I’ve said book knowledge is not as good as practical skill, and I stand by that. However, I also believe that book knowledge is better than no knowledge at all.
In my hallway, the one that leads from my inside door to the exterior door and the garage door, there is a large bookshelf. The bookshelf contains a variety of books on different topics. There are books on basic house carpentry, midwifery skills, cooking over a campfire, emergency survival manuals, and the Foxfire series (minus the really new ones that came out in the last decade). Inside the house are MANY bookcases, often with duplicates of the books on that outside shelf. We generally don’t touch the books on the outside shelf, though we do reference them once in a long while. Most of the time we use the inside versions. Or I use the versions I have on my phone, because I also keep digital copies on an old cell, that I can access even if the grid goes down.
Every time I find a book that covers a broad topic that isn’t already touched on, I get a new book for that hallway bookshelf. That is the bookshelf that contains enough information to live comfortably after a collapse of civilization. How to barter, how to set a broken bone, how to make cheese, how to find clay on a riverbank. Everything I can think of. The bookshelf is always growing, because there are always more things I can add, more knowledge that might be important someday. The bookshelf isn’t just a collection—it’s a strategic resource, organized by the levels of knowledge needed for survival.
There are different levels of knowledge, from an emergency or prepping standpoint. The first level is what you KNOW. This includes stuff you’ll need to just be able to pull out of your brain in an average emergency. If you don’t have at least some practice with the first level of knowledge, you’re just fooling yourself about being prepared. Everyone should know how to assess an injury (even if they don’t know how to treat it), and how to make someone more comfortable if they go into shock. Everyone should know how to start a fire, cook over it, boil water on it, etc. Everyone should know how to cobble together a shelter. Everyone should know how to connect with their people in case the grid goes down and you can’t communicate electronically.
The second level is stuff you have a bit of knowledge about, but need reference materials for. I know how to grow a garden, but I have books that go more in depth for if I have to keep a LARGE garden. I know how to raise chickens, but I have books that talk about some of the stuff I didn’t have to get into because I live in the world today and can buy stuff at the local feed store. I know basic first aid, but if it’s something more complex, I’m going to be checking my first aid and basic medical books before doing anything. The idea is to know where to look, if you need to.
The third level is the big one, where you don’t really know what you don’t know. I’ve never built a house, but with the carpentry books, a few hand tools, and some practice, I could learn the basics—starting with simple structures like a shed before tackling anything larger. If society crumbles and I MUST learn new skills, that’s what the rest of the books are for. It might be that I don’t read them, but I give them to my kids to read, so they can learn a useful skill in the apocalypse. Or maybe someone comes along who has some knowledge but needs my “never done it” books as their reference books.
Our hallway bookshelf is more than a collection of pages… It’s a lifeline, a repository of knowledge that could sustain my family and community through any crisis, no matter how dire. Each book represents a skill, a solution, or a spark of hope for a future where self-reliance might be all we have. By building this resource and practicing the skills it holds, I’m not just preparing for myself but for my children and neighbors who might one day rely on these books to rebuild, heal, or thrive. Preparedness isn’t about fear; it’s about empowerment, ensuring we’re ready to face whatever comes with confidence and capability.
You don’t need a hallway bookshelf to start. Begin with one skill—learn to start a fire, grow a tomato, or bandage a wound. Or find a book, a mentor, or a community to guide you, and practice until it’s second nature. Then add another skill, and another, building your own library of knowledge, both on your own bookshelf and in your mind. The world may never collapse, but the peace of mind that comes from being prepared is worth every moment you invest. Start today, because knowledge is power, and power is what you make of it.
You hit on an important point there Ally. Knowledge is very important, and there are various levels of it.
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The most important is the overall theory (my term) of how stuff works in general. There are dozens of examples but basically be like Tom Hanks in Castaway. He remembered fire needs air, and was able to make fire. He built a crappy shelter and improved it, etc… etc… etc… Meanwhile, his entire life up until then was troubleshooting problems with international deliveries. Not exactly a survival skill, but… troubleshooting…
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Which reminds me. If you do not have a copy of The Art of Troubleshooting on your bookshelf, get one.