All social change is ultimately biological change. We present a framework, called an alliance of phenotypes, for thinking concretely about societies in this way. It involves a ten-item trait inventory called RAMBO-BAMBI, which is intended to bring relevant variables out of the hazy periphery of consciousness and into explicit focus. In other words, it is a way of telling more complex stories about the world than we frequently do. We use two events, which occurred on successive nights, to illustrate the diversity of initiatives that emerge from this way of thinking. One event featured the Survival Ecology presentation from last episode; the other is best described as punk rock revival preaching. The Survival Ecology research will be used in communications appealing to one population's psychological needs for security and stability. The preaching was intended to bring out a different group of people's best, and wildest, selves. We use this as a minimal illustration of fluidly transitioning between modes of being, to best engage different political personalities in different ways. 

What would a truly resource-minimum, viable human ecology—viable in the sense that we are fed, warm, and dry—look like? What proportion of the current system is useless economic activity, and what proportion is useless economic activity entangled with legitimate human need? Environmental policy documents don't answer these questions, but they do provide information that helps us to craft a vision. Utilizing Oregon's consumption-based greenhouse gas inventory—which looks at all energy use to meet in-state consumption, regardless of where that energy use occurs—we throw out some numbers. We estimate that less than 5% of current economy activity is essential. A very significant proportion of that is wrapped up in heating, cooling, and cooking. We then examine ways to meet these basic human needs. Having a concrete vision of this nature allows us to contemplate rapid shifts, whether out of a conscious choice to stop destroying the world or because the global economy ceases to function. 

Those of us who understand the world cannot exercise power, while those who exercise power cannot understand the world. We have all fractured, but in different ways. Weaving together recent papers on the psychological correlates of scientific divisions, we ask: Why are lawyers and business majors so over-represented in elected offices? Why are engineers 17 times more likely to engage in authoritarian political violence than would be expected from their presence in the population? Why are social sciences majors so much more likely to participate in egalitarian political violence? We examine three psychologies, with correlated social role specializations and approaches to knowledge. We use the academy to illustrate these psychologies, calling them Technics, Science, and Literary Experiments. We then ask what the adventure of becoming more integrated beings looks like. In the process, we discover how conscious awareness of the multiple selves we contain characterizes both psychosis and the mystical experience—that the distinction is less one of logical structure than emotional tone. To overcome our fracture, we must become able to confront the strangeness of being a single body that contains many selves. 

We celebrate the following three things: One, the animist revival currently sweeping the land. Two, a completed book with a tangible publication trajectory. Three, the form of ceremony, with all its diverse manifestations in various cultures, usually simply called shaking, as explicated in Bradford Keeney's book Shaking Medicine: The Healing Power of Ecstatic Movement. We contrast this type of ceremony with a set of tendencies described by Louis Sass in his brilliant work Madness and Modernism: Insanity in the Light of Modern Art, Literature, and Thought. Sass argues that schizophrenia is a limit case—the most extreme manifestation of—perceptual changes experienced by all industrialized peoples. While its manifestations are extremely diverse, he claims the shared foundations of these perceptual changes are social disconnection, lack of agency, and loss of direct immersion in experience, in favor of analyzing experience—a turning of attention to attention itself. We examine how industrialization caused a steep decline in the ritual traditions of rural Europe, and a simultaneous building boom in psychiatric hospitals. If we know the world in three phases—intuition, analysis, and integration of the two—perhaps we can think of pre-modern politics, with qualifications, as the intuitive, and the modern, “scientific” conception of politics as the analytical. All that's left is the synthesis: a return to our bodies and shared reality, with all the wisdom we have gained in the first two phases. 

Sometimes, we just have to stop fighting and ask if it's really worth it. Or wait: I guess we won't know unless we fight. In this episode, we briefly touch on the emotional reality of confronting the 212th phase of the apocalypse, and the horrifying truth that it's worse, in some ways, than the 211th phase was. Then, we examine the bewildering combination of crisis and opportunity presented by our dark overlords being even more crazy and stupid than they used to be. We touch on the perils of trying to apply the past to the present, the ways the federal government is becoming like the Coalition Provisional Authority in post-invasion Iraq, and examine how dynastic power becomes even more impulsive and incoherent as the generations progress. Throughout it all, we think about the difference between stories born solely of emotional need and stories born of assessing as many relevant variables we can find. 

On four consecutive Sundays, beginning April 27, Arnold will teach some of the fundamentals of revolutionary biology. Classes take part in Kenilworth Park, in Portland, OR, from 6-8pm. Much of this will be summary of material covered in podcasts, but there will also be some novelties that are specific to this place and the actions we might take in it. 

This episode returns to the question of how to escape the freeze response so many of us are having to the world's many horrors. We live in stories, but we don't necessarily acknowledge that we do. What happens when we consciously embrace this aspect of our psychology, and seriously ask ourselves: what story are we in? We introduce a still-developing paradigm called Storyfinding: a process of successively iterating new stories out of the same sets of facts. It involves storytelling, but also inhabiting the story one tells. One creates a script of some kind and physically acts it out, assessing one's response, and veers into a different, connected story as many times as necessary. Arnold describes a remarkable transformation experienced in the process of making a movie about Storyfinding. While elements of the process are not yet entirely clear, this experience indicates it may help people understand the stories they have been telling themselves, and decide what story about the future they want to be in.

Is it a coincidence that the authoritarian system currently being imposed is fundamentally an outgrowth of religion? And what does that mean? Is religion inherently concerned with the “supernatural,” or is it an organized way to access collective meaning and purpose? In this episode, we examine what religion gives a political movement it otherwise tends to lack: a way of generating cohesion and low-level mobilization that is more enduring than any particular project, campaign, or strategy. And we examine a particular practice—the identification of particular trees as the living axis of a community—as a conceivable answer to a host of interrelated strategic questions: How do we find each other outside the death spiral of social media? How do we generate the open-ended possibilities of a long-term action camp or occupation? What can people do that requires relatively little time or effort, but helps create a framework for the coordination of many diverse actions? While unabashedly embracing reverence for life, this episode is a concrete strategic analysis culminating in a clear call to action. 

The fog of collective resignation we are stumbling through has changed the stories we tell. As we perceive, with increasingly painful clarity, that our society cannot resolve the catastrophes it produces, we enter an era of aimless narrative drift. Atmospheric carbon dioxide accumulates in proportion to Mission Impossible sequels. Stories are losing their vitality because, no matter how many cars explode in them, they fail to describe a path away from our depression, disconnection, precariousness, and loss of shared meaning. In this episode, we ask whether a new mythology might arise from our current mire, and what its characteristics might be. Along the way, we examine the human penchant for hallucinating and dreaming about insects that control reality, the psychology of the outsider, the cross-species biology of adolescent dispersal from the birth group, why there are so few movies about healing from trauma, how embodied experience generates insights independent of any information it provides, and the 19th century Russian novel that arguably created more revolutionaries than any non-fiction.

Now that the first book deriving from this podcast is complete, it feels less ridiculous to say it. The purpose of this project has always been to create a truly new political tendency, as different from any extant one—arguably more so—than, say, monarchism is from liberalism, or liberalism from anarchism. The distinction, as Arnold argues in Revolutionary Biology: Embodied Politics for Global Survival is biological coherence. The misconception that biology implies a lack of plasticity is present, in one form or another, in all our existing politics. This manifests in its outright rejection in some traditions; in others, it manifests in arguments about what human social behavior is “really” like. What is lacking, in every case, is an understanding that every human potential has an underlying biology, which we must understand in order to affect which potentials manifest. This is the essence of embodied politics. In this episode, we briefly examine the path to this book's completion, hear the first chapter, “The World Is Dying and So Are Our Stories about Saving It,” and get an update on future projects emerging from Fight Like An Animal and the World Tree Center for Evolutionary Politics. 

Arnold talks with David of Feun Foo Permaculture and Rewiliding and An Animist's Ramblings. An anarcho-primitivist, David has been making a case for expanding the cultures this political tendency uses as models for life outside civilization. Feun Foo is an experiment in adapting, to the modern context, practices of small-scale, forest-dwelling cultivation which have enabled a great diversity of societies—from highland Southeast Asia to the Amazon—to live in ecological equilibrium. An Animist's Ramblings is a blog which, among other things, advocates for taking political lessons from small-scale horticulturalists and delayed-return hunter-gatherers. 
 
Primitivism has often faltered for its lack of clear answers to the question: “knowing what we know, how should we live?” David is helping to guide these politics into a more applied, experimental, and fluid manifestation. We speak of the multi-dimensional nature of domestication; the awe-inspiring visits of elephants to Feun Foo; the personality variation of chickens; the strange and varied diet one ends up adopting subsisting off the land; and the need for a unified sense of identity among those who have rejected the mechanistic worldview, regardless of precisely how that identity manifests politically.