How to: Solitude during collapse

A hybrid approach to maintaining mental space

People choose solitude when the cost of belonging exceeds the benefit of cooperation. For the collapse-aware, this calculation stems from a realization that the modern social contract is anchored to a sinking ship.

Staying within the system requires a daily performance of normalcy that feels like a lie. Leaving the system, yet remaining tethered to people who still believe in it, creates a friction that burns through mental energy.

Those entrenched in normalcy bias often view collapse awareness as a pathology. To avoid constant gaslighting or the burden of carrying others' denial, the aware individual steps away.

Yet, community-building remains an integral part of managing collapse. The common argument for community centers on survival. A group provides a labor force and constant security.

However, this assumes that the people in the group are reliable. In reality, groups introduce internal risks like theft, betrayal, and incompetence.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

A solo person has a smaller physical footprint. They consume fewer calories and leave less evidence of their presence. In a scenario of systemic decline, being invisible is often a better defense than being fortified. Solitude eliminates the need for consensus, allowing for instant movement and adaptation.

There is a frequent conflation between solitude and independence. Independence is the ability to provide for oneself; solitude is the state of being alone. One can be independent while living in a city, and one can be in solitude while remaining entirely dependent on a dying system for supplies. True independence requires a wide array of skills, whereas solitude is merely a spatial and social arrangement.

The distinction between a hermit and a solitary person lies in the relationship with the outside world. A hermit typically retreats for spiritual reasons, cutting off all ties. Solitude, in the context of collapse awareness, is a tactical choice. A solitary person remains an observer, gathering information and maintaining tools to interact with the world when the benefits outweigh the risks.

Physiological and mental trade-offs are significant. Solitude lowers cortisol levels by removing social conflict and the stress of managing others' expectations. It provides a clarity of mind that is difficult to achieve in a crowd. However, the human brain requires social feedback. Without external verification, an individual can drift into obsessive thought patterns or paranoia. The brain can treat minor internal anxieties as major external threats. Chronic loneliness triggers a sustained inflammatory response, which can accelerate cognitive decline and weaken the immune system. The absence of touch and verbal exchange leads to hyper-vigilance where the mind never rests, eventually leading to burnout.

Physically, the greatest risk is a minor injury becoming fatal. A broken leg is a manageable event for a duo but a death sentence for a lone actor.

A hybrid strategy addresses these risks by creating a network of solitary individuals. This decentralized community involves people living independently while maintaining functional ties. Unlike a traditional commune, this network relies on distance as a buffer. Members might trade skills via drop points or scheduled check-ins without the obligation of shared living. This model provides the security of a collective without the interpersonal friction of shared space.

It is also possible to remain solitary within a larger community without appearing anti-social by framing the behavior as personal discipline. This involves setting clear boundaries regarding time. One can participate in essential functions (e.g. local governance or maintenance) while opting out of high-friction social engagements. By being consistently helpful but socially brief, an individual gains a reputation for being reliable rather than reclusive. This preserves the benefits of a group while maintaining psychological autonomy.

While soing this, one must reconcile the need for a network with the reality that most people remain trapped in normalcy bias.

Finding a group of like-minded collapse-aware individuals is often impossible. However, a functional network does not require shared ideology; it only requires shared interests or mutual dependencies. One can build a distant community by connecting with people who possess tangible skills or trades without discussing systemic decline. In these cases, the bond is transactional or based on a common hobby. A solitary person can be a member of a local gardening club, a radio group, or a volunteer fire department. These people do not need to be aware to be useful.

By engaging on the basis of skill rather than philosophy, a soloist avoids the friction of debating the future while securing a place within a web of capable individuals.

To maintain this network, a soloist focuses on low-frequency, high-value interactions. Interactions revolve around a purpose that aids your objectives. Furthermore, establishing a mutual aid agreement with a few trusted neighbors (where the agreement is limited to specific emergencies) creates a functional bond that does not require friendship.

After deciding on a solitary path, the priority is redundancy. Since there is no partner to provide backup, every critical system or network connection must have a secondary fail-safe. It's better to have 3 carpenters in your network than one.

Critically, regardless of one's network, self-reliance remains a cornerstone to living in any form of solitude. Skills development today will benefit you in the future.

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