Imagine your neighbor standing in their flooded kitchen after another storm or your sibling struggling to pay for groceries as inflation, likely driven higher by imposed tariffs, hits 8% or more. The consequences of systemic fragility are no longer abstract—they are crashing into daily life. As food prices rise and crop yields falter, storms destroy homes, and inflation erodes livelihoods, many will finally wake up to the implications of these changes. The question is: How will we respond?
Floods in Spain and Italy have left entire regions underwater, while hurricanes in Florida and North Carolina have destroyed homes and uprooted lives. Inflation is already squeezing households, and tariffs, supply chain disruptions, and resource scarcity will likely increase costs. Rising temperatures and unpredictable weather patterns create food shortages, threatening developing nations and global stability. These disruptions expose the fragility of the systems we’ve long relied on—and force us to confront the reality that those systems may never function as they once did.
As Peter Zeihan (The End of the World Is Just the Beginning) points out, deglobalization accelerates this fragmentation. Nations are retreating into self-interest, unraveling trade networks, and further destabilizing supply chains. Jem Bendell’s Deep Adaptation and Breaking Together argue that this breakdown is both a challenge and an opportunity to rethink how we live and connect. This isn’t about waiting for institutions to save us. It’s about recognizing that resilience will come from human-scale efforts, not top-down solutions.
In these moments, the temptation to say, “I told you so,” is strong. But judgment divides when connection is what we need most. Blame won’t rebuild a flooded home, restock empty shelves, or soothe the fear of rising costs. When your neighbor or sibling wakes up to the reality of these consequences, they won’t need vindication; they’ll need understanding.
The answer lies in stepping forward with empathy and purpose. Small, human-scaled groups—neighbors, friends, families—will be the foundation of resilience. These groups don’t need to solve systemic crises. They must address immediate needs: sharing food, offering care, and pooling resources. In these connections, we find the strength to navigate what lies ahead.
Engaged optimism—a concept championed by Bendell—is not blind hope or denial of hardship. It’s the willingness to face reality and act meaningfully within it. When inflation rises, storms destroy, and scarcity bites, this optimism helps us move forward. It reminds us that our response matters for survival and the kind of lives we want to lead together.
This is not about fixing everything or returning to the way things were. It’s about creating something new in the spaces left by what’s breaking. The systems we’ve depended on may never fully recover, but in their place, we can cultivate relationships and networks that offer stability and meaning. The storms are here, the costs are rising, and the challenges are immense. However, how we respond to each other and these realities will determine whether we fracture further or come together to build something resilient.
When your neighbor or sibling wakes up, meet them not with blame but with understanding. Say, “I understand your pain. Let’s face this together.” Because in a world where systems falter, connection and care will carry us forward—not just to survive but to rediscover what it means to live truly.