THE SLOW ROAD TO OBLIVION

Back in 2021, American billionaires and Russian oligarchs were shaping their world. We pondered what we could do about that. The answer was nothing, so we wrote Sidelines. In the mood that was formed by the song, The Slow Road to Oblivion took shape.

There are two schools of thought on the relative movement of Earth.

The first says Earth moves around our sun in a circular orbit at roughly 30 kilometres per second. Meanwhile, our solar system whirls around the centre of its galaxy at something like 220 kilometres per second. With that sort of speed, it appears Earth is in a terrible hurry to get somewhere.

The obvious question is: where are we going?

Apparently, we are hurtling toward a region of space known as the Great Attractor, about 150 million light-years away. This means it’s probably not worth keeping an eye out for it.

The second school of thought suggests that you will become just as confused by listening to the Galaxy Song from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life—but at least that is more entertaining.

Either way, Earth hurtles through space while its inhabitants go along for the ride.

The problem for humans is that our ride may be rather short.

We have been on the planet for roughly 0.004% of its existence and, if current trends continue, we may struggle to extend that record by very much.

By the time the four horsemen of the apocalypse ride across the plains, they may find very little left to do. No television cameras to record the event. No prophets promising paradise. No moneylenders offering to buy your soul. Only a scattering of bewildered humans representing the end of the species.

The planet itself will carry on regardless.

Earth survived quite happily for most of its history without humans. Life was sustained and sustainable. Even the dinosaurs managed around 170 million years without destroying it.

Then we arrived.

At first, there were only a few of us wandering through forests and across plains with the simple goal of survival. Over time the family tree effect took over, and eventually humanity reached a stage where we forgot that survival on a finite planet requires restraint.

In the grand ecological scheme of things, it would make sense for humans to behave like careful parasites—keeping the host alive. Instead, we behave like conquering hordes.

Mutualism, where both partners benefit, would seem a better long-term strategy. Unfortunately, mutualism rarely appeals to the people selling the population optimistic ledgers about the state of the planet.

These leaders—whether in corporate boardrooms or political offices—seem convinced that the purpose of civilisation is the production of “more.” More cars, more phones, more fashion, more construction and more of almost everything.

There is far less enthusiasm for the other forms of “more”: more pollution, more plastics, more waste and more exhausted landscapes.

Over time, much of humanity has been persuaded that consumption equals progress. Marketing dreams have convinced many of us that happiness arrives in cardboard boxes and is upgraded every twelve months.

Consider the modern smartphone. Every year we are encouraged to buy a new one. Yet it is worth asking how replacing a perfectly good device actually improves human communication, the health of the planet, or the long-term survival of our species.

In the lifetime of this writer, the global population has risen by more than five billion people. Shopping has shifted from local stores selling local goods to multinational chains supplying global products. Plastics have replaced baskets and paper bags, and waste has become a worldwide problem.

Across the planet we have polluted water, degraded soil and cleared forests, all in the name of progress.

Medical science, on the other hand, has made extraordinary advances. Humans are living longer than ever before, which is excellent news for individuals.

For the planet, the situation is less clear. Many estimates suggest that Earth’s comfortable population limit may be somewhere around ten billion people. If that figure is even vaguely accurate, we are approaching the “almost full” sign.

Unfortunately, reducing population is not a topic that attracts many practical suggestions.

Comedian Billy Connolly once proposed a solution to overpopulation and hunger: cannibalism. “If everyone ate one person,” he suggested, “the problem would be solved overnight.”

While the idea is unlikely to receive widespread support, it does at least demonstrate that humans can still approach serious problems with humour.

War has also been suggested as a population control mechanism, but history shows it has little lasting effect. Even the devastation of World War II barely dented long-term population growth.

So perhaps the four horsemen of the apocalypse will eventually arrive after all.

The white horse represents conquest, although much of that work appears already completed by multinational corporations.

The red horse represents war, but modern economies often make more money from the threat of war than from the real thing.

The black horse represents famine. This rider may still have work to do as droughts, floods and environmental damage place increasing pressure on global food supplies.

Finally there is the pale horse—plague. Medical science is impressive, but pandemics have a habit of appearing faster than vaccines.

If humanity eventually disappears, it is unlikely to happen overnight. The end will probably arrive slowly through environmental decline, resource depletion and the cumulative effects of too many people demanding too much from a finite planet.

Humans like to think we are the most intelligent creatures ever to inhabit Earth. We forget that the dinosaurs lasted around 170 million years. We will be fortunate to manage even a fraction of that.

And parasites? Parasites, at least, understand the importance of keeping their host alive.

Still, there are glimmers of hope. Some people repair things rather than discard them. Others rebuild local communities or study ancient cultures for guidance on sustainable living. Scientists are searching for new foods and cleaner technologies.

Unfortunately, these efforts remain small compared with the scale of the problem.

After all, many people believe that the real solutions can be left for future generations.

When the final chapter arrives, the last human may or may not depart with dignity. Sadly, there will be no one left to record the event.

As for the writer, I simply keep an eye on the ocean. Once the dolphins leave the water and fly off into the sky, I will know the end is near.