Resilience.org is running a series of posts capturing a conversation between myself and energy transition advocate Dave Murphy—moderated by Ben McCall. The entire conversation (from back in 2023–2024) involved eight exchanges—the first two of which were presented in Part 1, while this installment covers the third exchange (appeared on Resilience on April 27).

The original content is replicated below, followed by additional comments from me that are not addressed in the exchange itself. Within the text, links within [square brackets] point to content further down the page. At the end of each addition, another link returns to the paragraph of origin (or use browser “back” navigation). If preferring not to interrupt the flow, those additional comments are always waiting at the bottom to scoop up any time.

Third Exchange: Fraught Predictions

Ben: I’d like to interject a clarifying point here: I don’t believe that Tom is advocating for a loss of the beneficial elements of modernity, but rather inferring from available data that planetary limits simply won’t allow modernity to continue. Dave, earlier, you said “If we are saying that all the advances of modern medicine and society that require, for example, plastic or energy must be abandoned after the ‘dust settles,’ well then I am not sure what to say.” It does sound like Tom thinks that such advances likely cannot be sustained (not that they would be intentionally abandoned), so I wonder what you might say to that. How confident are you that we get to choose?

Dave: At its core, our differences seem to be about choice, that is, whether there is a choice. If I may summarize your argument, it is that humanity may deceive itself into thinking they have agency over their fate, but the ecological reality is already written in stone. [Written in stone?] There is some sort of catastrophe ahead, as modernity is careening past planetary limits, and our current efforts at sustainability, e.g. global biodiversity policy or the Sustainable Development Goals or whatever, amount to playing music on the Titanic. [Where this analogy fails]

Ok—I’ll bite.

How is your argument any different than the Malthusian argument of the 19th Century? Thomas Malthus was convinced that society was going to collapse as food supply would be outstripped by population which would lead to massive starvation and death. That did not come to pass.

Then came the Limits to Growth paper in 1972 claiming that a combination of factors are indicating that the world is heading towards overshoot and collapse will follow. That has not yet come to pass either.

More recently the peak oil advocates, of which I was one for a time, claimed that peak oil occurred in 2007 and that massive price spikes were inevitable. Oil shortages and recessions were soon to come to pass, and for some, this meant that the world was again on the edge of collapse. Indeed, many saw this as validation of the Limits to Growth model. Yet, here we are 16 years later and oil shortages are not a reality. Quite the opposite happened in fact. Despite all the data and scientific analyses predicting imminent oil depletion, oil production in the U.S. boomed, largely due to technological innovation. [On failed predictions]

The message then shifted ever so slightly. It wasn’t the peak of “oil” but the peak of “cheap oil.” Peak conventional oil is indeed here, we were told, and what we see now is expensive, low EROI oil that will work for a bit, but, in the end, will fail. (Read: we aren’t wrong…just delaying, again, our call for the future collapse of the world due to oil depletion). But my most recent research indicates that the EROI of oil was never really that high, and renewable energy has a higher EROI than fossil fuels.

But before you think I am a complete techno-utopian (I am playing a bit of [devil’s advocate] 🙂), I would like to say that I think I understand the doomer response to these arguments as well. “We haven’t collapsed yet, but we have made the collapse possibly far worse by further extending the footprint of modern society.” I agree to an extent. I do think we are still abusing what Schumacher called the “tolerance margins” of the Earth, which are indeed finite. The ecosystem of Earth isn’t infinitely resilient. Every additional degradation of the environment in the name of economic growth will make the inevitable collapse and recovery harder. The trajectory of the ecological health of the planet has not changed over the past decade, and that is what matters in the end.

Yet, I am struck mostly by the confidence [overconfidence?] in the doomer argument that the future must entail a broad, full-scale collapse, and I think it is important to think about what we mean when we say “collapse.” What does collapse look like? The logic presented is so simple: overshoot is here, so correction must follow. And just to be clear, I think as well that a correction will occur, but I must admit that the shape of that correction isn’t set in stone, and I would say is very much largely unknown.

Isn’t the most likely outcome some sort of long, muddling-through period by which economic growth reverberates between periods of growth and stagnation while the energy system is slowly transformed? Not necessarily the boom times people are used to, far from the last 150 years of grow-grow-grow, but also not a complete collapse of modern society. [Growth vs. Scale] I could make an argument that this process has already begun.

Unfortunately, I see war as another possible form of collapse. The “West” led by the USA and NATO seem to be on a crash course with “The East” led by Russia, China and Iran. If this does come to pass, ecological health will be the last thing on anyone’s mind, and, though some of the foundational reasons for the conflict could be related to resource use, the war would not be solely, or even largely, about ecology or ecological overshoot in general.

So there is so much we don’t know about the future, which brings me to my next question: if we don’t know the precise direction of the correction (i.e. collapse, muddling through, etc.), what is our ethical responsibility today? What is our responsibility to ourselves, to our local community, or to the global community?

It is my contention that most of the people in the world are, as you describe, “innocents.” I am from the U.S.A. Does that mean I am responsible for Trumpian foreign policy? I didn’t vote for him. Are people in corrupt areas of the world lumped in with whichever despot is in charge? Are all people on the planet today responsible for the trajectory of modernity? There are 2 billion people on this planet in poverty, what are they responsible for? [On shared responsibility] The point is this: the vast majority of the people on Earth are not willfully driving Spaceship Earth as it careens out of control, but they are on the Spaceship nonetheless.

Do we have an ethical obligation to other members of that Spaceship, i.e. society? Does each of us have an obligation to “love thy neighbor?” If so, what does it mean to love thy neighbor in this context?

Perhaps our differences, at their core, come down to this question: what are we to do now?

Reading your response one would understandably conclude that it’s “bunker-building” time. [Bunker-building?] Abandon ship everyone! It seems like any individual efforts are meaningless considering the overall trajectory of the planet. But isn’t that overall trajectory simply the sum of individual decisions? If we can change one individual from overconsuming to sustainably consuming [I doubt he means hunter-gatherer], then doesn’t that help? Scale that to a society and then, perhaps, the world? Perhaps that is naive, but perhaps it is exactly what is needed. Think global, act local, right?

It is not for us to judge whether the Earth can or cannot sustain the current trajectory of modernity, that is simply a function of the ecology, but it is for us to judge what we do about that ecology right now. Choosing to do nothing, to fiddle while Rome burns [Do I advocate fiddling?], is in fact a choice, and one that carries consequences for all around us. Our actions today influence the ecology of Earth, and therefore its sustainability, so why not try to improve? The reality is that the vast majority of the people on this planet are innocent, have very few resources, and therefore don’t have the luxury to ponder such concerns, let alone do anything about them. These conversations exist only for the privileged (of which I am one as well).

We do not know what the future looks like, and if there is a possibility that insulin production and clean water and other features of modernity can be saved, and therefore more of our neighbors can survive, then we—those that have the capacity to ponder such things—are ethically obligated to do our best to achieve that future.

Ben: It’s delightful that we have forged agreement that there will be some sort of correction, or collapse, or muddling…that is, that modernity as we know it cannot last indefinitely. There seem to be two major points of contention remaining: (1) what this correction/collapse/muddling is likely to look like, and (2) what ethical principles should guide our actions in light of the knowledge that such a transition is coming. Let’s try to focus on (1) for now, and come back to (2) later in the conversation. Dave proposes that the most likely outcome is a “long, muddling-through period by which economic growth reverberates between periods of growth and stagnation while the energy system is slowly transformed.” Tom, I sense that you have a different sense of the likely outcome: could you offer your perspective on the likelihood of Dave’s proposed outcome, and perhaps the likelihood of other potential outcomes?

Tom: Well, predictions are hard—especially about the future. That said, the physicist in me looks for encompassing principles to help at least differentiate the possible from what is likely impossible, independent of what’s familiar or appealing. In doing so, I tend to step back from a messy decades-scale view, thinking instead on timescales of centuries or millennia. These are civilization-relevant timescales, and can help us avoid pursuing decade-scale efforts that are likely to fall into the same traps by delayed, alternate routes—while accumulating further, often irreversible, ecological harm in the process.

For instance, it is easy to see that growth—which has been a bedrock companion of modernity—cannot continue for much longer. So, why try? Fossil fuel use will necessarily decline, forming a pulse in time. Human population—temporarily inflated by agriculture’s heavy dependence on fossil fuels and other rapidly depleting gifts like aquifers and soils—will likely follow suit, exacerbated by climate change. A look at ore quality over time confirms that the low-hanging fruit is long gone the world-over, so that it becomes increasingly harder and more ecologically destructive to maintain the past century’s sprint in materials extraction—necessary for renewable energy technology. Recycling also hits quantitative limits, in that only a few dozen cycles are practical before the recovered resource dwindles to insignificance. A forward, literal extrapolation of global ecological trends of the last century would leave us with no forests, wild land mammals or insects within a few human lifetimes—especially as firewood and hunting might offset faltering energy and agricultural outputs.

The celebrated hockey stick curves in GDP, energy, materials, population, etc. are direct manifestations of the rapid and temporary draw-down of a non-renewable inheritance. These curves will have to come back down, likely by an order-of-magnitude or more—perhaps in self-destabilizing feedback. I don’t see them “defying gravity” and hovering at some high level, given biophysical and ecological constraints. Not only is this moment we call modernity ludicrously atypical, but it is fundamentally, inherently unsustainable—meaning that its failure is basically guaranteed (not a choice). Don’t get too attached. If my prognosis seems extreme, it is only because the present condition to which we have become inured—atop our hockey sticks—is itself extremely precarious.

Again, failure of modernity is not the same thing as failure of humanity. We have other options. Whatever much-reduced flow comes out the other side, it can have some very positive features. The bottleneck in getting from here to there is very hard to think about, and likely to be unpleasantly turbulent. But we can think about what long-term sustainability could look like, and start calmly sloughing off the deleterious trappings of modernity—rather than engaging in what is likely a futile attempt to continue some familiar, comfortable version of modernity by alternate means only to make the ultimate transition costlier. I believe that a successful result would be unrecognizable to our modernity-acclimated eyes, involving values foreign to most of us today.

End of Part 2

This second post covers the third of eight exchanges. We’ll pick up the conversation in the next installment. The sections that follow offer additional commentary that was not part of the initial exchange. Turns out, I had more to say.

Written in Stone?

It often happens that any hint of determinism sets people off, which I believe traces to a dualist or idealist metaphysical preference. If one first imagines having complete agency as an entity separate from the material universe and the physics that drives it (i.e., dualism), then any suggestion that other forces dictate our actions is anathema. A person who starts with an anthropocentric misimpression of how the universe works will likely refuse to cede the false sense of agency that accompanies such a metaphysics. From this skewed perspective, ceding agency can only be nihilistic and defeatist: if we’re not at the helm of the ship (note the self-promotion), then what’s the point? Obviously, to me, the point is not to delude ourselves or insist on being at the helm. If able to drop this sense of self-importance, many perspectives change, without nihilism or defeatism taking over: trust me!

Not being at the helm is not to say that we don’t play some role. Of course we do: we are materially deeply interwoven into this universe and inevitably engage interactively, with consequences. The question is what role we play, which itself is wrapped up in cognitive interpretation as to whether “we” write the script or are carried by it. In any case, the script isn’t written in advance—in stone or on any other substrate.

Speaking of stones, a stone in midair has a pretty obvious near-future ahead of it, and modernity shares similar features of a demonstrably unsustainable existence and set of dependencies. Whether we perceive or accept this won’t change the material reality. (Return to conversation)

Music on the Titanic

A rapidly-sinking ship in frigid waters with too few lifeboats is a dire situation. Once set in motion, no conceivable action would prevent the ship’s sinking or somehow save all its people. I admire those musicians who recognized the futility, deciding to offer comfort and beauty in those final moments: tremendous bravery! By contrast, scrambling to devise “sustainable development goals” is like trying to shove blankets into the gaping, gushing gash in the hull in a futile attempt to save the ship (modernity) rather than pivoting to something tenable. In my view, modernity is not salvageable, and has insufficient lifeboats to somehow get 8 billion people into the next phase. So, in a sense, I am also recommending calm equanimity and acceptance, like those reality-accepting musicians. (Return to conversation)

Failed Predictions

I was a bit surprised to see the favorite “whipping boys” of neoclassical economists trotted out by someone who tends to reject neoclassical views. Later, Dave admits to playing a bit of devil’s advocate, but we’ll return to that.

Yes, Malthus missed the super-charged effects of the fossil fuel pulse, and that should certainly give us pause about how difficult future predictions can be. But who here really believes that a similar “miracle” is in store for another boost on the scale of fossil fuels? If you’re thinking renewable energy, think bigger. Think: sixth mass extinction. How is the ecological nosedive going to turn around if we’re oblivious to it and prioritize energizing the machine that cranks out ecological ruin (greenhouse gases being a minor player in the suite of impacts)?

The scenarios of the Limits to Growth work have “not yet come to pass.” Correct. Essentially the same statement is that the year 2050 has not yet come to pass. If I predict that you will be dead by age 100, and you report that you’re still alive at 80, I don’t think that qualifies as an invalidation of the prediction. Also, the LtG folks were super-careful not to label their work as “predictive” as much as exposing consistent, robust failure modes stemming from generic features such as delays in negative feedback producing the phenomenon of overshoot.

On peak oil, are we to believe (and I don’t) that Dave believes—based on increasing market pressures leading to new pockets and techniques being exploited—that oil production will never crest and fall, because it hasn’t yet? Can peak oil actually be wrong in the fullness of time? Is “not yet” the same as “fundamentally wrong?” That’s the insinuation from this section, even if unintentional. In that case, it’s good news for immortality, because none of us reading this have died yet! (Return to conversation)

Devil’s Advocate

Okay, so Dave backs off the Malthus, Limits to Growth, and Peak Oil arguments by saying he’s playing a bit of devil’s advocate. Good to hear. It would have been helpful to forcefully indicate what’s wrong with those positions as part of disowning them. In any case, the rest of the paragraph is very cogent: acknowledging the primacy of ecological health, and even calling collapse “inevitable” (by mistake?), as if written in stone 🙂. (Return to conversation)

Confidence Turn-off

To Dave, the confidence of the “doomer” perspective is a red flag. This is well-motivated, to a point. If even a single one of our 8 billion had presented a credible (consensus) blueprint for how modernity can persist for even 1,000 years—in terms of materials, energy, pollution, and most importantly ecological health—it would be much harder to argue the “inevitable” demise of an unsustainable regime. But given how many arrows point to patent unsustainability in multiple domains, confidence that unsustainable fails is no vice. Without analysis, it is easy enough to speak of corrections that may be on the mild side. But how can it be possible to maintain something like modernity? Sketch it out, in credible detail! All available evidence points to rapid degradation of the ecological foundation. (Return to conversation)

Growth, or Scale?

Dave certainly understands that growth is not sustainable, and must end. That puts him ahead of 99% of economists, politicians, and other intellectuals. For that reason, I oughtn’t be too hard on him. This conversation highlights the remaining (still substantial) differences, but having more Daves (or Murphys like Dave?) would be a great start. Other names are also welcome, I suppose.

Still, this paragraph implies that once growth stops, we can be fine. Yet I would say that the sheer scale of modernity is grossly overtaxing ecological capacity in a steady draw-down, even if held steady. I had a post dedicated to the topic. This point also surfaces briefly in the seventh round. (Return to conversation)

Shared Responsibility?

While reassuring (and not surprising) to learn that Dave didn’t vote for Trump, I’m not so sure this absolves any of us from our share of the responsibility. Trump didn’t emerge from a vacuum, but from a dynamic that had myriad—often untraceable—inputs. One such factor is the perception of liberal smugness and condescension. As a university professor, surely I’ve played my part in that. Thus, I am partly responsible for the backlash. It was unwitting, no doubt, but that’s the point: almost everything we do—up to and including modernity—is unwitting! Do we refrain from punishing a kid for a costly mishap just because the kid didn’t think it all through (or wasn’t even capable of doing so)? Modernity has consequences, and roughly 8 billion people are complicit to varying degrees. It does us no good to hide from our role as ecological villains. Those very few who have refused even machetes and rubber boots have a reasonably strong case, but the rest of us own some (or a lot) of this madness, to varying degrees. (Return to conversation)

Bunker-Building Time

I should be clear that I’ve never had a bunker mentality. I’m not even especially well-prepared for the very real possibility of a major Cascadia earthquake that could disrupt services where I live for months, without warning. While I do advocate abandoning modernity, that’s only because it’s proving to be a death trap for the Earth, not because I personally want to. Given what’s at stake, it seems responsible to advocate turning away—ideally in community rather than in bunker-style isolation. It’s not about me or my wants.

Also, the implication that my stance suggests individual efforts are meaningless is a bit jarring. I have long been a champion of taking responsibility, owning your part, and changing your ways. Collectives are composed of individuals, and individual action is all that matters, in a sense. If a large swath of people individually lost faith in modernity and began seeking different ways of being on this planet, that’s a huge win. The “solution” won’t be monolithic or centralized at all, but small-group based autonomy replacing states, markets, extractivism, and power grids. I have often taken guff for advocating individual action (accused of pardoning corporations or governments), but always stuck to my guns on this point. (Return to conversation)

While Rome Burns

I was glad to see Dave echo my point that it is not for us to judge what Earth can support. Bingo! But that’s not the same at all as abdicating any role, and fiddling while Rome burns. I’m hardly a fiddler! Here I am trying to raise awareness as to the peril modernity represents to all life, and tying o get us off this treadmill. Now, if the point is that not acting to save modernity is defined as “fiddling” (i.e., “doing nothing”), then guilty as charged. But other forms of action are valid—while I would say acting to save modernity is not only futile but damaging and ultimately unethical. What better “improvement” to ecology—and thus ultimate human happiness—could we possibly devise other than dismantling modernity? It’s a big task, and a big ask! (Return to conversation)

BTW: The first invocation of musical accompaniment to disaster was in reference to playing music on the Titanic, as addressed in an earlier addendum.

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