
As usual, the news is replete with stories about economic crises, the possibility of armageddon through nuclear proliferation, irreversible ecological devastation, and species eradicating epidemics. Popular culture has also continued to churn out doomsday scenarios from a dying sun in Danny Boyle's Sunshine to the zombie apocalypse of the Walking Dead.
Socially, the fear of the end of days, and the concern that the end is nigh, has contributed to the rise of 'preppers', survivalists who are pre-emptively organizing and mobilizing for catastrophic emergencies. And a whole commercial assemblage has arisen alongside the prepping phenomena .
One of the most interesting components of this assemblage is the Survival Condo, a residential real estate development project designed to facilitate five years of 'off-grid' living. Constructed within a former Atlas F missile base, the survival condo:
- offers individual ownership of a residential unit within a superstructure that offers the highest level of physical protection, redundant infrastructure for power, water, air, and food; as well as "shared or common" facilities for extended off-grid survival. This definition also includes the concept of the individual owners forming an "extended family" where everyone shares the responsibilities for group security, operation and maintenance of the facility, new daily functions for education, cross training, aquaponic farming, medical support, and as many other tasks as possible to create the highest quality of life for the "extended family" while operating in "survival mode".
Thus, as the marketing materials state, the survival condo provides '...the coolness of a missile base, the protection of nuclear hardened bunker, and the features of a luxury condo'.
A couple of perversities strike me here. The first is that the survival condo project is an extreme form of insurance. At the same time, it is also impractical. Unless one lives in the structure permanently or moves close by, the likelihood of reaching the survival condo during a catastrophic emergency is probably slim. The second is a larger order observation that stems from the first. I find how the survival condo project commodifies representations of catastrophe and measures that one can take to mitigate against them extremely interesting. These representations tap into the desires of certain individuals by offering capacity far in excess of what might be necessary for survival. The emphasis on luxury-- a value that focusses on the appearance of living 'well' --precludes asking an important question: would one really want to survive a species ending event?