Writing

Review of The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight: Waking Up to Personal and Global Transformation by Thom Hartmann

Introduction

There is a common attitude among “people of conscience” that all we need to do to change the world is educate ourselves about the problems and really, really care about solving them. This attitude confuses desire with effort, lifestyle choices with political statements, and moralistic preaching with useful action. It is largely ego-driven, and fits very nicely into the isolationist culture we’re so adamant about changing. Those who espouse this attitude are often bewildered that their well-intentioned behaviour alienates the mainstream, who sees their actions as childish, self-indulgent, and futile.

Reading this book, I experienced a deep sense of frustration in seeing this attitude replayed. My “learning edge” is in finding the balance between inner and outer work, and I first approached this book in hopes of developing that balance. Instead, I rediscovered many issues that have arisen for me in the past, and seem to plague “progressive” discourse. As such, I aim my review at Utne Reader, a left-leaning magazine with an audience largely comprised of white, middle-class feminists and other “people of conscience.” These are the people who need to understand the difference between seeing the problems and working on the solutions; waking up to personal transformation and instigating global transformation.


Review

Hartmann builds a solid framework around the image of sunlight, drawing together a wide range of disciplines to examine how we are “living beyond our means” (9) by depleting the earth’s supply of fossil fuels, or “ancient sunlight.” He outlines basic ecological processes, such as the role of trees in soil production and the importance of biodiversity, then discusses how humans have historically harnessed the sun’s power for their livelihood, from short-term use of plant materials and animal power, through the development of agriculture, empire, and slavery, to industrialization and our addictive dependence on oil and coal. As “ancient sunlight” has increasingly met our needs for fuel and raw materials, more and more land has become available for agriculture and cities, creating a population explosion. By drawing parallels with empires of the past and “Ponzi schemes” where dividends are paid from new investment until the moment of collapse, he predicts a global crisis when fossil fuels begin to run out.

After summarizing the brewing physical and social problems, he goes on to examine the cultural reasons behind these problems. He differentiates between “older” (i.e. tribal) cultures and “younger” (i.e. industrial) cultures, linking the stories we tell ourselves with the way we live in the world. In particular, he problematises our culture’s basic doctrines of disconnection from nature and other humans, which legitimises war, injustice, ecological destruction, and the host of other evils that plague us. He brings up the stories of “older” cultures as examples of worldviews that underpin sustainable lifestyles. From this contrast, he proposes that we cannot reverse the impending ecological and social collapse without changing the way we see the world. He points out that “it’s not humankind that is killing Earth. It’s the consequence of the stories of a now-dominant group of humankind.” (131) Further, “culture is not about what is absolute, real, or true. It’s about what a group of people get together and agree to believe.” (141)

Hartmann’s outline of the problems and their root causes is excellent: clear, succinct, easy to understand, and alarming without being alarmist. However, his suggestions for solutions were disappointing. Aside from a few mentions of seeking to end war, empower women, and use fossil fuels to build sustainable infrastructures, the main model Hartmann recommends is intentional community:

there is a growing trend among conscious people toward moving to places where there is enough dirt around the house to grow some of your own food, and enough trees to renewably harvest wood for heating… Living more delicately on the Earth, many people are now choosing to live as a local family tribe [or join other ‘tribes’ in intentional communities].” (275-76)

Not only is this model overly idealistic and impractical for use on a large scale, it is extremely privileged. Even in “developed” countries, work and affordable housing is concentrated in urban areas, and most people’s time and energy is directed at getting by, not thinking about living “delicately.” The trend of “conscious people” moving to the countryside represents a further divide between the haves and the have-nots, allowing the dangerous sense that a real difference is being made. A similar problematic vein flows through the work of authors such as Daniel Quinn and John Zerzan, who idealize tribal cultures and seek a wholesale rejection of civilization. Unfortunately, choosing to reject civilization does not necessarily transform it, and such rejection is not often an option for the oppressed.

Besides advocating intentional communities, Hartmann focuses largely on an inward-facing approach to changing the world. He encourages readers to take up meditation practice and become more present, mindful, and aware in their daily lives, suggesting that connection with the sacred is the most effective vehicle to change the world. Indeed, “the way we react to the world around us… is based on the stories we tell ourselves about ‘reality,’” (240) but changing that reality is not accomplished by only changing the stories. Thought does not necessarily lead to action if material and social structures for action are absent. Ancient Sunlight is an outstanding book about personal transformation, but it is sorely lacking in substance on global transformation – indeed, its philosophy may even hinder large-scale change.

Hartmann writes, “this seemingly very personal work [meditation] is actually among the most important works we can do to save the world.” (228) I see in this statement one of the stories privileged people tell themselves to avoid doing useful work of change. Individually being “present” or “enlightened” does not provide alternative structures to heal the physical damage we’re inflicting on the planet and other people, but focusing on inner work can distract from looking at that damage and feeling guilty about it. Furthermore, the sense that most world-changing work will happen inside our heads reflects a middle-class worldview where valuable work does not dirty one’s hands. This book is clearly aimed at an educated audience, and perpetuates the myth that change will arise effortlessly, if we can somehow become “better” human beings. This myth has the dual effect of placating the guilt of “conscious people,” while allowing the blame to fall on “bad” people who aren’t working on their own enlightenment. Almost as dangerous as these value judgements is the underlying assumption that the change will be easy. Hartmann even writes, “your life will easily and naturally change, bringing about the new ways of living which are now necessary.” I would argue that the pursuit of ease has led to many of our problems, therefore other ideals would be more appropriate in crafting solutions.

Inner work is of course a necessary step in changing the world. However, Hartmann seems to believe it is the only necessary step: “we can see the essential insanity of the wétiko dominator lifestyle, and when enough people figure this out, we will turn around on the destructive road humanity is now following.” (216) This is overly optimistic. Certainly, an understanding of the problem is necessary to build solutions, but understanding the problem is not the solution in and of itself.