How the Poor and the Rich are Getting Ready for the End of the World
Why has everyone around started getting actively involved in survivalism? What is it all about, anyway? How much does it cost? And what problems does it solve? Let's delve into this.
Nobel laureate and father of immunology theory, Ilya Mechnikov, believed that somewhere after the age of 70, humans develop an instinct of death. It's no wonder that one disheveled Russian, who claimed the last spot in the Hitler cosplay competition (referring to V.V. Putin), - after exchanging his eighth decade last year - began threatening to turn himself and the entire world into nuclear ashes. A striking example of how the instinct of death of one subhuman, after two decades of boundless power, transformed into the instinct of death of the entire Russian state.
It's not surprising as well that if this Chekist victim of Thanatos possesses nuclear weapons, then in many people from various countries around the world, another instinct is heightened - self-preservation. It manifests in the fear that tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, or the next Sunday, the end of everything will come, so it's advisable to prepare in advance. The so-called "survivalists," also known as "preppers," form a subculture of panic-prone individuals (or are they followers of common sense?) who actively prepare for life in a post-apocalyptic world.
In the 21st century, it seemed that, as Mark Zuckerberg wanted, all relentless enemies would befriend each other on Facebook, and the threat of nuclear apocalypse would vanish. However, Kremlin dictator Putin fundamentally avoids using the internet (because, of course, it's an invention of the CIA!), hence he's unable to befriend anyone in the world except perhaps those very insane dictators from North Korea and Belarus. As a result, he amuses himself with nuclear threats. Add to this the pandemic, rapid advancements in artificial intelligence, climate changes, political polarization of Western society, and so on - and it becomes clear why at the beginning of 2023, scientists adjusted the Doomsday Clock by 90 seconds to midnight.
Photo: Doomsday Clock, Source: Thebulletin.org
What should ordinary people do in such a situation? Clearly, there's only one option - to join the ranks of survivalists. Some, following the example of Mormons, stock up on provisions for at least three weeks ahead. Others, in the finest traditions of the Caribbean Crisis, construct family fallout shelters in their backyards. Some install solar panels in case of a total blackout. And some amass an arsenal of weapons to defend against the wild bands of future post-apocalyptic anarchy.
Survivalism: A Hobby or a Way of Life
Survivalism, whether pursued as a hobby or a way of life, depends on various factors such as income level, physical preparedness, and available free time. Consequently, each individual has access only to specific tiers within the survivalist community, so to speak. Naturally, it all begins with the economy class. This is when someone purchases a TV subscription and, by watching Bear Grylls' adventures, becomes a professional "armchair survivalist." However, it's unlikely that they could practically handle a map and compass, set up a tent in the woods, or start a fire using eyeglasses. Nevertheless, they know all about it (just like a 40-year-old single guy from a certain movie knew about touching women's breasts – "sacks of sand").
The next tier involves a survival budget ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars. But this is somewhat substantial, as it involves assembling practical EDC (Everyday Carry) or BOB (Bug-Out Bag) kits. If you find it amusing to see someone wearing a vest with a multitude of pockets filled with various items – a magnifying glass, whistle, paracord, multitools galore, waterproof notepad, power bank, first aid kit, foil blanket, dry alcohol, flint and tinder, matches, bandages and iodine, syringe, signal mirror, mini radio, and so forth – then know that this is the modern survivalist.
Photo: EDC (Everyday Carry), Source: Amazon
Of course, not all EDC enthusiasts or BOB maniacs cram their survival gear into pockets. Some people carry so many miscellaneous items for unexpected extreme situations that they end up needing separate bags and pouches. In this manner, the fear of an apocalypse striking suddenly and anywhere turns some people into perpetual tourists. They head to work, the store for bread, or an evening stroll with backpacks weighing up to 20 kg. Whether they would survive if something happened is a big question, but they are surely earning scoliosis. Not long ago, a prepared gentleman's standard EDC kit consisted only of a wallet, watch, handkerchief, pen, flashlight, and perhaps a Swiss Army knife. However, apocalyptic paranoia compels people to acquire diverse survival odds and ends for every potential scenario.
There's also a distinct caste of minimalist survivalists (or more precisely, miniaturists). They buy Altoids mints, hand out the mints themselves to kids and homeless people, and keep the distinctive metal tin for themselves. It's believed to be perfect for creating a mini survival kit. People even compete to see who can fit the most various items into their Altoids tin that might someday hypothetically come in handy (like tweezers, a blade, aspirin, condoms, and so forth).
Photo: Altoids tin, Source: Wikipedia
Survival Kits: More Than Just Urban Options
Survival kits are more of an option for city dwellers who plan to stay in their familiar urban jungles even in dire circumstances. However, advanced survivalists prepare for life in the woods. They are right to do so because when the end of the world arrives, hiding in a basement or bunker for an extended period won't be feasible. Eventually, there will be a need to replenish food and water supplies (supermarkets are likely to be non-operational). While scouts used to boast the best woodland skills (mastering the art of woodcraft in their summer camps), now everyone is into what's known as "bushcraft." Essentially, it's the same concept, but it pertains to surviving not in the woods, but in the bush – a terrain filled with dense undergrowth, like Australia or South Africa.
Photo: Bushcraft Shelter, Source: Webscreenshot
This form of survivalism was popularized by British adventurer Ray Mears. In 1983, he founded the now globally recognized bushcraft school, Woodlore. In 1990, he published his first book, "The Survival Handbook." Later on, this bushcraft expert gained fame through TV projects like "Ray Mears' World of Survival," where, unlike Bear Grylls (from shows like "Man vs. Wild" and "Worst-Case Scenario"), he doesn't engage in dramatic setups or recommend actions that would unlikely work in real situations. Enthusiastic about bushcraft, survivalists hone their skills by venturing into the wild on weekends and attempting to survive there for a few days with minimal tools. The pinnacle of skill is being able to manage with just a knife.
Photo: Ray Mears, Source: Woodlore
In addition to acquiring wilderness survival skills, one must also consider chronic health conditions in advance. After all, when society collapses, obtaining medicine for ulcers or visiting a dentist to extract a painful tooth will become extremely challenging. Interestingly, in 2016, Reddit co-founder Steve Huffman, who suffered from nearsightedness, underwent laser eye surgery. Not because he couldn't find fashionable eyeglasses, but because he views doomsday scenarios as entirely feasible and understands that should his "second set of eyes" break, he won't be able to buy new ones anywhere, and no amount of bushcraft will help in that regard.
Survivalism: A Persistent Affliction
Survivalism is a condition that's easy to catch but nearly impossible to shake off. There exists a league of veteran survivalists. A prime example of this category is Canadian Bruce Beach. Back in the 80s, he was so alarmed by Soviet missiles that he purchased around 40 decommissioned school buses for $300 each and buried them in the ground, sealing them with concrete and earth. Beforehand, Beach created passages between the buses, resulting in a complex underground bunker. He maintains and improves it to this day. He dubbed his life's project "The Ark Two." This sanctuary can accommodate about 400 people and covers an area of one square kilometer, making it the largest private bunker in Cold War history. It's a great option for those who live nearby and lack the funds to construct a private shelter (which costs around $20,000 and above).
Photo: The Ark Two, Source: Webscreenshot
Moving on to the league of millionaire survivalists. Regular folks won't see them next to them in the subway, nor will they encounter them in the event of an apocalypse. This is because the wealthy value an elevated level of comfort, and to keep any plebs from stumbling around – this approach extends to the expectations of millionaires regarding their post-apocalyptic lifestyle standards. Demand spawns supply. In 2008, a businessman purchased an abandoned mine in Kansas, originally intended for nuclear missiles, and built a 15-story underground bunker there with a dozen VIP apartments. This condominium was named the Survival Condo Project, and all its units (ranging from $3 million to $1.5 million) were snapped up like hotcakes. When something kicks off, a militarized special team with armored vehicles will collect the condominium owners within a 400-mile radius, then take their position at the gate – protecting the residents from anticipated assaults by hungry masses. Meanwhile, the affluent will relax in their apartments, where everything has been arranged to minimize stress from the end of the world. Even plasma screens resembling windows have been installed on the bunker walls, displaying any chosen view: a calming forest for some, a prairie for others, and perhaps Central Park for a few (with distant street sounds, car traffic, and taxi honks playing from the speakers). When you read about the Survival Condo Project, you understand that if you're going to have to survive, it's better to do so with millions in your account rather than an Altoids tin in a holey pocket or in underground school buses ruled by a crazed old man armed with a rifle.
Photo: Survival Condo Project, Source: Survivalcondo.com
Facing the Apocalypse... at the World's Edge
Meeting the end of the world... at the edge of the world, that's a popular plan for those affluent individuals who dislike the idea of hunkering down underground. For instance, in 2016, former Facebook manager Antonio Garcia Martinez purchased two hectares of land on an island in the Pacific Ocean and transported generators, solar panels, and an arsenal of weaponry there. Now he sleeps soundly, knowing he's prepared for the apocalypse. Another option (for those who don't want to play Robinson Crusoe) is investing a couple of million dollars into New Zealand's economy (this simplifies the citizenship procedure significantly). Today, when an American millionaire boasts about acquiring a house in Auckland or Wellington, it signifies one thing: the person has secured a backup airstrip.
Understanding millionaires who own properties at the world's edge and have a fueled private plane with a rotating pilot is quite straightforward. What if yet another Capitol Hill siege isn't quelled within a day? Or if the new Black Lives Matter protests spiral out of control? Or if the millions of people left jobless due to artificial intelligence start marching toward Silicon Valley with pitchforks and sickles? Such apprehensions are not far-fetched. For instance, just in the first week after Donald Trump's election, 13,000 Americans registered with New Zealand's immigration agencies (17 times more than usual).
Photo: New Zeland, Source: Freepik
When human madness spills over the edge and something inevitable occurs, the wealthy want the emergency option to escape as far as possible. Similar to how Switzerland once attracted affluent individuals with the promise of financial secrecy, New Zealand now pledges them physical security and maximum distance from all scenarios of world's end, stretching across both sides of the Atlantic. It's not only a self-sufficient nation with its own energy, water, and food resources but also an incredibly beautiful country (recall the landscapes from "The Lord of the Rings"). So, while radioactive clouds, lethal viruses, or any other military, biological, or social plague may reach the distant shores of New Zealand, the wealthy will have a bit of time left to savor the paradise-like scenery and indulge in melancholic reflections about how humanity managed to mess all of this up.