311. The closer to the ground you live, the more you notice the foundations crumbling.

Tim Watkins, writing on the Consciousness of Sheep website, argues that the economy is not simply a financial system but a physical system dependent upon continuous flows of energy. His article, “Economic Entropy”, applies the second law of thermodynamics to human society, suggesting that all complex systems eventually decline when the energy required to maintain them becomes insufficient.

The article can be read here:

Economic Entropy – Consciousness of Sheep

For those interested in localism, this is an important contribution because it helps explain why large-scale infrastructure is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

Modern society depends upon vast networks of roads, railways, bridges, electricity grids, water systems, telecommunications and supply chains. These systems were built during a period when abundant and relatively cheap fossil fuel energy allowed ever-increasing complexity. Watkins argues that as surplus energy declines, maintaining this complexity becomes progressively harder. Infrastructure does not usually fail suddenly. Instead, it slowly deteriorates through deferred maintenance, underinvestment, shortages of skilled labour and the rising cost of repairs.

This closely mirrors one of the central ideas of localism.

Localism does not emerge because people suddenly decide that small-scale systems are morally superior. Rather, localism emerges because large-scale systems become increasingly expensive and difficult to sustain. As transport costs rise, as public finances weaken, and as national infrastructure ages, local communities are encouraged to provide more of their own needs.

Food is perhaps the clearest example. A highly centralised food system depends upon long-distance transport, refrigeration, packaging, distribution centres and complex financial arrangements. If maintaining these systems becomes more difficult, local food production becomes increasingly attractive, not because it is fashionable, but because it is practical.

The same principle applies to energy. Large generating stations and extensive transmission networks require enormous capital investment and continuous maintenance. Smaller local energy schemes, while unable to replace every national function, may prove more resilient because they depend upon shorter supply chains and can often be maintained locally.

Watkins points to ageing bridges, power stations and other infrastructure as examples of systems that are becoming harder to maintain. The significance for localism is that these are not isolated failures. They are symptoms of a broader process in which complexity exceeds society’s ability to support it.

This does not mean that all national systems disappear. Railways, specialist hospitals, defence and certain communications networks are likely to remain national functions for a very long time. However, many everyday activities may gradually move closer to home. Food production, repair services, care provision, small-scale manufacturing and local energy generation all become more valuable in a world where maintaining large systems becomes increasingly challenging.

Viewed in this way, localism is not an ideological project. It is an adaptive response to economic entropy.

As the cost of sustaining large-scale complexity rises, communities naturally begin to rebuild local capacity. The future may therefore look less like the continued expansion of global systems and more like a patchwork of resilient local economies connected by a smaller number of essential national networks.

If Watkins is correct, localism is not merely an alternative vision of society. It is one of the most likely ways in which society adapts to the realities of economic entropy.

223. Localism, truth, and why small systems remain viable as the formal economy weakens

Many of the pieces on this blog start from the same observation. The formal, industrial system that shaped the last two centuries is no longer expanding. It is becoming more brittle, more abstract, and less able to describe the conditions it is meant to manage. One consequence of this is rarely named, but it matters greatly. Large systems are increasingly poor at telling the truth about what is actually happening.

This is not because people have become less honest. It is because scale weakens feedback.

There is strong evidence that small, local systems generate fewer invented facts than large, top-down organisations. This strengthens the case for localism, not as a lifestyle choice, but as a structurally viable way of organising society in a period of contraction.

In local settings, most interactions are direct and repeated. People know one another and share overlapping knowledge of the same places, activities, and outcomes. Claims are made in the presence of others who can test them against lived experience. If a harvest is considered good, the fields are visible. If a scheme is said to be working, its effects are felt locally.

This produces tight feedback loops. False claims are rarely exposed through formal processes. They are exposed through everyday contradiction. A person who repeatedly invents facts does not simply lose an argument. They lose trust, cooperation, and standing. In an informal local economy, that loss has immediate practical consequences.

Large organisations operate oppositely. Information moves upwards through layers, losing detail as it goes. Reports replace observation. Targets replace judgment. Responsibility is dispersed to the point where no one wholly owns the accuracy of what is being said.

In such systems, invented facts usually arise without malicious intent. People adapt their descriptions of reality to what the organisation can tolerate. Bad news is softened. Ambiguity is resolved in favour of approved narratives. Over time, internal coherence becomes more important than correspondence with lived conditions.

This is a structural outcome of scale, not a failure of individual character.

In small communities, knowledge is redundant. Many people know the exact facts through different routes. This makes sustained fabrication difficult. In large systems, knowledge is siloed. Falsehoods can persist simply because those closest to reality lack authority, while those with authority are distant from reality.

This pattern is well supported by the work of Elinor Ostrom, who studied how local groups successfully managed shared resources such as water systems, fisheries, and grazing land. Across thousands of cases, she found that small, self-governing groups shared information openly, detected rule-breaking quickly, and maintained higher factual accuracy than centrally managed systems.

These groups did not function because people were unusually virtuous. They functioned because dishonesty was visible and costly. Everyone depended on the same resource. Everyone could see when claims diverged from reality.

This connects directly to the wider argument of this blog. As discretionary markets shrink and formal institutions struggle to adapt, systems that depend on abstract reporting and distant control become increasingly fragile. They require simplification to function, and simplification drifts into distortion. Targets replace reality. Invented facts become a way of keeping the system moving.

Local systems do not scale, and that is precisely why they remain viable. Their small size anchors them in observation, shared experience, and rapid correction. Errors surface quickly. Misjudgements are owned locally. False claims cannot be institutionalised or passed endlessly upwards.

Localism does not eliminate deception. People remain human. But in a local setting, deception is short-lived and self-limiting. It damages trust quickly and cannot be embedded into the structure of the system.

As the formal economy contracts and informal systems take on a larger role in meeting everyday needs, this matters. A society that cannot accurately describe its own condition cannot adapt to change. Localism remains viable not because it promises harmony or moral improvement, but because it preserves feedback.

And feedback, more than scale or efficiency, is what keeps a system connected to reality.

190. Connectedness: From Quantum Reality to Local Life

Modern science has revealed a picture of the universe that differs sharply from the mechanical view we inherited from the industrial age. The world of atoms and particles, once imagined as hard little objects bouncing about in empty space, has dissolved into a web of relationships. Nothing exists in isolation. Everything is defined by its interaction with everything else.

Quantum theory shows that at the smallest scale of nature, separation is an illusion. A particle has no fixed position until it interacts with another; its properties are not its own, but part of a larger pattern. The same lesson appears in the living world. A forest, for example, is not a collection of trees. It is a continuous exchange between soil, fungi, roots, air, and light. Each element draws its life from the rest.

Human societies follow the same law. Communities thrive not through competition but through relationship — through the sharing of work, knowledge, and care. In that sense, localism expresses in social form what physics and biology reveal in nature: that coherence arises from connectedness.

When economies grow beyond the reach of personal understanding, coherence is lost. The global market may seem efficient, yet it often weakens the bonds that hold life together. The shift towards localism can be seen, then, as nature restoring balance — the social equivalent of the universe seeking stability through renewed connection.

In a local economy, producers and consumers know one another. The exchange of goods and services is also an exchange of trust. Each action ripples through the small web of the locality, as energy ripples through the web of nature. The result is not perfection but balance — a kind of social harmony that mirrors the natural coherence of the physical world.

The quantum world teaches humility. It reminds us that reality is not built from separate parts but from relationships that our minds can barely grasp. Local life brings that understanding home. It allows us to live within the pattern, rather than trying to dominate it. In doing so, we rediscover the truth that health — of people, places, and the planet itself — depends on connectedness