Category Archives: The Atheist’s Pulpit

One believer’s view.

7 Billion Day by 10-31-11 – 9 Billion of us by 2050 [hat tip to AE]

Halloween fright: 7 billion humans | MNN – Mother Nature Network by Russell McLendon

It took about 200,000 years for modern humans to reach the 1 billion mark in 1805, but then suddenly there were 2 billion of us in 1927, 3 billion in 1960, 4 billion in 1974 and 5 billion in 1987. The 6 billion mark came in 1999, and 8 billion is due around 2025. We’re widely expected to hit 10 billion before the end of this century. …

Global human population (in billions), 1 AD - 2011 AD

In this first graph, notice how the time intervals change. Most of the bars skip 200-year gaps, but after 1800 the gaps shrink to 100, 50, 30, 20 and finally 11 years (I used 11 for the last one just so it would end on 2011). If humans were reproducing at a more linear rate, messing with the time intervals could distort the data, making our growth seem slow or stagnant. But that doesn’t happen. Compare the gaps between 1800-1900 and 2000-2011, for example: It took 100 years for us to grow by 736 million people in the 1800s, but now we’ve added 906 million in just 11 years.

Halloween fright: 7 billion humans | MNN – Mother Nature Network

Why current population growth is costing us the Earth | Roger Martin | Environment | The Guardian

Our population is rising while our ability to sustain life on Earth is shrinking – we must change before nature does it for us. by Roger Martin guardian.co.uk, Sunday 23 October 2011 14.00 EDT

The 7 Billion Day is a sobering reminder of our planet’s predicament. We are increasing by 10,000 an hour. The median UN forecast is 9.3 billion by 2050, but the range varies by 2.5 billion – the total world population in 1950 – depending on how we work it out.

Every additional person needs food, water and energy, and produces more waste and pollution, so ratchets up our total impact on the planet, and ratchets down everyone else’s share…

Since we passed one billion in 1800, our rising numbers and consumption have already caused climate change, rising sea levels, expanding deserts and the "sixth extinction" of wildlife. …

Perhaps we can feed 9.3 billion people in 39 years’ time – I don’t know. We’re barely feeding seven billion now. But Norman Borlaug, accepting his Nobel peace prize in 1970 for his "green revolution", said: "I have only bought you a 40-year breathing space to stabilise your populations."

On a finite planet, the optimum population providing the best quality of life for all, is clearly much smaller than the maximum, permitting bare survival. The more we are, the less for each; fewer people mean better lives.

Roger Martin is chair of the charity Population Matters

Why current population growth is costing us the Earth | Roger Martin | Environment | The Guardian

The remedy requires better education for everyone – hard to provide to starving people. More autonomy / freedom for women to choose – unlikely in societies where women are property or subordinate. But if Gaia doesn’t kill us all, plagues will do what War is no longer effective at doing: wipe out masses. We’re too stupid to control ourselves; Nature will fix this problem for us, in a sweeping and unpleasant way.

World population – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

currently estimated to be 6.97 billion by the United States Census Bureau, as of October 25, 2011.[1]

World population – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

About 7 Billion Actions

7 Billion People | 7 Billion Actions; a Global Movement for all Humanity.

About 7 Billion Actions

Remembering the absolute quiet 10 years later

I actually have a *fond* memory from 9/11. In the days following, commercial and private aircraft were grounded. Walking around the park and neighborhood, I was struck by the silence, a solemnity, a held breath. Even deep in wilderness, I’ve heard jet noise. As I thrilled to the peace, I was sure everyone noticed and, when the noise returned, surely everyone would object. But, no. I’ve given up any hope that we might mark the occasion with real silence longer than one commercial. Even evidence that noise is killing us can’t dull the din. Peace.

“Let it rain, and protect us from this cruel sun.”

Albuquerque’s rainy season usually starts by the second week of July. Most afternoons, clouds build up over the mountains, mountains themselves, billowy white high above and gray-black below. In the late afternoon, the clouds move out, a procession of kachinas, dumping rain quickly over parts of the city, leaving other parts untouched until the next storm. The temperature can drop 20 degrees in minutes. Seldom is the sky full of clouds, but a mix of storm, blue, and rainbows. Rain during the night is much less common and more likely to be what some call a female rain: gentle and nourishing, unlike the violent and raging male rain (I’m insulted but can’t really quarrel with this).

New Mexicans know this cycle by heart. We long for it. When it begins, we run to the window, step out onto the porch, or pull over in our cars. After the rain, we are all smiles.

This year is different, beginning with a dry and bitter-cold winter, then a spring windy beyond comprehension. We’ve gone months without any rain. The monsoon stumbled in weakly at least a month late. During the day, thin clouds come and go, but little or no rain. If the rain comes, it’s at night and sometimes furious. Last night, lightning and thunder woke us at 1am – no time for a fierce storm. Still, this morning, everyone I met spoke of the rain and smiled.

Grief is the Price of Love

Lucky Dog died two years ago today, at 2:10pm. We miss him still, of course. I think we always will. He was a gift from the Universe and was with us during the very best times over 10 years.

It was a bad year for dogs close to home: Shy (Joe), Gracie (Earl & Marcia), and Kaboom (Paul) – all within a few blocks of here, all friends of Lucky. Survivors know that the end of our loved ones’ suffering is most important and outweighs our own pain in grief. Lucky suffered longer than, and more than, he should have, but we needed to be together as long as we could.

The Heaven of Animals

The meadow is his home now.
Up high in the mountains,
he lies in the shade
in a circle of trees
among the wild iris.

He yawns and stretches,
flips over
and rolls and rolls,
groaning in pleasure
in the tall sweet grass.

At any moment
he will sit up, alert,
ears sharp,
sniffing the air,
eyes intent on something
we can’t see
off under the trees.

His world is perfect now,
though I know he misses
the pats, the belly rubs,
the love in our voices:
lie down.
stay now.
good boy. mjh

7/7/2004

I wrote this five years before Lucky Dog died, remembering a beautiful spot the three of us discovered. And, imagining the inevitable, I sobbed. This supports my hope that “any horror could be faced / and become a poem.”

mjh’s blog — Lucky Dog (8/11/09)

Death is the end

I’m an atheist. Among my friends, this isn’t controversial, even though most of them are not atheists. At one time, to be educated and a decent person, one was required to allow others to disagree and, as importantly, to consider that one could be wrong. These days, that attitude is considered weak: doubt is a despicable character flaw to many. Not so among my friends.

That said, I believe there is no god. I’m as certain as I can be.

Recently, I startled some friends with a different, but consistent, belief: there is no immortal soul. Death is the end of the individual. I am as certain as I can be.

The response from several people was “but you don’t (or “can’t”) know that.” While that is true, it doesn’t change my certainty. When I die, the atoms that make me physical will migrate. The energy that animates me will dissipate. That which makes me Mark Hinton will vanish. Yes, that makes me sad and angry. While that is true, it doesn’t change my certainty.

For the real me to survive death, my appreciation of irony must survive, as well. If we find ourselves together in the Hereafter, feel free to laugh at me. If you precede me in death, please haunt me. I’ll do the same for you. If it turns out I’m wrong, I owe you a Coke.

Not surprisingly, there’s not a lot of support for the view that there is nothing after death: it’s a serious downer. Absolute death runs counter to well-established traditions, even otherwise intellectual ones. If I were trying to win an argument, I might point out that many who believe in god or something after death do not value life as much as I do. But I’m not arguing, and I’m trying hard not to mock. Believe what you will. You can’t know for certain. There is no knowing – or anything else – after death. I’m as certain as I can be. Love life while you can.