In a recent interview, permaculture co-originator David Holmgren referenced how parasitism on the current industrial system is an effective permaculture strategy in the here-and-now, and I found that observation to be intriguing and worthy of further discussion.  Taking that approach is a classic “function stacking” in permaculture, both making use of the “waste” and “castoffs” of the industrial system is an effective strategy for reducing expenses and either reducing environmental impact or increasing regenerative capacity.

Holmgren cited second-hand stores (“opportunity shops” or “op-shops” in his Australian lingo) as a prime example of this.  By buying clothes second-hand permaculture adopters can cut their personal expenses while keeping used clothing out of the landfill and reducing overall demand for new items.  Holmgren himself has lived this way for most of his adult life.  I can also testify that many items that make it to second-hand shops can be higher-end and more durable, based on the heavy Carhartt work shirt my wife found for me at Goodwill for around $7.

Holmgren also mentioned how this piece of advice is often objected to on the grounds that “not everybody can do it.”  He acknowledges that while this is 100% true, it’s equally true that in the current industrial world-that-is there will continue to be conspicuous and compensatory consumption that will feed second-hand stores, and most people of sufficient means will not choose second-hand stores out of a general fear of social stigma from being associated with doing things that “poor people” do.  So if the stores are there now and, barring a complete collapse of industrial society, will be there next year, it is certainly prudent to take advantage of them.

I think there’s another layer of this objection, though, that needs to be explored and pushed back against, and that is the idea that for every kind of big problem there has to be a “one true way” for everyone to follow.  This is one of the primary themes in the books Ishmael, and The Story of B by Daniel Quinn, which I recently read.  Quinn held the view that this outlook couldn’t be more incorrect and that we’ve followed it with disastrous consequences ever since the “beginning of history” that accompanied the rise of large-scale agricultural societies starting around 7,000 years ago.  I think there’s something to that argument, because when we embrace the “one true way” view of the world that has only intensified over those seven millennia, we ignore the reality that humans have existed in a much wider range of cultures and economies over the entirety of our 250,000 years as homo sapiens, let alone if we include the preceding 2.75 million years as hominids.  Those were people who experienced a much wider range of social, economic, and political relationships than the “one true way” we have today.

In most conversations about the serious predicaments we face – biodiversity loss, ecosystem collapse, climate weirding, etc. – I am struck by how much they fall back into this pattern, even among people who should know better based on their accumulated knowledge.  If we have these big problems, then they must require big solutions, amirite?  We need the federal government to institute a program for (problem X).  Addressing climate change means dimming the entire atmosphere with aerosols while sequestering carbon-heavy emissions below ground.  Ecosystem collapse can be fixed with an army of tree planters.  And so on.  While I’m not going to downplay the importance of actions like planting trees or using public policy to blunt gross inequities in society (dimming the sun and underground carbon sequestration are a different matter), what’s always missing in these instances is any acknowledgement of how these things happen socially and culturally, as well as the natural context of an area and its ecosystems.

As my mentor Dave Jacke has said (and I’m paraphrasing not directly quoting), “I don’t want you to resolve to go out and plant trees; I want you to resolve to go out and help regenerate ecosystems.”  The first is just a physical action within the current paradigm that operates according to its dictates – we can continue operating as we are if we just add planting trees to the mix.  The second is a social, economic, and political reordering – putting the well-being of ecosystems first – that turns the existing paradigm on its head.  The difference between the two is significant and important, and it reveals why Bill Mollison often referred to permaculture as “revolution disguised as gardening”.

Holding on to ideas like the “one true way,” or “everyone has to do it,” limits our range of action in terms of what’s currently socially acceptable.  Letting those ideas go opens up the freedom to work within the context of limits and abundance of the physical space you occupy, to rediscover and/or recreate a vernacular culture, and to generally imagine more wide-ranging ways of living that move away from the current industrial system.