The crisis of our time is a crisis of reproduction.
A crisis of literal reproduction, in that people are struggling to form lasting relationships and have children. Yes, but that is almost beside the point.
The real substance of the crisis is that our way of life is not reproducible on a timescale of generations.
This has happened in the past, but on a more limited scale. For example, shipbuilding in the Liverpool docks dried up, or the mining industry faltered in the North of England. This caused misery and poverty, but for relatively few. The social fallout was contained.
Today, we are seeing this happen for the masses. Much in our contemporary experience is unreproducible; it cannot be handed down.
High housing costs cannot be handed down. Meaningless work cannot be handed down. Lack of community cannot be handed down. Lack of pride cannot be handed down. Uncontrolled greed cannot be handed down.
Much of our experience online cannot be handed down.
Ironically, and understandably, at the point in history when it is most clear that our way of life cannot be sustained, there is a general obsession with ‘sustainability’.
But there is hope in this irony.
As individuals, we understand that we might be living unrepeatable lives. If pushed, we are even able to articulate meaningful practical solutions.
The challenge for younger generations is to turn individual understanding into positive collective change. This may prove difficult at a time when systemic forces seem to weigh against collective efforts.
Yet this crisis should be embraced. The word — ‘crisis’ — comes from the Greek word for decision.
To reach a crisis point means we have the power to decide. It means it is up to us what the future looks like.
It is up to us whether we continue to labour under the unsustainable illusions of the present, or begin to conceive of a future that is truly sustainable, truly reproducible. A future that multiplies.
The crisis of reproduction presents us with an opportunity to effect lasting change.
Long live the crisis.
