A civilizational collapse rarely happens suddenly. Most often, it’s a slow, creeping unraveling. We won’t wake up one morning and find civilization gone. It will dissolve, one system at a time, not everywhere at once but in waves.
In my previous article, Heading for the Brink, I highlighted Stephen Hawking’s warning: that our civilization is in danger of collapse and that little suggests we are capable of reversing the course.
Thinkers from all walks of life — philosophers, psychoanalysts, scientists, religious leaders, and activists — have warned since the Industrial Revolution that progress might be heading in the wrong direction.
What force is so powerful that it continues to drive us inexorably toward the abyss?
If we do not understand this force soon and accurately, our chances of survival will be minimal.
In the coming decades, we may witness an increase in wars, worsening weather patterns, food shortages, and mass migration. Political polarization and authoritarian responses will follow. Public trust in science, government, and each other will continue to erode while AI and disinformation quietly dismantle our shared sense of reality. Supply chains will begin to fail. Coastal cities will struggle against the sea. Global alliances will weaken, and national self-interest will override cooperation. In the long run, large areas of the planet may become uninhabitable — not just from war or radiation but from floods, heat, drought, and resource collapse.
That might sound exaggerated, but most of it is already happening, with war and climate change currently leading the way. Governments around the world are urging their citizens to keep emergency supplies of food and water for one to two weeks. It’s a small-scale warning, but I believe it’s also wise to prepare for a larger scenario — to prepare for a global systems collapse and ask: where is the best chance of survival?
It’s not easy to know, but some regions in your own country offer better odds than others. From a global perspective, the northern parts of Europe, Asia, and North America will likely remain more habitable for longer. The cooler, greener northwestern parts of Spain and Portugal offer abundant rainfall, low population density, and a strong tradition of rural self-reliance. The Southeast Asian highlands, including inland Mindanao, Northern Luzon, and parts of China, Vietnam, and Bali, offer altitude, fertile land, and cultural roots in subsistence farming. New Zealand and volcanic islands like the Azores, Madeira, and Tasmania combine self-contained ecosystems with distance from major conflict zones. In the Andes and the surrounding highlands of South America, ancient agricultural systems continue to function, and the altitude protects from both floods and heat.
Wherever you are, three things will matter more than anything else: access to water, healthy soil, and a community of people who want to build a good and just society, not just survive.
Relocation alone won’t save anyone. It’s not about escaping; it’s about preparing to participate and giving the world that comes after the best possible foundation. Those who begin early will have a better chance of surviving. They may be the ones who rebuild something better. The challenges are enormous, but the alternative is an endless repetition that eventually burns itself out.
For decades, it has been popular to move out of the big cities to renovate an old abandoned farm and start a new life. My wife and I have lived in Spain for nine years — seven in different southern regions — but two years ago, we moved to the colder and greener northern coast of the country to avoid the increasingly hot summers. This trend is likely to grow rapidly in the years to come, but most people will likely feel trapped and remain in their current position.
However, if you’re one of those who struggle to come to terms with the situation, start by taking a hard look at where you live. Is it possible to do something that genuinely matters where you are now? If not, and you have the option to move, especially if you can work remotely, start thinking about relocating with a deeper purpose than just finding an affordable cost of living.
Ask yourself what would make it easier to hold your ground if the world continues in the wrong direction. Begin your research. Choose a place where you can live not just today but well into an uncertain tomorrow. And if you, for example, work in cybersecurity, online education, digital design, or software, you’re already mobile. That mobility might become your greatest asset.
Use it to settle in a place where you can build something lasting for yourself and others by learning the kinds of skills you’ll need to survive if the internet and banking systems collapse: the ability to grow food, repair tools, care for wounds, cook without electricity, and teach without digital devices.
You don’t have to become an expert in everything. Pick one area and begin. Learn to garden. Fix a bicycle. Start a compost pile. Learn the difference between a burn and an infection. Learn to tell stories that teach. Learn to share, not just online.
Then, find others. No one survives alone. And no one should want to. Look for individuals who are drawn to simplicity, who know how to work effectively, who think long-term, and who remain calm in the face of storms. Form a small circle. Don’t talk about fear. Talk about contribution.
No matter where we go or how prepared we are, one thing will always remain true: no one survives without human connection. A future worth living in will depend on those who remember how to care for others.
Featured image © Eldar Einarson
