A couple of meetings ago, the speaker at our local Vietnam Veterans of America (VVA) chapter meeting was a state VVA official, who briefed us on VVA affairs at the state and national level. One of the matters mentioned was the possibility being discussed at the national level, of “retooling” the organization for a new mission so that the organization could continue to exist after most of the old Vietnam veterans had died off. I spoke in response to this point. I mentioned, in essence, that I have been an observer of organizations for my entire adult life. I stated that it has been my observation that, at a certain point in their existences, most organizations turn considerable energy and resources toward perpetuating themselves. I opined that the world is full of organizations and that most of them came into existence for a purpose. I suggested that they ought to devote all their energies and resources to fulfilling their (presumably legitimate) purposes, and then go gracefully out of existence when their former purpose was either fulfilled or overtaken by events, there being no shortage of organizations. I gave as an example The Grand Army of the Republic, the organization of Union veterans of the Civil War. They had a purpose, other than merely fraternal. (They gave us Memorial Day, for example.) When most of the Union veterans had died off, though, they declared the 1949 National Encampment at Indianapolis to be the final encampment. They knew when to “turn out the lights” and so should we.
It began to dawn on me that this idea was a much bigger and more important idea than planning for the termination of organizations. It occurred to me that “preparing for the end” is appropriate for almost every aspect of human life and activity on scales both great and small.
What characterizes the human is not only consciousness, but self-consciousness; not only self-consciousness, but consciousness of mortality. One might say that a proper life story for a human person is a saga of coming to terms with his or her own death. If we know we are going to die, sooner or later, then why not prepare for it responsibly? If we are to have possessions, we must provide for their orderly disposition, either before death or through an up-to-date will. If we are to be survived by loved ones, we must see to their well-being by intentional preparations through that same last will and testament. We must save society and our loved ones grief and expense by living wills and durable powers of attorney. Would we wish to be kept technically alive in a permanent vegetative state just because we have provided no instructions, causing great expense to our families and/or society, and denying closure to our loved ones?
But let us go on to other important, but less emotional, matters. Should not the builders of a skyscraper provide a demolition and salvage plan, along with sufficient funds in escrow, at interest, to pay for the demolition and salvage? Should not mining operations that create reservoirs of toxic chemicals provide explicit procedures for neutralizing and disposing of these chemicals, again along with sufficient funds in escrow, at interest, for funding the disposal? Should not the operators of nuclear power plants know, before ever going into operation, exactly how the nuclear waste can be neutralized, and provide in advance for that disposition?
Then there are even smaller but, nevertheless, very important matters. Plastic bags are a convenience to merchandisers and customers alike, but should not there be explicit provision for compulsory collection and recycling, or for the composition of the plastic to be such that the bag disintegrates into something harmless in a very short time? Should this principle not apply to other plastic items as well? If we produce smoke or other products of combustion, should we not be responsible for containment or remediation? Fortunes have been made by shifting of costs – to the environment, laterally to others, or to posterity.
One of the objections to our current great “wind farm” projects (of which I generally approve) is that no arrangements seem to have been made for the ultimate removal and recycling of the thousands and thousands of tons of concrete foundations.
America’s manufacturing might and national resolve met the challenge of World War II, and it is forgivable that, under the pressure of national emergency, careful preparations were not made for “cleaning up.” There are former military installations all over the country, all over the world, containing unexploded munitions or leaking harmful chemicals into the soil and the water table. The Army Corps of Engineers is generally responsible now for remediation, but has neither the funds nor the personnel to accomplish more than a gesture here and there. As I fly across the country in my Piper Cherokee, I see dozens of World War II training fields that did not become civilian airports. The ground, usually ground that was prime cropland, is still covered with acres of concrete ramp and runway.
Let me be perfectly clear. Nothing, nothing, should be built or manufactured or otherwise brought into being by human action or decision, without thought and preparation as to what is to become of it.
The time has come for humans, individually and collectively, to plan to the end and for the end as a natural, normal, and requisite part of all human activity.













