[rewrite this title] How to Survive the Apocalypse: The Essential Item Most Preppers Overlook | Emma Brockes

When your presidency seems rocky just a few months in, you know things aren’t quite on track. Recently, French media revealed the government’s plan to distribute a survival guide to every citizen this summer. It’s a 20-page document meant to help people prepare for natural disasters or health threats. But if we’re being honest, underlying these worries is the specter of a nuclear threat. The key takeaway from the guide? In case of a nuclear event, remember to shut all doors and windows.

My father often reminisces about a similar situation in the 1980s when Buckinghamshire County Council released a pamphlet for surviving a nuclear attack in Aylesbury. Fortunately, we didn’t quite need it. Should society have crumbled, my mother’s impressive stockpile of Tupperware and plastic bags would have been valuable in a trade-based system. Plus, for a brief while, we could have savored the culinary treasures of thawed decades-old gravy and bolognese sauce from our garage freezer, much like finding a caveman preserved in ice.

My mom never got her moment of validation from my dad’s occasional decluttering urges. Meanwhile, my own efforts at emergency preparedness could definitely use some improvement. I experienced the famous two-and-a-half-hour blackout in New York in 2019. While Broadway went dark, people found solace in singing old classics and debating about whether to order pizza. Turns out, surprisingly, pizza remained on the menu. At that time, I had a makeshift emergency kit with outdated baby formula and tiny water bottles. I vowed that the next time, I wouldn’t rely on a ladybird-shaped flashlight or waste my phone’s last 2% on Twitter.

That promise could use an update for today’s realities. We now live in times where defense spending overshadows foreign aid, Russia poses a recurrent threat to Europe, and the US may not always come to the rescue. The French survival guide, reportedly, will include emergency contacts, radio channels, and advice on joining civil defense efforts, like volunteer firefighting.

This relies on some order prevailing. My local tube station in London is one of the deepest, but thanks to countless apocalypse shows, I know that going underground isn’t a good plan. You’re better off heading to a national park up north, where you can hopefully avoid any cannibals and hunt for food, or holing up in your apartment till the initial chaos fades, making it relatively safe for a supply run.

And you definitely want to be prepared. After the blackout, I bought a flashlight so bright it doubles as a defensive tool if you can trick an attacker into staring at it. I’m also considering hunting down its charger. Stockpiling is on the agenda too, though I think the French guide missed an important point: alcohol.

This is no joke. A savvy prepper knows that if society collapses and money loses its value, alcohol’s importance—whether as a painkiller, disinfectant, or tranquilizer—skyrockets. While you’re stocking up on water bottles and canned goods, make sure to swing by the liquor store. Grab a few top-shelf whiskeys and a bottle of gin, which must remain untouched until the bombs drop.