"...I'm starting to wonder if you are pro alternative energy or alternative government, anti GMO or anti capitalism, for the people or for the people that already have everything they need… to be honest your blogs don't really mesh that well, together that is. Your "ideals" are repetitive yet somehow seem all over the place. It's baffling and exhausting. However, I did enjoy your early blogs very much though (grit and progress)… I understand your passion but you have some karmic knots my friend, that perhaps only some much needed truly disconnected meditation can untie."
-Part of a string of 17 anonymous comments from my blog on Reforestation
January is the three year anniversary of my first blog post. When I first began writing in November 2010 (I didn't post until Jan 2011) I was recovering from being run over by a motor boat in the Kaiwi Channel. It was a transformative time for me (and still is) and I wrote in order to record the journey and clarify my thoughts as we transitioned to an off-grid life. As I began building my future home I immersed myself in the writings of Henry Thoreau, Masanobu Fukuoka, Bill Mollison, and Daniel Quinn. They clarified my draw to the land, they taught me that the best lessons come from nature, and they illustrated the failures of humanity. Combined with the fuck it social perspective that a near-death experience imparts, I wrote openly (as I still try to do). With the self-satisfying moral superiority gained by my religious devotion to the concept of sustainability, I was happy and life was simple. There was a right and there was a wrong. Planting nitrogen fixing pigeon pea was right, consuming genetically modified food was wrong. The pragmatic compromise of government was sickening to me, so I focused my writing on what I could directly impact: my land.
As I've written about before, the awareness of climate change forced me to adjust my perspective. My contribution to the problem wiped away my moral superiority. I, as everyone who lives in the developed world, am the problem. Living off-grid wasn't a solution and removing myself from society was even worse. As the hypocrisy of moral judgement fell out from beneath me, I was forced to re-evaluate my entrenched positions. And my writing evolved from simple yurt building and tree planting to what it is today; a painful wade through the moral swamp land of sustainability. The journey of my thoughts are akin to the American pacifist in World War II who is suddenly aware of the horrors of the Nazi regime and who's entire life philosophy is suddenly thrown into question. The morality of abstaining from war is worse than entering the war, yet both are abhorrent. We don't have the satisfaction of choosing between good and evil, right and wrong: we have a slew of shitty options.
So, in that vein, I condemn industrial agriculture for its failures yet maintain that we need all tools to feed the world; I support genetic modification yet I practice permaculture and consume organic foods; I abstain from driving (whenever possible) to limit my carbon emissions yet I fly to O'ahu every other week for work; I write that capitalism is the cause of our problems yet I attribute its success to our explosion in productivity and resulting science, literature, and leisure time; I criticize government overreach yet advocate for stronger government authority as the sole hope in fighting climate change; I acknowledge my own privilege yet I write about the widening inequality gap; I am a hypocrite, but I'm trying. I'm not a saint or a politician, so my writing is fallible. Yes, it's a mixed bag of contradictions and I can't produce the simplified partisan themes and moral judgements that we are used to from the news and social media. The best I can do is muddle through and present my humble thoughts. Judging from the number of people that I've pissed off over the last year, not everyone wants to take that journey with me.
On that note, Happy New Year, and thank you for reading. I am deeply appreciative to everyone who follows along on my slow wade through the moral mud of sustainability.
So, in that vein, I condemn industrial agriculture for its failures yet maintain that we need all tools to feed the world; I support genetic modification yet I practice permaculture and consume organic foods; I abstain from driving (whenever possible) to limit my carbon emissions yet I fly to O'ahu every other week for work; I write that capitalism is the cause of our problems yet I attribute its success to our explosion in productivity and resulting science, literature, and leisure time; I criticize government overreach yet advocate for stronger government authority as the sole hope in fighting climate change; I acknowledge my own privilege yet I write about the widening inequality gap; I am a hypocrite, but I'm trying. I'm not a saint or a politician, so my writing is fallible. Yes, it's a mixed bag of contradictions and I can't produce the simplified partisan themes and moral judgements that we are used to from the news and social media. The best I can do is muddle through and present my humble thoughts. Judging from the number of people that I've pissed off over the last year, not everyone wants to take that journey with me.
On that note, Happy New Year, and thank you for reading. I am deeply appreciative to everyone who follows along on my slow wade through the moral mud of sustainability.
Life is deeply and densely complicated.
ReplyDeleteChoices have consequences and risks.
To be a pacifist means you choose not to confront injustice in a violent way, and that may extend the suffering of others.
If you oppose a renewable energy project, you bear some responsibility for carbon production.
If you choose to till the ground, you harm the forms of life that inhabited the untilled ground.
It's the human condition to seek a consistent, simple philosophy; doesn't mean you'll find it. And perhaps you shouldn't find it, if that keeps you searching.
Very deep and well-parsed, Jan T!
ReplyDeleteAnd that's why I like your writing, too, Luke. I enjoy following your process of exploring these complex issues and contradictory dynamics because it encourages my own reflection. Try to ignore the anonymous detractors/critics and write to satisfy yourself!
life is simple and sweet.
ReplyDeleteneither hypocrite nor wallowed in mud,
loam is the medium in which you investigate,
and with it you can do wondrous things:
build bricks for walls, plant gardens,
or smear it lovingly over your whole body
and when you do, ahhhhh
misperceived complexities dissolve and wash away
overly big brain: stfu!
if folks can't take a joke - sure, fuckem
but don't ever just write to your satisfaction
words are power.
words are life and death.
make them matter.
happy 2,000 X V!
I disagree. Words are not life and death in this case. We are talking about one persons thoughts, reflections, experiences.. Luke, your posts are insightful and thoughtful -which is why we appreciate them. Life (like the issues we face on Kauai) is not always black and white. It's often complicated and it seems like the more we learn, the more it becomes. That shouldn't discourage us all from learning more, participating in constructive dialogue and trying to finding solutions. Sometimes our beliefs end up evolving in the process.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jan, Joan, Jonathan, and anonymous (please, anonymous 9:05, tell me that your name starts with a J??) for your thoughts and comments.
ReplyDeleteI also want to clarify that I do appreciate feedback, both positive and negative. I like the dialogue and I think it's important to call people out when they're wrong-- so if anyone disagrees with me or has info that I don't have, please don't hesitate to say so. The purpose of this blog post wasn't to argue with an anonymous commentator, it was just an admission of my own fallibility and the tenuousness and inherent contradictions of most of my strongly held opinions.
And Joan, while I've learned a lot from your blog, possibly the best lesson is that anonymity in the blogosphere can be depressingly vitriolic, and the only way to keep writing is to ignore the worst of it.