Statistically about average; factually, distressing

An uncle died on Saturday. He was 85.



My uncle Roy breathing
life into his bagpipes.

Considered dispassionately and looked at in a purely analytic way that was about right, rather a little above the average for Australian men.

Irony however abounds, for that same day I had received an update about a family reunion of which my uncle would have had a pivotal role for, until his death, was one of four siblings from the family of seven still alive.

As a young boy all my uncles seemed invincible; big, strong and resourceful men and my aunties, women equally strong, resourceful and wonderfully tactful and tenacious.

Time erodes all qualities making even the perfect dysfunctional and a death such as that on Saturday triggers thoughts of personal mortality.

Like all people, uncles fill the whole spectrum of passions, behaviours and personalities from less than pleasant to excellent and conscious of how many glorify the dead and although eager to avoid that, “excellent” clearly dominates my thinking.

My uncle was at times a serious man, although not someone I had ever seen angry or negative, I am sure he had been both, but he loved to laugh and did so with enthusiasm.

He appeared at first glance a contradictory fellow living and working as a farmer with an attachment to many of the earthy fundamentals of life and yet enjoying the subtleties of music delighting and entertaining many with his saxophone or stirring the blood as he stood in his kilt breathing life into his bagpipes.

A sheep dog at work.

Beyond that he inherently grasped of the mysteries of how a dog can be encouraged to yard sheep and subsequently trained many champions.

Although not implicated intimately in my life, he was, in a distracted sense, something of a mentor as I almost unknowingly warmed to his diverse passions and interests and upon reflection he was an inconspicuous inspiration.

Obviously he was not unlike his father who, among other things was a sleeper cutter and who played, beautifully, the violin. I can still remember that as an amazed young boy I watched and listened as my grandfather, “Pa”, put down his violin, took up a handsaw and produced music.

Born on the doorstep of the Great Depression, my uncle lived through some obviously challenging times, World War Two being an example, but looked at from earth’s present state – diminishing irreplaceable resources and a worsening environment – he and others of that generation enjoyed something of a “purple patch” for humanity as it was rich in both promise and opportunity.

My uncle realised much of that promise and opportunity, but within that was both decent and honest.

He was as beautiful man and among other things led me to barrack for the Western Bulldogs.

Exponential population growth is exhausting earth's resources

Humans have historically exhausted what existed and then moved on.

Our world is full and it is
 time we started listening
to those with ideas
about slowing exponential
 population growth.

The earliest small groups of humans, or tribes, settled briefly and when the immediate environment was no longer viable or provided the live-giving resources they needed, the group simply moved on.

Space was never a problem and the richness of the planet continued just over the horizon and so it was simply a matter of shifting your belongings, as few as they were, and re-establishing life in the “foyer of a new supermarket”.

The idea that we could always move to a new place has become entrenched in our psyche and humans have always looked longingly to the horizon convinced the solution to their difficulties were “just out of sight”.

That assumption has been evident throughout our history right from when the first “thinking man” emigrated from Africa to the dream of many that we could colonize other planets.

When our numbers were few and we had room to spare, the dynamic of staying for a season or two and then moving-on made complete sense.

When we arrived an area was rich with life and by the time we left it was pretty well exhausted, but as human demands were relatively small and, importantly, infrequent, nature had a largely uninterrupted chance to repair the damage.

The idea that our planet was voluminous and forever giving has become entrenched in human thinking, leaving many of us with the “throw-away” mentality.

Mostly humans everywhere have always exploited what existed, customarily to civilization’s detriment, and then moved on.

Most civilisations, history illustrates, survive for about 1000 years, except for those that were founded upon a rich stream of nature that saw the essence of life refurbished annually or more frequently.

Nature has put out the “No vacancy” sign ending our free-wheeling approach.

We don’t, however, appear to be paying much attention to the fact that the world is full as we continue to live as resources upon which modern life depend are endless – they are not and if don’t think the world is full, ask yourself why the only survivable space for many families in India, for example, is literally on a rubbish tip.

What do we do?

We need to support those with ideas to slow the exponential growth of human numbers, for if we don’t do it voluntarily, a pandemic will insist, killing billions, and we need to embrace and apply the grossly misunderstood idea of equity.

How do we do that? First, accept and understand the damaging reality of exponential growth; second, abandon narcissistic individuality, live altruistically; and, third, embrace equity, fairness and justice.

Australia’s asylum-seeker dilemma is simply about people moving to escape political crossfire and resource depletion – they are simply exercising humanity’s historic exit option.