by Robert Jensen.
We are all apocalyptic now, or at least we should be if we
are rational.
Because “apocalyptic” is typically associated with religious
fanaticism and death cults—things that rational people tend not to take
literally or seriously—this claim requires some explanation.
First, a definition: The term is most commonly used in
reference to the Book of Revelation, also known as The Apocalypse of John, the
final book of the Christian New Testament. The two terms are synonymous in
their original meaning—“revelation” from Latin and “apocalypse” from Greek both
mean a lifting of the veil, a disclosure of something that had been hidden.
Second, the formulation “we are all (fill in the blank) now”
has long been a way to assert that certain ideas have become the norm (“We are
all Keynesians now,” said Milton Friedman in 1965) or to express solidarity
(“We are all New Yorkers now,” said many non-New Yorkers after 9/11).
Rather than claiming divine inspiration, we can come to
greater clarity about the desperate state of the ecosphere and its human
inhabitants through evidence and reason. It is time for a calm, measured
apocalypticism which recognizes that the ecosphere sets norms, which we have
ignored for too long, and that we need to develop a new sense of solidarity,
among humans and with the larger living world.
So, speaking apocalyptically need not leave us stuck in a
corner with the folks predicting lakes of fire, rivers of blood, or bodies
lifted up to the heavens. Instead, it can focus our attention on ecological
realities and on the unjust and unsustainable human systems that have brought
us to this point.
This “revelation” is simple: We’ve built a world based on
the assumption that we will have endless energy to subsidize endless economic
expansion, which was supposed to magically produce justice. That world is over,
both in reality and in dreams. Either we begin to build a different world, or
there will be no world capable of sustaining a large-scale human presence.
If that’s not clear: When we take seriously what physics,
chemistry, and biology tell us about the health of the living world on which we
depend, we all should be thinking apocalyptically. Look at any crucial measure
of the ecosphere—groundwater depletion, topsoil loss, chemical contamination,
increased toxicity in our own bodies, the number and size of “dead zones” in
the oceans, accelerating extinction of species and reduction of bio-diversity,
and the ultimate game-changer of climate disruption—and ask a simple question:
Where we are heading? Scientists these days are talking about tipping points
and planetary boundaries, about how human activity is pushing the planet beyond
its limits.
If we look honestly at the state of the world it is
difficult not to conclude that we are in end times of sorts—not the end of the
physical world, but the end of the First-World way of living and the end of the
systems on which that life is based.
I know that invoking the terms “apocalypse” and “end times”
triggers many people’s experiences with arrogant religious people who preach
about deliverance fantasies. My message is not about a rapture that can be
predicted, but about ruptures in the ecological and social fabrics that are
underway and accelerating.
No matter how carefully I craft these statements—no matter
how often I deny a claim to special gifts of prognostication, no matter now
clearly I reject supernatural explanations or solutions—many people refuse to
take this analysis seriously. Some people joke about “Mr. Doom and Gloom.”
Others suggest that such talk is no different than conspiracy theorists’
ramblings about how international bankers, secret cells of communists, or
crypto-fascists are using the United Nations to create a one-world government.
Even the most measured and careful talk of the coming
dramatic change in the place of humans on Earth leads to accusations that one
is unnecessarily alarmist, probably paranoid, certainly irrelevant to serious
discussion about social and ecological issues. In the United States, people
expect talk of the future to be upbeat, based on those assumptions of endless
expansion and perpetual progress, or at least maintenance of our “way of life.”
Even those who realize the danger of such fanciful thinking are hesitant to
speak too bluntly, out of fear of seeming crazy.
A calm apocalypticism is not crazy, but rather can help us
confront honestly the crises of our time and strategize constructively about
possible responses. We can struggle to understand—to the best of our ability,
without succumbing to magical thinking—the state of the ecosphere and the
impediments to sensible action in our societies.
This struggle to understand led me to write a short polemic,
We Are All Apocalyptic Now: On the Responsibilities of Teaching, Preaching,
Reporting, Writing, and Speaking Out (in print here
and on Kindle here).
The book’s message is simple: The big systems that structure our world,
especially capitalism and the extractive economy, are incompatible with social
justice and ecological sustainability. Those who have opportunities to write
and speak out have a responsibility to articulate the radical analysis
necessary to understand the problems and begin to identify solutions.
To think apocalyptically is not to give up on ourselves, but
only to give up on the arrogant stories—religious and secular—that we modern
humans have been telling about ourselves. Our hope for a decent future—indeed,
any hope for even the idea of a future—depends on our ability to tell stories
not of how humans have ruled the world but how we can live in the world.
We are all apocalyptic now, whether we like it or not.
---------------
Robert Jensen is a professor in the School of Journalism at
the University of Texas at Austin and board member of the Third Coast Activist
Resource Center in Austin. We Are All Apocalyptic Now: On the Responsibilities
of Teaching, Preaching, Reporting, Writing, and Speaking Out is online in print here
and on Kindle here.
Jensen is also the author of Arguing for Our Lives: A User’s Guide to Constructive Dialogue (City Lights, coming in April 2013); All My Bones Shake: Seeking a Progressive Path to the Prophetic Voice, (Soft Skull Press, 2009); Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity (South End Press, 2007); The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism and White Privilege (City Lights, 2005); Citizens of the Empire: The Struggle to Claim Our Humanity (City Lights, 2004); and Writing Dissent: Taking Radical Ideas from the Margins to the Mainstream (Peter Lang, 2002). Jensen is also co-producer of the documentary film “Abe Osheroff: One Foot in the Grave, the Other Still Dancing” (Media Education Foundation, 2009), which chronicles the life and philosophy of the longtime radical activist. An extended interview Jensen conducted with Osheroff is online at http://uts.cc.utexas.edu/~rjensen/freelance/abeosheroffinterview.htm.
Jensen is also the author of Arguing for Our Lives: A User’s Guide to Constructive Dialogue (City Lights, coming in April 2013); All My Bones Shake: Seeking a Progressive Path to the Prophetic Voice, (Soft Skull Press, 2009); Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity (South End Press, 2007); The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism and White Privilege (City Lights, 2005); Citizens of the Empire: The Struggle to Claim Our Humanity (City Lights, 2004); and Writing Dissent: Taking Radical Ideas from the Margins to the Mainstream (Peter Lang, 2002). Jensen is also co-producer of the documentary film “Abe Osheroff: One Foot in the Grave, the Other Still Dancing” (Media Education Foundation, 2009), which chronicles the life and philosophy of the longtime radical activist. An extended interview Jensen conducted with Osheroff is online at http://uts.cc.utexas.edu/~rjensen/freelance/abeosheroffinterview.htm.
Jensen can be reached at rjensen@austin.utexas.edu and his articles can be found online at http://uts.cc.utexas.edu/~rjensen/index.html. To join an email list to receive articles by Jensen, go to http://www.thirdcoastactivist.org/jensenupdates-info.html. Twitter: @jensenrobertw.
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