The Living Library Apocalypse
What will we do when all of the old folk are gone? What precious things will die out with them?
Cultural commentators are forecasting yet another apocalypse; one which they claim is dead certain to hit the western world in five to ten years’ time. Now, myriad apocalypses have been proclaimed before, and their deadlines have predictably come and gone with no sign of chaos. One could therefore be forgiven for thinking this is just another case of an over-enthusiastic group of commentators “crying wolf” in an attempt to gain attention. However, the boy who cried “wolf” was eventually right. Likewise, with this proclaimed apocalypse, we would do well to heed the doomsayers’ warnings.
We should listen because this apocalypse is one of demographics; and if we don’t act fast, its effects will be set in stone. Once established, a demographic trend is neigh on impossible to reverse before it causes significant social upheaval. What is happening in South Korea is a classic case in point. Its birth rate has plummeted, leading to an impending black hole in its public finances due to future shortages of taxable working adults. However, for the rapidly approaching demographic cliff edge that we in the West are heading towards, there is nothing we can do to avoid it but there is still time to avert the worst of its impacts. We need to start preparing now.
The Boomer Apocalypse is coming.1
Every generation comes to an end. Such is the law of life. There is nothing necessarily apocalyptic about it. It is though what the Boomers2 as a group do for society that makes their impending exit from the world’s stage so potentially catastrophic. The Boomers make up a significant proportion of our volunteers, contribute the bulk of our charitable giving, and form the bulk of our club, society, and hobby group membership. Imagine for a moment a typical volunteer. You likely pictured someone with grey hair.3
Thus, as a demographic, the Boomers are upholding much of the common good in society that we all enjoy and depend upon.4 Without their support and participation, conservation groups would dwindle, hobbies and special interests would have the wind taken out of their sails, and cultural events which rely on volunteers, such as village fetes, would become potentially unviable. A world without Boomers and all their activity is one deficient in conviviality. It is a world hollowed out of the common good. It is a world I wouldn’t want to live in.
There is, however, one vitally important concern that I believe has been overlooked in discussions concerning the coming Boomer Apocalypse. To an extent, it is right that the focus of cultural forums has been on the coming lack of volunteers and charitable support. If Sir Roger Scruton is correct that volunteers and voluntary organisations are an essential pillar holding up much of western society, then their absence will cause chaos as well as tragedy.5 But another tragedy is approaching; one that is harder to perceive, but which will have even more permanent effects than a shortfall in volunteers. I am speaking of the loss of all the knowledge and wisdom contained within the brain cells of the Boomer generation.
Much of the knowledge the Boomers have acquired over their many years of life is particularly rich in value for us moderns, for it was acquired before the age of the machine really got going — and certainly before the age of the internet. Latent within their collective memory is the know-how needed to run an analogue world; they can start up again the old, cranky analogue machines and know how to competently wield the hand tools that were used in bygone times. In an age where the digital world is burning us out, trapping us in addiction, and eroding traditions, can we afford to lose knowledge of how the analogue world works? I don’t think so.
There is another precious form of knowledge associated with the Boomers (and also the Silent Generation that came before them): a rare few of them are what I call “living libraries”. It is the impending loss of their extensive and irreplaceable knowledge that I lament the most. I think of the old man in the Swiss village who is a living encyclopaedia of local agrarian tradition, or the old man in his shed whose walls are laden with an infinite array of wooden hand-tools for jobs modernity has forgotten. Or, I think of the woman who is the sole practitioner of an ancient craft, or who is the last speaker of an archaic language whose vocabulary contains words that perfectly draw out the meaning and particularities of her local place.
Can we afford to lose all this encyclopaedic wisdom and knowledge; wisdom, which, amongst other things, is deeply and uniquely connected to local places, local people, and traditional practices? No, we cannot. Not if we want to retain the vibrancy and depth of our cultures anyway.
In this regard, I think back to the little old lady6 I heard the other day whilst on an orchard visit organised by the community orchard group that I am a member of. She knew over one hundred local apple varieties by name and could wax lyrical about where the apples came from, what they could be used for, and what conditions the trees needed to flourish. More impressively, she is well renowned for possessing the ability to identify unidentified local apples by their taste and appearance. She spends her summer providing this priceless cultural service to folk who bring her unidentified apples from their back garden.
She is a living, walking, talking library of Cumbrian apple knowledge and wisdom. But as far as I can tell, there is no one following in her footsteps (at least no one who is not the same age as her!). We all greatly admire her knowledge, but who is sitting at her feet and aiming to inculcate all her knowledge to themselves and thus become the next living library of all things Cumbrian apples? I don’t know. But someone I hope.7
Every time a living library dies, we suffer an incalculable and irreversible loss. I consider it to be a far greater tragedy than when a physical library burns down, for paper books can be replaced; knowledge that used to be contained within now decaying brain cells cannot. That’s why it is vital that we preserve this knowledge in written or audio form, or preferably by raising up a future generation of living libraries. Maybe you and I could become one of them?
So, why don’t you begin to practice an endangered craft; learn the identification and life histories of the lichens or fungi of your local area; learn to speak a local dialect; or become fascinated by steam trains, steam engines, or steamboats? Why don’t you join a club or group that is full of old folk and gather all that you can from their collective expertise? Why don’t you, revive what is dying in your local place and treasure what remains?
People infected with the worst vices of modernity may mock your idiosyncratic pursuits and deem your knowledge as worthless for the machine age. Ignore them. Shake the dust off your shoes and walk away; you are not conserving knowledge for them. You are custodian of knowledge and wisdom for those who care about your place and who can appreciate what is beautiful and special. Such knowledge is far from worthless; it is priceless. There are few higher and nobler callings than being a custodian of such knowledge; few higher privileges than being known as a wise old living library.
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For one explanation of the ramifications of this demographic phenomenon and a justification for the term see: https://www.ruralministries.org.uk/post/boomers It was Mark Sayers I believe, who first used the term.
A person born between 1945/6 and 1965
Even if, according to some reports, your typical volunteer is more likely now to be a young person. Though it varies from sector to sector, with many church, conservation, and local community volunteers being from the elderly/ boomer generation.
Though one could make the case that it is the earlier Boomer generation that are contributing more to society than those born towards the end of the Boomer period.
See Roger Scruton, Green Philosophy, for more on this.
Though she would be a member of the Silent Generation and not a Boomer.
I ask myself, what about me? I feel my callings are else where (local natural history and agrarian knowledge) but still, perhaps there is something I can do…
Thank you Hadden. I live with this struggle everyday of my professional life. I'm a bookbinder who primarily follows the English handcraft binding tradition. I mainly work on repair commissions and rebinding older works that people keep for sentimental reasons. I've never had the benefits of training under the direction of an older craftsperson, since none were left in the trade in my area when I decided to try my hand (I'm in my late 30's and do not know of anyone younger than me practicing the trade in my region of the U.S.). I've relied heavily on historical literature & manuals, how-to videos on the web, and blogs & articles by other bookbinders internationally. I feel completely inadequate to pass my meager experience on to anyone who might come asking for it, and I often encounter tools and equipment that have purposes and functions I cannot describe because techniques have been discarded or forgotten. Many "trade secrets" have been kept intentionally vague down through history to preserve their lucrative benefits for tradespeople who assumed their skills would always be in demand. So much knowledge has been lost in the handcraft trades.
The internet has, ironically helped me find pieces of this discarded knowledge, but it can't make up for the loss of muscle-memory and patient teaching that are vital for building confidence in new tradespeople. I think a vital aspect of preserving analogue knowledge is taking part in associations or communities that actively try to educate the next generation to learn and love such skills. I've been apart of clubs, groups for hobby enthusiasts, parishes, and historical societies where there was no transmission of ideas because the older and younger generations had no dialogue with one another. The nurturing relationships that may have been natural at one time don't seem natural or necessary to most people today. Culture will need to find a new way to self-replicate before cultural memories can be passed on. Thank you for your timely warning.
I am a literature major of that generation. Many literary quotes and references live in my memory that do not come up with an online search. Most people will never know the depth of their loss. Also, here's my piece today - https://morfmorford.substack.com/p/only-the-good-die-young