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Title: The Critique of Civilization
Author: Ran Prieur
Date: 2005
Language: en
Topics: anti-civ, introductory
Source: Retrieved on 29 January 2011 from http://www.ranprieur.com/essays/civFAQ.html

Ran Prieur

The Critique of Civilization

Critique of Civilization FAQ

April 8, 2005 (revised October 2006)

What do you mean, “critique of civilization”?

Mostly I mean putting human civilization in context, seeing it from the

perspective of the world that surrounds it, instead of through the lens

of its own mythology. For example, we’re taught to think of human

prehistory as a temporary, transitional stage destined to “improve” into

a world like our own. In fact, we have lived as forager-hunters for at

least 100 times as long as we’ve been tilling the soil, and it’s our own

age that shows every sign of being temporary, unstable, and short. The

critique of civilization is a reframing, after which “primitive” people

seem like the human norm, and civilization seems like a brief failed

experiment.

Another example: suppose I broke into your house, killed your family,

locked you in a cage, threw out all your stuff, redecorated according to

my tastes, and called it “growth” because I used to have one house and

now have two, or called it “development” because I replaced your stuff

with my own. That’s exactly what civilization does, to nature, to

nonhumans, to nature-based humans, even to humans in other branches of

civilization.

It’s not really that bad, is it?

The deserts of central and southwest Asia and the Mediterranean used to

be forests. Ancient empires cut them down to burn the wood to smelt

metal for weapons, and to build ships, which they used to conquer their

neighbors. This has been the pattern of every “successful” civilization

in history: to transform the life of the Earth into larger human

populations that must conquer and deplete more land to survive,

spreading like a cancer over thousands of miles, destroying every

habitat and culture in their path, until they go totally mad, exhaust

their landbase, and crash.

Can you define “civilization”?

I don’t think it’s necessary or even helpful to make an airtight

definition. I follow William Kötke in using “civilization”

interchangeably with “empire.” I define it loosely as a self-reinforcing

societal pattern of depletion of the land, accumulation of wealth,

conquest, repression, central control, and insulation and disconnection

from life, with all of these habits allied to mental, cultural, and

physical artifacts.

For example, the plow is a physical artifact that enables the cultural

habit of grain farming to take biomass from the soil and convert it into

more humans and into stores of grain, which enable the cultural artifact

of “wealth,” which enables some people to tell others what to do and

build the cultural artifact of “command,” backed up by physical

artifacts like swords and guns and cultural roles like soldiers and

police, who reinforce the whole pattern by conquering and holding more

land for the plow and more people for the roles of farmer and owner and

soldier. Also, farming enables people to lose their awareness of wild

nature and still survive — in fact, it links their survival to viewing

wild nature as an enemy, which feeds back and supports their habit of

exterminating nature.

Or, the car is a physical artifact whose manufacture and use require the

land to be torn up for mining (after being conquered), polluted with

industrial waste products, and covered with pavement, and the car feeds

back into this system by insulating and disconnecting people behind its

metal walls and blurring speeds, so they lose touch with their neighbors

and with the world they’re destroying. Also cars enable us to put more

distance between the places we have to go, forcing us to have cars to

get there, and thus to do thousands of hours of commanded labor to be

permitted to own them.

Sure, everyone knows cars are bad. But what about all the good stuff in

civilization, like our medical advances?

Most of industrial medicine exists to treat diseases and injuries that

are caused by industrial civilization in the first place, like heart

disease and cancer and car crashes, which are rare or nonexistent in

nature. And mostly it fails to treat them, and only succeeds in

prolonging sickness to increase the power of the medical system and

allow it to more completely colonize our lives.

Didn’t primitive people live only 30 years, and have lots of health

problems?

Non-civilized people observed in historical times tend to be healthier

than civilized people, and quite long-lived. As for prehistoric people,

we can only look at their skeletons. Here’s what Jared Diamond wrote in

The Worst Mistake in the History of the Human Race:

At Dickson Mounds, located near the confluence of the Spoon and Illinois

rivers, archaeologists have excavated some 800 skeletons that paint a

picture of the health changes that occurred when a hunter-gatherer

culture gave way to intensive maize farming around AD 1150... Compared

to the hunter-gatherers who preceded them, the farmers had a nearly 50

percent increase in [tooth] enamel defects indicative of malnutrition, a

fourfold increase in iron-deficiency anemia (evidenced by a bone

condition called porotic hyperostosis), a threefold rise in bone lesions

reflecting infectious disease in general, and an increase in

degenerative conditions of the spine, probably reflecting a lot of hard

physical labor.

Still, on the whole, don’t we live better than primitive people? Didn’t

they constantly struggle for existence and fight each other a lot?

It’s true that people in emotionally healthy subcultures in elite

nations have it better in many ways than people in the nastiest tribes.

But some observed nature-based societies look like utopia compared to

civilization — the political structure is egalitarian and non-coercive,

fighting is rarely deadly, the people are strong and happy, and they

spend only a few hours a day in the meaningful activities of survival,

and the rest of their time playing and slacking off.

What about the Aztecs or the Mayans or the Incas, who had strict

hierarchy and human sacrifice and military conquest to support

increasing populations?

I classify them as civilizations because they had repressive centralized

systems linked to “growth” economies. It’s true that there’s not a clear

division between civilized and primitive. I suspect that some North

American tribes were well on their way to complex top-down government

and depletion of the land. But the point is, humans are capable of the

whole range, from killing nature to supporting it, from runaway increase

to balance, from repression to peaceful anarchy. Even if only one tribe

lived at the nice end of all those scales, it would be evidence that

something like that is possible for all of us. In fact many did, and

could again.

What about the really nasty tribes that are clearly primitive?

The orthodox primitivist position is that we have to live with it, that

despite the flaws, forager-hunter tribes are the best humans can do.

Personally I think we can do better. But even if we can’t, if you

consider everyone from best-off to worst-off, primitive life is still

preferable to industrial civilization.

I read that murder rates are higher among primitive people.

Sure, if you only count it as murder when one person hits another person

with an axe! Highly complex societies have the luxury of more powerful

and subtle murders. I consider all cancer deaths to be homicides — or

suicides if the victims are also willing participants in the crimes.

Cancer was rare in pre-industrial times and even rarer in pre-civilized

times. You get it from a combination of emotional distress and exposure

to toxic environmental factors, and the people who make and enable the

decisions to create those factors are the murderers. Heart disease is

suicide-homicide by the corporations that profit from trans fats and

other heart-disease-causing foods, and their stockholders. Lung cancer

is suicide-homicide by tobacco companies that standardize the nicotine

dose and add even more addictive substances to increase their profits.

Every car crash death is a homicide by the various interests that set us

up to have no choice but to drive around in cars all day.

If there are going to be murders, I’d rather have them out in the open

and honest. If you get killed in a tribal war, you’re probably suffering

less at your moment of death than industrialized people suffer every

day, because you can see the story that you’re part of.

Aren’t you romanticizing primitive people? They’re not perfect, you

know.

There’s no such thing as “perfection.” That’s a fantasy of

increase-based society that makes us think the world in front of us is

never good enough, so that we have to keep reaching for more wealth and

control. The nonexistent techno-utopia is “perfect.” I’m just observing

what’s been documented by civilization’s own anthropologists, and

noticing that, while imperfect, it’s preferable to “civilized” life.

But you seem happy to me. You should be thankful you live in America.

That’s like telling a serial killer he should be thankful he gets to

drink the blood of his victims, instead of telling him to quit killing.

People in elite nations are rewarded with cheap pleasures in exchange

for consenting to a system that kills and robs people in poorer nations

and nonhumans everywhere. And they’re still not satisfied. They chase

status and money and distract themselves with hedonism and toys to try

to cover up the emptiness of their existence. The only reason my

existence feels meaningful is I’ve begun to see through the whole sham

and I’m exploring ways to do something about it. I’ll feel thankful I

live in America when the American Empire has broken down into thousands

of autonomous nature-based communities and we can ride horses on the

ruined freeways.

So you want us all to go back to the stone age?

The word “back” is a trick. It implies a magical absolute direction of

change. Suppose you go to your job, and when you get ready to leave,

your boss says, “So you want to go back to your house? Don’t you know

you can never go back? You can only go forward, to working for me even

more, ha ha ha!” Really, all motion is forward, and forward motion can

go in any direction we choose, including to places we’ve been before.

So you want us all to go forward to the stone age?

The term “stone age” is another trick, if it’s interpreted as a

temporary stage in a progression that logically had to lead to the age

we’re in now. There’s no biological reason to suppose this. Sharks have

barely changed in the last 100 million years, and we consider them

successful for finding a place they fit and staying there. Humans fit

with nature for one to two million years, and then less than ten

thousand years ago some of us tried something different that’s obviously

not working. Ten thousand years out of a million is like 36 seconds out

of an hour.

OK, OK. So you want us to go forward to hunting and gathering, using

fire and stone tools and living in grass huts, and just stay there?

That would be a nice way to live, but I don’t think it’s going to

happen, at least not soon. I’m not asking any person raised in

civilization to switch to a forager-hunter lifestyle, and I’m not going

to do it myself. It’s too hard to learn as an adult, and right now

nature is too killed back for it to be easy for anyone. If civilization

crashes, and humans survive, then in a few generations it might be

practical for people to start living that way. But there will be plenty

of other options — at least until the scrap metal is gone. In the near

future, we’re going to have to live in a way that both feeds us in a

dead world, and rebuilds the life of that world. I think the

permaculture movement is on the right track.

So you’re against technology — you’re a technophobe.

I love technology! A fungophobe is someone who fears all mushrooms, who

assumes they’re all deadly poisonous and isn’t interested in learning

about them. A fungophile is someone who is intensely interested in

mushrooms, who reads about them, samples them, and learns which ones are

poisonous, which ones taste good, which ones are medicinal and for what,

which ones are allied to which trees or plants or animals. This is

precisely my attitude toward technology. I am a technophile!

Now, what would you call someone who runs through the woods

indiscriminately eating every mushroom, because they believe “mushrooms

are neutral,” so there are no bad ones and it’s OK to use any of them as

long as it’s for good uses like eating and not bad uses like conking

someone over the head? You would call this person dangerously stupid.

But this is almost the modern attitude toward “technology.” Actually

it’s even worse. Because of the core values of civilization, that

conquest and control and forceful transformation are good, because

civilization “grows” by dominating and exploiting and killing, and by

numbing its members to the perspectives of their victims, it has been

choosing and developing the most poisonous technologies, and ignoring or

excluding tools allied to awareness, aliveness, and equal participation

in power. It’s as if we’re in a world where the very definition of

“mushroom” has been twisted to include little other than death caps and

destroying angels and deadly galerinas, and we wonder why health care is

so expensive.

What are some technologies you like?

One of my favorites is the beaver dam, which could be built by humans

too, but it’s easier to just bring in some beaver “contractors” and let

them go to work. It creates a nice pond, raises ground water, buffers

runoff and prevents droughts and floods downstream, and after many years

of collecting organic material that would otherwise wash away, it

becomes a wetland or meadow that increases the diversity and abundance

of life. And if you say “that’s not a technology,” you confirm my point

that the definition of “technology” has been twisted to include only

poisonous ones, dead machines that enable the concentration of power in

an alienated detached perspective.

Another great technology is cob building, a mixture of sand, clay, and

dry grass that absorbs and radiates heat and can last hundreds of years.

Also, recent innovations in wood burning, like Ianto Evans’s rocket

stove, are almost perfectly clean and efficient while still being allied

to a bottom-up social order. Permaculturists are rediscovering

techniques mastered by rain forest people, arranging fruit and nut

trees, berry bushes, and perennial or self-seeding ground covers so that

they work together harmoniously and produce abundant food with little

maintenance while actually increasing soil fertility.

A good mechanical technology is the bicycle, which is cheap and simple

enough to be compatible with autonomy, and moves more efficiently than

any land animal, though it remains to be seen whether bicycles can be

manufactured by a sustainable and non-coercive society. I don’t see any

problem with telescopes, stone buildings, sailing ships, unpaved roads,

sophisticated ceramics, or hand tools fashioned from scavenged metal.

Of course, almost all “primitive” technologies are great, not for

romantic reasons but for hard practical reasons: They keep us close to

the Earth where we remain aware of the needs and perspectives of other

life. They do not require the importation of energy or resources from

distant places where we’re not intimate with the life and would tolerate

its destruction. And they are allied to non-coercive human societies: If

the tools on which people depend are all within reach of everyone, if

anyone can build a shelter, make a fire, weave a basket, dig up tubers,

kill a deer, tan a hide and make clothing, then a dominating power has

no leverage to make us obey.

But don’t people in undeveloped countries want more development?

Some of them do. It doesn’t mean they’re right. If I take away your food

and give you a bit of heroin, you might want more heroin. People who

have been separated from a nature-based way of living, and are shown no

way out of their meaningless poverty except meaningless affluence,

images of first-worlders enjoying their shiny toys, will tend to believe

those toys will make them happy. They’re wrong. This is proven by the

fact that suicide rates are higher in “developed” countries.

And many of them don’t want our toys — they want equal participation in

power, and land reform, and the overthrow of the colonial government

that extracts wealth from their nation to send it to the imperial

centers. They understand that “development” means loans on terrible

terms that enrich the local elites and force people out of

self-sufficient local economies into corporate enslavement.

Truly “undeveloped” people, who have not been separated from a

nature-based way of living, are never envious of civilization. They

think it’s silly and choose it only under extreme pressure. In fact,

without coercion, people go the other way. Benjamin Franklin wrote:

When an Indian child has been brought up among us, taught our language

and habituated to our customs, yet if he goes to see his relations and

makes one Indian Ramble with them, there is no perswading him ever to

return. And ... when white persons of either sex have been taken

prisoners young by the Indians, and lived awhile among them, tho’

ransomed by their Friends, and treated with all imaginable tenderness to

prevail with them to stay among the English, yet within a Short time

they become disgusted with our manner of Life, and the care and pains

that are necessary to support it, and take the first good Opportunity of

escaping again into the Woods, from whence there is no reclaiming them.

But civilized also means polite, considerate, peaceful, broad-minded,

cultured, learned, and so on. Are you against all that?

That use of the word “civilized” is a trick. To destroy life, to

conquer, to imprison, to torture, are typical behaviors of civilization

and less common in other societies. The Arawaks brought gifts to

Columbus and he hacked up their children to feed to dogs. Which culture

was “civilized”? The behavior that we call “civilized” is common only at

the centers of civilization, among the sheltered elite. And even our

greatest thinkers can barely match the typical forager-hunter, who has

knowledge and understanding of thousands of plant and animal species,

where they grow, how they interrelate, what they’re good for. The native

view of the spirit world behind the physical world, whether or not you

think it’s true, is more deep and complex than the cold doctrines and

abstractions of western religion.

Every primitive human knows how to improvise a shelter and find wild

edibles. Not only do civilized people lack primitive skills, we even

lack civilized skills — most of us can’t even program a VCR or change

the oil in a car. We are the most pathetic and powerless humans who have

ever lived. This is good news! As wonderful as you think your apartment

and your TV shows are, that world is a padded cell compared to the rest

of the universe.

If primitive people are so much better than civilized people, why do

they always lose?

That’s like saying if I can beat you up I must be better than you. A

nation that puts its attention into warfare and conquest will always

defeat a nation that puts its energy into relaxation and play. People

who have lived densely for millennia will have developed epidemic

diseases, and partial immunity to them, while people who have lived in

isolated tribes will have no immunity and will be killed off at contact.

Sure, but if they’re so susceptible to invasion, and epidemics, and

conversion by missionaries, and alcoholism, and TV addiction, then

doesn’t it follow that if we all lived like that again, we would just

slide into civilization the first time someone invented the wrong

technology and started conquering people, just like last time?

That won’t happen right away, because the fuels that fed civilization —

topsoil, forests, easily extracted metal and oil — are mostly gone. But

soil and forests will come back, so in the long term, that’s a strong

argument against simple primitivism. Civilization is an emotional

plague, and those who have been exposed to it are more resistant to it.

Either we can evolve permanent resistance, in which case we will be

different from any previous natural humans, or we can’t, and we’re

doomed to keep cycling through ages of health and destructive sickness

until we go extinct.

Isn’t civilization part of evolution?

Biological evolution moves toward greater complexity, diversity, and

abundance of life. What determines “fitness” to survive is how well a

creature fits with the whole, how well it maintains the ecosystem on

which its survival depends. Civilization moves in the opposite

direction, toward uniformity and deadness, replacing all human cultures

with one, replacing all habitats with monoculture farms and pavement.

The civilized myth of “survival of the fittest” is about exterminating

competitors and depleting the ecosystem to generate large numbers of

identical things. The “progress” of civilization is anti-evolution. The

only thing in the evolutionary process that it resembles is a

catastrophe, something that wipes out all but the most adaptable species

and forces evolution to start over.

But isn’t human civilization at least a continuation of human evolution,

in which we came down from the trees, invented fire and stone tools,

developed larger brains, more sophisticated tools, and so on to where we

are now?

No. This series of human changes switched, at some point, from

co-evolution with other life to anti-evolution against it. The most

common story goes like this: One or two million years ago we became

“human” and made ourselves a niche, where we could have stayed forever,

or continued our evolution on other paths that kept us in balance with

the whole. But with the invention of grain agriculture, some humans made

a terrible wrong turn and dragged the rest of the world with them.

In other stories we made the wrong turn farther back, possibly with

symbolic language, or division of labor, or even with the taming of

fire; and at that point, something like this was bound to happen sooner

or later. In any case, the next question is whether we can evolve out of

this hellhole, into a species that can keep itself in balance.

Are humans inherently bad?

I’d say we’re inherently dangerous. Because so much of our behavior is

determined by culture, we’re much more malleable than any other animal —

we have the power to create very good behavior patterns or very bad

ones.

Couldn’t we build a good civilization, one that had a lot of modern

technologies but was peaceful and environmentally sustainable?

Maybe. But our familiar “technologies” were developed in the context of

conquest and central control and runaway exploitation and the numbness

to make it all tolerable. We have the ones we have because they fed back

into these habits, and they would continue to do so. Even if we had cars

powered by fusion plants, they would still daze us with their speed and

enable us to live far apart, when we need to slow to a walking pace to

know nature, and live close together to know our neighbors. We need

tools allied to sharing, not isolation, and energy sources that do not

require central administration, and energy in small enough quantities

that we have to get our hands dirty and be intimate with what we’re

doing.

Tom Brown once asked Stalking Wolf why the cold didn’t bother him.

Stalking Wolf answered, “Because it’s real.” The same things that make

primitive life uncomfortable make it more alive. In a society that

protects us from that aliveness, and that also denies us the thrill of

escalating “progress,” how will we enjoy life enough to keep that

society going?

Civilization keeps billions of people alive. If you’re against it,

doesn’t that mean you want all those people to die?

It’s civilization that wants all those people to die, by setting them up

so their lives depend on practices that must end in famine and

ecological disaster. I’m just the messenger. I’m not making anyone die

by believing that civilization was a mistake, just as you can’t save

anyone by believing that it can keep going. I’m actually trying to save

lives, by breaking people out of a style of thinking that is tied to a

style of living that is not sustainable, so they can learn ways of

living that will get them through the crash.

You’re against civilization, but what are you for? You’ll never get

anywhere without a positive vision of the future.

What makes you think I want to get anywhere? Only people under the spell

of civilization need an exciting vision of a nonexistent future to

motivate them. Cultures that live in balance feel no need for a “vision

of the future” because they have a present that is acceptable. Instead,

they focus on their ancestors. They would say, “You’ll make terrible

mistakes without being grounded in the ways of your ancestors,” and

they’d be right.

Our visions of the future have all turned out to be wrong. From

techno-utopia to Hitler’s Thousand Year Reich to the Age of Aquarius to

Bush’s crusade to bring “freedom” to Asia, they’re a mixture of wishful

thinking and lies that serve to motivate people to march toward

something that turns out to be quite different.

Visions of the future are lies, and a culture that needs to be lied to

cannot stand. If people will choose a comforting fantasy over a call for

responsibility, as Americans did when they chose Reagan over Carter,

then those people are already doomed.

But I’m a creature of civilization. I’ve lost touch with all my

indigenous ancestors, and I do have visions of the future, plenty of

them, which if I am “successful” will inspire my followers to make total

asses of themselves while the world goes a direction no one expected. I

envision stone age, medieval, modern, and “magical” technologies all

dancing together in a world of wilderness and ruins.

Could civilization just be an awkward stage in human evolution, a

necessary bridge to a higher level of humanity?

It’s possible that we will emerge from civilization in a new form that

is better adapted to work with the whole. But there is no reason to

believe the whole thing was necessary, except that it’s easier to take

than the idea that it was not necessary.

And there would be no reason to call the new form “higher,” to apply a

vertical metaphor to harmony, other than attachment to the myth of

straight-line, open-ended, absolute-value “progress,” which is purely an

artifact of civilization. We create fantasy sub-worlds in which it’s

true: going from fifth grade to sixth grade, or raising the level of a

game character, or getting promoted to vice president or full professor.

But nothing in reality moves like this.

In reality, things move in circles — the seasons, the sun, the planets,

the migrations of birds — or like a coyote they wander from one place to

the next, playfully, without any number line attached. If we’re like the

former, we’re going to keep cycling through complexity and collapse,

like a forest that grows for a while and then burns. If we’re like the

latter, then this is just an ugly place we wandered into, and soon we’ll

wander out of it to a new place we like better, and after that...

The Critique of Civilization Changes Everything

April 15, 2005

Now everything’s a little upside down.

As a matter of fact the wheels have stopped.

What’s good is bad, what’s bad is good.

You’ll find out when you reach the top,

You’re on the bottom.

— Bob Dylan, “Idiot Wind”

Conservatism. Conservatives believe in a lost “golden age” that they

want to return to. But if you actually look at the ages they name, and

not their romantic myths of those ages, you see that they were just as

bad as this age by the conservatives’ own standards: In 1950, or 1800,

or even ancient Greece, they had taxes, irreverent young people, and

loads of extramarital sex. That’s a liberal critique of conservatism,

but the critique of civilization goes farther, and explains more:

Most of the “traditions” glorified by conservatives are neither old,

wise, stable, nor tested by time. They are short-lived, new, and

radical. The nuclear family was invented to break down the extended

family, which itself is a recent bastardization of the tribe. For that

matter, so is the “nation.” The modern concept of “ownership” is more

aggressive than ancient and prehistoric concepts, and it mostly serves

to concentrate power in banks and corporations, amoral institutions with

radical effects on society. “Business” is a secular command structure

with a psychopathic agenda that tramples the families, farms, and towns

that conservatives idealize. Even tilling the soil, even monotheism, are

relatively new “traditions,” allied to an odd social experiment that is

failing badly.

The real golden age that conservatives are yearning for emotionally, but

not permitted to grasp intellectually, is our multi-million year

heritage of living as part of nature.

Progressive Humanism. I use “progressive” in the sense of believing in

“progress,” change that goes in a straight line and makes the world

better and better with no theoretical limit. Because humans are the only

creatures on Earth that make any pretense of changing this way,

progressivism implies humanism, the attitude that humans are the

subjects of this world and all other creatures are objects. Progressive

humanism is the religion of civilization, so dominant that even

conservatives are progressive humanists, just a little slow: in every

age, they think changes were good until recently, but that these new

changes are terrible.

Viewed from the larger context of all life on Earth, all the major

changes have been terrible since the invention of grain agriculture,

possibly farther back. The only way to change in a one-direction

straight line is to lose your balance and fall.

Liberalism. I don’t mean “liberal” in the classic sense, or in the sense

of favoring change, but in the contemporary sense, where a liberal is

someone who thinks people are basically good and we should all be able

to live together in harmony. Why do they think this? For the same reason

conservatives think there was a golden age in the past — because it’s

true. We all have a biological memory of living in harmony for more than

a million years as humans and countless millions before that as other

animals. But just as conservatives are blocked from this knowledge by

romanticized images of the recent past, which stop them from looking

farther back, liberals are blocked by negative images of the recent

past: English factories of the 1800’s, or the medieval church. (Never

mind that the medieval church had a same-sex marriage ceremony, or that

medieval peasants worked less than modern people, or that medieval

serfdom was less financially oppressive than modern rent and mortgage.)

Liberals look a short ways back, see stuff they don’t like, and assume

it just gets worse the farther you go.

Also, many aspects of tribal and natural life are offensive to civilized

liberal values. Of tribes observed in historical times, some are

peaceful, but others are violent, and there’s evidence that the

paleolithic was worse. Even in the nice tribes there is very little

religious or ethnic diversity, and someone with a bumper sticker that

says “Love animals, don’t eat them” will find it hard to understand the

morality of wild nature, where you love other species and eat them.

The critique of civilization explains why liberals always lose to

fascists: because both exist in the context of civilization, which is

fascist through and through. You can’t make a round building on a square

foundation. In a system built and maintained by the systematic murder

and exploitation of other species, there is no stopping the systematic

murder and exploitation of other humans. In a system ruled by a central

authority that uses a monopoly on physical force to compel behavior, it

is pathetic and half-assed to try to use this authority to force people

to be nice and tolerant and take care of each other. If we’re all going

to get along, we have to do so from the bottom up.

Libertarianism. Libertarians understand the above argument, but they are

willfully blind to systems of central control that are only slightly

less obvious than government. Like conservatives, they take for granted

very recent and radical techniques of domination, unaware of them the

same way a fish is unaware of water.

The core libertarian value is not liberty but private “property” — just

ask them if you have the liberty to set up a camp on their lawn. But the

only known societies where nobody is forced to do anything they don’t

want to, are tribes where the concept of “property” extends only to

small hand-made items. The “owning” of land is only a few hundred years

old. Even in feudal times, when the lord could extort wealth from a

certain territory, most of the actual land was considered wide open for

anyone to cross, occupy, or use (though of course this “use” meant

draining the life of the land to benefit the elite). Then with the

enclosure movement, the more civilized elite declared every inch of land

“owned” by someone, driving self-sufficient farmers from land their

ancestors had occupied for centuries, and forcing them into the cities

to labor in the dawning industrial age.

Libertarians should be smart enough to see that their idea of the

political effect of land ownership is a fantasy. Both in practice and in

theory, it does not lead to a utopia of small landholders freely farming

and trading. Because land ownership channels wealth to those who already

have wealth, it is politically destabilizing. Whoever owns land will use

it to get more money, more land, and more political power, leading as

sure as water running downhill to a system where one giant

multi-tentacled concentration of wealth/power commands almost all the

land and all the people.

The only way to maintain liberty is to maintain equality of

participation in power, which requires maintaining rough equality of

wealth, and the only way to do that, without having a government using a

monopoly on force to confiscate wealth, is to have economic equality

built into the very foundation of the system. There are only two ways

that’s ever been done: to have a very close-knit community where social

pressure alone is strong enough to prevent anyone from accumulating

wealth, or to have a style of technology where your personal wealth is

limited to useful items you can carry through the wilderness.

Anarchism. The anarchist ideal of a sustainable non-coercive society has

been achieved by many nature-based peoples. Still, some anarchists

embrace the critique of civilization (green anarchists or

anarcho-primitivists) and some reject it (anarcho-syndicalists,

anarcho-communists, and extropians). The difference is pretty much in

their view of technological “progress.” This is a tough nut to crack.

It’s easier to convert your mom to green anarchism than to convert a red

anarchist. It requires a difficult reframing of our whole world-view,

which I attempt below in the techno-utopia section.

The Bush Cult. The movement fronted by G.W. Bush is not conservative,

though it uses a lot of gullible conservatives as foot soldiers. It is a

coalition of at least two movements. One is extreme progressive

humanism, an attempt to use overwhelming force to establish a global

high-tech security state where corporate pseudo-capitalism can turn the

whole planet into the Mall of America. This kind of insane vision should

be expected in the detachment from reality that exists in the terminal

stages of civilization. The other movement is apocalyptic nihilism.

Apocalyptic Nihilism. Nihilism is the urge to destroy everything because

life sucks so bad. In civilization the human condition is so inadequate

that nihilism makes its way into religion in the form of apocalyptic

prophecies, comforting assurances that this nightmare can’t go on

forever, that it’s all going to blow up or some merciful god will sweep

it away. And it makes its way into politics in the form of the lust for

destructive war. In advanced civilization, when alienation and distress

are overwhelming, the apocalyptic subplots come to the front as powerful

movements that attempt murder-suicide on a national or even global

scale.

The anti-civilization movement is like an apocalyptic religion that has

awakened: unlike the others, it can explain and justify its emotional

motivation for seeking the end of the world, it can precisely define the

“world” that it wants to end, it can explain in verifiable terms why

that world cannot and must not survive, and it can point to a world that

it wants to preserve, a foundation for post-apocalypse living that is

grounded in the documented reality of nature-based human cultures.

War / Violence. Why do young men always get excited about going off to

war? They think it’s going to be fun and thrillingly dangerous, and then

it turns out to be intensely uncomfortable and boring, punctuated by

horrific pointless killing and maiming, and they return cynical and

traumatized for life, and then 20 years later, young men again get

excited about going off to war. What’s going on here?

Tribal warfare among nature-based people is very much like the warfare

that young men idealize. It’s consensual, civilians are rarely harmed,

it’s fun and meaningful, and deadly force is constrained by ritual, so

that serious injury and death are just common enough to make it

interesting. Also the economic function of this warfare is not to build

an empire, but to maintain balance between tribes, either by settling

territorial disputes or by raiding supplies to redistribute wealth. (For

more on this, look for Stanley Diamond’s book In Search of the

Primitive)

In civilization, our biological memories of what it means to go to war,

and what it means to “support the troops,” are hijacked and twisted to

make us feel good about wars where old women and babies are

machine-gunned and cities are firebombed to enable an empire to turn the

world into a desert and feed the control-lust of its elites.

Likewise, among dissidents, our natural urge to fight the system

physically is channeled into bombings and assassinations, which feed the

kind of deadly violence that strengthens the patterns of Empire, and

then the pacifists use this mistake to condemn all “violence” and limit

dissent to protest marches and other symbolic expressions that are

feeble and pathetic if they’re not backed up by action.

If we understand this, we are neither for nor against “violence” or

“war.” We feel good about a certain kind of fighting and we refuse to be

tricked into supporting another kind.

Greed. Everyone says the Bush gang, and the elite in general, are

motivated by greed. But then some people look closer and say, “Wait, why

to they keep seeking money when they already have so much that more will

not improve their lives?”

When you look at the accumulation of capital in its ecological and

spiritual context, from the first farmer storing grain up to

Halliburton, you see that money is just a dream, a symbolic place-holder

for detachment and control, the drugs of civilization, which make you

feel strong and happy but then you need more and more just to feel

normal. Under the mask, the corporate executive’s desire for profit is

the same thing as the serial killer’s desire for a new victim, or the

suburbanite’s desire for a more powerful lawn mower, or the

eco-humanist’s desire for clean fusion power.

Techno-Utopia. Jerry Mander, in his book In the Absence of the Sacred,

offers a surprising metaphor for the technological “progress” of

civilization. All known beings, other than civilized humans, adapt and

co-evolve with an environment made up of other beings with whom they

interact on equal terms. Civilized humans alone replace this living,

dynamic, unpredictable environment with a controlled, self-constructed

environment modeled on visions in our heads. Everywhere we replace what

we have found with what we have made. Look around right now — how many

things can you see that were not made by humans? It follows that our

evolution is no longer with others but only with ourselves — we are

inbreeding!

From the perspective of all other life, human civilization is a cancer,

but from the perspective of humans, civilization is a blow-up doll, a

dead synthetic membrane that we play with for shallow pleasure, in a

mockery of real procreation, because we are too frightened and

incompetent to deal with the complexity and aliveness of reality.

Instead of walking on the forest floor and scanning it for the stems of

edible roots, we walk on chemically-sterilized linoleum and scan it for

dirty spots to clean. Instead of listening to the birds to know what

other animals are around, we listen to mass-duplicated recorded music

with lyrics typically about infantile fixations on other humans. Instead

of watching the sky to know the coming weather, we watch mass-duplicated

recorded TV shows that offer an idealized view of the tedious and

meaningless dramas of our enclosed little world.

What keeps all this going is energy — specifically, energy in excess of

what we would have through living in balance with other life, eating and

using our muscles. Energy is the pump for the blow-up doll, or it’s the

physical drug that feeds the mental drugs of detachment and control,

which we crave in greater and greater quantities, leading us

compulsively toward genocide and ecocide.

We need less of this kind of “technology,” not more. We need to get off

our drug and come down before we kill everything that moves. The worst

thing that could possibly happen to humans and the Earth would be

unlimited, free, clean energy. We would use it the way we have always

used it, but more: to cut down filthy dangerous trees and replace them

with clean safe artificial trees, to flatten useless mountains and put

up engineered climbing rocks and ski slopes, to tame the weather into

blue skies with puffy clouds that never rain, and don’t need to rain

because we have rivers of Dasani™ circulated through pumps. We would

turn the Earth into 200 million square miles of Disneyland, with the few

remaining wild animals in NatureDomes where every flea would be

computer-tagged. And when this system finally crashed, through sheer

incompatibility with the cosmos, nothing would survive bigger than

bacteria.

Intelligent Life in Space. When civilized people say “intelligent life,”

they mean civilized life, creatures on other planets that kill or

control other creatures on those planets to produce “resources” and

machines of domination, which eventually get so “advanced” that they can

fly through space and monopolize and exploit the life of more and more

planets... But then our scientists get puzzled: Why, with a hundred

billion stars in our galaxy, many of which must have planets suitable

for life, haven’t we found any evidence of extraterrestrial

civilizations, beaming their modulated electromagnetic communications

through the galaxy, warping around in metal ships like we see in our own

culture’s mythology of the future, landing on our planet and trading

their more advanced distracting/dominating gadgets for our submission to

the Interstellar Monetary Fund which stealthily enslaves the Earth’s

people and accelerates its transformation into a lifeless desert while

temporarily enriching human elites?

What we’re really looking for in space is other stupid life, other life

that has gone mad the same way we have, and we haven’t found it because

our madness is a violently unsustainable deviation from reality, and if

creatures on other planets have done it, they burned out and crashed in

a galactic microsecond the same way we’re doing, and their sitcoms and

commercials and nationalist talk radio blew by us for only 50 years when

we were lounging in grass huts eating mangoes, or will blow by us in the

future when we’re doing so again.

The Economy. What we call the “economy” is only one particular economy,

characterized by: 1) command by “corporations,” artificial superhumans

defined as having no compassion, only the drive to increase their own

ability to dominate. 2) “growth,” or the escalating transformation of

the life of the Earth into dead artifacts and the tokens of

ability-to-dominate, or “wealth.” 3) “employment,” a radically

disempowering social arrangement in which humans do commanded

hyper-specialized labor all day in exchange for tokens which they trade

for necessities and entertainment, neither of which they know how to

provide for themselves, but which are provided by other commanded

laborers who they don’t even know.

It’s hard to imagine a more satanic system, and in its absence we would

build different economies, almost any of which would be better. Also,

when you understand what the tokens of wealth are based on, the whole

system looks like a bunch of kids making play money with which they buy

and sell back, at higher and higher prices, a bar of chocolate that

they’re almost done eating, and that was stolen in the first place.

Instead of trying to save that system, or even trying to destroy it, we

should just get the hell out.

Science. What we call “science” is only one particular science, a style

of filtering experience that has been designed by and for a culture of

uniformity and central control. It accepts only experiences that can be

translated into numbers, that are available to everyone, and that can be

reproduced on command. This is what scientists mean when they demand

“proof.” But this is only a tiny thread of all possible experiences,

most of which are unique, not quantifiable, not reproducible, and not

the same for all observers. Basically, the science of Empire deals only

with fully domesticated data and not wild data, because a science that

accepted wild data would feed a culture that would quickly diversify

into a chaos that would make central control impossible.

The critique of civilization, when you think it through, leads us

directly into the so-called “paranormal,” into the expansion of our

curious attention through new sciences that can accept and navigate

diverse realities.

Biblical Literalism. The belief that the Bible (or any other religious

document) is simply literally true, is not conservatism but extreme

modernism. The deeper people shrink into the tightly controlled mind

space of civilization, the less they are able to deal with complexity,

ambiguity, mutability, or aliveness. They don’t know how to admit

they’re wrong, change their minds, or do any real spiritual wrestling —

they just want someone to tell them how it is, period, forever. So they

choose to take whatever collection of translations of old writings was

put in front of them by some authority, and accept it as true in the

simplest way. Whatever religion they think they are, they are

Cartesians, believing in the reducibility of all experience to

machine-like mental models, and they are worshippers of Empire,

insisting on a spiritual system that forces universal uniformity of

perspective and enables central control.

Western Religion. The stories of Christianity (which overlap the stories

of Judaism and Islam) make a lot more sense when they’re interpreted in

the context of the critique of civilization. (For more on this subject,

check out Daniel Quinn’s book Ishmael.) The Garden of Eden represents

the original human condition, a life of ease and plenty, staying in our

place and taking what God/Nature gives us. The Fall is our choice to

reject this way of living, to take food by force by domesticating plants

and animals and storing great surpluses, so that we’re no longer

dependent on God/Nature, but have made ourselves into gods. When Jesus

told people to abandon material wealth, and imitate the birds and the

flowers, he was telling us to abandon civilization and return to living

as part of nature. Even the Beast of Revelations resembles advanced

civilization, a many-headed entity that destroys the world and forces us

into submission.

Eastern Religion. There are a lot of Eastern religions and philosophies,

and this argument does not apply to all of them. But the most popular

ones seem to contain two key myths of civilization. One is humanism,

which appears as the idea that humans are on a “higher” spiritual

“level” than all other animals. And the other, underlying this, is the

idea of spiritual “progress,” that different states of being can be put

in order from worse to better, and that we are supposed to travel in the

correct direction toward some ideal state at the top. To defend these

beliefs, you have to hold that progress and human superiority are

universal truths, even though they have only ever appeared in a

short-lived and deviant culture which is using them to drive the

greatest mass-extinction in 60 million years.

Now, an Eastern-style belief system could avoid this criticism if it

were willing to strip off value, to declare that humans and other beings

are merely in different places, none better or worse, and if I want to

go hang out as a three-toed sloth for a billion lifetimes, that is

exactly as commendable as seeking “enlightenment.” I’m sure the actual

religions have more subtle ways to answer the criticism, but to my

knowledge, none of them are willing to accept the possibility that the

last several thousand years of human changes have been a spiritual

mistake.

Gnosticism. Gnosticism is one of the few civilized belief systems that

is not overturned by the critique of civilization, but just gets its

hair blown a little, and then can hang around and have a dialogue. I’m

dealing here with the simplified popular “gnosticism” found in movies

like The Matrix and The Truman Show: that we are in an artificial

reality, a prison for the mind and body, that we are kept here by a

sinister architect and agents who seem to be people like us, that we can

escape from the prison or even destroy it, and that someone on the

outside is trying to help us.

The key question is: Is wild nature part of the prison? Anyone who has

spent ten minutes watching swallows at sunset will not accept a belief

system that declares a need for swallows to awaken. As Edward Abbey

said:

In metaphysics, the notion that earth and all that’s on it is a mental

construct is the product of people who spend their lives inside rooms.

It is an indoor philosophy. In fact, most interpretations of Gnosticism

are far more sophisticated than that. They’re also more sophisticated

than the simple anti-civ position, that nature is the more-real outside

world and civilization (both its mental and physical aspects) is the

prison. They might say that the prison includes a certain view of

nature, and to get outside it we have to see beyond that, to a spiritual

nature that lies deeper, as the ocean underlies its surface. (Here’s a

discussion of gnosticism and nature on fantastic planet.)

The critique of civilization can enrich gnosticism by contributing

powerful stories with hard details about a particular prison, how it was

constructed, and how to get out of it. And gnosticism can give something

back: a metaphysical explanation for what civilization means and where

it came from, a deep story of the origin of this hell-world that speaks

of intelligence and intention and not just blind chance. I’ve read (and

written) plenty of speculations about how civilization got started, and

the hypothesis that humans have been possessed by life-hating occult

entities is not only the most meaningful, but one of the more plausible.

The Meaning of Life. When we ask about “the meaning of life,” we are

asking for the larger story in which our life fits. Inside civilization,

the larger story is “progress.” Progress and its corollaries, “growth”

and “wealth” and “education” and “upward” social mobility, tell us what

makes a meaningful and successful life: a college degree, a professional

certification, a clean house in the suburbs, a stock portfolio for

retirement, and some personal contribution to humans going somewhere

new.

From outside civilization, these are all the vaporous conceits of a

pathological culture on the verge of collapse. Of course there are other

philosophies that make our accustomed reality seem trivial — there’s

Cartesian nihilism, that we are just a bunch of dead bouncing particles

and waves, and there’s the astronomy cliche that we’re just parasites on

a speck of dust in the vastness of the cosmos, and there’s the religious

doctrine that our life on Earth is nothing compared to an eternity in

heaven or hell. But none of these provides a real alternative — by which

I mean an alternative that we can explore with our senses. Thus they all

lead to greater disconnection, and often despair.

The critique of civilization (which could more precisely be called the

nature-based critique of civilization) does provide a real alternative.

That’s why it’s so dangerous. The meaning of life doesn’t require

theologians or philosophers. It doesn’t even require language. You can

find it under a rock, in a weedy vacant lot, off the shoulder of the

freeway: the larger story in which your life fits, not to go somewhere,

but to be home.