The Extinction Event is our Home, Let us Be Grateful
Almost daily they publish such articles as: “Can We Save the Arabian Leopard?” or, “What Must Be Done to Halt the Imminent Extinction of the Vaquita?”
On seeing the unsettling titles of those articles, my blood picks up speed; I grow angry and afraid. The article which you are presently reading is intended to be an antidote to those— for I do not believe that I alone suffer under the burden of all these panicked headlines. The antidote to every one of these articles (as you, too, have surely felt already in the pit of your stomach), is: No! Nothing! There is Nothing to be done!
The idea that we could somehow lessen or prevent the inexorable extinction of species presupposes that we might escape our own Naturalness. It is a thought most fascinatingly ignored, in almost every sphere of existence, that we are Nature. Any action that a species or an individual may take, is a Natural Phenomenon, and there are extremely few Human activities which do not have their precedent elsewhere in the animal kingdom. Slavery, for instance, is a natural phenomenon. Ants have been doing it far longer than Men, and shall continue to do so until the sun abandons the earth. Building complex structures; murder; toying with one's prey; infanticide; rape; décor; music; these are not, as it turns out, Human activities—these are Nature’s various and variously contemptible pastimes.
We may thus presume, that if by some miracle a sparrow woke one morning in a man’s body, somewhere in Florida, say, he would have a quick look around, and purchase a jet-ski. If you placed a chipmunk in a man’s body, anywhere in America, he would hoard and waste as much food as anyone, and shoot rifles on his acreage. Neither the sparrow nor the chipmunk would have any concern whatsoever, except his own joy and well-being, and perhaps that of his loved ones. This is inevitable. If it is more beneficial to the lives of those individuals with any say in the matter, to eliminate every Sea Turtle, Vaquita, and Greenland Whale from the earth’s oceans once and for all, then, as if by a law of Nature, it must be done.
Let us speak even more boldly. If you would save the planet— if you would end this unquestionably pernicious human influence upon the climate— you would need simply to eliminate a large swathe of Humanity. A great war between China and the United States could do much toward this end; if you put every American and every Chinese person to the sword, 45% of carbon dioxide emissions would be eliminated instantly along with them. Only, you can imagine, their places would be filled within a generation by the desperate, migratory poor of all the world, and likely these would reproduce prodigiously. However many mouths Humanity is capable of feeding, our species must produce and uphold some constant miserable surplus of at least ten percent. This is the state of all species in Nature.
In short, we cannot prevent the Disaster, nor the elimination of perhaps a majority of the species upon the planet by our own power, unless we are willing to artificially keep down human numbers by means of, I suppose, death camps; an idea most of us cannot stomach (and, hopefully, we never can). Salvation cannot and will not be accomplished by direct, human-organized, climate-related effort. We are merely waiting for the Efficient Cause to save us from ourselves; the falling birth rates, famines, natural disasters, pests, plagues, wars—they are heaped up at our door, and we will soon be compelled to let them save the Earth's species.
But I am so tired of worrying about the endangered species! It is a perpetually enervating exercise, to oppose oneself to the climate disaster which is coming. I would prefer to love the apocalypse. How shall we calibrate our minds, so that, rather than undergo this continual uneasiness, we might simply bid a grateful farewell to the miraculous creatures which once populated the planet, and which never shall again? I might suggest three thought experiments.
1. To begin with, we might remind ourselves that, after a widespread extermination of living creatures, there is fertile, spacious existence, ripe for innovation, as far as you can see or imagine. It has happened to the earth more than a few times, and we ourselves exist as human beings precisely as a result of the numerous past extinction events. There will be new forms, new species, absolutely new creatures! It's impossible to know just which animal is waiting for this apocalypse, to finally take its place on the center stage of earth, but it is surely more beautiful than anything we can imagine. If you had been among the dinosaurs, and seen the meteor coming, and understood that it meant the end of all your dinosaur-kind, you would have been quite miserable, for you would have been utterly blind to the possibility (or necessity) of Man, the most fascinating work of Nature yet. If it is possible for our little monkey ancestors to come down from the trees, in the absence of effective predators, and over a long period of time teach themselves to fly machines, and make nuclear bombs, then it is not absurd to hypothesize, for instance, some octopuses developing a language of signs, and civilizing underwater; or of progressing into amphibianism, and colonizing the land, in the absence of Man. Of course, Man might survive perfectly well; but we might have returned to an indigenous state, or saved ourselves underground, or underwater, etc.
2. We might also recall that we are not Humanity, but only: humans. When I pause and closely consider, I realize: I have no personal interest in ensuring that my species endures. I should certainly prefer it, preferring above all else in existence the Human Being (as the Sparrow prefers the Sparrow above all), but I shall be dead. I shall be absolutely dead; and what form the world takes once I am absolutely dead has no bearing upon me any longer. If you are reading this article, then you have attained to adulthood, and learned to read, which is far more than can justly be demanded of life, compared with all of history. If you had to perish today, still you ought to find it in yourself to be grateful.
3. Lastly, I find it to be a very therapeutic measure, to say inwardly: Eliminate the species! More harmful emissions! Melt the ice caps! More natural disaster! —That is, I find immediate relief in taking a certain, pro-apocalyptic attitude. If we must sire an apocalypse, let it at least come sooner; the sooner then will the planet correct itself, and bury every unsightly trace of industry, and develop brand new animal forms, more fascinating than anything yet. Plus, I would like to see it; I would of course have preferred to see the other side, but if I must live on this side the apocalypse, let me at least experience the first horrors of it, and not this idiotic waiting, reading stupid articles. I shall consider myself cursed, if I die without seeing it.
The extinction event is our home; then let us be grateful for it. If we survive, wonderful—we will build a far better and more considered world. If we do not survive, fine—new species will flourish, and perhaps, in a hundred million years, will unearth the scanty relics of our former civilization. If nothing survives,—well!—how peaceful that will be! Like shutting out the light!
