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Caring for the planet (and ourselves) in times of chaos

  • The Garbage Lady
  • Mar 25
  • 7 min read

Image by Frank Marckardt from Pixabay


We control nothing, but we influence everything.

— Scott E. Page, social scientist and John Seely Brown Distinguished University Professor of Complexity, Social Science, and Management


Quite honestly, I wish I were sharing recommendations for eco-friendly, zero-waste mascaras, but I've yet to find any. Besides, the lushest of lashes can't bat away the frenzy of despairing headlines, which, taken collectively, infer that societal collapse is happening in real time. The same conditions that brought down past civilizations are emergent today: natural disasters and climate change; incompetent leaders; foreign invasions and mass migration; famine, economic depression, and internal strife; disease outbreaks; institutional unemployment; demographic dynamics and overshoot. These topics are status quo in the daily news cycle.


This post is not sponsored by Debbie Downer 


Even if societal collapse were to occur, humans would continue to inhabit the Earth—with or without enhanced ocular quills—but at some point, our existence will ultimately come to an end. Human extinction is inevitable; after all, more than 99% of all species that have lived on Earth have become extinct. However, we seem to be expediting our fate because our version of survival has evolved to prioritize human wants and needs at the detriment of the natural environment, affecting so many species including our own. Eventually nature will summon its intrinsic ability to restore balance, and rightly so, since capitalistic greed is contaminating water, air, and soil—the very things that sustain life—at alarming rates and with unconscionable disregard. See the GIC Hall of Shame for just a few examples.


The ouroboros, an ancient symbol of a snake or dragon eating its own tail.


It's getting better and better [for the elites], worse and worse [for everyone/everything else], faster and faster.

— Todd LeVasseur, senior lecturer in environmental and sustainability studies; associate director of the ENSS program at the College of Charleston; and author of "Sustainability and Peaceful Coexistence for the Anthropocene"


Species have always gone extinct, civilizations have always fallen, and humans (also hominids) have been contaminating the environment ever since they adopted the use of fire nearly 2 million years ago. More recently, the ancient Greeks were guilty of lead pollution 5,200 years ago. But unlike eras of the past, today's world is interconnected in ways never before experienced, and when one system fails, the domino effect soon takes place, as we witnessed with the Covid-19 pandemic and its effect on the global supply chain, health system, travel and tourism industries, education, business closures, homelessness, and mental health. We also live in a time of unprecedented wealth and rapidly growing wealth inequity: The richest 10% of the global population hold more than 50% of personal wealth. Here in the US, the richest 10% hold 71.2% of personal wealth, skewed by our large number of billionaires. They're also responsible for 40% of climate-related emissions in the US. How is it possible that the world's richest person lost over 120 billion dollars since the end of 2024—25% of their net worth—and is still the world's richest person? (And plenty of other contemptuous superlatives that I will refrain from listing.)


Real-time billionaire wealth tracking tool maintained by Forbes as of March 3, 2025. At that point in time, I was pleased to see that the net worth for all except Warren Buffet had dropped. The Oracle of Omaha has promised to donate over 99% of his wealth and has been a long-time proponent of higher tax rates for the ultra rich. The rest are making things better and better for themselves and worse and worse for everyone else.


I raise these points not to deepen the depths of despair, but to make it clear that the magnitude of what we're facing is unique, even if the individual symptoms are reruns on the History Channel. Looking not too far back on my personal history, I remember a time before I thought about climate change on a daily basis. Greenwashing and sustainability weren't marketing tactics, microplastics and PFAS chemicals weren't omnipresent, I never questioned whether municipal water was safe to drink, and out of sight was truly out of mind when it came to garbage. So many truths were hidden from us by those who profited, and through distraction and deceit, our daily practices of incremental destruction became normalized.


In those veiled days, I answered more questions than I asked. My younger son, then four, asked me why the dinosaurs were gone, and each answer given prompted additional questions. Humans by nature are curious and crave information, and any parent of a young child is all too familiar with the 5 Ws and H: who, what, when, where, why, and how, on constant repeat. The downside to curiosity and craving is that questions asked can lead to answers we don't like. (What's for dinner?) Many choose to replace truth with more palatable "alternative facts." (It's not kale, it's dinosaur skin.) But whether we believe Earth to be spherical or flat, warming or not, our belief doesn't make it so. Others choose nihilism; if we're all doomed, why bother? I'm not judging but acknowledging that we all have different capacities and responses for dealing with discomfort.


Apart from shrugging off reality and blanketing ourselves in denial, or simply not caring, how else can we respond to the imminence of societal collapse, an uninhabitable Earth, and extinction? It serves no benefit if we spiral into overwhelm. I doubt running away to Mars is the answer, and seriously, Mars sucks. We can start with radical acceptance, which Verywell Mind defines as "the ability to accept situations that are outside of your control without judging them, which reduces the suffering they cause. By accepting things for what they are, you can acknowledge your emotions without denying, avoiding, or ignoring the situation." While radical acceptance is essential for cultivating peace of mind, we need more when facing existential threat and missing from its definition is an emphasis on engagement over complacency, along with gratitude, meaning, and purpose. Building on the foundation of radical acceptance, the "post-doom" mindset accounts for these missing elements:


1. What opens up when we remember who we are and how we got here, accept the inevitable, honor our grief, and prioritize what is pro-future and soul-nourishing. 2. A fierce and fearless reverence for life and expansive gratitude – even in the midst of abrupt climate mayhem and the runaway collapse of societal harmony, the health of the biosphere, and business as usual. 3. Living meaningfully, compassionately, and courageously, no matter what.

— Excerpt from the Post-doom wiki page and Post-doom website


We can accept the inevitable loss and the accompanying grief, but we also need to live our lives in ways that matter. Doing so means turning off the spigot of doom from time to time and turning our attentions to the things that bring us comfort and joy. When I first became a parent, my favorite aunt would tell me, "You need to take care of yourself so you can take care of someone else." In other words, I needed to be fed and rested, and I needed mental breaks, so I could be the version of myself my kids deserved. Her words still resonate today, but in a slightly different form: "We need to take care of ourselves so we can care for the planet." The revision accounts for the fact that not one of us can take care of the planet, but we can all care for it. The responsibility is collective. My kids are now living independent lives, but I'll continue to care for them, even though I expect to be gone long before them. Similarly, I'll continue to care for the planet even though I expect to be gone long before it.


Caring for the planet doesn't have to be an insurmountable task. Find one thing to care about—a place, a species, a cause—and become its advocate. Bolster yourself by spending time with the people you love and showing up for others. Connect with nature, whether through a long hike, a short walk, or a moment admiring a tree. Appreciate creativity in the form of music, art, books, and film. Research finds that hobbies are good for mental health. I've recently taken up knitting (apparently it's cool again), and the activity pairs perfectly with a good audiobook or podcast. I'm a hack of a gardener, but I make an attempt each year. The gratification isn't tied to the end results but comes from being outside, digging dirt, planting seeds, and helping them grow. (Although I quite enjoy the reward of eating anything my garden happens to produce.)


Action on behalf of life transforms. Because the relationship between the self and the world is reciprocal, it is not a question of first getting enlightened or saved and then acting. As we work to heal the Earth, the Earth heals us.

— Robin Wall Kimmerer, enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, founder and director of the Center for Native Peoples and the Environment, SUNY Distinguished Teaching Professor of Environmental Biology, MacArthur Fellow, and the author of numerous best-selling books about the natural world


Reluctantly, I've let go of wishful thinking: "If everyone just stopped [enter planet destroying behavior here] or started [enter planet affirming behavior here], then we could alter the course." I'm grieving the loss of a version of the future I once thought possible, an ongoing exercise, but I won't be complacent and I'm trying to be less complicit. I'll continue to reduce, reuse, repurpose, repair, recycle, and compost. I'll endeavor to shop sustainably and support small local businesses, because I'd rather contribute to my community than a billionaire with a bunker. (For more reasons to ditch Amazon, watch the Netflix documentary Buy Now: The Shopping Conspiracy.) I'll keep asking questions, adapting my behaviors, and exercising my voice. I can't control the outcomes, but I can certainly influence them, and while I've set my sights on the seventh generation, I'll focus on today. I have to believe that my pro-future, soul-nourishing actions matter, imperfect as they are. If nothing else, they matter to me.


When the Flaming Lips released "Do You Realize?" back in 2002, they didn't realize it would be adopted as the official rock song of Oklahoma. I didn't realize it would frequently divert my daily thoughts on climate change, as the song pretty well encapsulates the post-doom mindset.


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