Apocalyptic Capitalism
By Chris HedgesDecember 08, 2015 "Information
Clearing House" - "Truthdig"
- The charade of the
21st United Nations climate summit will end, as past climate
summits have ended, with lofty rhetoric and ineffectual cosmetic
reforms. Since the first summit more than 20 years ago, carbon
dioxide emissions have soared. Placing faith in our political and
economic elites, who have mastered the arts of duplicity and
propaganda on behalf of corporate power, is the triumph of hope over
experience. There are only a few ways left to deal honestly with
climate change: sustained civil disobedience that disrupts the
machinery of exploitation; preparing for the inevitable dislocations
and catastrophes that will come from irreversible rising
temperatures; and cutting our personal carbon footprints, which
means drastically reducing our consumption, particularly of animal
products.
“Our civilization,”
Dr. Richard Oppenlander writes in “Food Choice and
Sustainability, “displays a curious instinct when confronted with a
problem related to overconsumption—we simply find a way to produce
more of what it is we are consuming, instead of limiting or stopping
that consumption.”
The global elites have no intention of interfering
with the profits, or ending government subsidies, for the fossil
fuel industry and the extraction industries. They will not curtail
extraction or impose hefty carbon taxes to keep fossil fuels in the
ground. They will not limit the overconsumption that is the engine
of global capitalism. They act as if the greatest contributor of
greenhouse gases—the animal agriculture industry—does not exist.
They siphon off trillions of dollars and employ scientific and
technical expertise—expertise that should be directed toward
preparing for environmental catastrophe and investing in renewable
energy—to wage endless wars in the Middle East. What they airily
hold out as a distant solution to the crisis—wind turbines and solar
panels—is, as the scientist
James Lovelock says, the equivalent of 18th-century doctors
attempting to cure serious diseases with leeches and mercury. And as
the elites mouth platitudes about saving the climate they are
shoving still another trade agreement, the Trans-Pacific Partnership
(TPP), down our throats. The TPP permits corporations to ignore
nonbinding climate accords made at conferences such as the one in
Paris, and it allows them, in secret trade tribunals, to defy
environmental regulations imposed by individual states.
New technology—fracking, fuel-efficient vehicles
or genetically modified food—is not about curbing overconsumption or
conserving resources. It is about ensuring that consumption
continues at unsustainable levels. Technological innovation,
employed to build systems of greater and greater complexity, has
fragmented society into cadres of specialists. The expertise of each
of these specialists is limited to a small section of the elaborate
technological, scientific and bureaucratic machinery that drives
corporate capitalism forward—much as in the specialized bureaucratic
machinery that defined the genocide carried out by the Nazis. These
technocrats are part of the massive, unthinking hive that makes any
system work, even a system of death. They lack the intellectual and
moral capacity to question the doomsday machine spawned by global
capitalism. And they are in control.
Civilizations careening toward collapse create
ever more complex structures, and more intricate specialization, to
exploit diminishing resources. But eventually the resources are
destroyed or exhausted. The systems and technologies designed to
exploit these resources become useless. Economists call such a
phenomenon the
“Jevons paradox.” The result is systems collapse.
In the wake of collapses, as evidenced throughout
history, societies fragment politically, culturally and socially.
They become failed states, bleak and desolate outposts where law and
order break down, and there is a mad and often violent scramble for
the basic necessities of life. Barbarism reigns.
“Only the strong survive; the weak are victimized,
robbed, and killed,” the anthropologist Joseph Tainter writes in
“The Collapse of Complex Societies.” “There is fighting for food and
fuel. Whatever central authority remains lacks the resources to
reimpose order. Bands of pitiful, maimed survivors scavenge among
the ruins of grandeur. Grass grows in the streets. There is no
higher goal than survival.”
The elites, trained in business schools and
managerial programs not to solve real problems but to maintain at
any cost the systems of global capitalism, profit personally from
the assault. They amass inconceivable sums of wealth while their
victims, the underclasses around the globe, are thrust into
increasing distress from global warming, poverty and societal
breakdown. The apparatus of government, seized by this corporate
cabal, is hostile to genuine change. It passes laws, as it did for
Denton, Texas, after
residents voted to outlaw fracking in their city, to overturn
the ability of local communities to control their own resources. It
persecutes dissidents, along with environmental and animal rights
activists, who try to halt the insanity. The elites don’t work for
us. They don’t work for the planet. They orchestrate the
gaiacide. And they are well paid for it.
The Anthropocene Age—the age of humans, which has
caused mass extinctions of plant and animal species and the
pollution of the soil, air and oceans—is upon us. The pace of
destruction is accelerating. Climate scientists say that sea levels,
for example, are rising three times faster than predicted and that
the Arctic ice is vanishing at rates that were unforeseen. “If
carbon dioxide concentrations reach 550 ppm,” writes Clive Hamilton
in “Requiem for a Species,” “after which emissions fell to zero, the
global temperature would continue to rise for at least another
century.” We have already passed 400 parts per million, a figure not
seen on earth for 3 million to 5 million years. We are on track to
reach at least 550 ppm by 2100.
The breakdown of the planet, many predict, will be
nonlinear, meaning that various systems that sustain life—as Tainter
chronicles in his study of collapsed civilizations—will disintegrate
simultaneously. The infrastructures that distribute food, supply our
energy, ensure our security, produce and transport our baffling
array of products, and maintain law and order will crumble at once.
It won’t be much fun: Soaring temperatures. Submerged island states
and coastal cities. Mass migrations. Species extinction. Monster
storms. Droughts. Famines. Declining crop yields. And a security and
surveillance apparatus, along with militarized police, that will
employ harsher and harsher methods to cope with the chaos.
We have to let go of our relentless positivism,
our absurd mania for hope, and face the bleakness of reality before
us. To resist means to acknowledge that we are living in a world
already heavily damaged by global warming. It means refusing to
participate in the destruction of the planet. It means
noncooperation with authority. It means defying in every way
possible consumer capitalism, militarism and imperialism. It means
adjusting our lifestyle, including what we eat, to thwart the forces
bent upon our annihilation.
The animal agriculture industry has, in a
staggering act of near total censorship, managed to stifle public
discussion about the industry’s complicity in global warming. It is
barely mentioned in climate summits. Yet livestock and their
byproducts, as Kip Andersen and Keegan Kuhn point out in their book,
“The Sustainability Secret,” and their documentary,
“Cowspiracy,” account for at least 32,000 million tons of carbon
dioxide (CO2)
per year, or 51 percent of all worldwide greenhouse gas emissions.
Methane and nitrous oxide are rarely mentioned in climate talks,
although those two greenhouse gases are, as the authors point out,
respectively, 86 times and 296 times more destructive than carbon
dioxide. Cattle, worldwide, they write, produce 150 billion gallons
of methane daily. And 65 percent of the nitrous oxide produced by
human-related activities is caused by the animal agriculture
industry. Water used in fracking, they write, ranges from 70 billion
to 140 billion gallons annually. Animal agriculture water
consumption, the book notes, ranges from 34 trillion to 76 trillion
gallons annually. Raising animals for human consumption takes up to
45 percent of the planet’s land. Ninety-one percent of the
deforestation of the Amazon rain forest and up to 80 percent of
global rain forest loss are caused by clearing land for the grazing
of livestock and growing feed crops for meat and dairy animals. As
more and more rain forest disappears, the planet loses one of its
primary means to safely sequester carbon dioxide. The animal
agriculture industry is, as Andersen and Kuhn write, also a
principal cause of species extinction and the creation of more than
95,000 square miles of nitrogen-flooded dead zones in the oceans.
A person who eats a vegan diet, they point out, a
diet free of meat, dairy and eggs, saves 1,100 gallons of water, 45
pounds of grain, 30 square feet of forested land, 20 pounds CO2
equivalent, and one animal’s life every day.
The animal agriculture industry has pushed through
“Ag-Gag” laws in many states that criminalize protests,
critiques of the industry, and whistleblowing attempts to bring the
public’s attention to the staggering destruction wrought on the
environment by the business of raising 70 billion land animals every
year worldwide to be exploited and consumed by humans. And they have
done so, I presume, because defying the animal agriculture industry
is as easy as deciding not to put animal products—which have
tremendous, scientifically proven health risks—into your mouth.
We have little time left. Those who are despoiling
the earth do so for personal gain, believing they can use their
privilege to escape the fate that will befall the human species. We
may not be able to stop the assault. But we can refuse to abet it.
The idols of power and greed, as the biblical prophets warned us,
threaten to doom the human race.
Timothy Pachirat recounts in his book, “Every
Twelve Seconds: Industrialized Slaughter and the Politics of Sight,”
an Aug. 5, 2004, story in the Omaha World-Herald. An “old-timer” who
lived five miles from the Omaha slaughterhouses recalled the wind
carrying the stench of the almost six and a half million cattle,
sheep and hogs killed each year in south Omaha. The sickly odor
permeated buildings throughout the area.
“It was the smell of money,” the old-timer said.
“It was the smell of money.”
Chris Hedges previously
spent nearly two decades as a foreign correspondent in Central
America, the Middle East, Africa and the Balkans. He has reported
from more than 50 countries and has worked for The Christian Science
Monitor, National Public Radio, The Dallas Morning News and The New
York Times, for which he was a foreign correspondent for 15 years.
“The Sustainability Secret,” a book quoted in
this column, has an introduction by Truthdig columnist Chris Hedges
and was ghostwritten by Truthdig’s books editor, Eunice Wong.