Illusions of Humanity

Humans make reality; or, rather, we build our society and psychology based on notions of what reality is or should be. These notions are generally understood to come from individuals; the citizens of a “free” country are the masters of their own destinies. They are capable of making decisions that shape everyday life and the future. Thoreau and Edwards contend the issue is more complex. In Walden, Thoreau proposes these decisions cannot be made freely unless the individual chooses a life and manner of thinking that allows for freedom; a century and a half later in Free to be Human, Edwards questions whether the structure of society and economics allows for intellectual freedom at all.

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Blochairn Fish Market

At 4:30 this morning I awoke to go to Glasgow’s fish market (with my Food Culture and Agriculture classmate, Kate). Fish markets are filled with bustling stalls of people, fishermen hauling in the morning’s catch straight from the sea, vendors shouting out the stock of the day—trying to get the best prices for whole fish, fishmongers wandering about trying to talk prices down between one vendor or another, everybody moving here and there to get fish as fresh as possible out in shop windows by the time people are standing in line to buy this evening’s dinner!

Or, that’s what it was like 25 years ago. This morning, as we walked into a nearly silent building, we saw a dozen or so men quietly moving Styrofoam containers filled with already filleted fish and ice into vans. Most buyers place orders electronically the night before for delivery the following morning. There were once 50 or 60 independent fishmongers in Glasgow; only a few remain today. “People don’t want to mess with fish” said one vendor, “they’d rather buy something pre-packaged and vacuum sealed from the supermarket.” The supermarkets, because of their size, bypass the fish-market altogether and buy fish at auction. This has greatly diminished the wholesale trade. “We used to have forty wholesalers here twenty years ago, now, well, look around there are only about eight of us left on the floor.”

There didn’t seem to be much on at all this morning. Everyone seemed eager to speak with us; it was as if the men lacked human contact. “It’s exciting to see a new face now and again” quipped one vendor. “It used to be filled with people, lively, you’d see your regulars; sometimes a fight to cheer things up.” One can just walk in and purchase fish directly from the vendor; but, apart from a couple Chinese fellows picking up lobster, there were few people browsing about. (The lobster were flown in from Canada! It’s apparently difficult to fish North Sea lobster in winter, but the market demand for off-season lobster is great enough to transport them by air.)

The facility has become less of a market in the traditional sense and more of a transport depot (indeed, it’s not a place one would readily walk to or stop in, it’s “outside” the realm of everyday city life just off the M8 highway). One vendor said, when he started years ago, his firm had one van for delivery. Now they run ten. It seemed more of a building for moving white boxes back and forth than a place where life and food connect. This came through in the stories of several men; “It’s soul destroying” said one. It didn’t sound like there was much draw to working in this business; where once one was part of the everyday flow of life, now there are crates and the back end of vans.

One man pulled out a (beautiful) fillet of haddock; “You know how to tell haddock, do you? Look, here the sides, see these dark patches? They’re called ‘Peter’s Prints.’ You know, from the Bible, Peter the fisherman.” The patches are on either side—marking where a human hand might hold the fish. We are losing this connection; the fish has become something distant, something we want canned or sealed and ready to serve. I head the sound of lobster claws against a Styrofoam crate; we’ve closed life and death away in insulated boxes and shipped it round the world.

Shame

For most of human history (or, “civilised” human history, if you like) the most disappointing thing one could do would be to shame one’s ancestors. To break family honour or lose face in society was (and still generally is) a terrible matter. To have a parent or close relative say, “You have shamed us all” could send a person into a downward turn for the rest of his or her life (which may be spent in psychological or physical exile depending on the severity of the transgression).

One’s family has a certain amount of honour built up over generations; to shame it is seen as a theft. An act of shame may draw down heavily on the account and cause it all to collapse. I think, to some extent, the responsibility (or the burden, if one considers the extreme expectations of some families) of holding up the family name has diminished. We are, in “the West” at least, so focused on the individual’s accomplishments and failings that past glories (or downfalls) are of little importance. This is, of course, both liberating and damming. If my forefathers were scoundrels, I’ll probably not be held to attest for their misdeeds; but we also tend to neglect the history of goodwill and actions of many who have passed on (this is particularly emphasised by the loss of extended families and the mobility of society in general; we are no longer of a place—neither bound to its history or its future).

It is the future we have to address. Whereas we once took care not to shame our fathers and grandfathers, we now take even less care to honour our children and grandchildren. Our focus, as a society, seems to be entirely on the present; in this, we shame both past and future generations. This is not a shame belonging to any one family or lineage; my shame spreads to your family and yours to mine. It is like a cancer than begins in one cell and spreads to another till, system by system, it consumes everything.

We are consumers of all (often we are collectively referred to as such as in the somewhat telling economic term consumer confidence). Our idealised frontiersmen forefathers might be forgiven for believing the Earth was an inexhaustible resource—we can have no such delusion. We are now openly stealing the fortunes of all who follow for our own temporary benefit. I’ve never heard someone openly wish a life of deprivation and despair for future generations; yet this is what we curse them with at almost every step. What greater shame or selfishness is there than this to lay upon the human family?

Note that I do not exempt myself; I am as complicit as the mass of others in a thousand little ways. But I do not wish to shame those who came before me—those who, no matter what we may now see as their missteps, believed they were building up a world for the better. I also do not wish to become a source of shame for those who follow. As I write this, I’m looking out my window at a group of children playing. I want none of them, as adults, to look back at me and say, “You knew; why could you not have been a source of change?” And what a radical change that must be.

Visit to Center for Human Ecology

I returned on Monday night from a several day stay in Glasgow; I was there to check out the Centre for Human Ecology at the University of Strathclyde as I’m looking into a Masters in Human Ecology (would be a two year commitment).
From the CHE website:

Human Ecology is about uncovering and understanding the connections between personal action, social systems and the ecology of the planet of which we are part. The challenge is to critically examine the way things are and to ask why and how they could be different; to find new and better ways of arranging our lives, our businesses and our societies; ways that reduce poverty and inequality, reduce the amount of resources we use, restore the environment and improve quality of life for all – now and for generations to come.

So, as you can see, that covers about everything! They are covering topics as diverse as agriculture to the workings of spirituality in societies. The classes meet in solid blocks over long weekends. From the brief time I was able to spend with the students and lecturers, I was greatly impressed with the topics they are discussing and the people involved. Class time is divided between weekend sessions at the university in Glasgow and longer (one week or so) sessions at various locations in the UK (field research trips in different cities, etc.).

I interviewed for a position in next year’s cohort; this is a very exciting opportunity for me (on a personal level, I’ve had a lingering interest in environmental studies for some time now; at the professional level, this is really a training centre for BuildaBridge. I heard arts-integrated language left and right through the weekend). On Friday evening, we had a group of former graduates speak (the centre has been in existence since the early 70’s) on what they are doing currently. There is much practical application of the skills acquired there in the social service sector (The UK seems especially welcoming of environmentally friendly design and planning).

So, the next big barrier (or, just the big barrier period) will be finding funding; the program itself is only about $14,000 USD for the two years; however, it’s significantly more expensive to live in Glasgow than where I am in the Czech Republic. Alternatively, I could live out in the countryside for a good bit less; however, that would not afford the community and networking connections available in the city. So we’ll have to see where that all balances out.

Waste

Three Thousand Dollars!
I’ve been considering ways to reduce waste in my everyday activities (and, concurrently, trying to economise where possible). When I last bought shaving cream, I picked up a bottle of the Tesco generic brand rather than the kind I usually use (which, here in the Czech Republic, is rather expensive). The Tesco brand set me back about $1; however, it’s not a very satisfying shave. Also, the disposable razor refill I normally use is even more expensive here than in the states (about $14 USD per 8 heads). I have, apparently, rather course beard hair and can only get about four or five shaves out of one of these heads before it starts chafing my skin or skipping and cutting. So, I go through a lot of these.

As I was falling asleep last night, I considered this. I’ve been shaving now for some years. How many razor heads and bottles of shaving cream have I used in that time? Many. Multiply that times all the men who shave using the same system; how much waste is that! On the back of the razor package there is even a pathetic little icon with a man tossing bits into a rubbish bin. This morning, I went a step further; how much have all those bottles of shaving cream and razor refills cost? With some estimating and averaging, I’ve come up with a figure around $3000 USD. When one derives a number (for anything) that is more than many people in the world make in a lifetime, it ought to call for some pause.

I have used these things because I was largely unaware of other options. I was bombarded with advertising stating that The best a man can get is basically the only thing a man can get if he wants a clean shave and wants women to walk up and stroke his face suggestively. There are, of course, other options. Men have shaved for all recorded history without paying such significant sums. I can reduce cost and waste hundreds of times by using some of the older, tried and true, methods. Of course, I’d have to learn to use them properly and it might not be as convenient. But how often do I need to shave in three minutes rather than five and a half?

It makes me wonder, to an even greater extent, what other waste (both in physical and financial resources) I regularly produce. Toiletries are obvious. I go through toothbrushes like nobody’s business; but, of course, I just wear out the head. Does someone make a toothbrush with a replaceable head? When I was in the Netherlands, I was given a bottle of “shower gel.” It was convenient; I bought several bottles and used them for the time I was there. However, one day it struck me: this stuff is expensive; it lasts for a relatively short time; every time I finish a bottle it goes back to the recycling facility to go through a whole energy-wasting process of re-use (or, many go to the landfill). On the other hand, a bar of soap comes in a paper wrapper (or some stores carry them unwrapped); is cheap; and it lasts for some time. However, according to the shower gel ads you won’t really be clean and manly unless you use our shower gel. . .which we’ve cleverly named after a tool that sounds all manly as well. Axe for it at your local retailer.

If you take a step back from the consumer everything mindset and look at it objectively, it’s really rather sad.

One person is tomorrow

Humans hold a paradoxical view of culture (by “culture” I mean the encompassing sphere of human thought: the arts, political systems, religion, economics, and so on). On one hand, we tend to view both history and the future through the eyes of our current culture; as if culture has not changed for some very long time and is unlikely to change for some time more. Such a myopic view robs us of history’s wisdom and binds us to a pre-packaged determined future. Concurrently, we also view past and future culture as something vastly different than the current human experience. Our forebearers (noting even the separation of one generation to the next) lived lives so different than our own that their experiences and accumulated knowledge are invalid for the present. Future generations will encounter a world so changed from this one that we may not even speculate their circumstances. Of course, neither of these views is entirely satisfactory; but both are necessary to address our current situation and plan for the future.

This paragraph, in its draft form, began “From an environmental viewpoint . . .” However, that is not the viewpoint that I, as a person, can fully comprehend. I can only hope to come from a human viewpoint—a human who is part of an environment. Each of us is part of a cultural environment and, though we tend to deny this with a thousand decaying whispers, part of the natural world. I cannot take responsibility for the Earth’s actions; she is, of herself, a most responsible organism. I can (and must) take responsibility for my own. Without recognition of this personal responsibility, there can be no health. No health of persons. No health of society. No health of the larger whole we call The Environment. The Earth will attempt to maintain what we call The Environment till her last recourse is exhausted. It is up to me to see what my place is, in context of the past and future, for the maintenance of the whole.

My role is largely influenced by culture. What does my culture say about an individual’s responsibility to the larger whole? This has obvious political and economic implications; however, I think we will, in short order, begin to move past these structures (a future we cannot fully speculate). We’ve done too much damage to both the cultural and natural environments to sustain our past and current systems of governance and economy. Humankind, though we have had many thousands of years to consider this, has not yet found the way by which we should live and relate to one another. We have, at various times, nearly discovered how to relate to the Earth; but this relationship has, for too long, been abandoned in favour of self-absorption.

Culture is no more or less than a collective decision by a group of people to live and continue to live a certain way in a certain place (and people can only take responsibility if they are “in a place.” One cannot take responsibility for an abstraction or “nowhere”). Culture is not immutable; the history of ideas does not necessarily determine the future of human thought. We have yet the opportunity to recover wisdom from the past and take knowledge from the present to determine a future that will benefit all. This is, in fact, the only choice we have that does not end terminally for everyone. If we do not take on this individual responsibility, the cultures will splinter. The Earth, no matter her best efforts, cannot maintain the prolonged negligence of so many irresponsible people. She has provided the necessary components to sustain life. We’ve had an unwritten but obvious agreement that she will continue operating as with such designs as long as we do no harm to the process. If, from the neglect of stewardship, we lay waste to life it will be our decision that breaks the deal.

A culture is as alive as the people who live it; it will continue on till a collective decision is made to cease (or till such time as it is no longer sustainable). Culture can change. It does evolve for the betterment of those living it. The culture of Germany today is far different that what presented itself in the 1930’s. Though we now consume the foundations of life and the lives of those after us, there is nothing keeping us from positive change. Culture is not wholly a language, religion, music, or dress; these things change and grow over time. Changing culture does not mean abandonment of these things; it should mean the enrichment of our better parts. We should not fear the oncoming change (even drastic change) if that change means the resolution of these current ills and the maintenance of life itself.

Finally, culture was never one thing and can never be tomorrow what it was yesterday any more than our children will live the life of our grandparents. We return to the paradox. The present is the future; we cannot put the future off till tomorrow. We must reshape culture to become what it must be beyond this day. If we do not, the opportunities for a common future of life and good humanity will fade; the trust we pass on to the future will be spent. We have no other future than one made now.

Good Science

A few weeks ago, while visiting my parents, I read a guest commentary by Jeffrey Jarrett in their local newspaper. Mr. Jarrett is the assistant secretary of the Office of Fossil Energy in the U.S. Department of Energy. The same commentary was apparently printed in multiple newspapers around the country (see here, here, or here). His article warrants debate; my response follows:

Science means something and must not be made to serve political opinion. I can appreciate the goals outlined for a “comprehensive, multi-billion dollar Climate Change Science Initiative;” however, much of the research and conclusions concerning climate change are extant. This is not a new or recently realised matter; over the past century, scientist have noted the cumulative effects of industrial activity and voiced concern. These voices were largely ignored.

We, as a society, rely on science as fact; there is little debate or confusion concerning science that aims to advance ceramics, toothpaste, or eyeglasses. There is no political capital won in arguing over it. However, the same science used to develop optics applies to observations concerning the environment. Mr. Jarrett’s commentary implies that scientists are a lot of confused mumblers; while, on the other hand, a group of government funded scientists will, by using “good science,” determine our best course of action. My question to Mr. Jarrett is, when did the previously understood science become untenable and what constitutes “good science” according to Mr. Bush?

Mr. Jarrett places great hope in technology to resolve the predicament we are in (that is, I’m assuming, if the good scientists determine there is a predicament at all). However, technology itself cannot become a solution if the problem addressed is insurmountable; it, of course, cannot provide answers if we ask the wrong questions. According to Mr. Jarrett, a large percentage of our energy is born from the consumption of fossil fuels; these fuels, as a source of energy, cause apparent harm to life; and we are uncertain of their near-term availability (both in terms of physical availability and political reality). Why, if this is the case, does the research and development of alternative sources of energy only garner a passing mention from the Assistant Secretary of the Office of Fossil Energy?

Half of Mr. Jarrett’s commentary is devoted to “something called ‘Carbon Sequestration.’” This title of his commentary (which, perhaps, was not chosen by the author), is “Technology may bury climate change issue for good.” [ title as printed in the Morgantown, WV Dominion Post ] This assumes two things: we can solve a problem by the same means it was created and, this new “good science” will put a permanent end to the issue. However, though the technology behind carbon sequestration is feasible, the permanence is not. The storage of CO2 in underground fissures does nothing to change its nature as a greenhouse gas; it only delays its eventual release into the atmosphere. Of major concern to climatologists are existing natural stores of methane frozen in permafrost and sea beds. If global temperatures do rise and these gasses are released, the greenhouse effect could increase by magnitudes. Of course, Mr. Jarrett would propose that carbon sequestration might delay that warming till technology offers a more viable energy alternative. But his suggestion that the offset CO2 be used to produce more fossil fuels seems to argue against that point.

Mr. Jarrett implies that, to explore energies far different than fossil fuels would, “. . .risk economic and social dislocations that really don’t bear thinking about.” His language is telling; since changing course would be so difficult, let us not even consider it. Let us not change our behaviour. Let us rely on “good science” and government initiative. Mr. Bush, addressing President Hu Jintao of China at a recent Asian trade summit stated, “I strongly support your vision, Mr. President, of encouraging your country to become a nation of consumers and not savers.” I suppose this is reasonable; why encourage economic or environmental thrift when “good science” will, no doubt, have ready solutions “in a few short years?”

No amount of governance can directly address the natural world; we cannot determine “environmental policy” by economics and political expediency alone. Our current situation is evidence of this; if we are given “answers” but are unwilling to undertake the social changes that may be necessary to accomplish them, no sum of money or scientific knowledge will aid us.

Update: my response above was printed in the Morgantown, WV Dominion Post editorial section on 17 December 2006.

The 30 Year Computer

Someone should make a computer that will last 30 years. Arguably, some made now might survive that long; however, none seem to have the surrounding support from the manufacturer to promote such long service. I have several older Macs that are still humming away nicely to themselves; but Apple itself no longer supports their software or hardware.

In the past 15 years or so, I have (or, my father has, when I was in school) spent nearly $15,000 on computer equipment. This spans my first “serious” computer, a Tandy 1000TX to my current MacBook Pro (I’m not counting the Commodore 64 from the 1980’s; though I have many fond memories of it). I’m not a “computer person.” I don’t sit for endless hours tinkering with them or collecting them or reading magazines and websites devoted to them; they are tools. I want one that works with little fuss or mental consternation on my part. When I do sit for endless hours, I’m actually using the computer to work. My main professional task now is writing; I arrange words and recommend the re-arranging of other’s words. For this I have a $3000 computer that can map out the stars in our galaxy and analyse their individual gas compositions whilst ripping my entire CD collection to an iPod and playing The Lord of the Rings on DVD. (This is the now obsolete model; I bought it five months ago—the new one can simultaneously order flowers online.)

I expect this computer to last or, at least, provide a sensible amount of service for three or four years. I only have this timeline in mind because I also edit video; the expectations for video processing, file handling, and etc. will have changed by then. If not for that, I’d imagine I’d have a longer span in mind (I know someone who still writes novels on a Mac from the late 1980’s and will probably do so for some years longer).

Recently, I came across a very simple word processor (or more like a text editor) called Write Room. It’s very easy for me to become distracted during the work day. I’m copyediting a document; oh, how am I supposed to list this; I’ll look it up online; what’s this; something is happening in Tibet; what’s the history of Tibet; better check my e-mail; should respond to that; I wonder what happened to this person; I’ll look her up online; and so on. Taking my aimless and slightly ADD mind into account, I began looking for something I could write with (besides, obviously and probably more sensibly, paper) that would reduce distractions. Write Room displays only a black screen and text; it’s similar to an old DOS word processor. Now it occurs to me, why do I need any of this extraneous stuff at all? Update: I’ve now started using LaTeX, which is far more potent with a bit steeper learning curve, but is amazing for academic writing.

In the basement of my parent’s place, there is an IBM Selectric typewriter from the 1960’s; it still runs perfectly. One can sit down, switch it on, put in a sheet of paper, and begin typing. It has, for more than 30 years, done what it was made to do. I’ve a camera that can use lenses from the past 50 years and the same film that’s been manufactured from the past 100 or so. It’s built like a fine watch and, if maintained, will outlast me (of course, maybe nobody will actually make film for it by then, but this is a separate discussion). Why, with all the technology and accumulated design experience from the past 25 years of home computers, can someone not produce a computer with the same principle? This would be a computer that just deals with words. Writing and, perhaps, e-mail would be its main and only apparent purpose.

Here is my challenge as a list of attributes this computer should have (to all the computer designers and manufacturers who, I’m sure, read this blog daily. Keep in mind, each of these components must last 30 years; they must be durable and serviceable):

  • It would have a really good keyboard (like the old IBM clicky keyboards or the newer Mac laptops. Writers eat around their desks, the keyboard must be easily cleaned of dust and debris. Multiple language sets and interchangeable function keys are a must).
  • The case should be metal (or of a plastic that will not yellow over time).
  • The case would be aesthetically pleasing; maybe make it like a cross between an old Royal Typewriter and a Tandy CoCo—something that has a bit of retro design. It would also be beautifully made, like a piece of fine Hi-Fi equipment.
  • There will be no need for a mouse. The user could use one if he or she wanted. But, we are just talking about text; we should be able to navigate with the keyboard.
  • It will have an internal switching power supply for worldwide use as well as a 12v input (and the 12v input would not be some fussy little proprietary plug, it would be an XLR type connector like those used in pro film and video gear).
  • It would have limited expandability (it’s just going to do what it does).
  • It will have VGA, DVI, and plain old video out.
  • It could possibly have a matching monitor (portrait or horizontal orientation).
  • Of course, it will have a printer port (matching printer as well with the same 30 year specs? It would have to be something that prints with ink that will last and that won’t have some toss-away ink cartridge that one can’t find anwhere after a couple years. Spooled typewriter ribbons anyone?)
  • There will be a “disk drive.” Not only the drive mechanism, but the media has to last 30 years. I’m not sure what that means as far as design. Some optical media is touted as “100 year archival;” does it have a built in CD drive? Some manner of MO drive? I recently found some 3.5 inch floppies from the early 90’s and read them with no problem; however, I do hear many stories of writers pulling out their WordStar floppies from the 80’s and going through all manner of permutations to get information from them. There should be a dedicated effort to commit to some format for the storage and archiving of written materials.
  • The computer itself would have internal storage (all solid state, no moving parts inside if possible) enough to store and index the writer’s work for the next 30 years (obviously, this would depend on how prolific he or she is; but we are just talking about words and one can pack a lot words into the types of memory we have at hand now).
  • The manufacturer would offer a service for all users that backs up the system onto a remote server (there would be an ethernet connection). Over this connection, the manufacturer would assess the “health” of the computer as well and perform whatever updates are necessary. There could also be an e-mail service specifically for users of this computer, as well as a service that connects writers to their editors (the whole system would need to promote easy collaboration between writers and editors or groups of writers working on projects).
  • The underlying system would be UNIX or Linux; should be Open Source and accessible. I’m imagining, since this is such a durable and serviceable unit, it would also appeal to scientists and others working in extreme environments.
  • It would have several of the best text-based word processors and editors ported to it; in lieu of the “stock” set-up, one could run one’s preferred word processor (though I think the manufacturer, in order to reasonably guarantee long-term service and compatibility, would standardise on one set-up).
  • It must run efficiently; as it will not need a super-processor, this should be the most power-efficient and coolest-running computer ever built.
  • It should have at least a 10 year warranty.

There must be room for a computer like this on the market. It would appeal to all of us who fondle our Moleskine notebooks and obsess over what pencil to use. The pen and notebook companies have long realised the mystically aesthetic component to writing; why (except, perhaps with the exception of Apple) have no computer manufacturers? Actually, why doesn’t Apple make this? They have the technical ability, for sure. This would be a niche market that would not drain extensively from their core sales. They certainly have the marketing clout and know how to promote it well, The Writer’s Computer—a legacy computer for generations to come. As I said above, as long as I’m working with media, I’ll still need a second computer (which, rather argues away the financial aspect of this proposal on my part). I doubt there are many hold-outs on the concept of buying a computer for writing; but I’m sure there are many writers who buy cheap PC’s to work with. After all, why would I need a fancy Mac just to do word processing? Apple, make a computer like this that appeals on multiple levels specifically to writers and you could open yourself up to a whole new market! You’ve already got the UNIX system down for this, just strip away the wonderful GUI you’ve put over top of it and make the most unique text-based computer ever. I will volunteer to beta test for sure.

Update with some further thoughts: I’ve recently upgraded to the latest version of OSX; it’s. . .quite keen. My further question is: Apple, do you have the nerve to make a computer akin to the one outlined above that runs the current OS and then support it for 30 years? Beyond this, is it possible to make technological goods that last indefinitely? E.g a watch from 1890 can be maintained and run “forever”. Why can we not aim for something similar with computers?