323. Can We Talk About Greed, Excess and Sacrifice for a Minute?

It’s actually shocking to come across any plain-spoken “stating the obvious” reference to corruption as a corrosive, destabilizing force.

Charles Hugh Smith

Jun 13, 2026

The reason I want to discuss Greed, Excess and Sacrifice is that these are the dominant forces shaping everyday life, but they receive near-zero notice: nobody talks about Greed, Excess and Sacrifice, just as they never talk about the extremes of corruption that now characterize life in the US.

I have written extensively about moral decay as the rot consuming the foundations of a stable social order, yet there is so little attention paid to the excesses of corruption that it’s actually shocking to come across any plain-spoken “stating the obvious” reference to corruption as a corrosive, destabilizing force.

Matt Stoller of thebignewsletter.com is one of the very few who address rampant corruption and its destructive effects:
“All that said, I think that an AI bubble popping could be worse than the dot com bubble, for a few reasons. The first is that we are a much more corrupt society, and so there will be less trust when a collapse happens and contagion is widespread.”
Source: What Would It Look Like If the AI Bubble Popped?

The driver of corruption is bottomless greed, which extinguishes fairness and truth as impediments to maximizing private gains. Since fairness and truth are the foundations of trust, unrestrained greed maximizing corruption fatally undermines trust.

Trust is the foundation of the entire socio-economic-political order, and with trust gone, that foundation gives way and the entire order collapses.

The core of corruption is the privilege of evading consequences is codified either formally with legal rulings / regulations or informally by co-opting or neutering the oversight and enforcement that places boundary conditions on bottomless greed.

With these guardrails removed, the greediest few distribute all the consequences, costs and risks onto everyone below them and channel all the gains to themselves and their cronies.

Excesses of greed and corruption are visible everywhere as the insiders in every fiefdom, public and private, scramble to secure the privilege of evading consequences by distributing them to the powerless many.

Excesses abound in every sphere of life. Billionaires don’t have mere $10 million yachts, they have $600 million yachts. Pickup trucks are now massive vehicles designed to impress, not to carry construction materials as in the old days. Exotic vacations now reach absurd excesses because old standards of “exotic” became affordable to the masses. Where there were displays devoted to snacks in supermarkets, now entire aisles are filled with nothing but a vast and ever-expanding variety of snacks.

The desperate reach for “novelty” has reached extremes of self-parody: bizarre excesses marketed as “new!” cannot be parodied because they’re already parodies of authentic novelty and value.

Virtually every aspect of life in the US has reached levels of self-parodying excess, yet nobody seems to notice. The boiled-frog / habituation to immiseration syndrome is the key characteristic of what’s marketed as “Progress.”

As we throw up our hands in helpless acceptance of systemic corruption and self-parodying excesses being sold as “Progress,” we’re ignoring the downstream sacrifices that are the unavoidable consequences of greed, corruption and excess.

Sacrifices generated by greed and corruption appear as both financial costs that demand sacrifices and work-life sacrifices of time, energy, attention and the corrosive grind of burnout and unpaid work we must now do to keep the basics of modern life functioning–tasks that were once done by corporations or the government that have been offloaded onto households.

Consider two examples: having your dog’s teeth cleaned now costs $1,500, and so does having your child’s teeth cleaned and coated with some “vitamins.” This is literally 10 times the cash price we paid 10 years ago. According the BLS Inflation Calculator, inflation has risen 40% since 2016, so having my teeth cleaned should have risen from $150 to $210, not $1,500.

“Her longtime vet, now part of a national chain, overcharged her $500 for her dog’s teeth cleaning and didn’t issue a promised refund.”

When we spend time with Millennial age friends, what we hear from those employed in the private sector are the sacrifices demanded by Corporate America and the crushing costs imposed on households–especially for “healthcare insurance,” which is often neither authentic insurance or healthcare.

We hear accounts of friends “being sucked dry” by Big Tech employers, friends burning out in tech jobs and opting to work at Target, holiday time (needed to pack boxes for a move) being refused because “this project is a priority”–and in Corporate America, every project is always a priority, so holiday allotments pile up unused. When asked about job security, managers say “I can’t give you any guarantees” of a job tomorrow, much less next month or next year.

We have Millennial friends who live and work in Europe because life in the US is now unaffordable to all but the well-paid / wealthy once “sickcare” insurance costs are included. Life is easier in other countries because essential civic services such as public transport, education and healthcare are kept functional and affordable.

We recently hosted Millennial friends with two delightful young children, and the husband lugged in two laptops which he set up on my desk because he needed to check in on his three IT-related jobs. He was able to sit down to lunch and then he had to go back to work. Over their 7-hour weekend visit, he had to work half the time.

As parents, our friends are well aware of the dangers of over-scheduling and over-entitling their children, even as they seek to give them the extra-curricular activities they view as foundational–music and swimming lessons, some athletic engagement–while noting the many excesses of youth athletics other parents accept as “the way it is.”

Another Millennial age friend is a union member employed by a state-university teaching hospital. They have job security but report that mid-level managers are being let go as consolidation reduces staff.

Many of our friends marvel at jobs that end after an 8 hour shift. They report that leaving an employer is not possible due to the generous healthcare coverage. Others say they’re still working to pay their $20,000 property tax bill, which even in Prop-13 California, rises 8% to 10% every year with various add-ons.

Work-life balance of the sort we took for granted 40 years ago is now a scarce privilege, as the privilege of evading consequences means the negative consequences now fall entirely on the powerless.

The top 10% who manage / control the narratives are far more likely to possess privileges that enable them to discount or dismiss everything stated above as the whining of people who don’t appreciate their immense wealth, while ignoring their own privileges are the most valuable form of “wealth” in a thoroughly corrupted society and economy.

The apologists for this psychotic blindness to self-parodying excesses of greed, corruption and sacrifice are many; as long as a handful of millionaires are being minted in the casino, all is well. In other words, as long as the casino still offers a few the opportunity to declare “I got mine,” the system is not just stable, it’s wonderful.

But this cheerleading psychotic blindness is just another manifestation of the rot consuming the foundations of our society. The cheerleaders must ignore the destabilizing rot because they have no answer to the consequences other than apres nous, le deluge–after us, the flood.
CHS: I welcome the generous financial support of the “vital 5%” stalwart subscribers who keep this site on life-support. Thank you.

272. How to Think About the Future (Part 1): Changing the Future Starts with How You Think

Nate Hagens

In this week’s Frankly, I open a new series called How to Think About the Future. I begin with some comments I’ve heard repeatedly on this platform: why cover nuclear, plastics, renewables, or climate when something else is the real issue? I observe that these questions come from people who have already settled on a single storyline about what’s coming, and are filtering everything else through it. Our actual reality is much more complex and unknowable, and even the most well-informed perspectives may only be able to capture pieces of the bigger picture. I emphasize that even my own base scenario – that the global economy is likely to hit a wall in the relatively-near future – should be held with humility.

I introduce the idea of “scenario thinking” as a practical strategy to reflect on and prepare for several versions of the future, keeping one engaged and grounded in what matters. I also name why this line of thinking is hard in practice – 1. our nervous systems want resolution, 2. our careers and identities are attached to particular futures, and 3. cultural incentives reward confident stories over honest uncertainty. The episode closes by introducing shortfall risk, which is the danger that something essential, like topsoil, social trust, grid stability, or the nuclear taboo drops below a threshold from which it cannot easily recover. This concept will act as connective tissue across the rest of the series, which is an attempt to expand perception instead of picking the right future, and to identify what is coupled, what is irreversible, and what kinds of responses stay robust across many possible worlds.

Where in your life have you quietly settled on a single story about the future? Which of the essentials you rely on would be hardest to rebuild if they fell below a threshold? And how might the decisions you make this week change if you held more than one plausible future in mind at the same time?

230. Why Isolation Now Feels Universal

A striking feature of life today is that almost everyone, at some point, feels isolated.

This is no longer confined to older people, those living alone, or those on low incomes.  It affects working adults, parents, young people, and even those who appear busy and socially connected.  The sense of isolation has become widespread because the structure of modern society itself is producing it.

This is not a coincidence.  It is closely linked to the long transition from an expanding economy to a contracting one. But not yet recognised as such.

Evidence from bodies such as the World Health Organisation shows that loneliness and social isolation are now recognised as global public health issues.  In the UK, government research has repeatedly found that loneliness affects a large proportion of the population and is associated with poorer health, lower well-being, and weaker social trust.  These findings are important because they point away from individual failure and towards systemic causes.

In an expanding industrial economy, isolation was partly masked.  Rising incomes, plentiful jobs, expanding transport networks and consumer activity created constant movement and interaction.  People travelled frequently, worked in large organisations, and met others through employment, commuting, shopping and leisure.  Even when relationships were shallow, there was a sense of being embedded in a busy social world.

As growth stalls and then reverses, those structures begin to fall away.

Work becomes insecure or fragmented.  Many people leave large workplaces and move into home-based, part-time or informal work.  Discretionary travel declines because it is no longer affordable.  High streets thin out.  Public transport services are reduced.  Local amenities close or consolidate elsewhere.  The result is fewer routine encounters with other people.

At the same time, mobility has hollowed out long-term communities.  People have been encouraged for decades to move away from family and place in pursuit of work and promotion.  When the economy stops delivering, what remains is a population physically dispersed and socially thinly connected.

“Hollowed out” means that something still looks intact from the outside, but much of what once gave it strength, activity or purpose has been removed from the inside.

In this context you’re using it, it has a social and economic meaning, not a physical one.

When we say a community has been hollowed out, we usually mean:

  • People have moved away, especially younger or working-age people
  • Jobs, services and institutions have closed or relocated elsewhere
  • Daily life has lost its density and continuity
  • What remains is thinner, quieter, and less connected

So a place may still have houses, roads and shops, but fewer reasons for people to interact regularly.

A couple of clear examples:

  • A village where most residents now commute elsewhere or work remotely, and local shops, pubs and clubs have closed. It looks the same, but community life has drained away.
  • A town centre with buildings still standing, but far fewer independent businesses, workplaces or social spaces. The shell remains, the activity has gone.

Digital communication has not solved this problem.  Online interaction lacks physical presence, shared responsibility and continuity.  It is optional and can be easily withdrawn from.  It cannot replace the reassurance of knowing people nearby, nor the quiet confidence that help, recognition and shared purpose exist within walking distance.

This is why isolation now feels so widespread.  It is not primarily emotional.  It is structural.

Localism addresses this problem at its root.

In a shrinking economy, daily life inevitably becomes more local.  People travel less. Employment shifts closer to home.  Services simplify.  Informal exchange and mutual support become more important.  The question is whether this happens by neglect and breakdown, or by design and intention.

Localism offers a framework for rebuilding social connections amid ongoing economic contraction.  It does so not through programmes or campaigns, but through proximity, participation and shared dependence.

When people rely more on their local community for food, services, care, repair, and decision-making, they are drawn back into regular contact with one another.  Familiar faces return.  Trust is rebuilt through repeated interaction.  Informal support networks emerge naturally, not as substitutes for the formal system, but as complements to it.

Research consistently shows that people who feel a strong sense of belonging to their community report lower levels of loneliness and higher well-being.  This is not because communities are perfect or harmonious, but because they provide predictability, recognition and mutual visibility.  People are seen.  They matter.

In economic contraction, this becomes even more important.  As national systems struggle to maintain reach and consistency, the locality becomes the scale at which human needs can still be met reliably.  Care, companionship, shared work and shared purpose all operate more effectively close to home.

Localism also restores dignity.  Instead of people being passive recipients of distant services, they become active participants in their own social and economic environment. This sense of agency reduces isolation just as much as social contact does.

In short, isolation is not an aberration of modern life.  It is a symptom of an economic model that has stretched social connections too thin and too far.  As that model falters, the solution is not to recreate growth, but to rebuild closeness.

Localism is not a nostalgic preference.  It is the social form that fits a shrinking economy.  By rooting life once again in the locality, it offers a practical, humane response to isolation – not by treating loneliness, but by redesigning the conditions that produce it.

203. Government Advice: Power cuts

A torch that has been switched on.

Power cuts (or electricity outages) can have a number of causes including severe weather, which can lead to damaged infrastructure, or system faults. 

The UK has a resilient electricity system. Most power cuts are short-lived and occur locally, but more widespread and longer outages can happen. These could potentially last several days with regional or, although unlikely, national impacts. 

Gas boilers and hobs, heat pumps and your home internet won’t work without power. Your mobile phone might stop working if your local mast is in the affected area. Mains water supply to your home could also be disrupted. Find out what to do in a phone and broadband outage, or a water outage.


Actions to take to prepare for a power cut

  • Keep a battery or wind-up torch (and spare batteries) at home. You probably won’t want to use the torch on your mobile phone as this will drain its batteries more quickly. It is not advised to use candles or any other naked flames to provide light, as these could pose a fire hazard.
  • Consider keeping some bottled water and non-perishable food that doesn’t need cooking such as ready-to-eat tinned meat, fruit or vegetables and a tin opener. You should also include ready-made baby formula and pet food if needed. 
  • Find out your power/load block letter. In the unlikely event of a national energy shortage, emergency power cuts could be scheduled on a rotating area-by-area basis. Each area in GB is assigned a ‘load block letter’ and would be scheduled to disconnect from the electricity grid for around three hours at a time. You can find which load block letter you are in by entering your postcode at powercut105.com, or some energy suppliers include it on electricity bills.
  • If you’re eligible, sign up to your energy supplier’s Priority Service Register to let them know that you need additional support during a power cut.

You would lose internet connection and possibly mobile signal during a power cut. To prepare for this:

  • Write down the phone number to report a power cut – this is 105 in England, Scotland and Wales and 03457 643643 in Northern Ireland. You can also save the number in your mobile phone.
  • Keep a battery or wind-up radio (and spare batteries) at home. There might be updates communicated by radio during a power cut. A car radio can be used, however in severe weather it might be safer to stay inside. Write down on paper the frequencies of any local or national radio stations you use for news updates. You could add these to your household emergency plan
  • It can be helpful to keep these notes with other items you might have, such as a torch or radio, and in a place that’s easy to find in the dark. 
  • If your only way of making emergency calls is through a landline phone, or if you have a telecare kit connected to your landline, contact your landline provider to understand whether your phone will work during a power cut. If your landline will not work during a power cut, your landline provider might offer you a free solution (such as a back-up battery unit), for a minimum of one hour, that would enable you to call the emergency services during a power cut if you needed to.
  • If you have a personal alarm or diabetes sensor (also known as telecare devices) or other connected equipment monitoring your health (such as diabetes sensors), speak to your device provider/manufacturer to understand how they will function during a power cut. 
  • Download or print out offline versions of maps in case you do not have access to live map-based mobile applications. To provide location services, your mobile smart phone uses a GPS signal. This means your mobile may still be able to provide your location when not connected to the network. However, map-based mobile applications rely on internet connectivity to download the maps.

Actions to take during a power cut

  • Visit your local network operator’s website to report a power cut and track updates when there’s a problem. If you’re unable to report the power cut online, call 105 for free in England, Wales and Scotland and 03457 643643 in Northern Ireland. 
  • Keep away from hazards such as power lines. Electricity at high voltages can jump gaps with no warning. 
  • Turn off items such as irons, ovens, electric fires and fryers. Unplug your TV and PC as they can be damaged if there is a surge when power goes back on. 
  • Keep warm by using blankets and layered clothing. Keep doors of unused rooms closed and close curtains to keep the heat in. Older adults, babies and young children, and people with long-term health problems are most likely to become ill if they get too cold. 
  • Check in on vulnerable neighbours and, if you are able, offer to share blankets, clothing or other supplies such as food. You can also pass on any important information you might have received about the power cut, such as when the power is expected to go back on. If you have a corded landline phone, this might still be working in a power cut. 
  • In a power cut your TV or internet might not be working. To get news updates use a battery or wind-up radio to search for stations that are still broadcasting. Try FM and digital modes. You can use the radio in your car, however in severe weather it might be safer to stay inside. 
  • If you have a power cut and you don’t have back-up power to your landline phone (or have a corded landline) and have a life-threatening emergency, you should attempt to call 999 or 112 using a mobile. You might receive overlapping signal from a nearby area that is unaffected – emergency calls automatically ‘roam’ onto all available networks.
  • Keep fridges and freezer doors closed, as this will ensure they stay cold for several hours. The Food Standards Agency provides advice on food safety in a power cut
  • To prepare baby formula safely, you will need to be able to boil water and follow the normal safety procedures.  If you are not able to boil water, please try to use ready-to-use baby formula. The NHS provides advice on making up baby formula.

186. Nobody’s in Control – and That’s How Localism Begins

Tim Watkins’ latest piece ends with a truth that most of us have long suspected but never dared to say aloud – nobody is in control. There is no plan, no strategy, no calm hand on the tiller. The people who are meant to be running the show are mostly busy explaining why nothing is their fault, while the rest of us are left to tidy up after them.

At first, that sounds terrifying. The idea that no one’s in charge of the nation’s great machinery, or even understands how the levers work anymore, is enough to make anyone nostalgic for the days when “strong leadership” meant something. But perhaps we should relax. Maybe this is exactly how localism begins.

Because the truth is, real control has always been an illusion. Even in its heyday, the industrial economy was a sprawling collection of improvised fixes that just happened to work for a while. Now that the fixes are breaking down, the system looks lost – but the people aren’t.

When government no longer knows what to do, we quietly start doing things ourselves. We mend the shed roof rather than waiting for an insurance company that never answers the phone. We share food, tools, and gossip. We rediscover what it means to be useful, rather than merely employed.

And while the official world debates growth targets and future technologies, the informal world – our world – gets on with the practical business of living. That’s localism. It doesn’t need permission or policy. It just grows naturally in the cracks of a crumbling system.

So when Tim says nobody’s in control, we might take that not as a warning but as a sign of progress. The old order is stepping back, albeit clumsily, to make room for something smaller, humbler, and far more human.

The lights may flicker in Whitehall, but in the streets and kitchens of ordinary people, a new kind of intelligence is quietly switching on.

.