Pronoun trouble and the end of the world

“We” need to do x.

“We” need to do y.

“We” need to do z, bell the cat, save the world.

Who is this “we” you speak of, white man?

That’s my problem. Any time I hear a sentence with the word “we” in it about how “we” just need to get the right technology-support policies, the right societal transformation, it is like fingernails on a blackboard in my head.

Who. Is. This. “We”?

Who is the agent of history, the modern prince, the whatever? I never get a convincing answer – convincing even to the person who is pissing on my leg and telling me that it’s raining.

The groups that are supposed to be this we – at a micro, meso or macro-level – either quickly make their piece with “the system, man” (see Ingolfur Bluhdorn on post-ecological thinking) and/or become fantastically corrupt(ed) or else they go up like a rocket and come down like a stick (hello XR), with the people who went up on the rocket trip unable to understand or reflect on why everything now is a splattered burnt husk. Unable to even engage in basic thought about it, instead tweeting they have to go make dinner (yes, this is a direct quote).

Who. Is. This. “We”?

There is not one. I do not believe there ever really will be one.

(There will, of course, be continued spasms, continued twitching of the corpse of civil society. But ventricular fibrillation is not a heart beat).

I could be wrong, of course. It is an empirical question.

Goddam I am glad I never bred. It’s gonna get so gnarly.

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