As organisms who occupy an ecosystem, albeit a strange ecosystem of stores and credit cards, we fall into the natural pattern of prioritizing our needs around immediate experiences. When we have more things, we feel rich. When we have fewer things, we feel poor.
This is paradoxically juxtaposed against the reality of a world in which the things we own are simply being shifted from one place to another, at the cost of debts (monetary, ecological, or psychological). When the ore is in the ground, it isn't added to our ledger. When we make it into a set of silverware, we own it, and it contributes to our wealth. But every chunk of ore we use for silverware has come at an opportunity cost of all the other things we could have done with that ore, so in a sense we are really poorer. The clock of entropy has ticked, and is one turn closer to unwinding.
The tendency to value goods in proximity has created an illusion of wealth that colors our perceptions of reality. Here is Lionel Basney, writing in 1986:
What does the store teach us about food? First, and most obviously, that there is plenty of it - that the selves will always be full. This is, in one sense, a blessing beyond reckoning, but it has a profound unconscious effect on us. This flood of food, these aisles full of enough and too much, are as much a cultural symbol as the fact that "good" restaurants always serve you more than you can eat. Both examples of excess keep us from remembering that food is grown in limited quantities - so many acres, so many ears of corn. The drive to surround ourselves with excess comes in part from the fear of scarcity - a universal fear that has shaped more history than have kings or wars.
The daily experience of abundance makes us (as Americans) believe that it is simply the way the world ought to work, the way the world will always work. It is the default, and it is deviations from abundance that require precise explanations. If Zimbabwe would get rid of Mugabe, they would share abundance. If the Soviet Union had embraced capitalism sooner, it would have never suffered a decade of empty shelves as it collapsed. Everyone could be rich, if they simply emulated us, since we exemplify the most natural condition of human society.
A similar fallacy drives the movement toward universal college education. People with college degrees are richer than people without them, goes the theory, so that means if we all went to college, we would all be rich. But of course the job market doesn't work like that. In reality, there are a finite number of jobs that pay well, and producing twice as many English majors would just result in twice as many English majors working as waiters at restaurants. No one really needs college degrees to work in the sort of occupations that have enjoyed robust growth over the last few decades (mostly in the service sector), so instead the experience of rising college graduation rates creates 1) debt for those who do participate in the system, and 2) an arbitrary barrier to progress for those who don't (mostly immigrants and minorities). What started as an option to get ahead has now become a requirement not to fall behind.
Even when the evidence stares us in the face, we still trust immediate experience over the data. Whenever I tell people that the world is facing an agricultural crisis, I get ignored, or people make some gentle jokes at my expense: "Look how full the supermarket shelves are. That's real! Your theories are just numbers on paper." The numbers seem silly when at every hour people are wheeling carts full of frozen pizzas into the parking lot. It's hard to care about numbers until they become something that matters to us, like the subjective feeling of being hungry. Our minds are programmed to respond to experiences, rather than to numbers.
Here are the numbers, for anyone who cares. From the Potash Corp of Saskatchewan:
A year ago, concerns over world food shortages were headline news
and little has changed to alleviate the pressure on food supply. The
world's population continues to grow. Economies in countries like China
and India, although not as robust, keep expanding giving their people
more money to spend on food. At the same time, global grain inventories
remain historically tight.
This was brought to the forefront again earlier this week as G8
officials called for increasing public and private investment in
agriculture citing growing concerns over the global food supply. A
dangerous game is now unfolding around the world. Fertilizer
applications are being reduced at unprecedented levels, with our
estimates for North American potash applications falling as much as 30%
to 35%, phosphate by 20% to 25% and nitrogen by 5% to 10%.
To put this in context, U.S. applications this fertilizer year are
expected to be similar in total volume to the 1983 pick year while
farmers now need to generate 90% more production than in 1983 and will
plant 25 million additional acres of corn, the most fertilizer
intensive crop in the U.S. Clearly, nutrient replenishment will suffer.
This level of reduction has never been seen before. No one can state
precisely what the impact will be on the world's food supply
immediately or over the longer term, but we know with scientific
certainty that nutrient under application damages both crop yields and
quality.
Why does this not attract concern? Because we see proximate causes, and not ultimate ones. We attribute causality to the credit system, when the credit system is only a parasite of the material economy. And we'll continue that pattern of behavior all the way down to the bottom of the cliff. Twenty years from now, when we've gone through the same upheaval as the Soviet Union, we'll still be arguing over whether a different fiscal policy could have changed the outcome. We'll still see oil in the ground, and not really understand why it's no longer profitable to pump it to the surface. We'll see farmland lying fallow, and not really understand why a billion people are starving to death.
We think that supermarkets are a source of food, and if you run low on food, you solve that problem by building more supermarkers.
Edit: Immediately after I posted this, I discovered that Rod Dreher's blog posted the exact same quote, from the exact same article! So why don't I get his traffic?