The bottom line (here stated at the top in a Quinten Tarantino-like display of disrespect for logical progression) is simple though fairly inconclusive…
“It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.” – JRR Tolkien
Time is the driver for survival response. You can have too much or too little. The only possible counterpoint is you, what you know and how determined you are to succeed.
In the following example, the survival situation is judged based on the seven pillars of survival (SWIFFTT= ShelterWaterIFireFoodTimeTechnology). Green means imperative, orange means important, black means unimportant. Grey is the timeframe…
You’re hiking in winter and fall into a swift-flowing river. The initial survival situation is getting out of the river (SWIFFT=minutesT). Assuming you manage to get out and if there was a group of you, the timeframe for survival is as long as it takes to get back to your group. (SWIFFT=minutesT). If, however, its just you, the timeframe to counter the results of an impromtu swim stretches significantly. (SWIFFT=hoursT). Unlucky for you, you were alone and the helicopter won’t be back to pick you up for 10 days (SWIFFT=daysT). In this example, time is certainly working against you.
In situations where there is not enough time, the best decisions are easy – they are the ones that buy you a bit more of this precious commodity. However, if time is in abundance, the more time available for an event to occur, the more likely it will. Optomists will read this as “The longer I stay alive, the more likely I am to be rescued”. Pessimists might tend towards thinking “The longer I hike here, the more likely I am to be disembowled by a large mammal”. Both are correct.
On a much grander scale, civilisations rise and fall on the timing of events. The Norse colonisation of Greenland is probably the best contemporary example. An extended period of warm weather led to the belief that a Scandinavian lifestyle was achievable in Greenland. Nothing if not stubborn, the colonists faded to history sticking to their principles, as the natural weather pattern bore down on the settlements. If, with ~400 years of time up their sleeves to prepare for a cold snap, the population had even remotely adopted the practices of the native inuit, the colonists may have endured. Sure, not as a strictly Scandinavian culture, but their progeny would have survived. Similar snuffings of civilisation can be attributed to prolonged periods of anomalous weather changes. Jared Diamond, in his excellent book ‘Collapse‘ focusses on the actual environmental change associated with the demise of cultures. Some, not all, are overcome by a period of weather that they are already capable of dealing with – just not in that timeframe…
A modern example.
The more time available for an event to occur, the more likely it will. Optomists will read this as “The longer I stay alive, the more likely I am to be rescued”. Pessimists might tend towards thinking “The longer I hike here, the more likely I am to be disembowled by a large mammal”. Both are correct. Nature is a wonderfully impartial judge and provides numerous good examples. Weather is one of the best ones….
If bad weather is possible, factor it into your calculations as per Tolkien above. Time is a multiplier of weather risk – a process known to gamblers as ‘riding the odds’ comes into effect, potentially with life as the ante. Failure to recognise and plan for extreme weather may cause inconvenience, injury, death or worse still – embarrassment!
The fact is with bad weather that its not about bad luck – its just a question of how long between bouts. If you’re intending to make a base somewhere, with the intention that you can gradually increase your standard of living over time, it might be prudent to consider what conditions (winds, floods, snow, storms, droughts, etc) are likely to attempt to unwind all that hard work.
Without going into too many details, lets use the example of a cyclone in the South Pacific. On a day-to-day basis, the chances of being hit by a cyclone are low. So low that the average sane person does not batten down the hatches every day before going to work. If we change our viewpoint to one of intending to live in any one location in the South Pacific for twenty years (which sounds pretty good to me) the odds change significantly. Below is an image of storm paths over a twenty years, 1976-2006, generated from data from the Australian Bureau of Meteorology. As you can see, if you live on the coast or on an island, a storm is pretty much guaranteed.








