How is America going to end?
That was the controversial question Josh Levin, a senior editor at Slate, took up in his seven-part series this summer chronicling the threats that could topple the United States government, or at least make a future nation under the Stars and Stripes unrecognizable to most of us.
The predictions ranged from the ordinary, like how rapid climate change could lead us to trade liberty for safety and accept dictatorship, to the curiously bizarre. Drawing from the 1960 novel “A Canticle for Leibowitz,” Levin predicted a Mormon-led state could preserve American values long after the United States ceases to exist, much like the Catholic Church preserved some of the elements of Western Civilization after the fall of the Roman Empire.
What was remarkable about Levin’s series was not its subject—predicting catastrophe is a continually popular theme in literature and journalism—but the subtlety of its analysis. Many of Levin’s predictions deal with how small problems or changes in the near future could potentially snowball in the long run. Levin’s more mundane focus differs drastically from Hollywood’s preference for existential threats, like asteroids, nuclear war and environmental failure à la “Deep Impact” and the soon-to-be-released “2012.”
In film—and even in journalism—we tend to fixate on threats beyond our control that have a low probability of occurring but have grave consequences. There’s something curiously attractive about them.
Even though I’m more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash, my heart doesn’t skip a beat when someone cuts me off in traffic. But it does when I’m on a plane in the midst of turbulence.
In a plane, engine failure is unlikely, but if it does happen I’ll probably die. In a car crash, I’m likely to be hurt but my chances of survival are higher.
I know my fear is irrational, but I still have difficulty overcoming it. That’s the way I imagine most people feel.
We live in a world where there are some potentially catastrophic events, threats involving improbable but certain death, much like plane crashes. But there are far more threats that could change our lives forever while not necessarily ending them, much like car crashes.
This is a column dedicated to examining political, social and environmental threats that are the equivalent of car crashes. If they come to bear, they won’t lead to the end of the world, but they might change our lives irreparably so that many of the things Americans value—like political freedom and a continually improving standard of living—no longer exist.
The goal of this column, then, is to fast forward 20 years, imagine what kind of world we might live in when we are adults and anticipate what some of the greatest challenges of our generation will be and how we might meet them.
Every two weeks, I’ll focus on a different danger, how it will particularly affect our generation and what we might do now and in the future to avert it.
As Duke students, many of us are likely to be among the wealthiest and best educated people in the United States. That’s not a pat on the back but a demographic fact.
Whatever crises happen in the future it’s likely we’ll have the resources and status to protect ourselves from them. Whether we take responsibility for the nation’s and the world’s problems or retreat into gated communities is up to us.
One good thing about this recession is that it’s given us an opportunity to think critically about the world’s problems with a long view toward the future. Let’s use it.
Admittedly, this is a somewhat pretentious project. I’m not an expert and I know it. That’s why I want to solicit as much input as I can from you. Attached to the online version of this column you’ll find a specialized comment box for submitting potential topics.
Let me, and the entire Duke community, know what you think our greatest challenges will be.
Yousef AbuGharbieh is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Wednesday.
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