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.

213. We Can Discern Cycles and Waves, But Not the Outcomes

Which brings us to the present and the cycles and waves that have yet to reach the concluding third act, where the dramatic climax leads to resolution.

Charles Hugh Smith

Jan 06, 2026

We can discern cycles and waves in the past and posit them in the present, but not the outcomes. A great many phenomena follow cyclical patterns, from sunspots to Peter Turchin’s 50-year cycle of human history, while others form waves.

Author David Hackett Fischer (The Great Wave: Price Revolutions and the Rhythm of History) described the difference between cycles and waves:

“Cyclical rhythms are fixed and regular. Their periods are highly predictable. Great waves are more variable and less predictable. They differ in duration, magnitude, velocity, and momentum. One great price wave lasted less than ninety years; another continued more than 180 years. The irregularities in individual price movements make them no more (or less) predictable than individual waves in the sea.

Even so, all great waves had important qualities in common. They all shared the same wave-structure. They tended to have the same sequence of development, the same pattern of price relatives, similar movements of wages, rent, interest rates; and the same dangerous volatility in later stages. All major price revolutions in modern history began in periods of prosperity. Each ended in shattering world crises and was followed by periods of recovery and comparative equilibrium.”


Examples of waves range from rogue waves in the sea to bond yields / interest rates which arise and decline over periods of time that vary too much to qualify as cycles but match the dynamics of waves described by Fischer. Bond yields have gone from peaks to troughs in less than 20 years to the recent span of about 40 years–at the outer duration boundary of previous interest rate/yield waves.

In other words, the cycles described by historian Peter Turchin (50 year cycles that can generate 100-year, 150-year and 200-year cycles), along with many other cycles–the business cycle, the Kondratieff credit cycle, the Debt Super-Cycle, etc.–are defined not solely by time but by their internal dynamics and measurable qualities. Waves and cycles share many of the same dynamics and are easily confused.

As Fischer observed, waves of human history share characteristics with ocean waves, which can accrete energy and become giant rogue waves that cannot be predicted even as they can be foreseen as recurring phenomena.

I posted a list of dynamics currently accreting in self-reinforcing feedback loops last January:

Catch-20: The 20 Dynamics That Will Shape the Next Decade (1/15/25).

Both waves and cycles tend to follow the dynamics of S-curves in which a trend takes off in a boost phase, matures into a peak and then decays or reverses.

What cannot be discerned are the consequences and outcomes. An economic cycle or wave might culminate in an excess-clearing recession that sets the stage for an ultimately positive rebalancing of risk and debt, or the outcome might be an excess-clearing Depression that lays waste to the entire status quo.

Two cycles have attracted much commentary over the past decade:The Fourth Turning posited by William Strauss and Neil Howe in their 1997 book The Fourth Turning: An American Prophecy (subtitled What the Cycles of History Tell Us About America’s Next Rendezvous with Destiny) which laid out an 80-year cycle of four generational turnings (High, Awakening, Unraveling, Crisis) that culminate in a system-changing Fourth Turning.

This 80-year cycle aligns with the nation-changing crises of 1781 (the end of the Revolutionary War and the founding of the United States), 1861 (the start of the Civil War) and 1941 (America’s entry into an existential global conflict, World War II). This cycle suggests a nation-changing crisis began around 2021.

Strauss and Howe took pains to note that the outcome of each crisis isn’t pre-ordained to be positive. Complacency based on the idea that it will all turn out wonderfully due to the nation’s destiny could be fatal.

Peter Turchin and his colleagues have mapped out a 50-year cycle based on data ranging from archeological to financial–or in the case of coin hoards buried in times of crisis, both archeological and financial. Turchin’s prediction of a crisis beginning in 2020 drew skepticism which then flipped to recognition when the events of 2020 came to pass.

The previous era of crisis centered around 1970, a period that includes the latter half of the tumultuous 1960s (assassinations, the war in Vietnam) and the world-falling-apart early 1970s, which featured an energy crisis and deep recession, the reuniting of Vietnam by the North, crushing inflation, the resignation of a president who had won re-election by a landslide, a Constitutional crisis and an extended period of domestic terrorism that included hundreds of bombings and the kidnaping of heiress Patty Hearst–an era documented in the book Days of Rage: America’s Radical Underground, the FBI, and the Forgotten Age of Revolutionary Violence.

Since I lived through this period, I observed the importance of context when defining the outcome. To those who had benefited from (and grown accustomed to those benefits) the postwar era of 1946 to 1963, the changes in culture and the zeitgeist were dismaying: crew-cuts and college sweaters gave way to long-hairs in hippie garb, music went from Guy Lombardo and Henry Mancini to psychedelic rock, those who chafed under the social and economic limitations of the previous era sought a wider range of opportunities, and the nation that was united by war in the 1940s was shattered by war in the 1960s.

To many in the older generations, this era inspired a desire to return to the good old days of relative stability and conformity to long-established norms. But to those chafing under the limits of social, political and economic hierarchies, this was a period of liberation.

Not all good, by any means, but also not all bad–depending on where you stood.

Which brings us to the present and the cycles and waves that have yet to reach their concluding third act, where the dramatic climax leads to resolution.

Will we get a controlled burn that sets the stage for regrowth, or a conflagration that burns down the entire status quo? Many reckon the present will extend seamlessly into the 2040s, while others see 2026 as the spark igniting a multi-year conflagration.

To the degree that everything from the Global Financial Meltdown in 2008-09 to the present has been artifice masking moral decay and the terminal rot of Anti-Progress, it seems unlikely that we’ll be afforded the luxury of another decade to extend the second act of Ultra-Processed pretense and speculative extremes.

We can discern cycles and waves, and the arrival of Act Three, but not the outcomes, as the outcomes depend on our responses to forces in play that may well veer from linear and controllable to nonlinear and uncontrollable, at which point something different from what we planned and expected happens

An observer on Triskelion is taking the nonlinear side of the what-happens-next bet: Provider One wagers five thousand quatloos that AI will destroy its own Thralls.

My new book Investing In Revolution is available at a 10% discount ($18 for the paperback, $24 for the hardcover and $8.95 for the ebook edition). Introduction (free)

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