Sleeping Bag Theory

I have a theory that may explain the ills of the world.

You zip up your tent. In a tent like ours there are a few zips to deal with. The cold air infiltrates inside the tent somewhat, so it is not until you are safely zipped into your sleeping bag that you feel comfortable, safe somewhat. You are wrapped inside your little world, even though the fabric of a tent is thin, it separates you from out there.

It’s now 2am and you are awoken by what can only be described as a screaming match at a campsite nearby. The argument is vicious, full of bad language from the mouths of young, obviously drunk men. Something about leaving someone behind. The volume of the argument makes it obvious that most of the campsite must have also been awoken (our two children slept thought it all!), yet no one protests, no one gets out and asks the young guys to keep it down, take it elsewhere. No one, including me.

Why? The Sleeping Bag Effect. You see, I’ll put up with the noise because the cost of getting out of my comfy sleeping bag to do anything about it is too great. So I will cuddle up and pretend I can’t hear it, in the hope that it will go away, or that my comfort will win out and I will be able to get to sleep despite the noise. It is only when the pain of being kept up becomes too great that I will leave my comfort and do something.

How often do we hear of ills in the world, children hungry and dying, habitats of animals being destroyed. Mostly, these cause us no discomfort. We are securely wrapped up in our sleeping bags, so we may experience a moment of sadness, anger even, but then roll over and try to get to sleep. We set up our lives in the most comfortable sleeping bags we can afford, cuddled up, relaxed inside. 

I wonder what it takes for us to get out of our sleeping bags to do anything?

I fear it may not be until the walls of the tent are starting to be blown in.