Far From the Madding Crowd...

Get out of the cities. You will read that advice in every survival oriented blog. Get out or die. To an extent that is true. I can hardly imagine what the situation would be like in a city like Toronto or New York or London in the case of a major collapse. It would be hell on earth.

But just how reasonable is that bit of advice? The steps that the survival gurus advise usually go more or less like this:

1. Find a secure rural retreat in an isolated area with good water and soil suitable for raising your own food.

2. Give up your city job, and instead relocate to your retreat where you will somehow find work that will allow you to develop your retreat, complete with fortified dwelling and off grid power.

3. Sight in your weapons and wait for the apocalypse. Defend yourself from the hordes of starving city folks.

4. Emerge in the reconstruction as some sort of neo-feudal lord. This is your right, of course, as you are one of the chosen few that followed steps one through three.

Unfortunately, few of us can afford to find and purchase the land for those perfect retreats, and fewer still can afford the development to the standard often advised. And if we all take that advice, it’s going to make for a far more crowded landscape, and a far more expensive one than before.

I’m also wondering where all those jobs are going to come from. We can’t all support ourselves writing survival blogs and writing books about dirt cheap survival retreats. For many people trying to relocate to rural areas, it will mean a sharp drop in income, which makes developing that hidey-hole in the backwoods a lot tougher.

I’m also amused to see that the survival gurus are sure of surviving the hypothetical ‘golden hordes’ that are supposed to come pouring out of the cities. There is the assumption that they will be better armed, better trained, and better positioned than the starving multitudes. Maybe, but let us remember that any retreat, no matter how well defended or positioned is still a static target.

Attackers of retreats will have a lot of advantages. They’re mobile for one, and retreaters are not. It doesn’t matter how much garden you have if you can’t water it without being sniped. Neither can you assume that they will be worse armed or trained than the average retreater. Likely they will not be in the initial stages, but those that survive to continue raiding will be skilled, aggressive ‘professionals’ that are going to be far more dangerous than anticipated. And likely armed as well or better than are their targets.

This doesn’t mean that the rural retreat philosophy is wrong or doomed. It’s just not perfect solution for large numbers of people. Nor are all cities necessarily doomed. Huge concentrations of populations are likely to fail, but there are thousands of villages and small towns and possibly even smallish cities that are likely to survive and possibly even thrive. A lot will depend on the local government and the local population.

So if you can’t afford that million dollar retreat, find an alternative. Consider the likely problems and look for solutions. There is more than one way to be prepared, and more than the simplistic golden horde scenario to prepare for.

In any kind of calamity, those that seem to fare the best and recover the soonest are those groups that pull together and help one another for the common good. Perhaps we should forego thoughts of retreating in splendid isolation to focus on how to survive as families, groups, and communities.

Turtle or Tiger?

Here's a little something for thought:
A number of years ago, I read a science fiction novel called Rite of Passage by Alexei Panshin. It concerned a group of people who lived permanently in space, but sent their young people down to survive on a planet for a few weeks as their ‘rite of passage’ into adulthood. There were two philosophies espoused by those about to undergo this trial: Going ‘turtle’, meaning to hole up, stay as low key as possible, and ride it out. The other was ’Tiger’, meaning to go around, see things, meet people and generally take a few more chances.

Which brings us to today’s topic. Which is your philosophy?
You can turtle up in almost any kind of crisis, from a snowstorm knocking your power out for a day or two all the way up to the good old end of the world scenario. Being a turtle has its advantages. If you withdraw, you can conserve resources, minimize risk to yourself, and let others take chances that might benefit you in the long run. Your exposure to almost every kind of risk is minimized

The downside is that you won’t see other turtles rushing to the aid of one that is attacked. Turtles just don’t have that much of a support network.

Being a tiger can also be advantageous. If you’re out in the world helping your community, you will make friends that will come to your aid, make contacts to barter skills and materials, and be far more aware of the overall situation than the turtle next door, which can be of decisive importance.

You’ll be taking far more risks, however. Giving a little help, in the form of food, water or labour can arouse bad feelings or make you the target of the envious or merely larcenous. It shouldn’t, but people in a crisis are not rational beings. Any kind of exposure in a crisis can be bad, although not always.

Or you might decide on a third strategy, perhaps a blend of the two, or an entirely different approach altogether. (Though at the moment I can’t think of one…)
It might seem trivial, but knowing how you plan to conduct yourself in a variety of crises has a bearing not only on what you acquire, but how you plan to employ it. So do me a favour: On your bus ride home tonight, give some thought to which approach better suits you, and plan accordingly.

Original posted at Manitoba Preppers Network on April 16/2010