I think almost everyone would agree with that from the consideration of the pinhole of their comfortable life.
The improvements in human quality of life from 1960 to 2018 are, however, at the expense of the natural world from which we came. The comforts of 2018 separate us almost entirely from the ecosystems that sustain the very basics of life. The separation and 'outsourcing' of these basics leads us to taking them for granted which lets growth and expansion happen without consideration of long-term consequences.
I think, however, by 1960 we were well on our way to how we find ourselves in 2018.
I'm not pointing my finger at you, I'm of the same opinion, I'm just using your comment to question the cost of what we have in 2018.
We've woken up to find ourselves on a train speeding towards a destination we don't want to reach, and there are lots of carriages between us and the engine (that turned into Snowpiercer, it was unintentional), but the carriage we're in is so comfortable and well-appointed that even the thought of attempting the journey towards the engine is exhausting.
I'm not sure that's a smart statement to make without having seen what 2038 and 2058 look like. If articles like this one about the sixth extinction aren't enough to sway your thinking, have you seen the pentagon report on the national security implications on the effects of climate change? I think it's a bit naive to think that you and everyone you know will be immune to the effects of heat waves, droughts, hurricanes, famine, etc. throughout the course of your lifetime. I've seen estimates as high as DARA's 2012 report of 100 million deaths by the year 2030 directly attributable to the impacts of climate change. Already Miami Beach spends millions on storm pumps just to stop its roads from being submerged by high tide -- and in addition to Miami, models predict the populations of Shanghai, Osaka, Alexandria and many other cities to be completely displaced by 2070. Perhaps there will be some technological Noah's Ark, but it's far from a sure bet that there will be enough space for you and your progeny if we do not find the political will to begin mitigation at scale as soon as possible.
In ecology, a common metaphor used to illustrate the impacts of the loss of biodiversity is the Rivet Hypothesis. Each species lost to extinction can be modeled as losing a rivet in the wing of a plane. Up to a certain point, a passenger on the plane would notice limited change in effects on their flight. Once the plane loses too many rivets, however, the crashing of the plane is analogous to the collapse of the ecosystem.
To answer your question about "How does that work", the generous answer would be to cite Nassim Taleb's Black Swan and Antifragile where he talks about the tendency of humans to underestimate the effects of long tail exposure to systemic risk. The less generous answer would be a reference to epistemic closure -- some people simply refuse to engage with evidence of a reality that contraindicates their prior beliefs. Or maybe the best model is simply that of addiction -- and who can argue that our society is not addicted to convenience and consumption, even when it threatens the only planet we live on?
I honestly don’t see any hope of us slowing down. The vast majority of people in developing countries would love it if their grandchildren could have similar lifestyles to Americans. I think we should focus on technology for us to sustain human populations while reducing our dependence on the biome. Think of it as practice for colonizing other planets in the future.
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[ 3.0 ms ] story [ 40.6 ms ] threadOur current lifestyle is definitely not helping.
The improvements in human quality of life from 1960 to 2018 are, however, at the expense of the natural world from which we came. The comforts of 2018 separate us almost entirely from the ecosystems that sustain the very basics of life. The separation and 'outsourcing' of these basics leads us to taking them for granted which lets growth and expansion happen without consideration of long-term consequences.
I think, however, by 1960 we were well on our way to how we find ourselves in 2018.
I'm not pointing my finger at you, I'm of the same opinion, I'm just using your comment to question the cost of what we have in 2018.
We've woken up to find ourselves on a train speeding towards a destination we don't want to reach, and there are lots of carriages between us and the engine (that turned into Snowpiercer, it was unintentional), but the carriage we're in is so comfortable and well-appointed that even the thought of attempting the journey towards the engine is exhausting.
In ecology, a common metaphor used to illustrate the impacts of the loss of biodiversity is the Rivet Hypothesis. Each species lost to extinction can be modeled as losing a rivet in the wing of a plane. Up to a certain point, a passenger on the plane would notice limited change in effects on their flight. Once the plane loses too many rivets, however, the crashing of the plane is analogous to the collapse of the ecosystem.
To answer your question about "How does that work", the generous answer would be to cite Nassim Taleb's Black Swan and Antifragile where he talks about the tendency of humans to underestimate the effects of long tail exposure to systemic risk. The less generous answer would be a reference to epistemic closure -- some people simply refuse to engage with evidence of a reality that contraindicates their prior beliefs. Or maybe the best model is simply that of addiction -- and who can argue that our society is not addicted to convenience and consumption, even when it threatens the only planet we live on?