioral responses, all of which results in differing levels of tolerance for bad news and hard effort. We will each do what we can, given our unique makeup. But if words can help, let no courageous worker down tools for lack of simple reassurance.

We're all in this together. Let's rely on one another's reserves of psychological strength when we need to, and provide strength for others when we can.

Duplicate Post, read richard's entry here.

Awareness of Peak Oil, Climate Change, impending global economic implosion, topsoil depletion, biodiversity collapse, and the thousand other dire threats crashing down upon us at the dawn of the new millennium constitutes an enormous psychological burden, one so onerous that most people (and institutions) respond with a battery of psychological defenses-mostly versions of denial and distraction-in an effort to keep conscious awareness comfortably distanced from stark reality. I discuss this in "the Psychology of Peak Oil and Climate Change," chapter 7 of Peak Everything, where I conclude that the healthiest response to dire knowledge is to do something practical and constructive in response, preferably in collaboration with others, both because the worst can probably still be avoided and because engaged action makes us feel better.

Some people who are aware of global threats respond psychologically with a relentless insistence on maintaining mental focus on possible positive futures, however faint their likelihood of realization. Other knowledgeable people are irritated by this behavior and prefer to plunge themselves into prolonged contemplation of the worst possible outcomes. On various Internet discussion sites this split plays out in endless flame-wars between "doomers" and "anti-doomers" (the latter differ from cornucopians, who deny that there is a problem in the first place).

I generally try to avoid both extreme viewpoints. To me, all that matters in the final analysis is whether awareness leads to effective action that actually reduces the risk of worst-case scenarios materializing.

But the fact is, even those who do engage in practical action get bogged down from time to time in fear, grief, and a sense of helplessness, or they suffer burnout from working too long and hard for too little reward. I've seen enough of this lately to conclude that some sort of informed pep talk may be helpful. (By the way: I experience the same symptoms occasionally; this pep talk is aimed as much at myself as anyone else.)

Burnout and depression are certainly understandable given the scale of the challenges facing us, but these responses cause problems since other people depend on us. Each of us who understands global crises and has some capacity to work on intelligent responses to them represents an enormous cultural investment. I'm thinking not just of the decades' worth of resources consumed in order to keep each of us alive and get us to where we are today, but of the information so carefully sought out and digested, and skills learned. These are not trivial things. I don't say this in order to motivate by guilt; it's simply the reality. If one of us falters, there are not millions and billions to take our place. There may indeed be many millions worldwide who are engaged in some type of vaguely benevolent enterprise, but when it comes to the core threats facing our planet, the ranks are remarkably thin. There are probably more like a few thousand globally who really understand the world resource problematique and are doing something sensible to address it.

A pep talk might take the tack of saying if only we pull together, our problems will vanish and the world will be a marvelous place in short order. But the people to whom I'm directing my remarks won't buy that line of persuasion for a second. We all know that we are in for very difficult times, and that there is no guarantee that, even if we do everything we can, the result won't be human die-off and environmental devastation.

This knowledge evokes overlapping personal and planetary worries. And it's these worries that can undermine even the most psychologically robust of us now and again.

Who among us hasn't fretted over the likely impacts of societal collapse on oneself, family, and friends? Of course, it's perfectly sensible to make some preparations. We should have some food stored, we should be gardening and making efforts to reduce our energy usage and need for transportation. But the obsessive thought that it's not enough can be paralyzing. What if financial collapse proceeds to economic, political, and cultural collapse; what could one possibly do to insulate oneself in that case? Tough question. There are too many unknowns. No matter what we do, there can never be a guarantee that we will be immune to the consequences of Peak Oil and Climate Change.

But this quandary is similar in some ways to the universal problem of personal mortality: we do what we can to maintain health (we eat right, we exercise), knowing nevertheless that eventually we will die. Still, the point of life is not to spend every waking moment trying to cheat death; rather, it is to enjoy each day as much as possible, to grow, to learn, and to give of oneself. Time spent building a family emergency preparedness kit needs to be balanced against time spent helping make one's entire community more resilient, and raising awareness in the world as a whole-and time spent with loved ones, and time spent singing and dancing or whatever it is that makes us happy.

Planetary worries can be even more debilitating. What if there simply is no hope? Once one starts down this mental path, the argumentative ammunition is almost endless. If oil wars don't get us, the multiple reinforcing feedback loops of climate chaos will. Corporate interests will continue to prevent politicians from doing the only things that could possibly prevent planetary meltdown. How could it be otherwise?

Yet again there are so many unknowns. How can we be any more assured of absolute extinction than of the absence of any possibility that, following some early signals of collapse, policy makers-even corporate leaders-will actually wake up and start doing sensible things? If, when an opportunity to influence policy does arise, there are no articulate advocates of a clearly worked-out alternative pathway (because we who are currently working in that direction have all given up and pulled the covers over our heads), then doom will have become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I suspect that the burden of dire knowledge is exacerbated by the psychophysical impact of too much time on the computer and not enough outdoors. It's an occupational hazard: those of us who are aware of the impending collision of resource depletion with population growth and climate instability have acquired whatever understanding we have through countless hours tracking trends, peering at graphs, and noting
news items on glowing screens. Assuming you're reading my words on-line right now, you might want to bookmark this page and jump for a moment to http://homenet.hcii.cs.cmu.edu/, the site of an on ongoing research project of Carnegie Mellon University that has concluded that "Greater use of the Internet is associated with increases in loneliness and symptoms of depression."

So with this pep talk comes some friendly advice (again, I'm also talking to myself here): Take breaks. Eat well, and make sure you get enough exercise and sunlight. Ask yourself: What would I do for joy if I knew I had only a year left? A month? A week? Would I make love, spend time in nature, play music, or...?

Well, do it! But remember the rest of us, and don't drop the ball entirely.

In the end, there is no blame or guilt attached to any of this. And there is a limit to the utility of pep talks. Each of us has different brain chemistry, a different reservoir of past experiences that has shaped our character and repertoire of behavioral responses, all of which results in differing levels of tolerance for bad news and hard effort. We will each do what we can, given our unique makeup. But if words can help, let no courageous worker down tools for lack of simple reassurance.

We're all in this together. Let's rely on one another's reserves of psychological strength when we need to, and provide strength for others when we can.