I Don't Wanna Live In The Modern World

What a weird, fucked up world we live in. Fascists are taking over the government, genocide is being normalized, old diseases are making a comeback, hundreds of species are going extinct every day, and the natural resources we rely on—such as oil and rare earth minerals—are rapidly disappearing.

As for climate change? Worse than the worst-case scenario we were warned about decades ago. Not only is it worse than the worst-case scenario, the government is pretending climate change doesn’t exist and vowing to “drill baby drill.” It’s almost as if they’re trying to destroy civilization as quickly and thoroughly as possible without resorting to nuclear war (yet another danger that is becoming more and more likely).

Sometimes when I see a terrifying headline, I hear a song in my head. It’s called American Eulogy by Green Day, and in the second half of the song, the chorus goes, “I don’t wanna live in the modern world”. It’s from a brilliant but often overlooked album called 21st Century Breakdown. I keep hearing that chorus in my head, over and over, like a mantra. I don’t wanna live in the modern world.

Humans weren’t meant to live in a world like this. We weren’t meant to sit all day, staring at computer screens, absorbing thousands of terrifying headlines and advertisements for bullshit products. We weren’t meant to spend our free time alone, desperately seeking connection through a tiny screen, getting validation from likes and emojis which can never truly replace hugs and shared laughter.

We were meant to be together—building things, solving problems, telling stories, teaching one another, and enjoying the beauty of nature. For most of our history, humans lived in tribes of a few hundred people. The average person had about 150 meaningful relationships and about 5 intimate friendships (look up Dunbar’s number).

Today, people have very few meaningful relationships and only about 3 intimate friendships—and those friendships are mostly experienced through phones. So despite the fact that there are more people on the planet than ever before, we’re more isolated than ever before. Meanwhile, the news gets scarier every day, and it seems impossible to escape it. The stress and loneliness are literally killing us—and killing me.

About a year ago, I abruptly stopped writing. I know this disappointed some people who really like my work, but I just had a to take a break. Why?

For the first four decades of my life, I was blissfully ignorant. I knew the world was a fucked up place, but I still expected civilization to continue advancing and improving for a few more centuries. I was excited about all the amazing technologies and scientific breakthroughs I would witness in the 21st century.

Then, about 4 years ago, I realized that civilization doesn’t have a few centuries left. It doesn’t even have a few decades left. In all likelihood, everyone I care about will die in the next 10-20 years, whether from disease, murder, starvation, nuclear war, or some climate disaster.

I wanted to warn people, but I knew they would think I was crazy if I didn’t do it carefully. So, I started blogging about it. I documented all the horrible things happening in the world and explained why they were happening. Eventually, I sent a link to my blog to a few friends and family members. One family member really liked it. As for everyone else… Nothing.

I waited a few days, then I reached out and asked if they had read any of my articles. Most of them had, and to my surprise, a few of them thought I was right about the modern world coming to an end. Even so, they didn’t have much to say. As one close friend told me, “There’s nothing we can do, so why even talk about it?”

After that, I felt like I was living in The Twilight Zone. Why weren’t they freaking out as much as I was? How could they just go on living their lives and pretending everything was okay? Why weren’t we selling our homes, pooling our resources, and building an off-grid community somewhere up north? Wouldn’t that be the rational thing to do?

I suggested this to a few of them, but the main excuse I heard was that it’s too difficult. In order to move up north, they’d have to leave everything behind and completely upend their lives, and they simply aren’t willing to do that. Never mind that their lives will soon be upended by the collapse of civilization. Doesn’t matter. It’s much easier to just bury their heads in the sand.

They are slaves to the modern world, and so am I. If it weren’t for my kids, I’d probably find and join some off-grid community. As it is, I have two boys—ages 9 and 12—and their mother won’t let me take them to some commune. It seems I have no choice but to keep working a regular job and preparing for the future as well as I can.

Maybe this is cope, but I wonder how much extra time we’d get by living off grid somewhere. A few years? Maybe a few months? After all, it’s almost impossible to be completely self-sufficient, and even if a group of people did become self-sufficient, how long before a wildfire burns down their home? How long before a weather disaster destroys their crops? How long before they’re invaded by marauders from the cities?

So here I am, living in a single family home and contributing to the climate crisis with my computer and my furnace and my car and my plastic crap and my foods that were delivered to my town on refrigerated trucks. Just glancing around my room, I can think of a dozen ways I’m contributing to climate change.

I hate that I’ve always been part of the problem, but I don’t know how to stop. This is the harsh reality of the modern world: Not only is it going to collapse into chaos and widespread suffering, by continuing to live in the modern world, we’re making the collapse that much worse.

I’m often reminded that corporations are the ones we should blame. If you don’t know, several fossil fuel companies specifically created marketing campaigns designed to shift the responsibility for climate change onto individuals. And I agree, oil companies should held accountable.

Even so, whenever I turn up my heater because it’s cold, or buy something online that I couldn’t find locally, or eat some frozen fruit that was shipped here from across the world, I feel guilty. My carbon footprint isn’t as large as a billionaire’s, but since I live in the United States, it’s still larger than the average human’s. The only way to cut my carbon footprint completely is to go live in a hut in the woods, and I’m pretty sure I’d lose custody if I did that.

Speaking of children, trying to raise them in this dystopian nightmare gets harder all the time. Whenever they talk about what they want to do when they grow up or what the world will be like when they’re adults, I wince. Of course, I don’t say anything. Not yet. I just smile and listen. They know the world is a mess, but they still don’t know just how bad it is.

How am I supposed to tell them that it’s extremely unlikely they’ll make it to my age? Maybe not even half my age?

So why did I take a break from writing? Because I was tired of feeling sad. At first, reading everything I could about overshoot and collapse was fascinating. But over time, the reality of collapse began to sink in, and I started imagining all the awful things that could happen to me and my family in the future.

The cherry on top was getting divorced around the same time I became collapse-aware, and later being faced with possibility that I’ll have to change careers. The end of my marriage, the end of my career, the end of the world… it’s just too much.

I’ve struggled with anxiety and addiction for decades, and if I allow too much negativity into my life, I’m either going to have a mental breakdown or I’m going to start binge-drinking again, and neither of those are an option. If I were ever going to rise to the challenge and meet my potential, it’s right now, but I can’t do that while learning every single detail of how this civilization is completely fucked.

However, I’m still going to keep blogging. But instead of articles where I go into painstaking detail about how bad things are (such as my article, The World Has Already Ended), I’m going to write articles more like this one, where I simply share my thoughts on life in the age of collapse. I’m hoping it will be therapeutic for me and anyone who reads it.

That’s all for now. I don’t know how to end this one, so here are some lyrics from American Eulogy by Green Day:

“Well, I wanna take a ride to the great divide
Beyond the "up-to-date" and the neo-gentrified
The high-definition for the low resident
Where the value of your mind is not held in contempt
I can hear the sound of a beatin' heart
That bleeds beyond a system that is fallin' apart
With money to burn on a minimum wage
Well, I don't give a shit about the modern age, yeah
I don't wanna live in the modern world
I don't wanna live in the modern world
I don't wanna live in the modern world
I don't wanna live in the modern world.”