The Crash Course - Chris Martenson [111]
But one thing that we can be sure about is that, by definition, unsustainable practices must someday stop. As we head toward 9.5 billion people, what are the chances that we’ll be able to wrest 40 percent more fish from the oceans? The answer is somewhere between zero and none.
We’re already at limit, and probably beyond, when it comes to the oceans. The story of perpetual economic growth, then, will have to be told without getting more resources from the oceans. They are all tapped out and headed toward collapse, with reductions in certain key areas and species upon which we already depend for much of our protein.
For any who care to look, signs are present that we have either hit or are rapidly approaching hard, physical limits all around us. This isn’t a case of pessimism; this is simply what the data is telling us at this time. Whether or not you choose to heed the warning signs and adjust your life to the implications of this information is for you to decide.
In my own lifetime, a mere blink by historical human standards, I’ve personally witnessed what seems like the complete demise of shore-based fisheries. In many places, there’s nothing left to catch. The water is beautiful on the surface, but underneath it’s a desert. Our oceans are rapidly growing devoid of all the larger forms of life, and now, as we’re finding out, this sad fact extends to even the microscopic ones as well. When I consider just how rapid this depletion of the ocean’s resources has been, I think back to our stadium example—as far as the oceans are concerned, the water is already swirling up the staircase to the bleachers.
PART VI
Convergence
CHAPTER 23
Convergence
Why the Twenty-Teens Will Be Difficult
The next 20 years are going to be completely unlike the last 20 years. Perhaps this sounds trite, in the sense that change accompanies every decade, but I mean to convey something more profound, and possibly more disruptive, than the usual pace of change that we’ve seen in the past. A trait that all humans share is that we extrapolate from the past into the future. Whatever just happened becomes our model for what is most likely to happen next. If the surly store clerk has treated us poorly six times, we will expect the clerk to respond similarly on the seventh. If we slip on ice outside our front door twice, we’re more careful the third time we step out. But in the case of the past 20 years, in which we’ve learned that economies grow, technology improves, and the cure to bursting bubbles is cheap money, it’s most likely that these lessons will prove to be more misleading than helpful.
If I’m right (or more accurately, if the data in the prior chapters has been correctly assembled and interpreted), then we’re on the cusp of major change—the kind where the amount of time and resources we dedicate to mitigating the risks will prove to be the best investment we could ever make. As someone who has done a lot of recreational rock climbing and some over-the-horizon boating, I have a strong appreciation for the difference between “sort-of” prepared and actually prepared. When you’re 600 feet up a rock wall, either you have a critical piece of gear or clothing with you, or you don’t. Trust me, being stuck that high up without rain gear because it was too nice at the bottom to justify hauling it up can result in a very memorable experience. Once you’re out of sight of land, if you get into boating trouble, you either have an emergency locator beacon with you—or you don’t. If you do, the rescue crews can find you instantly; if not, they may never even know you’re in trouble, let alone where to look once you’ve been reported missing.
It is my central belief that our future contains exceptionally high risks that could usher in political and social unrest, a collapsing dollar (and other fiat currencies), hyperinflation (or hyperdeflation), and even full