A Response to “The Day Civilization Runs Out of Bread”

This is an attention-grabbing article on nuclear winter that impressed Zero Hedge enough that they reprinted it, but it tells only one side of the story. Furthermore, my analysis of its formatting, vocabulary, repeating and looping make me think there is a high likelihood that it was generated by an AI. Plus, given that “Madge Waggy,” the author, has a tiny audience, shares nothing personal, and has a very limited profile, I doubt there is a real person behind this blog.

My first question is, Why is Zero Hedge reprinting this? My second is, Who is behind the post, and why do they want to scare the U.S. population into avoiding the use of nuclear weapons?

I’m not going to let the high likelihood that this is propaganda stop me from addressing the key points: that we should all fear nuclear weapons and just resign ourselves to dying if one is used because nuclear winter will kill us in the end.

I’m not arguing that surviving a global nuclear war will be easy or fun; it won’t. But if you are not in or near the target zone, it might be possible. The key point the author (or her AI) miss is that nuclear winter may not kill us if we prepare, but it may prevent or delay a recovery.

Beyond the Science

Once we get beyond the argument of whether nuclear winter will last two years or ten, whether it will affect both hemispheres or only one, I have no arguments the author’s thoughts on the importance of food, the social and societal impact of famine, and the fragility of our current complex system of just-in-time supply. The sad truth is that some of the symptoms she foresees could be kicked off by far less than a nuclear war. For example:

“The social consequences become difficult to calculate precisely because they extend beyond starvation itself. Large urban populations dependent on uninterrupted food deliveries would likely experience panic within weeks of sustained shortages. Financial systems could freeze as governments impose emergency controls. Mass migration, civil unrest, organized violence, and authoritarian crackdowns would become increasingly probable as political institutions struggle to preserve order. Under such conditions, mortality would rise not only from hunger but from disease outbreaks, collapsing medical systems, infrastructure failures, exposure during extreme winters, and violent conflict over remaining resources.”

That could happen for a number of reasons, on a local, regional, national or even global basis without a single nuclear warhead being launched. Modern society is fragile. It doesn’t take a nuclear weapon to topple the applecart. And the problems will start in days, not weeks, of the food supply being cut off. Hyperinflation and the subsequent collapse of the U.S. dollar is one possible scenario that could cause such a reaction. A conventional war with China could also see supply chain disruptions that lead to shortages, unrest, and authoritarian crackdowns, is another.

A Different Path

Another thing I find odd is that the author focuses entirely on nuclear winter, the effects of which won’t be felt for months after global nuclear war. Before nuclear winter arrives, we must survive the bombs. Then those downwind must survive the fallout and the very real possibility of radiation sickness. Any bombing—whether one terrorist weapon or dozens of large blasts—will create panic, both physical and financial. There could be riots and looting, and in a world without the rule of law, violence may run rampant. Depending where the blasts are, large swaths of the electrical grid could go offline, taking down the Internet, cell phones, and other communication channels.

And while I agree food shortages will be an issue, the immediate food shortages caused by the bombings will kick in far sooner than shortages related to nuclear winter. While a sufficient number of nuclear explosions might affect the weather, even a few are likely to affect demand as all the unprepared people head to the grocery store. At best, we’ll see rationing and limits on what you can buy. At worst, Black Friday-like brawls over the last box of pasta will break out in the aisles.

Depending on the timing of an attack it could be months before the farmers plant their next crop and see the frequent frosts, the lack of sun, and the cool temperatures the author predicts. My question is: Will the farmers have the seed to sow? The diesel to power their equipment? The fertilizer to feed the crops? The spare parts for their equipment? It all depends on the severity of the initial attack and its aftermath.

The problem is that nuclear war kicks off a cascade of failures. We might overcome some, but nuclear winter prevents a rapid recovery.

Hand Wringing

Rather than prepare, the author seems to despair. This is her conclusion:

“The greatest misconception surrounding nuclear war may therefore be the belief that survival depends primarily on avoiding the initial explosions. In reality, the long-term environmental and societal consequences could determine humanity’s future far more decisively than the first hours of destruction. The bombs themselves would last minutes. The famine afterward could reshape civilization for generations.”

Notice how she has no suggestions of what to do? Not on a governmental scale, nor on an individual level. She doesn’t suggest governments build a stockpile or people prepare by building their personal supply of long-term storage food. She doesn’t suggest a return to building bomb shelters in government buildings or on private land.

The author also comments on population density and how “Cities function because surrounding systems continuously move food inward and waste outward.” Yet she makes no suggestion that individuals leave behind “urban civilization” to increase their odds of survival. It’s as if she thinks, “Why bother? You’re just going to die anyhow.”

I challenge the author and anyone else who complains loudly about the threat of nuclear winter to take concrete steps to address it. Become a prepper. Stockpile food. Leave the city. Buy potassium iodate. Arm yourself. Don’t give in or give up. Give yourself a fighting chance. Be prepared to live like it was the 1880s instead of the 2020s. Have a hand-crank grain mill and be prepared to live without refrigeration, for example.

Where we are located, I give us a good chance of surviving the initial attack. Our biggest immediate threat is forest fires caused by nuclear explosions hundreds of miles away. Then we have to survive the aftermath, the fallout, the refugees and the violence they may bring, and the dwindling supplies of food and fuel.

The Solution

My expectation is that when the SHTF, the government will look out for itself. Continuity of government—making sure someone is in charge of what is left of the United States after an attack or other calamity—is their primary focus. Protecting the country from foreign attack or invasion when the chips are down is likely the second. Protecting the voters is down the list a ways. That’s why you must prepare to protect yourself.

Whether it is nuclear war, an EMP strike, a CME, a war, or “just” an economic collapse, there are plenty of reasons to be prepared. Food, water, and shelter—what I call the Big Three—are the priority, followed by medical/first aid, self-defense, and communications. You need to be prepared to live not like you did yesterday, but like they did a century or more ago. Not just before the internet, but before electricity. Back when people saved seeds, raised livestock, planted a garden, and hauled water by hand.

If a story like the one I am responding to scares you, don’t sit there biting your nails and holding your head—take action. Take responsibility for yourself and your safety. No one is forcing you to live in an apartment in a city; you could live in a singlewide out in the boonies for less. When I left New York City, I moved form a 680-square-foot apartment into a four bedroom farmhouse for the same price. One of the first things we did was fill the basement with food and put in a garden. What’s stopping you?