The Other Environmental Crisis We Aren’t Discussing

What Happens When We’re in Survival Mode for Too Long?

The other day, I caught myself [doom] scrolling on Instagram, bracing for the upcoming election, when I saw this post from The New York Times on just how close the race is. Naturally, I dove into the comments section and saw the same sentiments I’ve been seeing all over the internet lately:

“How is this election so close?” 

“How could anyone vote for [insert candidate]?”

How did we get here?

I get that elections are always close, but this one feels different. With the behavior, statements, and even convictions of a former President, it feels like this election shouldn’t be so close. Yet here we are, likely heading into one of the tightest races we’ve seen.

I think it’s really hard for people to hear right now. And I find that the conversation and curiosity around this election lacks the depth and the nuance it deserves.  Instead there is a heightened amount of fear, shame, blame and judgment isn’t really helping us at all and only making things worse.

My perspective has less to do with the election itself and more to do with what I call “the other environmental crisis.” but it’s not in the air, the oceans, or the forests—it’s in us. People across the nation are operating in survival mode, stretched thin by exhaustion, distrust, and the chronic stress of simply getting by.

So to the person who’s genuinely asking, “how is this happening right now” here’s my take…

Our Human-Created Environments Have Failed Us

I can’t help but see the world through the lens of the systems we’re embedded in, or what I think of as our human-created environments (HCEs). These environments are just as crucial to our collective well-being and survival as our actual biosphere. But almost every HCE we live in today—work, social media, home life, even our health systems—is so damaged and so misaligned with human needs that we’re beyond crisis mode. We’re in survival mode. And this election is just one more reflection of how deep this shift really goes.

Environments are the surroundings and conditions in which a person, animal, or plant lives or operates. Take a plant out of the soil, and it dies. Take a fish out of water, and it can’t survive. Environments make or break us.

Human-Created Environments are the ones we’ve made for ourselves, the spaces and systems we live in and that impact us every day. To understand the intensity of each environment, consider how we spend our time on any given day. 

The average (emphasis on average) person has 16 waking hours a day and spends them something like this:

• 56% at work (~9 hours)

• 19% on social media or screens consuming content (~4 hours)

• 19% on household responsibilities (caregiving, cleaning, finances, cooking, etc.) (~3 hours)

• 3% on eating or exercise (~30 minutes)

• 3% socializing offline or in spiritual reflection (~30 minutes)

This is the air we breathe. And these are our main HCEs. This is our other oxygen source. 

How’s it going at work?

Work has become the biggest source of stress in our lives, with 94% of people saying they feel its strain every day. And it’s not just the workload—75% of people say their boss is their main stressor. Stress from work has gotten so bad it’s now the fifth leading cause of death in the U.S. On top of that, two-thirds of workers feel misaligned or disconnected from their company’s purpose, leaving them disillusioned, exhausted, and empty.

In these environments, survival mode becomes the default. People aren’t building or thriving; they’re just trying to keep their heads above water. With the constant vigilance and burnout, we’re seeing a culture defined by reaction, not growth. This isn’t just work stress anymore—it’s a crisis of purpose that’s hollowing out our workforce.

How’s it going online?

Social media, supposedly built to connect us, has instead become a breeding ground for disconnection, isolation, and unchecked misinformation. Algorithms feed us sensationalized content and, often, outright lies designed to keep us engaged. Platforms like Meta and IG drive people into echo chambers and extreme corners; 64% of people who joined extremist groups on the platform got there through its own recommendations. Meanwhile, people who spend more than five hours a day on social media are twice as likely to report symptoms of depression, showing the toll of these endless cycles of comparison and anxiety.

We’re stuck in a constant loop of performance and paranoia, where self-presentation trumps authenticity, and misinformation spreads faster than truth. In this environment, we harden ourselves, isolate from each other, and cling to whatever feels safe—even if it’s just an illusion. 

How’s it going at home?

Home life today is stretched to the breaking point. Financial strain, parental stress, and the demands of modern living have turned home into yet another battleground. In 2024, average American household debt soared above $101,915, with mortgage, student loan, and credit card debt reaching record highs. The U.S. Surgeon General recently issued an urgent advisory that nearly half of parents feel overwhelmed by stress most days, juggling financial worries, safety concerns for their kids, and the constant struggle to balance work and family.

This strain creates an environment where even home—the place meant to be a refuge—feels like a minefield. It’s no wonder so many of us move through life guarded, in survival mode, bracing for the next demand or crisis. When home stops feeling like a safe space, we end up more isolated, defensive, and worn down.

How’s our health?

According to the CDC, right now, 60% of U.S. adults are living with at least one chronic illness, and 40% have multiple. Nearly half of us have high blood pressure, a number that’s projected to hit 61% by 2050. But it’s not just chronic disease—it’s our daily choices and routines, shaped by a culture of convenience that often prioritizes speed and ease over health. Less than a quarter of Americans get enough physical activity, and most of us are missing critical nutrients from fruits and vegetables, often opting for processed or fast food instead. 

It’s  taking a toll, embedding chronic stress in our muscles, nerves, and organs. This points to a health crisis that runs deeper than individual choices, reflecting how our convenience-driven lifestyle and tech-centric environments are undermining our physical and mental well-being.

How’s it going with each other?

The loneliness epidemic and declining quality of relationships impact our daily interactions. With a growing fear of vulnerability, people are more likely to engage defensively or avoid deeper topics altogether. Social anxiety, a constant sense of being “on,” and the pressures of self-branding lead to short, surface-level exchanges. Whether with coworkers, family, or friends, the patience and empathy we need are increasingly rare.

Digital interactions emphasize performance over genuine connection, leaving us with shallow, transactional conversations that lack depth. Even face-to-face, we’re more disengaged, distracted, and afraid of being “too much.” The social fabric is fraying, and it leaves us in survival mode with each other, primed to protect ourselves rather than open up.

Both literally and metaphorically, we are suffocating and can barely breathe in almost every area of our lives.

The Tipping Point We’ve Already Crossed

We’re not just approaching a tipping point; we’re way past it. The systems we used to lean on aren’t just failing us; they’ve actively worn us down. Chronic stress, distrust, and division have pushed us into survival mode, leaving us perpetually on edge.  What happens when we’re in survival mode for this long?

We become exclusively focused on self-preservation and lack the ability to trust. 

Public confidence in the federal government has been eroding since the 1960s, with only brief moments of recovery. By 2016, just 19% of Americans said they trusted the government to “do what’s right.” Today, that number is around 22%, and trust has polarized further along partisan lines, leaving a void where institutional reliability and accountability once stood.

The economic divide only amplifies this mistrust. The wealth gap between the richest and the rest is now wider than at any point in the last 50 years, with the top 10% of earners holding more than 70% of the country’s wealth. For many, it feels like the economic system is built for a privileged few, leaving everyone else scrambling to make ends meet. This imbalance could make traditional democratic processes seem too slow, too messy, or too removed from people’s real needs to bring about meaningful change.

Trust, the foundation of healthy relationships and communities, breaks down as people prioritize self-preservation.

We can’t really feel anything, especially not the humanity in others. 

When we’re chronically overwhelmed, feeling deeply can become a luxury we can’t afford. To protect ourselves from constant stress, many of us unconsciously numb our emotions, tuning out not just our own pain but also the struggles and humanity of others. This numbing is a survival mechanism, but it comes at a cost: empathy and connection fade, and we lose the capacity to genuinely feel joy or sorrow with others.

As compassion fatigue sets in, empathy gives way to detachment—even resentment—toward others’ challenges. The social bonds that connect us begin to fracture, as self-preservation takes precedence over community care. In survival mode, it’s harder to engage in the kind of empathy and understanding that build true connection, leaving us more isolated and disconnected than ever

We are desperate for immediate relief and we abandon long-term thinking.

Survival mode focuses mental energy on immediate threats, shutting down parts of the brain involved in complex problem-solving and creativity.  We want people to understand and rationalize the current political issues but we’re not realizing that many do not have the capacity or mental energy to do so. 

For some, authoritarianism is about power, control, and maintaining racial and social inequalities. But for others, it’s genuinely a response to a deeper, survival-level anxiety—a sense that the current system is unworkable and that a strong hand might be the only way out. It’s not easy to comprehend, and it doesn’t mean it’s right, but this is what happens. When you feel like the system doesn’t protect you, like the rules are stacked against you, someone offering quick, black-and-white answers feels like a lifeline. It’s survival mode in action. And if we don’t acknowledge that for some, these options feel reasonable, our shock and condemnation or dismissing it as ‘irrational’ and ‘dangerous’  only deepen the divide.

Almost everyone and everything is a real and present threat. 

We are quick to question others’ motives and intentions, becoming suspicious or defensive.

Survival mode keeps the brain’s fight-or-flight response activated, making people more prone to anger, irritation, and impulsive reactions. People look for targets to blame as a way to explain their struggles. This can lead to scapegoating and dehumanization, where others are viewed not as people but as obstacles or threats.

Add social media into the mix, where misinformation spreads like wildfire in echo chambers, and it becomes easy to see “threats” everywhere. Rhetoric—promising to “protect” and “restore order”—starts to sound like security when the alternative feels like chaos. 

For those who have the capacity to care…

As we head into another intense election, it might be more critical than ever for those of us who have any capacity left for empathy, patience, or connection to lead with care. Survival mode has stretched many to their limits, leaving people exhausted, on edge, and focused solely on getting through. Understanding this doesn’t mean we excuse everything we see; instead, it means we approach each other with a little more grace and a little less judgment.

If you have the energy to show up for others, here’s how we might care for ourselves and each other, choosing connection over reaction:

1. Recognize Survival Mode When You See It: People acting out of anger or fear might be coming from a place of survival, not from their best selves. A little patience can go a long way—many are carrying more than we can see, and we may never know the weight they’re bearing.

2. Put Your Own Oxygen Mask on First: Caring well for others starts with caring well for ourselves. Whether it’s taking a rest, setting boundaries, or prioritizing mental health, self-care isn’t just for you—it allows you to show up better for others, with the compassion and patience they deserve.

3. See Humanity Beyond the Vote: Survival mode is narrowing—it reduces people to a few actions, like their political choices. But we’re all more than our votes. Remembering this doesn’t mean we have to agree—it just means we’re finding ways to see the person beyond the ballot and recognizing that at our core, we all need safety, respect, and stability.

4. Adjust Your Environments: Look at the environments around you—work, social media, home—that add stress. Small adjustments, like cutting down on news or creating moments of peace, can make a real difference, creating space for true connection, even if it’s just with yourself.

5. Check-in and connect with people 1:1:  Research shows that individual conversations build deeper connections, encourage openness, and reduce feelings of isolation—especially when people are navigating stress. When you reach out to someone individually, it sends a clear message that you care about them specifically, which can foster trust and a stronger sense of community.

This election season might be one of the hardest we face as a generation, but if those of us with the energy for care choose to handle each other with just a little more compassion, we start creating the kind of culture we actually want to live in. And that might be the most meaningful change of all.

Sending you so much love wherever you are.

m