By Jay - Ottawa
Stiff fingers tap out the first sentence on my keyboard, but
the spell checker redlines the word 'dystopia.' Hmm…it IS a word and I DID spell it correctly. Was the Microsoft programmer who worked
on this feature clueless about Orwell's "1984," or was the programmer
directed to send unpleasant concepts and their exemplars down the memory hole?
Cormac McCarthy is the next to get redlined. Well, OK. His first name is rare this side of Dublin. Despite the laurels placed on
McCarthy's brow late in life, few people other than English majors read his troubling novels
"Blood Meridian" and "The Road."
Actually, "The Road" is not dystopian literature. It is more often categorized as
post-apocalyptic realism, a giant step beyond dystopia to where the entire globe has been despoiled. You might, if you
behave, be allowed an ice-cream sundae in a dystopia. The best you can hope for in a post-apocalyptic world is rancid ice
cream under stale whipped cream and a rotting cherry on top.
Chris Hedges, a very serious man, also writes about
dystopias but under the category of nonfiction. He describes realities so dismal and hopeless you wish they
were fiction.
As if we didn't have enough gloom from the Dark School of fiction
and nonfiction, we now discover their disciples multiplying like bats out of a
cave. The newest dystopian writers obtain better material just by looking around.
The latest dark spirit to connect the available dots of politics, economics, climate
change and human nature is a French philosopher, Bruno Latour.
Latour writes as though he was able to plumb the minds of
the super rich. Forget their
supposed attraction to capitalism and avarice. Something else is afoot, a plot, an altruistic conspiracy. It goes like this. Billions of people are accustomed to a
standard of living the globe cannot support. Recycling and cutbacks in carbon use are absurdist diversions
for the masses. The Greens are
kidding themselves, not to mention the rest of us, with their solar panels and
low-flush toilets. The Paris
Agreement of last year, signed by 195 nations, is an empty gesture to assure
their populations that something is being done to push climate change out of sight. However, the elites know better; the globe is long past the tipping point of climate apocalypse.
Something several orders more severe than alternate energy
development is needed, and immediately, to pull back hard from the Sixth Extinction. The elites are fully aware of the stakes. They also know that the billions
of people who make up the modern world cannot be encouraged, or even forced, to
scale down sharply to a lifestyle from the Middle Ages.
What's the alternative for elites who appreciate these facts and exercise power? It is twofold: to become billionaires and to head for the hills after amassing everything needed for survival. Big money––not asceticism, virtue and
fairness for all––will buy the few tickets available for survival of the few. Here's Latour explaining why we must have deregulation, welfare cutbacks, climate denial and income disparity:
"If this plausible fiction is correct, it enables us to
grasp the 'deregulation' and the 'dismantling of the welfare state' of the
1980s, the 'climate change denial' of the 2000s, and, above all, the dizzying
increase in inequality over the past forty years. All these things are part of the same phenomenon: the elites
were so thoroughly enlightened that they realized there would be no future for
the world and that they needed to get rid of all the burdens of solidarity as
fast as possible …; to construct a kind of golden fortress for the tiny percent
of people who would manage to get on in life …; and, to hide the crass
selfishness of this flight from the common world, to completely deny the
existence of the threat [of] climate change."
It is we, the billions of nobodies, who are the grasshoppers
in Aesop's fable. We plague the earth with our great numbers and boundless appetites. The monied elites are the farsighted ants. There is a noble purpose behind the surface chaos over which they preside. For the sake of the human gene pool, lifeboat ethics must prevail. The elites are laboring to cull our species as efficiently as possible. They must act fast and remain steadfast in their purpose. Ultimately, the preservation of humanity depends on
the billionaires, "the tiny percent," in their "golden fortresses."
Think of that next time you are tempted by selfishness to protest
against their deconstruction of society as we know it.
* Those of you under 70 years of age are advised not to read
this essay.