I have been thinking about the extremely wealthy people who are building bunkers and private compounds because they believe something is coming that the rest of us may not be prepared for.
They have the money to prepare in ways that most people never could. They can buy land, build underground shelters, store food and water, create their own energy systems, and surround themselves with security. If the world becomes unstable, they may have a better chance of protecting themselves than the average person.
The rest of us do not have that option.
Most of us simply live our lives. We go to work. We pay rent or a mortgage. We buy groceries. We raise children and care for parents. We worry about our jobs, our health, our relationships and whether we have enough money at the end of the month.
We are not building underground worlds where we can wait out whatever happens next.
Sometimes I wonder what the wealthy people who build these places imagine they will actually be surviving.
A bunker can provide protection. It can provide supplies. It can create a sense of security. Yet it cannot recreate the world outside of it.
Our everyday lives depend on millions of people we rarely think about.
People grow food. People transport it. People repair electrical systems. People maintain water systems. People work in hospitals, schools, factories, stores and transportation. People build, clean, teach, care and communicate.
That is society.
So what happens if the people who have spent enormous amounts of money preparing to survive are eventually left with fewer and fewer people around them?
Perhaps they can survive the first crisis.
Perhaps they can survive the second.
Perhaps they can survive longer than most of us because they had the resources to prepare.
Eventually, though, they still have to live.
Eventually, they still have to age.
They may have food stored underground, but they cannot store time. They may have security systems, but they cannot protect themselves from every human need. They may be able to protect their bodies, but they cannot purchase another person’s presence, kindness, knowledge or companionship.
This is where the idea of survival becomes complicated for me.
We often speak about survival as if staying alive is the ultimate goal. Yet human beings have never lived simply by staying alive.
We live through relationships. We depend on one another. We exchange knowledge. We care for one another. We create communities.
A person can survive physically and still be living in a very different kind of world.
Maybe the people building these bunkers are right about some of the dangers ahead. Maybe they are wrong. None of us really knows.
What we do know is that money can provide possibilities that most people will never have. It can buy protection, preparation and choices.
It cannot buy a guarantee.
More importantly, it cannot guarantee that there will still be a society outside the bunker that makes survival meaningful.
Perhaps, in the end, the people who have spent so much preparing to outlive everyone else will have to outlive one another.
That thought stays with me.
Because if the world outside is gone, what exactly have we survived for?
Maybe survival is not simply about how long we can remain alive.
Maybe it is also about the kind of world we create, the people we remain connected to, and what we leave behind for those who come after us.
