The Doomsayers Who Cry "Wolf"

A friend of mine recently wondered why nobody takes "preppers" seriously.  I thought about it. I know I don't take most of them seriously.  My friend is an exception. He lives out in the woods, off a dirt road in an area that has a low population and lot of seasonal residents. So it's last on the priority list for the utility crews and the snowplows. It's not uncommon for him to lose the electrical grid for days on end, or to be cut off from the main roads. So he made sure he has some electricity from a solar panel array, and ha woodstove that can heat the house or cook a meal, and he always has some dry food stored. He considers himself a prepper, but I say he's just embraced the reality of his situation.

We don't make fun of the guy with a generator or a few gallons of bottled water. If your road floods twice a year, maybe you want to own a boat.

The guys we laugh at are the ones who have a bomb shelter. They guys who stockpiled 9 mm ammo after Obama won the election so that you couldn't get it in stores. The guys who bury a box of gold in the backyard.

Why do we laugh at the "Doomsday Preppers?" Why don't we take people seriously when they warn of the coming apocalypse?

Because we've gotten used to them.

There is always somebody screaming that the world will end. And it never does.

The millennium, the plague, the Mongol invasion, the rise of Fascism, of communism, the Cold War, the UN, going off the Gold Standard, Electing a Catholic president, missiles in Cuba, the energy crisis (pick one), the Y2K crisis,  weapons of Mass Destruction, electing a black president, the mortgage bubble, global warming.

We've grown numb to the cries. Everything else has proven survivable, so this next thing will be too.

Yes, there are dangers on the horizon. Many of the things I mentioned above had real potential to cause havoc, bring down the established order. Not many did. Sure, people suffered, but some people will always be getting it in the neck somewhere, and if it's not you or anyone you know, it's hard to get worked up. Sometimes, maybe we should worry, but they've become like a car alarm. Nobody looks up or calls the police when they hear a car alarm. they complain about the noise.

The average person worries about working to keep the family fed and sheltered, and wants to enjoy their few precious free moments, not spend them fretting about an apocalypse that has never returned a phone call. 

So, being busy, being jaded at the consistent ability of doomsayers to be dead wrong. That's understandable. But we do sometimes get worked up about a waning. If the weather guy on channel 4 says it will snow, everyone in the state has to run to the store for milk and bread. Why does he warrant a listen, make us look up from or lives of quiet desperation, but not the guy who warns of an impending fiat currency collapse? Both of them are probably overstating it for the ratings.

Well, it comes down to perceived legitimacy. If the President says terrorists have weapons of mass destruction, we think, since he has advisors and an intelligence agency and a foreign service and all, maybe he knows something. Turns out that's really not a good call, but it makes sense.

If you own no clothing that isn't camouflaged and have a beard like an Old Testament prophet, nobody's going to listen. If your friends are still in debt from all the Ramen Noodles and peanut butter you convinced them to buy for Y2K, they've stopped listening. I'm pretty sure Noah's neighbors saw him working on the Ark and pretended not to be home when he knocked on the door asking if he could borrow a male and a female scorpion.

And if your preps involve a defensible island fortress to hold off the UN invasion when the come for your handguns, just realize that when you have your heart attack brought on by a steady diet of MREs and stress about black helicopters, the Mooseknuckle Notch Volunteer Ambulance takes a long time to get there. And they've seen two heart attacks this year. It's been busy.

So, yeah, that's funny.

Maybe they'll be laughing at me when I am clawing at the shelter door begging for  some radiation sickness pills. But my money's on the guy who lives in the city, surrounded by leftists and minorities and world class hospitals.