Say Goodbye to Normal
James
Howard Kunstler
31
August, 2015
The
tremors rattling markets are not exactly what they seem to be. A meme
prevails that these movements represent a kind of financial
peristalsis — regular wavelike workings of eternal progress toward
an epic more of everything, especially profits! You can forget the
supposedly “normal” cycles of the techno-industrial arrangement,
which means, in particular, the business cycle of the standard
economics textbooks. Those cycle are dying.
They’re
dying because there really are Limits to Growth and we are now
solidly in grips of those limits. Only we can’t recognize the way
it is expressing itself, especially in political terms. What’s
afoot is a not “recession” but a permanent contraction of what
has been normal for a little over two hundred years. There is not
going to be more of everything, especially profits, and the stock
buyback orgy that has animated the corporate executive suites will be
recognized shortly for what it is: an assest-stripping operation.
What’s
happening now is a permanent contraction. Well, of course, nothing
lasts forever, and the contraction is one phase of a greater
transition. The cornucopians and techno-narcissists would like to
think that we are transitioning into an even more lavish era of
techno-wonderama — life in a padded recliner tapping on a tablet
for everything! I don’t think so. Rather, we’re going medieval,
and we’re doing it the hard way because there’s just not enough
to go around and the swollen populations of the world are going to be
fighting over what’s left.
Actually,
we’ll be lucky if we can go medieval, because there’s no
guarantee that the contraction has to stop there, especially if we
behave really badly about it — and based on the way we’re acting
now, it’s hard to be optimistic about our behavior improving. Going
medieval would imply living within the solar energy income of the
planet, and by that I don’t mean photo-voltaic panels, but rather
what the planet might provide in the way of plant and animal “income”
for a substantially smaller population of humans. That plus a
long-term resource salvage operation.
All
the grand movements of stock indexes and central banks are just a
diverting sort of stagecraft within the larger pageant of this
contraction. The governors of the Federal Reserve play the role of
viziers in this comic melodrama. That is, they are exalted figures
robed in magical Brooks Brothers summer poplin pretending to have
supernatural power to control events. You can tell from their recent
assembly out west — “A-holes at the J-hole” — that they are
very much in doubt that their “powers” will continue to be taken
seriously. This endless hand-wringing over a measily quarter-point
interest rate hike is like some quarrel among alchemists as to
whether a quarter-degree rise in temperature might render a lump of
clay into a gold nugget.
What
they do doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that a great deal
of the notional “wealth” they conjured up over the past decade or
so is about to vanish —poof! Perhaps that will look like a black
magic act. That wealth seemed so real! The bulging portfolios with
their exquisite allocations! The clever options! The cunning shorts.
Especially the canny bets in dark derivative pools! All up in a
vapor. The sad truth being it was never there in the first place. It
was just an hallucination induced by the manipulation of markets and
the criminal misrepresentation of statistics, especially the
employment numbers.
There
are rumors that the Grand Vizeress of all, Ms. Yellen, is flirting
with possible indictment over the “leakage” of valuable
information out of her inner circle to potential profiteers. Whoops.
It may lead nowhere but to me it is an index of her more general loss
of credibility. All year she has spouted supernaturally fallacious
nonsense about how “the data” guides Fed decision-making. Only
her data is contrary to what is actually happening in the pathetic
Rube Goldberg contraption that the so-called US economy has become
(Walmart + entitlements). Her “guidance” amounts to a lot of
futile drum-beating on a turret of the Fed castle, hoping to make it
rain prosperity. Her enigmatic utterances have kept financial markets
in a narrow sideways channel most of the year until recently.
I’d
say she’d lost her mojo, and the lesser viziers on the Fed board
are looking more and more like the larval, sunken-chested dweebs that
they really are. So where is the nation to turn? Why, to the great
blustering Trump, with his “can-do” bombast about “making
America great again.” What does he mean, exactly? Like, making
America the way it was in 1958?” Behold: the return of the great
steel rolling mills along the banks of the Monongahela (and so on)!
Fuggeddabowdit. Ain’t gonna happen.
I
have to say it again: prepare to get smaller and more local. Things
on the grand level are not going to work out. Get your shit together
locally, and do it in place that has some prospect for keeping on: a
small town somewhere food can be grown and especially places near the
inland waterways where some kind of commercial exchange might
continue in the absence of the trucking industry. Sound outlandish?
Okay then. Keep buying Tesla stock and party on, dudes. Hail the
viziers in their star-and-planet bedizened Brooks Brother raiment.
Put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.