
In the first part of this series we asked how we might escape the Iron Age, this part asks what might replace it.
Steel and timber offer two very different pathways into the future. One depends on vast global systems; the other draws strength from locality and renewal.
1. The making of materials
Steel begins its life in the ground. Iron ore is mined, transported, smelted in blast furnaces, mixed with coke made from coal, and then rolled, forged, and shipped across continents. Each stage demands heavy machinery, high temperatures, and long supply chains. A tonne of new steel typically produces around 1.8 tonnes of CO₂ before it reaches a construction site.
Note: One tonne = about one metric ton
Timber starts with sunlight, rain, and soil. Its energy source is the sun itself. The conversion from raw tree to beam or panel requires cutting, drying, and shaping, but the energy inputs are a fraction of those of steel. A cubic metre of sawn timber can store roughly one tonne of CO₂ absorbed during growth. Properly managed, forests can provide a renewable feedstock rather than a mined one.
2. Durability and repair
Steel’s great virtue is strength and predictability. It resists bending, carries high loads, and lasts for decades. Yet it rusts, fatigues, and fails if maintenance lapses. Protective coatings and paint systems require periodic renewal, often using petrochemical products. Once corrosion takes hold, repair can be costly or impossible.
Timber decays in damp conditions but can be protected naturally—through design, ventilation, and maintenance rather than chemicals. Traditional carpentry allowed parts to be replaced, patched, or scarfed in. A timber bridge or hall can last centuries, provided its joints stay dry. In a shrinking economy where labour is plentiful but energy is scarce, repairable materials gain new value.
3. Embodied energy and recycling
Steel can be recycled almost indefinitely, but recycling itself requires heat—usually from electricity or gas. The world already recycles about 30–40% of its steel, but as De Decker notes, there isn’t enough scrap to meet ongoing demand. Recycling is useful but cannot expand faster than old structures wear out.
Timber recycling is simpler. Offcuts can be re-milled, reused, or burned for heat. In an informal economy, where waste and fuel merge, every scrap can serve a second purpose. And because timber’s embodied energy is low, even one reuse cycle dramatically improves its lifetime carbon profile.
4. Scale and land
Timber has one serious limitation: it grows slowly and needs land. Converting the entire industrial system to wood would be impossible. But that is not the point. A shrinking economy does not require steel and timber on equal industrial scale. It requires balance—small wooden structures locally made, with the remaining steel reserved for essential heavy tasks: railways, tools, and key machinery.
In this way, contraction becomes an ally. As material demand falls, the renewable capacity of woodlands can begin to match human need. Forestry becomes a cornerstone of local resilience rather than a global commodity.
5. Localism as a lifecycle
In industrial thinking, a material’s lifecycle ends at the scrap yard.
In a local economy, the cycle loops within walking distance: trees become beams, beams become buildings, offcuts heat the workshop, and ash returns to the soil. Each step feeds the next.
Steel belongs to the age of extraction. Timber belongs to the age of regeneration.
6. Living well within limits
Steel’s story is one of power: how humans mastered fire and ore. Timber’s story is one of relationship: how we work with what grows around us.
As the economy contracts, the balance shifts from extraction to stewardship. The materials we choose will shape not only our buildings, but our way of life.
A timber economy will not replace steel in every task. But it can replace the mindset that built the Iron Age in the first place.