As some of you may recall, my perspective on survivalism is heavily informed by my role as a professional disaster responder, discussed in earlier threads. Like many of you, I have been a bit of a student of the subject of survival from historical and academic perspectives, too.

In broad historic terms, the story of survivors is the story of refugees, or at least resettlers. I have never been a believer in the idea of the heavily armed nomad wandering the post-apocalyptic wasteland, heavily armed and getting by on his wits.

Much of survival is simply situational awareness combined with the foresight and flexibility to act before things get too bad. Many Jews and others had the foresight to leave Germany before about 1938, when things got really bad and it was too late to leave. Many who stayed behind thought that Germany would come to its senses, had close ties to their neighborhoods and extended families, had built up communities and business they were loath to abandon, etc., or were simply patriotic Germans who loved their country and their (vanishing) way of life and did not want to make drastic changes. In short, they would have to give up almost everything they knew, loved, and owned to risk an uncertain future in a foreign land. In short, even if they saw what was coming, they were so financially or psychologically invested in staying put and trying to maintain what they had and enjoyed to have flexibility and exercise the foresight to relocate.

On a much smaller scale, many people fail or refuse to evacuate in a timely fashion from fires, floods or hurricanes for fear of leaving their homes or personal possessions “unguarded.” Likewise, others refuse to leave because they have pets, livestock or businesses to attend to. Others had fears of emergency shelters. Some of them die every year as a result.

A wise woman once told me that much of life is composed of whatever happens to you while you were busy making other plans. The point for us survivalists is that the events of life tend to overtake our best laid plans and cause those plans to go awry. Therefore, I think making, and, more importantly, being either financially or psychologically over-invested in plans that are too concrete or inflexible may be counter-productive.

So a big part of surviving is not only being able to recognize the Really Bad Thing that’s coming, but being flexible enough to act in time, perhaps in a way that involves abandoning any previously made plans, and/or everything we have known and valued in life thus far.

That’s pretty scary. I have a very nice life, comfortable home, career, friends, etc. But I’m not willing to die for things that are really transitory anyway. I’d hate to give it all up permanently, but I hope I would have the sense to recognize the need and do so if circumstances dictate.

We survivalists all have a pretty fair idea of what a flood, earthquake, hurricane, economic collapse would entail, and we can plan accordingly. But nobody has a really good idea of what the aftermath of a national or global and persistent apocalyptic disaster might be like. Without meaning to give offense, I don’t think “permanent” or long-term survival preparations make much sense for many of us.

First, the financial investment is just too large for many of us to make a real long-term survival retreat. If you enjoy a primitive frontier, off the grid mode of living as a lifestyle choice, that’s different. Likewise, if you live a rural, agricultural oriented life, making arrangements for basic self-sufficiency fits. But most of have careers, mortgages, kids in school, etc., that make that sort of thing mainly a dream.

Second, if you do make that sort of investment, what if circumstances suddenly make it impractical? What if your retreat or family farm is ground zero? What if a band of Mad Max rogues just takes it over? What then?

Of course, the same thing applies to shorter term arrangements. Like many of us, my home is pretty well prepared, and is my planned “bug-in” location, although it offers only enough for temporary survival. It’s just a suburban home, albeit a somewhat hardened one. It’s no fortress or sustenance farm.

My BOB is simply enough to get me home from my regional daily travels. I can live out of it for about three or four days, for sure. But it would also be very helpful in stretching that far longer, whether in semi-urban or wildland environments, or even in a shelter.

Which brings up the next point. Survivalism, in broad historic terms, is a community affair. I’ve never bought into the idea of the lone wolf survivalist, wandering, heavily armed, across the post-apocalyptic wasteland, or even carving a new survival homestead out of the wilderness. The real survivors, it seems to me, will be the persons with many friends and family, and useful skills and knowledge to contribute to a rebuilding community, working together.

Likewise, NOLA notwithstanding, don’t disregard government assistance, at least in a typical regional, non-apocalyptic disaster. The system *usually* works pretty darn well. Don’t be afraid to go to a Red Cross shelter, for example. You will be allowed to leave as soon as the immediate danger has passed. In fact, they want you to leave ASAP. No one will be forced into labor camps.

This is the short (really?) version of my survival philosophy and experience. Therefore, I do the following. I plan and make actual preparations for typical temporary emergencies, which also has value for the longer term, worse, or unexpected events. I make a few preparations with an eye to longer term events specifically. All of my really long term survival plans are essentially mental, involving careful consideration of the possibilities, but I don’t do anything specific, as a practical matter.

Here’s one analytical tool I use, it’s another “Rule of Threes.” I think in term of three seconds, three minutes, three hours, three days, three months, and three years. Some things can kill me in less than three seconds, which is why I wear my seatbelt, and also why I carry a concealed weapon. I’ll gladly give up my wallet, or my car, or my household goods, but not my life. I can survive less than three minutes without air to breathe or with severe hemorrhage. That’s why I have life vests with knives on them to cut away entangling lines, and my FAK has tourniquets, for example. I can survive less than three days without water, which is why my BOB has water and purification equipment. More generally, I prepare for three days first, with my BOB, then for three months, with home preps, and I’m nowhere close to three years of essential supplies, although I’d like to get there. You get the idea. After that, I plan not to plan. But I do think about “what if . . .”

But I know that things can happen that will keep me from my BOB in the trunk of my car, or force me to abandon my home, or make any other plan or preparation I’ve made utterly useless. In that case, I will have to fall back on only my skills, knowledge, wits, friends and family, flexibility, endurance, random chance, and faith.

I welcome comments, criticisms, and contrary views.

Jeff