The plume of oil reflects our obsession with scarcity
The Black Plume rises from the ocean floor in grim, silent opposition to our beliefs that we need ever more energy, possessions, and control.
U.S. Coast Guard/via Wikimedia Commons
The Black Plume spirals forth beneath the oceans of the Gulf of Mexico. We would rather not think about it but we do. We do and we must. This Black Plume is both fact and symbol. The sad, scary factual reporting goes on day by day. But what kind of symbol is it or shall it become for us?
To put it another way, what message does this Black Plume have for us?
Some meanings are clear. For one, it symbolizes a god that failed: technology. The various technical solutions have so far failed, not only frustrating engineers and politicians, but belying a faith that technology will finally save us. It will not. We are approaching the point, already past it, when it is not enough to change our techniques; we must change our lives.
It is also clear that the Black Plume signifies a poisoning of the earth as yet beyond our capacity to grasp or comprehend. Particularly, it poisons the ecosystem of the Gulf and all that depends upon its timeless rhythms, whether migratory birds, sea creatures great and small, fish, and the human beings dependent upon harvesting the seafood for their living. In all likelihood, it will destroy a way of life and culture among Gulf residents that is generations old.
The Black Plume seems, as well, curiously linked to the Wall Street debacle and recession. After 30 years of "the government is the problem" ideology, we should not be surprised that no respected or adequately resourced arm of government is effectively watching over the corporations.
Are there other meanings, symbolic resonances of the no-longer-televised dark cyclone of oil surging forth day by day, hour by hour?
It is striking that this precious resource, "black gold," flows now so wantonly, so wastefully, so prolifically. Think of the lives that have been sacrificed over decades now to gain oil. Think of the armies mobilized and governments overthrown to control oil. And there it is, spewing forth, both mocking and rebuking our acquisitiveness.
Note the terms used to describe the Deepwater Horizon disaster. We hear of the number of "barrels" of oil flowing into the Gulf in an hour or a day. It is an "oil spill." The terms suggest control. This is a resource we may, occasionally, spill. It can be comprehended in barrel amounts. It can be "barreled," and contained. It is reducible to the logic of production and consumption, of warehouses and stockpiles.
For a long time now, the dominant narrative at work in our culture has been a narrative of scarcity. Despite our great affluence, there's never enough.
We must get more, do more, have more. We must build up our stocks and piles, fill our warehouses and supply bins. Yet this narrative has not made us safe. It has not made us secure.
Quite the opposite: our narrative of scarcity, constantly rehearsed, has made us anxious and fearful and selfish. Human bonds have been sacrificed to gain stuff, but the stuff cannot save us.
The narrative of scarcity is a narrative of control. It tells us that we must capture and control. But the swirling, wanton, wasteful Black Plume mocks us. What we have killed and died for gushes away. We aren’t in control. The earth is beyond our control. We are not here, on earth, as owners. We are guests. The awful Black Plume speaks of the limits of our control, the limits of our power.
There is another narrative possibility besides the narrative of scarcity. There is another way of construing the world. There is a narrative of abundance. Not the abundance of mega-retailers with their array of countless consumer products and items, many petroleum-based. Nor should this be construed to mean that I imagine there is an unending oil supply. There is not.
But if a dominant narrative of scarcity drives us to anxiety, fear, and isolation, the alternative narrative of abundance is the ground of the trust and the basis of a concern for a common good that is our only real hope.
Nature itself often suggests to us the true abundance of life. That abundance is evident in the thousands of seeds sown heedlessly by the poppy, the dandelion, and sunflower. This abundance is manifest in a glorious sunrise or beautiful sunset, either of which we may behold, neither of which may we hold, possess, or control. The abundance of a meal freely shared with others or the abundance of a child's laughter. Life construed from abundance rather than scarcity makes community possible, makes concern for neighbors possible. Such is the path to our proper security.
So this Black Plume is more than technological problem or failure, more even than ecological disaster, more too than a sign of appropriate government roles discredited and undermined. It speaks of a failed dominant narrative. It is sign and symbol that life cannot be reduced to barreled quantities, to the calculus of production and consumption, to a narrative of scarcity. It tells us that this system and narrative are neither life-giving nor life-sustaining. As such, it is a veiled invitation to embrace an alternative narrative: a narrative of abundance not scarcity, and of a good that is common and shared, not private and controlled.
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Comments:
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 7:43 a.m. Inappropriate
A couple of decades before the end of the whale oil era (when whale oil was the the oil that the world read by), a whale attacked and sank the Essex, a whaling ship working alone, thousands of miles from land in the Pacific. That gave rise to the tale of Moby Dick, and was also the harbinger of the end of a headlong lust for whale oil, a lust that killed hundreds of sailors and decimated the whale populations of the entire planet.
Deepwater Horizon is the modern parallel: an unthinkable challenge to the concept that we can control nature and avoid the impacts of our technology as we satisfy our lust for cheap energy.
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 8:43 a.m. Inappropriate
Good piece. I agree with a lot of what you are saying but I think you use the term "poisoning" and that seems, to me at least, an exaggeration. The oil is coming out of the earth in a way similar (so far at a smaller scale) to the eruption of molten lava from Mt. St. Helens. The common perception of these two events tends to support the point you make but both events are often described in terms of economic loss.
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 9:54 a.m. Inappropriate
"(I)t symbolizes a god that failed: technology."
I think it symbolizes a specific technology god that failed: fossil fuels. They are supposed to be cheaper than renewables, but look at the cost.
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 1:55 p.m. Inappropriate
I would love to participate in an open-ended, face-to-face discussion amongst truly thoughtful people about the points raised by Rev. Robinson because I believe he attempts to address the very issues that will determine whether our present-day failures as a species become the terminal species failure toward which we are so rapidly accelerating.
While I commend Rev. Robinson for his courageous effort, I believe what he labels "obsession with scarcity" is actually abject terror of death – a terror infinitely worsened by the divine sadism unique to Judaism, Christianity and Islam: the threat of eternal damnation, which scars the subconscious with unspeakable horror and thereby cripples even those of us who later reject it as absurd.
Rev. Robinson also makes one all-important error: he defines technology as "a god that failed" rather than acknowledge what technology actually has become: one of the suicidal rituals by which that failed god is worshiped.
The failed god himself is of course Yehveh/Jesu/Allah – I like to think of him as YeSuAh (pun intended) – whose core principles are male supremacy and the relentless subjugation of woman, nature and non-believers.
It is this god's limitless eternal malevolence that goaded the Hebrews into their periodic outbreaks of theocratic genocide in the Old Testament Middle East and then, in hybrid Christo-Islamic form, spawned literally all of the aberrations of post-Roman humanity: the Islamic invasions of Europe, the subsequent Crusades and hence eventually the present-day crisis in the Middle East; the Inquisition; the witch burnings; divine-right monarchy; imperialism; the methodical extermination of First Nations peoples; fascism; the Holocaust (Hitler proclaimed Jesus his personal “lord and savior”); finally capitalism – the ultimate expression of the doctrines implicit in Genesis: the something-from-nothing mode of alleged “creation” that makes Nature and woman irrelevant; the political model in which the ubermenschen are the infallible instruments of god – the Ruling Class sent to inflict divine punishment on the ungodly (invariably those of us in the Working Class or Native populations).
And let us not forget the executive bonus for ubermenschen tyranny: unlimited wealth as divine reward, hence by logical extension the quintessence of capitalist dogma: infinite greed as ultimate virtue; maximum selfishness as greatest good. Thus finally the psychodynamic equation few dare say aloud: If God is Good and Greed is Good then God is Greed and Greed is God.
Rev. Robinson overlooks too the historical fact technology was values-neutral until YeSuAh made it his sacrament.
Indeed technology may even once have been values-positive – as in the construction of Stonehenge to clock the cosmos its builders viewed as alive, conscious, self-regulating – the physical body of the Great Goddess hailed also as the divine womb: to paraphrase Genesis in scientifically correct poetics, "In the beginning was the Mother and she gave birth."
Such was surely the vision that sustained Knossos – more appropriately Glorious Knossos – for the thousand years the city prevailed before it was destroyed by volcanism c. 1600 BCE. Because Knossos had neither slums nor mansions – because it was a place where everyone lived reasonably well – many archaeologists now privately believe it represents the true apex of human civilization.
No, I am not a practicing Pagan nor any other sort of “New Age” cultist; I am in fact a devout agnostic, to such an extent I regard eschatology as formalized dementia – expressions of the final madness into which we all lapse when faced with the awful reality that death is for each of us the end of everything.
But after spending a lifetime as a working artist I surely recognize the psychosocial differences – the deeds and institutions fostered by the innate psycholinguistics – between societies founded on the goddess-principles of reverence for woman and nature (and sexuality as sacramental connection to the divine) versus the societies of today founded on the godly tyrannies of trinket materialism derived from greed mandated by divine hatred of woman/sex, nature and ultimately life itself. God as Good as Greed as Greed's Defense as Thermonuclear Weaponry as God – indeed The Bomb in God's exact Obedience-or-Death (biblical) image: "I am the Lord thy Bomb thou shalt have no other Bombs before me."
Quoth a Cheyenne Ghost-Dance song: The white man's god has forsaken him; let us go and look for our Mother.
As to the darkness murdering our oceans, it is the ultimate proof ideas have consequences, the consummate image of YeSuAh unleashed.
The name of its origin is possessed of eerie aptness: Deep Horizon, with its dread echo of Event Horizon – by definition the ever-spreading edge of a black hole, the time-space perimeter from which not even light itself can escape.
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 2:01 p.m. Inappropriate
I think another way of describing this tragedy is that it symbolizes our greed, hubris, and desperation.
Companies, agencies, politicians, and consumers (us) have been willing to put our natural systems -- the very foundation of our economies and our cultures -- at risk in the name of cheap access to resources. Once again we are paying the piper for such carelessness. And I do mean 'we.'
There's no easy way forward for us, but if we don't try, we're sunk. There are things we can do individually and collectively, and I hope we pursue them robustly so that future generations do not have to live in a drab, inhospitable, lifeless planet.
Joe
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 7:06 p.m. Inappropriate
loren,
I was just going to compliment the Rev. on his finest piece of crosscut writing so far. On its own, and because he holds humans responsible, generally leaving out greater powers. For those who don't like to be included in broad-brushes, they can focus on those continuing to entice the rest of the world to take out mortgages in order to addict themselves and their nations to our "way of life."
The Seattle City Council held a noon forum two months ago (video online) on becoming Carbon Neutral. The word "consumption" was mentioned once in the whole long-winded affair. The "c" word came as an after-thought in response to an audience question. The other "bright" spot was CM Licata's question about the urbanizing planet of slums— actually two different worlds in juxtaposition, one exclusive, one swelling at the assumed top rate {20 years out) of one city the size of Seattle very other day (per a panelist who did not go into the details, other than women did not really want all those kids).
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 10:14 p.m. Inappropriate
I agree with afreeman that this is one of Robinson's finest pieces. The good Reverend has captured the logic of a catastrophe and laid that logic squarely on the doorstep of the rising American middle class and its need for excessive amounts of consumer goods. I also agree with lorenbliss that in reaching for a "we" and an "us" Robinson has missed some distinctions that need to be captured (though I don't agree with her/his fundamentalist assumption that what is described in the Bible is historical fact). Religion has, at times, participated in the mobilization of greed (see Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism). But Judaism, for example, has severe moral constraints against the acquisition of wealth to the detriment of the community. I suspect that Christianity and Islam have the same. I am aware that these constraints have been egregiously violated at times (e.g., Madoff) but it might be important to acknowledge that consumption per se or greed are not condoned or promoted (with some exceptions) by the religions lorenbliss assails. Indeed, it has often been the religions (Jewish "tzedakah" (justice/charity), Christian "charity," and Islamic relief agencies, and Buddhist forms of charity) and others that have come to the aid of the most vulnerable.
Robinson's analysis of scarcity and abundance helps here, but we will also have to account for the fact that successfully sustaining the population leads to growing the population leads to a need for "more." I want to acquire wealth and goods to pass along to my children, not because I especially need more stuff. I find it hard to imagine myself saying: "Sorry, kids, I brought you into this world but I can't provide any security or assistance or cushion--you're on your own to survive." True, this logic is exploited by greedy advertisers and businesses, but that doesn't negate the logic itself.
Anyway, thanks for a provocative and important piece, Mr. Robinson.
Posted Fri, Jun 11, 10:52 p.m. Inappropriate
Afreeman...I was not being in the least bit sarcastic in my commendation of Rev. Robinson for his effort, but I likewise saw no reason to withhold my own perspective on the theological source of our troubles.
I suppose if I were to reduce my argument to a single sentence it would be to repeat something I have said more times than I can count: that not only do ideas have consequences; that the ideas called religion -- cultural symbiosis of belief and practice – typically have more consequences than any other.
The corollary would be that collectively we can never be better than the core truths of our values -- even when, like the doctrines of YeSuAh (the core truth of which is demonstrated by the horrors of its genocidal and ecocidal histories), they are imposed on us from above with a theocratic forcefulness that becomes ever more undeniable.
Meanwhile the blackness of the oil that has now killed the Gulf of Mexico and may yet poison all the oceans of the planet truly is the ultimate image of God -- not some god but the very specific, nature-hating YeSuAh God of Judaism, Christianity, Islam and most of all capitalism.
That the Ruling Class refuses to address the issue of "consumption" is thus utterly predictable: to reduce consumption is not only to reduce the obscene profits generated thereby; it is also to reduce the extent to which Moron Nation is opiated to submission by trinket materialism.
Your disgust with this refusal -- palpable in your comment above -- is entirely appropriate: any discussion of carbon neutrality or societal sustainability that does not address the need for radically reduced consumption is nothing more than a charade -- an especially vile charade given that every such avoidance edges us that much closer to terminal species failure.
The connection between consumption and our emerging planet of slums -- more appropriately a planet of slave-pens -- is the Ponzi-scheme of capitalism: the Ruling Class knows exactly what is coming and is hoarding wealth and resources accordingly; our Moron Nation consumption is a dual-purpose mechanism of that process: profit for the aristocracy, sedation for its victims.
No doubt when the forces of terminal climate change and petroleum bankruptcy reach their apex, the Ruling Class will begin eating the poor: Soylent Green is not just fantasy; it is also prophecy. Indeed it is prophecy spoken by the underground press of the 1960s (Trashman) long before Hollywood took it up.
People fear giving up consumption because without the distractions of trinket materialism, they will have to face themselves, their world and its Soylent Green direction.
I have no such fear not because I am somehow enlightened -- I am most assuredly not enlightened (especially not in the Zen sense) -- but because disaster long ago stripped me bare of all save essentials.
The fire in 1983 that obliterated all my work -- a fire that was almost certainly arson -- also burned away all my identity and all my hope, and its clinical-depression aftermath not only destroyed me professionally but condemned me to live the rest of my life in a poverty so deep and inescapable the few Americans who can imagine it live (as I do) in ghettos and reservations – imprisoned in the isolation reserved for those of us capitalism has discarded (and will eventually exterminate) because we are no longer exploitable for Ruling Class profit.
To be so transformed was unspeakably painful -- the kind of involuntary conversion to radically shrunken expectation every one of us will have to endure if we are to build a sustainable society. But I have no doubt it made me stronger, and for that I am forever grateful -- especially now amidst the combined tribulations of old age, disability and a Ruling Class actively conspiring to destroy the Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid upon which we elderly and disabled people are dependent.
Nor is mine by any means a unique experience. The entire Cuban nation went through something akin to it when the collapse of the Soviet Union cut off the Cubans' supply of fossil fuels. If you do not know of this hugely promising example, here is an introductory link: http://old.globalpublicmedia.com/the_power_of_community_how_cuba_survived_peak_oil
Meanwhile (and though I disagree vehemently with his theology), at least Rev. Robinson has the courage to have begun this discussion which -- as I said -- I would dearly love to see continue.
Posted Sat, Jun 12, 1:39 p.m. Inappropriate
This guy filed articles from Hawaii, Australia, and New Zealand this year alone. He travels more miles than the average American meal. Who's this guy lecturing about the evils of oil? And who the hell's this we?
Posted Sat, Jun 12, 6:04 p.m. Inappropriate
Interesting how we term anything deemed "evil" as black. Also interesting how we claim that technology has failed. We've failed to use that technology properly. In this particular case, BP chose to use the cheapest method of originally capping their wells, and also chose to ignore the signs of trouble that were pointed out to them only days before this mess started.
Are we willing to leave all oil in the earth (where it is not poisonous) and not simply cut down on our use but COMPLETELY STOP all use of oil in any kind of products (which of course would mean that Mr. Robinson would quit flying all over the world)? No? Then our only option is to use technology properly no matter how much it costs, which means that all countries must immediately clamp tight regulations on corporations doing business within their territorial waters and their land to ensure the proper use of technology.
Otherwise, this will continue happening, no matter how many religionist pilpul is thundered from pulpits and blogs.
Mr. Bliss, you should talk to some local homeless people before you proclaim that few Americans can imagine such poverty as you've experienced. At last count (on January 25, 2010, to be precise), there were nearly 3,000 people living on the streets, without any shelter, in King County.
Posted Sat, Jun 12, 8:18 p.m. Inappropriate
FlyintheOintment: your lack of reference makes it impossible for readers to ascertain the identity of your target, which I rather doubt is an accident. Hence for the record let me state I have been in Hawaii only once in my life, this when a Korea-bound troopship, the U.S.S. Mann, put in at Pearl for emergency repairs in '61, and all U.S. Army personnel got 10 hours shore leave. I have never been in Australia or New Zeland, I have not been aboard an aircraft since 1984, and except for a brief rental-car tour of the North Cascades funded by a relative in 2008, poverty has not allowed me out of Tacoma since 2004, and not out of Washington state since 1987.
Sarah: your rebuke is misplaced. The reality reflected in what I said is that only the very few Americans who have truly experienced real poverty -- and of course I would include homeless people in this category -- can understand what it is like, much less comprehend its associated hopelessness and isolation. This is a lesson I learned firsthand: I spent a substantial part of my 30-year journalism career writing about poverty and photographically documenting it as well, including extensive work for the free clinic program of New York City's Beth Israel Hospital. But the knowledge so gained -- which was at least the equivalent of a graduate degree in sociology -- was utterly worthless when I myself was reduced to real poverty.
Indeed -- if you truly cared about the people whose plight you seem to brandish as if it were a banner -- you would speak out against capitalism, the savagery under which the disaster of abject poverty (like the disasters of Bhopal, Exxon Valdez and Deep Horizon), is merely another murderously toxic byproduct of infinite greed and obscene profit.
Posted Sun, Jun 13, 11:29 a.m. Inappropriate
Since its the good reverend who charcteristicly coordinates his articles, and his jet-set lifestyle, the reference strikes me as fairly clear. Of course, there are time tested methods to determine reference: if the shoe fits, wear it.
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