Preventing Extinction

We can all see we are headed for extinction.

The signs are everywhere, written in the headlines of our daily news and whispered in the corridors of power.

But is it possible for this to NOT happen?

Can we, as a species, defy what seems to be our inevitable fate?

Many of our most respected thinkers argue that escape is impossible. Let's consider their perspectives:

Religious scholars and theologians point to ancient prophecies, saying our doom was foretold millennia ago. They quote sacred texts that speak of Armageddon, Ragnarök, or the Kali Yuga—apocalyptic scenarios that mark the end of our world. To them, our current crises are merely the unfolding of a divine plan, predetermined and inescapable.

Political scientists and international relations experts paint an equally grim picture, but from a secular viewpoint. They remind us that the fundamental forces driving human conflict haven't changed in thousands of years. Tribalism, resource competition, and the hunger for power remain as potent as ever. What has changed, they warn, are our tools of destruction.

These analysts point to an arms race that has spiraled beyond our control. We've created weapons of such devastating power that a single use could render our planet uninhabitable. Worse still, in our quest for the perfect deterrent, we've begun to remove human decision-making from the equation. Artificial intelligence systems, designed to maintain a "credible threat," stand ready to launch these weapons without the hesitation or fear that might stay a human hand.

Environmentalists and climate scientists add their voices to this chorus of doom. They show us data charting the rapid decline of biodiversity, the pollution of our air and water, and the destabilization of our climate. The tipping points we once feared, they say, are no longer on the horizon—we've already passed them. The momentum of our destruction, built up over centuries of industrialization and exploitation, may be too great to overcome.

Economists and sociologists point to growing inequality, both within and between nations. They argue that our global economic system, built on the premise of endless growth, is fundamentally at odds with the finite resources of our planet. As scarcity increases, they predict, so too will conflict—potentially triggering the very wars we most fear.

Even technological optimists, once heralds of a brighter future, now sound notes of caution. The rise of artificial intelligence, they warn, could render large swaths of humanity obsolete. Biotechnology, while promising medical miracles, also opens the door to engineered pandemics far deadlier than anything nature has produced.

Faced with this convergence of threats—nuclear annihilation, environmental collapse, economic upheaval, and technological disruption—it's easy to succumb to despair. The voices of our most knowledgeable experts seem to agree: the end is not just possible, but probable.

But is this truly our inescapable destiny?

As we stand at this crossroads of human history, we must ask ourselves: Are we content to accept this bleak forecast as inevitable? Or do we have the courage to imagine—and create—a different future? Perhaps the very act of questioning our fate opens a door to possibility, one that challenges us to think beyond the confines of our current paradigms and envision a path forward that defies these dire predictions.

What if, instead, we choose to face these threats head-on? What if we summon the courage to confront our fears and look our potential extinction squarely in the eye?

Let's start by being be honest with ourselves: The picture painted by the experts is grim. It’s easy to feel paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the challenges we face. But let me ask you something: If we throw up our hands and do nothing, where does that leave us? It's like being on a sinking ship and refusing to even look for a life raft, because we are too paralyzed by fear to understand there may be something we can use to save ourselves. Some say, when considering saving ourselves, it is a waste of time to look because there can’t possibly be anything we can use to save us. There is no way out. Looking for a way out is a waste of time and will put us all into the category of insane: those who try to do the impossible are in this category.

I say this: Perhaps, if we look, we won’t find the solutions. (I know for a fact that the are there and if we look in the right places, we will find them; that is what this book is about. But, playing the devils’ advocate, say that we look and happen to miss the bins that have the life rafts.) But this is not an excuse to not even look. As long as there is any hope at all, we need to keep looking.

Two kinds of Solutions

All animals have instincts that push them to protect their loved ones and themselves, when faced by physical threats. The reaction is unconscious. Their heart rate spikes, their cortisal levels rise, and adrenaline is pumped into their system, giving them strength and stamina that they didn’t have in calm states. Humans are animals and these instincts kick in for us. Mothers have shown superhuman strength, for short periods of time, in order to save their babies.

If the threats are intellectual and require thought to figure out, these instincts don’t kick in. We need to use conscious thought and intention to find solutions to the problems that threaten us and, when faced by threats that require our higher intellectual capabilities, the instincts just aren’t there. We seem content to wait until the end comes.

This happens in the animal world. Sure, let's illustrate this point with an analogy from the natural world: Consider the dodo bird. Once thriving on the isolated island of Mauritius, the dodo had no natural predators. It evolved without the need for swift action or clever defenses. When humans arrived on the island, bringing with them rats and other invasive species, the dodo wasn’t equipped to deal with these new threats. It couldn't fly, it had no fear of humans, and it didn't possess the instincts to protect itself or its young from these unfamiliar dangers. The dodo's inability to adapt, to adrenalize, or to outsmart these threats ultimately led to its extinction.

Similarly, many animal species, when faced with threats that require more than just fight or flight responses, struggle to survive. They lack the cognitive ability to innovate, to strategize, or to understand the complex nature of the dangers they face. For instance, polar bears, faced with the intellectual challenge of climate change, cannot simply adapt their behaviors to stop the ice from melting. They can't innovate solutions to protect their habitat or food sources.

Now, let's bring this back to us. Unlike these animals, we humans possess an incredible capacity for reason, for innovation, and for problem-solving. We're not dodos or polar bears, helpless in the face of complex threats. We have the ability to understand, to adapt, and to create solutions. But here's the catch: these abilities don't kick in automatically like our fight or flight responses. They require conscious effort, intentional thought, and a willingness to confront our fears head-on.

Finding the life raft isn't just about physical effort; it's about the courage to challenge our deepest assumptions and confront our greatest fears. You see, the life raft isn't just a floatation device—it's a new perspective, a different way of seeing the world and our place in it. And that can be terrifying.

Imagine this: We've scoured the ship, and there, tucked away in a corner, we find the life raft. But as we pull it out, we realize it's not like any life raft we've seen before. It's not made for one person, or one family, or even one country. It's designed for all of us, every single person on the ship. And to inflate it, to make it buoyant, we have to work together—all of us.

This is where our greatest fear comes in. We realize that using this life raft means accepting that the old ways aren't working. It means acknowledging that the divisions we've created—the countries, the borders, the ideologies—are not serving us, not if we want a future free from war and destruction. It means understanding that the world isn't divided by imaginary lines, but is one interconnected whole.

To inflate this life raft, people from East and West must work side by side. Capitalists and communists must find common ground. Those who have been taught to hate each other must learn to see each other as fellow passengers, all equally deserving of a spot on the raft.

And that's scary.

It's scary because it means letting go of our prejudices, our preconceived notions, our comforting hatreds.

It means the cowboy must see the world through the eyes of the Indian, and vice versa. It means the cat person must work with the dog person, not because they've suddenly started liking dogs, but because they understand that their survival, and the survival of all the cats they love, depends on it.

This life raft demands that we reimagine our world, that we abandon ancient ideas that no longer serve us, and that we embrace a new perspective—one that sees unity in diversity, cooperation over competition, and shared humanity over divisive ideologies.

We must also confront an even deeper fear, one that may be the most formidable obstacle of all: the realization that the most serious problems we face—war, destruction, environmental degradation—are not isolated issues that can be tackled directly. They are symptoms of a profound and pervasive illness rooted in the very structure of our societies.

Addressing these problems requires more than just band-aid solutions; it demands a fundamental reevaluation of the systems we've inherited. The true challenge lies not in the problems themselves, but in our unwillingness to question the foundations of our world. We cling to familiar structures, even as they crumble beneath us, because the alternative—change—terrifies us.

It is this fear of change, this desire to hold onto the comfort of the known, that keeps us from even looking for the life raft. It paralyzes us, blinding us to the possibility of a different, better future. To truly save ourselves, we must first overcome this fear and be willing to challenge the status quo, to ask the hard questions, and to imagine a world where our societies are designed not for competition and division, but for cooperation and unity.

But where do we begin? How do we start to challenge the status quo and envision alternatives? The first step is to understand the fundamental organization of our societies. By examining the structures that shape our world, we can begin to see the root causes of our problems and the pathways to solutions.

Let's take a step back and look at the basic organization of our societies. Today, we divide the world into more than 250 entities called 'countries.' (According to the CIA Factbook, there are 261 as I write this, but the exact number changes from day to day and week to week.) Each of these countries operates as a tribal unit, claiming sovereignty over a territory and organizing its wealth to compete with other countries over resources. This territorial sovereignty is a basic and integral part of the current Earth social structure.

How did this system come to exist? Did this arrangement come into existence through intelligent planning and intention? Did our ancestors gather around a table, perhaps under the shade of an ancient tree, to meticulously design this system? Did they debate and discuss, weighing the pros and constructive incentives of a world divided into hundreds of countries, or a world without these divisions, and eventually decide that the divided world was in the interests of the human race?

If this were the case, we would expect to find evidence of such deliberation and planning. We would have records of these discussions, documents outlining the rationale behind the division of the world into nations. We would see traces of a grand design, a blueprint for a society structured around competition and territorial sovereignty. Yet, no such evidence exists. There are no ancient scrolls or historical accounts detailing a global conference where this system was carefully crafted.

Instead, what we find is a system that has evolved organically over millennia. It was shaped by historical accidents, power struggles, and the ebb and flow of not just human migrations and conflicts, but also those of our evolutionary ancestors. The division of the world into nations may not be the result of wise, intentional planning by our ancestors, but rather a continuation and evolution of patterns that were already in place among earlier species.

You see, this system is not unique to humans. In fact, it closely mirrors the social structures of many animal societies—a system I refer to as Tribal Territorial Sovereignty (TTS) societies. In these societies, species split into tribal groups (packs, for wolves, troops for gorillas and chimpanzees) to identify, claim, and defend territories. From ants to apes, this pattern repeats itself in many places throughout the animal kingdom.

It's not difficult to imagine that early humans, as they evolved and gained greater cognitive capabilities, may have inherited and built upon these existing social structures. What we see today—the division of the world into competing nations—could be an evolved manifestation of these ancient, animalistic patterns.

Our next task is to simply look at this system, as objectively as we can, to see how it works. This is not an easy task, as it requires us to step back from our familiar perspectives and examine the very foundations of our societies. We must be willing to question what we've long taken for granted and explore new ways of understanding our world.

As we embark on this exploration, we'll find that even the basic steps to understand this system have not yet been taken. In fact, we don’t even have a name for the system that divides our species into tribal groups, carves the land into bordered territories, and pits these tribes against each other in contests over resources and power. It's as if we've been navigating a vast, uncharted territory without a map or compass.

By naming and defining this system, we can begin to make sense of it. We can start to see the patterns and dynamics that shape our behaviors, our policies, and our interactions with each other and the planet. This exploration requires effort—it demands that we challenge our assumptions, ask tough questions, and confront uncomfortable truths. But it is a journey that promises valuable insights and a deeper understanding of our world.

In the following chapters, we will undertake this exploration together. We will delve into the concept of ‘tribal territorial sovereignty,’ which we will see is the foundational principle of the societies of modern Earth humans. We will see that many other species have societies built on this principle and that all of these societies have certain forces that lead to the same basic realities (‘problems’ if you want to make value judgments about the organized mass murder events that are inherent parts of these systems) and social structures we see in human societies today.

We will gain a clearer picture of the system that has governed human societies since their very beginning. We will be equipped to ask: Is this the best we can do? Or is there a better way forward, a way that harnesses our incredible human potential to create a future where we all can thrive?

Before we set sail on this journey, let's revisit the life raft analogy. The first step in solving a problem is recognizing and understanding it. Before we take the effort to find a life raft seriously, we must accept that we really do need one. We must accept that the ship around us—our current societal structure—is no longer seaworthy. We must acknowledge that it is taking on water, that its hull is rotting, and that its engines are failing.

We must face the reality that our ship, as it stands, is not equipped to navigate the storms of the 21st century and beyond. The challenges we face—from climate change to nuclear proliferation, from resource depletion to economic inequality—are not mere rough patches that can be weathered with minor repairs. They are existential threats, and they demand a fundamental reevaluation of our course.

Accepting this reality is not easy. We want to take comfort in the claims of those who built the ship that it is unsinkable, that it will right itself after the storm. But this is a false comfort, a dangerous illusion, something that can cause a catastrophe if accepted.

The societies we inherited are not sustainable. This means they are going away. While we can’t prevent this, we can decide which of two ways it happens: First, we can do nothing and wait. A war or destructive event will come along that is too great for us to deal with. This event will cause the societies to go away by destroying the ‘carriers’ of these societies, the humans on the ship. When there are no humans, there will be no human societies.

Second, we accept that these societies really are unsustainable. To extend the analogy, we can accept that the ship is going down. We can find something else. We can take the things that work well and do benefit the human race from the systems we have now (and there is a lot in this category) and use these materials to build a new kind of society, one that is designed intentionally to meet the needs of the beings we have evolved into. To extend the analogy, we can take the soundest timbers and rigging of the sinking ship and build a new one, giving future generations a sound foundation that they can improve to meet the needs of those who follow them.

With this understanding, let's proceed on our journey. Let's explore the concept of tribal territorial sovereignty, let's scrutinize the very fabric of our societies, and let's ask the tough questions. For it is in this exploration that we will find the seeds of hope, the promise of a better future, and the path to a world where we all can thrive.

In the following chapters, we will undertake this exploration together. We will delve into the concept of ‘tribal territorial sovereignty,’ which we will see is the foundational principle of the societies of modern Earth humans. We will see that many other species have societies built on this principle and that all of these societies have certain forces that lead to the same basic realities and social structures we see in human societies today.