One of the Last Outposts

The premise of World Made by Hand, James Kunstler’s new book, is apocalyptic. For a variety of reasons related to Peak Oil and economic collapse, American civilization simply broke down. The wheels just fell off. The economy collapsed. Commerce broke down. The entire social construct of over 200 years vanished.

The small, 19th Century town of Union Grove, New York was a lost backwater during the buildout of modern American suburbia. But in post-Peak Oil America, Union Grove became one of the last remaining outposts of some small measure of stability. But what sort of stability?

In Kunstler’s vision, Union Grove is a futuristic, yet in many respects colonial, frontier society. But Union Grove is no Fort Apache. Indeed Union Grove is isolated, and that is its saving feature. It is so small that few bother to go there. Like Ireland during the Dark Ages, it is too remote and isolated for the barbarians to want to conquer. And that suits the locals just fine.

The contact between Union Grove and the outside world comes through the occasional traveler, or via water-borne commerce down the Hudson River with the city of Albany — or what’s left of it, which makes for a scary couple of chapters.

And what is left of civil society in Union Grove is a ragtag group of citizens who barter with each other over goods they’ve ransacked from the ruins and landfills of 20th Century America. People live in utter simplicity, farming as best they can and living off the land.

A New Form of Social Construct

But life in Union Grove is far from primitive. There are houses with fairly tight roofs. There are brick ovens and fresh-baked bread. There is a small-scale hydropower system that both channels running water and delivers a modicum of electricity. There’s a sawmill, and metal-forging operation. And there is a modest-scale farming, dairy and poultry operation staffed by a new sort of laboring class that resembles serfs of old.

Serfs? Kunstler offers a quick summary of social regression in a low-energy community:

“All the (Union Grove) trustees were men, no women and no plain laborers. As the world changed, we reverted to social divisions that we’d thought were obsolete. The egalitarian pretenses of the high-octane decades had dissolved and nobody even debated it anymore, including the women of our town. A plain majority of the townspeople were laborers now, whatever in life they had been before. Nobody called them peasants, but in effect that’s what they’d become. That’s just the way things were.”

Indeed, in previous days there were ample amounts of cheap energy. Cheap energy was, both literally and figuratively, a great force for social mobility, and political harmony. And over time the social-enabling process of cheap energy became second-nature. Using energy released by ancient deposits of coal and oil, the U.S. built much of its 20th Century social construct.

But in World Made by Hand, Kunstler asks us to reconsider the entire concept of our social arrangement in the vanishing light of a low-energy existence. There is no “Americans with Disabilities Act” in Union Grove. Indeed, most Americans with disabilities have died off.

The new world is hard, if not harsh. The old world of niceness has vanished. The society that has taken its place offers a living example that is reminiscent of the Old Testament.

The implications of this can shock the unprepared mind. But don’t blame Kunstler, who merely poses the questions and invites the reader to extrapolate the answers.

The Aesthetic Sense

Kunstler explores another key issue of post-Peak Oil modernity as well. Can people recover a sense of aesthetics in the low-energy world of the future? In Kunstler’s book, Union Grove is cut-off from its larger past, as both part of a great nation and as part of a mass-culture.

In the new world, Union Grove is not subject to any outside dictates of contemporary standards — whatever those may be. So any aesthetic sense now has to come from within. In other words the days of the mass-culture, of aesthetics being handed-down and blessed — if not jammed down one’s throat — by the likes of Oprah or Martha Stewart (let alone the architects on retainer with McDonalds or Midas Muffler) are over.

The simple lawn of Kunstler’s narrator Robert, for example, is a raised-bed garden. Yet it may as well have been designed by Palladio, if not the ancient Imhotep. “It was geometrical, a cruciform pattern, the beds transected on the diagonal as well, with brick paths carefully laid. With our many material privations, it was not possible to live without beauty anymore.”

The Personal Life — the Pursuit of Happiness

In Kunstler’s Union Grove, life is local. It has to be. And for this reason alone, people actually know how to party. They get together for local festivals, at which people eat real barbecue — something of a rarity and delicacy in a low-energy society.

Lacking the boom-boom tools of sound amplification, old-fashioned folk music emanates from simple instruments and sincere voices. People get drunk, smoke pot (cannabis plant grows wild) and make eyes at each other — all of which leads to some interesting hookups in a world where people are a diminishing and endangered species.

And in Union Grove there is even intellectual opportunity. There are books to read, although a limited selection of titles. In one short scene, for example (and Kunstler at his best in his use of micro-detail) the narrator ponders the meaning of Inside the Third Reich by Albert Speer, architect and Minister of Armaments under Adolph Hitler. Really. Kunstler chose to highlight Albert Speer, of all people. It’s brilliant.

Things Can Get Worse — and They Do

At the end of the world, though, things can still get worse. A fundamentalist sect rolls into Union Grove and begins to assert a creeping, if not creepy, sort of control. In one instance, the sect members confront townspeople on the street and force them to cut their shaggy beards. It’s sort of a post-Peak Oil version of the modern PETA activists hurling blood-balloons at people who wear fur coats.

Yet the religious sect offers an angle to Kunstler’s story that is nothing if not intriguing. Most of the sect members are decent folk with important mechanical skills. And some are warriors. That is, some former soldiers are tough-as-nails and well-worth having on your side in a fight. And Kunstler’s narrator Robert gets into a fight or two in this book.

On a higher plane, Kunstler has devised a scene that is just astonishing. It actually leaves the reader wondering if God has truly channeled divine powers through one sect-member in particular. You’ll have to read the book and make your own call on that one.

A Fall from a Great Height, if Not from Greatness

Let’s stop right here. Kunstler’s book was published in March, when oil was selling near $100 per barrel. Now a few months later oil is well over $145 per barrel.

What a difference four months and $45 dollars makes. High cost oil burners are already confronting disaster. Airlines are crashing financially, and we are on the way to “Silent Spring” by next year. Trucking is breaking down under the strain of $5 diesel, while American motorists are going broke with gasoline over $4 per gallon.

So since Kunstler’s book hit the shelves, we are further away from the past we know. And we will probably never go back. And we are much closer to a future that is yet unknown. Sad to say, we may arrive there sooner than we expect.

All of which is why World Made by Hand is an important book, as well as a pleasure to read. Kunstler’s book is thoughtful. And it will push you to the edge of your comfort zone. The book is harsh, without being nightmarish. It is cautionary, without being overly judgmental. And Kunstler’s book even offers glimmers of hope.

Kunstler’s writing style is careful, in a way that is reminiscent of fine work of F. Scott Fitzgerald. No, World Made by Hand is not exactly The Great Gatsby. But like Fitzgerald, Kunstler tells a summer tale and writes with grace, elegance and astonishing attention to detail.

Through it all, as with the protagonist Nick in Gatsby, Kunstler’s narrator Robert relates the story of a fall from a great height, if not from greatness. At one point in World Made by Hand, the narrator Robert recalls how he used to fly from coast to coast — Boston to Los Angeles — as a matter of routine, with his old job at the software company.

In the days of old Robert flew so high, and moved so far. But his paradise is lost. He has been cast down to where he now dwells, near the Zip Code for Pandemonium. Robert is challenged just to journey forty miles or so, down a failing road to Albany where people might kill him for his shoes.

How far has Robert traveled in his life? And how far has he been brought down? Now in Union Grove — and fortunately for him — Robert is surviving. He is a troubled man, living a post-apocalyptic life in a low energy world. His daily existence is filled with dark shadows of a lost past. And you finish the book wondering if you will one day be so lucky.

Until we meet again…
Byron W. King
July 14, 2008

P.S.: Kunstler’s fictional story is certainly enough to scare us. Imagining a world where Peak Oil has ravaged our current lifestyle is just the incentive we need to start coming up with a solution now. That’s where the oil vacuum comes in. This new invention is one of the best innovations of the past decade and could easily be a big part in the Peak Oil solution.

“World Made by Hand” Book Review was originally featured on Whiskey and Gunpowder. Visit Laissez Faire Books for the best selection of libertarian book titles.

The book begins innocently enough. Two men are fishing in a stream near an old railroad bed. They are talking, enjoying each other’s company. It is “sometime in the not-too-distant future.” And thus does a story unfold over a couple of summer months. The only hint that something is amiss comes when the narrator states that he “couldn’t remember a lovelier evening before or after our world changed.”

The world changed? Then the two fishermen gather their belongings and walk back to town. They are walking, of course, because there are no motorized vehicles. In this world there is no oil. But the lack of oil is just the beginning of this summer’s tale.

Welcome to Union Grove, Where there is No Oil

No, this is not a story about how the world has “run out” of oil. In the big scheme of things, the world will never run out of oil. The Peak Oil concept means a lot of things to a lot of people. But one thing that Peak Oil does NOT premise is that the world will “run out” of oil.

The key idea of Peak Oil is that output of crude oil will reach some maximum level on a global scale. Then world oil output will decline over time. (We may already be there.) There will be oil, but not enough to go around in amounts that people and nations desire. “Not enough” is not the same as “run out.”

In the future there will be oil — plenty of it, perhaps — in some parts of the world. And there will be very little oil, or none, in other parts of the world. And that’s the problem.

Which gets to the point of James Kunstler’s marvelous new book. In the “not-too-distant future” you won’t find oil in the small, upstate town of Union Grove, New York. Union Grove is an isolated, low-energy hamlet. For Union Grove, the Oil Age is over. And in this futuristic setting, Kunstler plays out a prophecy that may be closer than you suspect.

Quite an Apocalypse — And Quite the Post-Apocalyptic Novel

Kunstler’s novel falls within a genre called post-apocalyptic literature. The author’s premise is that there will be an apocalypse. Bad things will befall mankind. Lots of people will die. And some people will survive. This is the survivors’ story.

So in a literary sense, World Made by Hand is similar to some famous Cold War-era novels set in a post-nuclear-war world, such as On the Beach or Level 7. Kunstler is writing fiction about survival and survivors, describing what might happen.

A fictional world creates a new set of boundaries. Some things are not plausible in our “real” world. But good fiction makes possible events and reactions that might not otherwise occur. Within fiction, some events take on a new form of logic or plausibility.

But to be convincing, we have to trust the author or the narrator. With enough trust, we can accept a story based on the narrator’s perspective. The narrator becomes our eyes and ears. So the narrator must come across as reliable.

In World Made by Hand, Kunstler’s narrator “Robert” — a former executive at a software company, turned carpenter — mixes science and technology with well-established economic and political trends. You can believe what is happening in this book because so much of it seems rooted in what you already know to be so.

Overall, Kunstler paints a grim picture of the future. Oil or no, life goes on. It’s like the oil-scarce world of Mad Max, but without the madness. All of life’s emotions are still there, but in different proportions than what we’ve come to expect in our well-energized time. Really, on occasion life is tender in the future. It’s even sweet. In some scenes this book tells a story that is funny. Yes, you are allowed to laugh as you read this book.

The Grim Part

Let’s discuss the grim part. What sort of apocalypse occurs? Well, Kunstler never just hits you in the face with it. Like a grand master, he plays his cards subtly. Kunstler offers you only enough information at any point for you to feel the chill winds of a terrible disaster.

In one exchange of dialogue between the narrator and a young man, the youngster grits his teeth and shakes his head at the current plight all around him. And then the young man refers bitterly to the older fellow being part of “the generation that wrecked the world.” What happened, you wonder? Don’t worry. You’ll find out.

Throughout the book, Kunstler tosses out clues. For example, Kunstler spells out how in the past, worldwide demand for oil far outstripped the available supply. So prices for oil began to skyrocket. People became desperate and did desperate things. Sound familiar?

Kunstler makes passing reference to a war in the Middle East. But Kunstler never goes into detail. He doesn’t have to, really. The details are not critical to this story line. But you learn that during the war, things got out of hand. There was immense loss of life, and most of an American army never came home.

On this last point, Kunstler is not just economical in his use of words. Indeed, he’s downright parsimonious. But with just a quick bit of dialogue, Kunstler puts a chill into your spine if not the fear of God in your heart. With a fraction of a sentence, it’s as if you are reading The Peloponnesian War, where Thucydides describes the loss of the Athenian army in Sicily. “Everything was destroyed,” wrote Thucydides, “and few out of many returned home. Such were the events.”

Kunstler mentions in passing two horrific acts of terrorism. The bad guys (guess who?) managed to set off two nuclear weapons on U.S. soil, obliterating Los Angeles and Washington, DC. Within a short time national commerce broke down. Communications disintegrated. The economy crashed. The capital city of the U.S. moved to Minneapolis. Any semblance of control by a central government just vanished.

But post-disintegration, the U.S. did not become some sort of Libertarian Eden. It was certainly not a place that Dr. Ron Paul would recognize. Indeed, if nothing else the nation could have used some public health control.

There is just a single, short sentence in Kunstler’s novel that refers to a pandemic of “Mexican flu.” Uh-oh. This one disease apparently spread like wildfire and killed off scores of millions of people in the U.S. alone.

For those readers of an Earth First-sort of bent, if not the “deep environmentalists” out there, it’s your wish come true. Finally, a population crash. Whew! It’s as if you died and went to heaven. Except in Kunstler’s book it may well have been a large number of the environmentalists who died and went to heaven. They sure don’t live in Union Grove.

Within Kunstler’s deft narrative, things in post-Peak Oil America just fell apart. The center did not hold. Food supplies dwindled. The power grid broke down. Health care stopped functioning. Roads and highways quickly become impassable due to lack of maintenance, as well as marauding bandits. People starved. Population centers contracted, most in a catastrophic fashion.

And then there were ethnic and racial tensions — small-scale civil war, really. People migrated from one marginally inhabitable part of North America to another. Along the way they stole and fought over whatever booty they could loot and snatch.

In World Made by Hand, Kunstler answers the question posed by Rodney King in 1992 during the Los Angeles riots. “Can’t we all just get along?” Well, no. Not in an unraveling land of rapidly diminishing resources. It’s the same continent, but a different world.

There is a profoundly discouraging message embedded here. For almost everyone in this post-apocalyptic future, life in the U.S. has become, as the saying goes, “a bitch.” And you know what happens next.

Until we meet again…
Byron W. King
July 10, 2008

P.S.: I’ll return shortly with part two of this review. But until then, if you haven’t taken the time to really consider the effects of Peak Oil and how we’ll soon be reaching the realities painted in Kunstler’s book, you’d better start. We’re right now seeing how our lack of oil is impacting our daily lives. The only problem is, we still have a long way to go before it’s all over. Cheap oil may well be a thing of the past.

“World Made by Hand” Book Review was originally featured on Whiskey and Gunpowder. Visit Laissez Faire Books for the best selection of libertarian book titles.