John M. Gerber: A new sense of neighborliness
What will you do when the lights go out again?
A story that was missing from among the many news articles following the pre-Halloween snowstorm happened in my basement, where neighbors gathered each evening for dinner cooked on a wood stove. We drank tea and talked about how this event felt like the beginning of a new normal in which power outages, fuel shortages and periods in which some foods simply wont be available will be commonplace.
Just consider peak oil if something can run out, it will run out. What about global climate change? I dont know about you, but it hardly seems normal when western Massachusetts experiences a hurricane, a tornado, tremors from an earthquake and a major snowstorm in October in the same year.
So yes, I confess to be worried and Ive done a little preparation for a time when the electricity might shut off for a few days. My wife and I (OK, mostly me she thinks Im a little nuts) have invested in a big garden, solar hot water, a wood stove, an alcohol cook stove, a small generator, oil lamps, efficient hand-cranked flashlights, a water filter and rain barrel, a chainsaw, a portable toilet, and of course chickens we have fresh eggs when the stores are closed.
So, what happened when the lights went out at my house?
Well, we werent prepared for a snowstorm in October. When the lights turned off, I went out to the garage, pulled out the generator and realized we didnt have enough gasoline to get through the night. We went around the neighborhood and siphoned gasoline (with permission) from lawnmowers that wouldnt be used until next summer. We had lights!
The generator provided just enough electricity to keep the freezer humming along. The refrigerator was next and then a few lamps to read by. The first neighbor who showed up heard the generator and asked to put a few things in the freezer.The next neighbor wanted to take a shower (the sun was shining and the solar system was making hot water). And then folks began stopping byjust to get warm and charge their cell phones.
We served breakfast each morning of our backyard eggs. A few family members and neighbors spent the night. We even provided Internet service (I have no idea why it was working). My wife and I enjoyed being able to help a few friends simply be a bit more comfortable. And then the lights came back on!
So, what did we learn?
Well, perhaps a few more of us might want to be prepared for the next time the lights go out. Thats pretty obvious.
But what about the deeper meaning? For me, it was about neighborliness. Frankly, I really liked having friends and neighbors stopping in, unannounced. Nobody has stopped by since the lights came back on. I miss them.
What else? I noticed how difficult it was for friends and even family to ask for help. Hyper-individualism will literally kill us if we dont learn to depend more on each other. Maybe we should practice asking for help before the lights go out again. How about sharing a snowblower among a few families? Do we all need a 40-foot extension ladder? But sharing tools is the easy part its difficult to borrow a ladder when you dont know your neighbors first name.
Last fall I joined with a group of Amherst residents involved in the Transition Towns movement to think about how we might be better prepared for the pain and confusion of the coming crisis. While I had purchased some hand tools, we also need emotional tools like mindfulness meditation, dialogue and storytelling. At least we might want to get to know our neighbors a little better. When things get really bad, it wont be enough to be able to siphon a little gas from your neighbors lawnmower.
As the impact of peak oil, climate change and economic stress accelerate, we may learn that growing food, finding clean water and providing heat will be among the easier transitions. More difficult, perhaps, may be learning to communicate effectively while we are hungry, to barter and trade with our neighbors and to support each other as things we take for granted slowly disappear.
Thomas Malthus wrote in 1798: The mighty law of self-preservation expels all the softer and more exalted emotions of the soul. He predicted chaos in response to what he called the chilling breath of want.
If we are to survive the coming chaos, well need to prepare both our homes and gardens as well as our souls for a new and much harsher world. But perhaps in the pain and despair, well rediscover what it means to be a human being living in community.
So what will you do when the lights go out (again)?
John M. Gerber is a professor of sustainable food and farming at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.








