Betting Against Humanity
Survivalists have long perplexed me. They have these bunkers full of non-perishable foods, supplies, tools, etc. And weapons and ammo so they can fend off the desperate, post-apocalyptic hordes.
Why do they do that? If I thought that civilization was going to collapse to that degree, I think maybe I wouldn’t want to be alive when it happened. To have lived my whole life in this plush, technologically advanced civilization, then suddenly have to fight just to survive, and live in a little concrete bunker eating canned beans or something? That would be almost as bad as being in prison. What kind of life is that? One worth living? Not really.
So why would I bother to prepare for such an event? Why would I expend substantial money, effort, and time preparing to live that way? Why not spend that money, effort, and time on something I actually like? Bet that apocalypse won’t happen, and if it does, then say, “Hey, I enjoyed living in human society when it was enjoyable to do so. Now it’s over.” And just check out?
Being Important
I think the answer is that most survivalists don’t want to be alive now. They want a world in which they are important. (Just like everybody else does.) A world in which they are exceptional and successful. And these particular people can’t really see any way that that’s gonna happen other than this one. They’re hoping a society-wrecking disaster happens, so they can be somebody.
The idea that no such disaster is going to occur is an idea that these people find depressing. Because if that’s the truth, then the only way to be exceptional is to perform some exceptional action in normal human society. And these people just aren’t very exceptional. They’re pretty average, or even sub-average. And they don’t want to be. Believing in a scenario in which they have a good chance of being exceptional somebodies is critical to the maintenance of their self-esteem.
A couple other variants on this theme:
The religious moralists who believe that successful, exceptional people will scream in agony forever in hell, while the meek nobodies of this world will be rewarded for their mediocrity — I mean, modesty — with infinite bliss.
The “atomic scientists” who warn of the constant danger of nuclear armageddon. These guys typically don’t build bunkers — they just posture as wise harbingers of a message that supersedes in importance anything anyone else is doing. If we’re all likely to be vaporized sometime in the next several months, then who’s more important: A designer at Apple, who builds products and software platforms intended to delight people for years, even generations, to come? The author of a quality app for that platform? Or an atomic scientist who’s warning us all that we need to direct more of our effort toward preventing the vaporization of humanity?
These people all have one thing in common. They don’t see themselves as particularly notable or attractive within the greater context of humanity, and they yearn to be, so they find solace in betting against humanity. Rest assured: If any one of these individuals suddenly found a way to be highly successful tomorrow (within the context of normal human society), their sky-is-falling plans and prophecies would quickly become quite muted.

