The Upside of Collapse: Why the End of This Shitshow is the Best News You'll Get All Day
They tell you the economy is everything. The holy metric of our success. The sacred cow we must all feed, paint, and worship, even as it tramples our gardens and craps in our water supply.
Well, I’ve got a radical truth for you, straight from the upcoming book Radical Truth: The collapse of this growth-obsessed economic system isn't the end of the world. It's the end of a world. And frankly, it’s a world that was never particularly worth saving.
Think about it. What are we so desperate to preserve?
An economy that measures progress by how fast we can turn a 1,000-year-old forest into disposable IKEA furniture? A financial system that rewards sociopathic behavior and punishes basic human decency? A society where the richest man on the planet could solve world hunger with his pocket change but instead builds dick-shaped rockets to literally fuck the sky?
Come on.
Maybe—just maybe—we should stop hyperventilating about "economic collapse" and start asking what becomes possible when we're no longer shackled to this particular death march.
Our Gordian Knot of an Economy
We’ve spent decades trying to reform this system. We’ve tried carbon trading, ESG, corporate responsibility pledges—an alphabet soup of incremental fixes that have failed pathetically.
Why? Because the problem isn't fine-tuning the machinery. The problem is the machinery itself.
You can’t reform a system whose core operating principle is “infinite growth on a finite planet.” It’s not just bad economics; it’s a violation of physics. That’s why collapse isn’t just inevitable—it’s necessary. It’s the Alexander the Great solution to our Gordian Knot. We stop trying to untangle the impossible mess and cut the damn thing.
And here’s the good news they don’t want you to hear: Systemic failure is the only thing powerful enough to create the space for genuine reconstruction.
Think of a forest fire. It clears out the deadwood, releases nutrients, and cracks open seeds that can only germinate in the aftermath of fire. Our economy is choked with zombie corporations, extractive industries, and financial voodoo that should have been composted decades ago.
It needs to burn so something new can grow.
We’re Already in Collapse (You Just Have Netflix)
Now, let me be clear. When I say "collapse," I'm not talking about a Hollywood apocalypse. You won't be foraging for canned beans in the ruins next Tuesday.
Economic systems collapse like the Roman Empire did: gradually, then suddenly. A slow-motion train wreck with periods of eerie stability that increasingly fail to mask the underlying rot.
We’re already in it. We’ve been in it. It’s just that our particular flavor of collapse still includes functional grocery stores and the comforting illusion that someone, somewhere, has everything under control.
The New World is Already Being Built in the Cracks of the Old
Here’s what the doomsday preppers and the Wall Street apologists both miss: collapse isn’t an endpoint—it’s a transition.
And in that transition, the local becomes paramount. Our global supply chains are a masterpiece of complexity and a monument to vulnerability. As they falter, the ability to meet basic needs locally shifts from a hippie ideal to a critical survival skill.
And it’s already happening. Look at:
-
Detroit, where residents turned vacant lots into urban farms after the auto industry abandoned them.
-
Greece, where austerity birthed solidarity clinics and worker-owned cooperatives.
-
Puerto Rico, where government failure catalyzed community-based solar projects.
These aren't feel-good stories. They are the economic equivalent of those early mammals scurrying under the feet of dinosaurs. The dinosaurs—our massive, growth-obsessed corporations—still dominate the landscape. But their asteroid is coming. The future belongs to the adaptable, not the big.
So, What Do We Actually Do? Ditch the Delusion.
We’re offered two useless options: toxic positivity ("Buy our new carbon-neutral yoga mat!") and fatalistic doomerism ("We're screwed, so crank the AC and enjoy the show!").
Both are a con.
What we need is hope without delusion. Hope that’s grounded in a clear-eyed assessment of this mess but refuses to surrender our agency.
Practical Steps for the Pragmatic:
-
For You: Learn to grow food, fix things, and reduce debt. Not to be a lone wolf in a bunker, but to be a more resilient node in your community. The person most likely to survive a crisis isn't the one with the most beans, but the one with the strongest social network.
-
For Your Community: Map your local assets. Start a tool library, a community garden, a repair cafe. Build parallel infrastructure for food, energy, and care that isn't tied to a fragile global system.
-
For Your Career: Honestly ask: Is my work part of the problem or part of the solution? If you're propping up a dying, extractive industry, maybe it's time to jump ship before it sinks.
The Last Word
Let’s end with the radical truth: The collapse of this system is not the end of human flourishing.
For all our "progress," we've created a world of epidemic loneliness, where children know more corporate logos than native species, and where the richest 1% own more than the bottom 90%. Is this really worth saving?
The end is coming for this economy. But that end could just be our beginning. The seeds of the future—more democratic, more caring, more sane—are already sprouting in the wreckage.
The choice is ours. We can cling to the dying order, or we can get to work building what comes next.
It might just be the beginning of a world actually worth having.
Just because the current economic system is collapsing doesn't mean we're doomed. It means we're finally free to build something better. The upside of collapse is the possibility of renewal.
Thoughts? From my upcoming book, Radical Truth.
#UpsideOfCollapse #RadicalTruth #BuildTheNew #PostGrowth #CommunityResilience #NotADoomer #HopeWithoutDelusion
👉 Follow Robert Rubinstein for more
This article is inspired by the upcoming book, "Radical Truth." Thoughts? Feel free to agree, disagree, or call me names in the comments. But let’s talk about the real problem.
Read full article
|