Aenean Age or American Eschaton?

Tell Me, Oh Muse, Of the End of the Bronze Age and the Start of the Iron

Based on the comments on my latest article, Predictions and Prophecies for 2025, it’s clear I’ve induced a measure of confusion as to what I expect for the future. Do I expect the Dawn of a New Civilization or do I expect doom?

To answer this, I will return to the original inspiration for the Aenean concept: The Aeneid. It takes place in the aftermath of the fall of Troy and is a post-apocalyptic story of rebirth. It’s a tale of doom first, struggle afterwards, and rebirth later. Now let us imagine, if you will, the scene…

The thousand ships of the Achaeans surround Ilium, which men call Troy. Before the walls, all-conquering Achilles parades in a chariot of bronze, the ruined corpse of Hector drawn behind him in dust and blood.

King Priam has called a war-council for the Trojans. With their champion slain, the Trojans are pessimistic and depressed. The possibility that Troy might fall looms over them. The Cybelean priest Jayemgeus rises to speak…

Jayemgeus: The fall of Troy is inevitable. But not because of war. It’s inevitable because we depleted our soil with our misguided irrigation practices, because we cut down the cedars for our misguided shipbuilding projects, and most of all because we depleted the tin that is needed to make bronze. Bronze is the basis of our entire civilization and without it, we are doomed!

Aeneas: There are literally boats full of people outside trying to get in here, and they don’t seem too worried about our lack of tin. For that matter, there are abundant resources across the sea. There might even be uses for metals we don’t even know about!

Priam: Don’t interrupt the priest, Aeneas.

Aeneas: But—Sorry, your majesty.

Priam: What do you advise that we do, oh wise priest of Cybele?

Jayemgeus: There’s nothing we can do. Your wives and children will be taken as slaves and concubines by the Achaeans. Those who avoid that fate will become humble shepherds with stone tools eking out a meager existence on the now-barren hills of Asia Minor. The idea that we once lived in a thriving “Bronze Age” with ocean-spanning trade routes will be just a myth. Eventually our people will go extinct, our city will be forgotten, and it will be as if we never were. That’s the way of things. Best to make your peace with destiny.

Priam: Wow, that’s pretty black-pilled, Jayemgeus.

Jayemgeus: I wish I could offer hope, but I cannot. The real Trojan Horse was the depletion of the tin mines of Anatolia.

Priam: What’s a Trojan Horse?

Jayemgeus: You’ll find out.

Aeneas: Listen up, you defeatists. If Troy falls, it’s not going to be because we ran out of tin. It’s going to be because we were stupid enough to allow Helen to immigrate here in the first place. If we had just minded our own business, the Sea Peoples—

Helen: Oh, so immigration is to blame? Racist.

Priam: Let’s not descend into bigotry, please. What’s done is done.

Aeneas: Fine. It’s still an if. Yes, the strategic situation is very bad. Yes, our walls are weak — but they haven’t fallen yet. Defeat is not entirely inevitable. Achilles isn’t invincible… I bet he could be killed with one well-aimed shot! And if we take him out, the Achaeans will need to use treachery to win. If we’re canny enough not to fall for their ruses, we might, just might, save the city.

Jayemgeus: What a fantasy. I’m sure a random shot to the ankle will just take out the all-conquering lord of the Myrmidons. That’s as likely as the cunning Odysseus getting lost on his way home.

Priam: I agree with Jayemgeus. Defeat is inevitable at this point.

Aeneas: Look, I agree it’s unlikely we’ll win. But our defeat isn’t inevitable and pretending that it is helps no one. Perhaps we should reject the assumption of inevitable catastrophe and actually plan for success?

The Assembly: *muttered silence*

Aeneas: OK, fine. You want Troy to fall, so be it. But even if Troy falls, that doesn’t mean we need to humbly submit to a pathetic existence as impoverished stone-age pastoralists in the ruins of our once-great civilization while our women are treated like chattel by our conquerors.

Jayemgeus: Actually that kind of is what it means.

Helen: But I don’t want to be forced to breed with Achaeans.

The Assembly: We know, Helen.

Aeneas: Well, I disagree. Accepting the outcome Jayemgeus proposed is a choice we’d make. There are other choices. We could — just talking out loud here — learn from the lessons of the fall of Troy. We could innovate. Maybe instead of using bronze, we could learn to use iron, for instance!

Jayemgeus: The metal that falls from the heavens in meteorites? Please. There’s not enough of it and it’s nearly impossible to work. Fire can’t even burn hot enough to melt iron. How are you going to cast armor and weapons from it? You live in a dream world.

Aeneas: Why are you so sure it’s impossible that we could have an iron-based civilization? Look, it would be a struggle, but it would be a heroic struggle. And if we succeeded, maybe we would build a new civilization, an “Iron Age” civilization, that will go on to be even greater than what came before. It would take time, a long time, but we could become even mightier than before.

The Assembly: *loud guffaws*

Jayemgeus: What a fantasy. You could try but you’d fail. This whole “Iron Age” you are dreaming of will never happen. What are you going to do, sail to Italy in a fleet of ships, find this star-metal lying around, and magically figure out how to replace bronze? All that would happen is you’d sink on the way to Italy, everyone who followed you would die, and no one would remember your names. That’s the inevitable outcome.

Aeneas: You keep saying “inevitable.” I do not think you understand what that word means. Yes, we might fail. But even if we failed, it would have been a noble failure. Better to die struggling for a better future then to live accepting a shitty one.

Jayemgeus: The future you’re offering is the shitty one because it ends in failure. The future I’m proposing is the better one - the best one available. Cities are smelly, farming is bad for the soil, and our so-called “Bronze Age civilization” will be remembered by our descendants with loathing for using up all the precious tin.

Priam: It seems, Jayemgeus, you do have a policy suggestion, then?

Jayemgeus: Well, yes. It’s to do the opposite of what Aeneas says. We need to stop wasting what little tin we have left on forging weapons and armor. We need to take peace on whatever terms the Achaeans will offer. And we definitely need to put an end to Aeneas’s ridiculous fantasies. In fact, we should just burn all of our ships so he can’t even try. Our descendants will be happier and healthier the sooner we stop making things worse and start investing in renewable sheep-based stone age economics today.

Aeneas: My answer is this.

Aeneas draws his sword. It is crudely made, but the blade is of the sky-metal iron, and with it, he etches a Roman eagle onto the great table around which the council is gathered. As the assembly bursts into outrage, the hero storms out through the cinematically-convenient archway that exits from the council hall.

The final panel shows a bumbling assemblyman accidentally knocking over a candle, causing the maps on the table to go up in flames, obscuring with fire and smoke the departing form of Aeneas.