Prepping versus Resiliency

I’m not a prepper, and I’m not an expert on prepping—and I’m not sure I want to be, for reasons you’ll gather as we go. Prepping is a fascinating, if sometimes dark, subject, and I’ve gone deep enough to share the broad outlines.

Prepping, like resiliency, is about retaining functionality (and maybe comfort) for 1–3 months through mild-to-medium disasters. Those disruptions might include loss of power, fuel, food supply chains, internet, and transportation. But prepping also includes the intent and means to survive indefinitely in conditions that might kill off 95%–99% of the population. Successful long-horizon prepping is beyond most people.

If America as we know it comes to an end—loss of government, currency, police, power, services, fuel, groceries, hospitals, and so on—it seems likely that five types of “resilient” groups would emerge. Of these, one appears most likely to survive. Loners are very unlikely to make it.

The first, and seemingly most formidable, group would be composed of ex military types, ex police, and others trained for chaos. They’ll have the kit and skills for surviving and may set themselves up as the de facto governing body. They’ll seem invincible—and for a while they will be. Their structure will be hierarchical, with orders handed down in military fashion. They’ll also have large amounts of food, supplies, and equipment. However, they would likely fall prey to rapid resource depletion, competing power factions, and attrition from fighting virtually everyone else. In many cases they’ll be defending fixed positions, which come with their own vulnerabilities and ongoing costs.

The second group would be cooperative communities. You’d think they’d be well-positioned to survive, but they also have fatal liabilities. For one, they may remain emotionally attached to a system that no longer exists, expending energy fighting for things like democracy, due process, and equal rights. They’ll champion inclusion—which is noble, but may be a luxury of advanced societies. Not everyone included will have the ability or inclination to contribute equally. Over time, the hard-working, strong, and productive may grow weary of carrying more than their share of the load. Resentments would build and eventually imperil the consensual decision-making process at the core of the community. Factions will decide they’re better off on their own than submitting to equal representation without equal contributions.

Consensual decision-making also reduces responsiveness to rapidly changing circumstances. And like the military groups, the community groups will tend to defend a fixed position—while also caring for the young and old, growing food, building fences, and handling everything else. They will be easily recognized by marauders as repositories of supplies and regularly attacked. They’ll grow tired, and eventually they’ll be overrun. Bummer. I like that group, lol.

The third group consists of families. Resilient families have a lot going for them, including strong loyalty and better-than-average resources. They tend to last longer than lone wolves. Their liabilities include patriarchal, top-down command structures that don’t necessarily correlate with competence; a fixed personnel pool with limited talents; inability to include or exclude members as would benefit the group; and the challenge of defending a fixed position against marauders. A few robust families might persevere if they are loosely integrated into ad hoc networks and located in the right places.

The fourth group consists of criminals and the morally reprehensible. They will maraud and live off the supplies and efforts of others. They may have military-grade weapons, ammunition, and kit—and know how to use them. Since they produce nothing themselves, they’ll target other groups until they’ve depleted all the targets in their areas. When prey runs out, they’ll fight other marauding groups and then each other. They will suffer high attrition because they’ll frequently attack defended positions. And with obvious character deficiencies—operating purely out of self-interest—they’ll be less resilient internally than groups fighting selflessly for a common good.

The fifth group is the most likely to survive. Call them the loosely networked. They’ll exist in groups of 6 or 8, expanding and contracting as conditions dictate. They’ll be unattached to any ideology other than survival. They’ll keep a low profile. They will not defend or attack as a default. They’ll avoid when necessary and cooperate when necessary. They won’t defend fixed positions. They’ll live off the land, use shelters at times, and move to where risk is lower and resources are more abundant—wherever that may be. They’ll have a high tolerance for discomfort and plenty of survival and trading skills. They’ll travel lightly. They’ll embed loosely with networks from time to time, then leave when it becomes advantageous. That profile makes the most sense to me as the most survivable. I also don’t want to be that nomadic—or that self-interested.

Resiliency, by contrast, justifies its cost as a feeling in the here and now, and as functionality and comfort in disasters like Helene, Covid, ice storms, power outages, and medium-grade disruptions yet to manifest. It’s worth the investment, in my opinion.

Prepping is a very high-risk return on investment. If you have resources like the billionaires and want to go for it, why not? If you’re a tough S.O.B., maybe you could pull it off in the shadows as a nomad. These are personal decisions. Whatever you decide, in the world that’s coming, you’ll need other people and loosely connected networks. It’s wise to make those connections now.