Can technology save us?

Technology, in my very non-professional opinion, will not be able to save us from ourselves. I have no PhD on the matter, but history, I believe, will bear out my conclusion since it is based not on hope, but on observation of fact and logic. Perhaps too Spock like for some, but it gets the job done.

It is a fact that all technology, no matter how simple, requires upkeep and repair. The recent bridge collapse in Minneapolis highlights this basic problem with technology. While it has not yet been determined exactly what went wrong, undoubtedly, based on previous similar disasters, it will be one of two things. Error in construction/engineering (human error) or lack of proper maintenance (human negligence).

If this were an isolated event a different conclusion could be drawn but, this sort of event; bridge collapses due to faulty engineering or lax maintenance; has a long history dating back as far as even the Roman Empire and beyond.  Here are just four examples of bridge failures. A brief look back into history will show there are many many more. I have selected bridge disasters  in the U.S., however this is an international problem as well.

• In 1876 the Ashtabula Bridge in Ashtabula OH suddenly collapsed, taking with it a train filled with 158 passenger and crew. 92 dead, 48 injured. The cause: A fatigue crack that was not found due to a deficient inspection routine.
• On December 15, 1967 the Point Pleasant Silver Bridge in Kanauga OH suddenly collapsed killing 46 people, injuring 9. It was determined years of corrosion had been allowed to build and maintenance was neglected and practically non-existent. Vibrations from rush hour traffic shook the bridge apart after a major component failed due to corrosion. After this disaster the federal government mandated National Bridge Inspection Standards (NBIS) and required all bridges to be frequently inspected. This was nearly forty years ago and it is still being neglected!
• On July 17, 1981 the Hyatt Regency hotel walkway collapsed killing 114 people and injuring more than 200. It was determined there was poor engineering of the supports and the engineer that signed off on the final report was convicted of gross negligence and lost his engineering license.

• On June 28, 1983 the Mianus River Bridge collapsed sending vehicles into the river 70 feet below. Only three people died but the disaster brought to light that deferred maintenance on bridges was still a major concern. Inspections had not been done on scheduled intervals and not enough money had been budgeted to even pay to inspect the bridges. This was twenty-four years ago and it is still being neglected.

Fast forward to today when a bridge in Minneapolis suddenly fails taking an unknown number of lives and sending dozens to the hospital. It is likely exactly the same problem we had in 1967 and 1983. We have great technology and some very advanced technologic skill, but lack of maintenance reduces that technology to piles of scrap. With technology we can now build higher, span further, go faster, fly higher,communicate farther, drill deeper and harvest more of the earths resources in a shorter period of time than ever before. But should we?

Look out a window right now and also drive around your nearest city or town in your mind. Take note of everything you see. Now go back in time to imagine your surroundings as they were were just one-hundred years ago. Does the world look much different? Is it cleaner and safer now than one-hundred years ago? Has the industrial revolution been kind to the world it seeks to change? Have we advanced or declined in our respect for each other and the world in which we live?

Everything you see around you that is man-made is aging in some way and needs maintenance. Much of it is well past its prime and cannot be refurbished. It can only be removed or replaced. What is it going to cost to maintain all we have built over the last couple hundred years? If we tore it all down, what would it cost to rebuild? Bridges are only a small part of the equation. All technology and innovation must be maintained or replaced, big and small. Our most recent innovations, the computer and cell phone, lead very short lives and must be constantly updated or replaced. Much more frequently than older technology since they are technologically fragile. In fact all technology is fragile though and decays rather quickly. Do we have the resources to sustain all that we have built and manufactured in just the last one-hundred years? If we don't, what will happen to our society, our economy, ourselves?

Nature, given enough time, will repair itself and bring about it's own balance. Technology does not, it simply decays and crumbles leaving us with a mess to clean up. Other advanced civilizations existed before us, there may be others that follow. We find remnants of these advanced civilizations buried under sand in the desert or covered with vines in the jungle, seemingly abandoned without a clue as to why. I often wonder if they discovered the same thing we will soon. It is not possible to harness nature through technology and it is fruitless to try. The end is always a return to the earth and living a more natural and simplistic way.

Right now, in the U.S. we have bridges, dams, tunnels, buildings, rail lines, steam lines, gas pipelines, oil pipelines, water lines, sewer lines, levies and much more, in need of update and repair. Much, if not most, of this technology was built by previous generations and has been maintained with band-aids due to limited budgets and human resources. The bill to fix the bridges alone is estimated to be 190 billion dollars. That is billion with a B. The bill is about the same for dams. But what of the aging steam lines, brittle power grid, leaking pipelines,crumbling dams, failing levies, collapsing tunnels, etc. What is it going to cost to repair or rebuild those? Who is going to pay for it?

In the Appalachians right now we are literally tearing the tops off mountains so we can capture the coal underneath. We then destroy this coal in furnaces and cast it to the sky as particulate matter. This particulate rains down on the surface of the earth spreading pollution. What will be the affect on our world from this? See this previous blog.

I spoke with an engineer a few days ago who told me he will be busy for the next ten years just tearing down aging power plants that are far past their prime. The cleanup of these dirty plant sites, he says, will be massive but will most likely left for another generation. There are very few plans in the works right now to replace these plants since the money is not available. How do we maintain our thirst for electrical power when our electrical power grid cannot keep up? If our electrical generating ability fails us what happens to all the technology based on its power? Is the technology we have constructed to hold nature at bay strong, solid and sound?

Technology comes with three price tags. The cost to build, the cost to maintain, and the cost to tear down. History has shown we are great at building things, lousy at maintaining them, and slow to replace. Tear down and clean-up is generally inherited by a new generation. I am in the generation that has inherited the first wave of clean-up, hence we have Super Fund clean-up sites now with no money or resources to cleanup. The problem is too massive. My children will inherit this bill and problem and my grandchildren will be left with determining how or if we should rebuild. What legacy are we leaving in our wake for these future generations?

What we have wrought on this earth seems new and wonderful. Enjoy it now because it is probably not sustainable. Some experts may say that viewpoint is wrong, that we can overcome any adversity through technology, but the experts have been wrong many times before. History has not proven out that viewpoint. Man has been on this earth for eons of years. Civilizations and empires have come and gone. Nature and the elements has been the only constant. It is much bigger than any of us and is a force to be reckoned with. I dare say there is no manmade technology that can completely control it. Technology is convenient, new, bright and seemingly wonderful but it also has a heavy price tag. Do we have the budget to pay it?

(Note: The continuation of Mondays post will be posted here tomorrow.)

Update:  I wrote and published this post before I received my morning newspaper.  This mornings front page included a story entitled "Water, sewer lines at risk of failing in  New Orleans. "

Fifty-million gallons of water are leaking now from the system every single day.  This is a pre-Katrina problem although Katrina did exacerbate the issue. It is worried that soon the sewage lines will fail and leak into the water lines making the water no longer potable.

Quoting from the story, "We don't have the confidence now to say the system won't fail," said Robert Jackson, a Sewage & Water Board Spokesman. "We're basically holding it together by tape, by glue, by spit, whatever you can get ahold of."

The cost to repair the system: $5.7 billion.  Ka-ching! Composting toilets are looking cheaper every day.

Ugly!

I never knew Poverty had such an ugly face, until I met Rich. I had just turned seven when my parents told me about Rich. When they described him he seemed like a cool guy and when they told me we were going to go live with him, I got pretty excited.

It was only a couple weeks later that we moved in with Rich. We never again went back to visit Poverty and I don't even recall we said a proper goodbye. We just packed up the few things we had, moved from Noti to Seattle, and moved in with Rich. We didn't tell Poverty where we were going because we had no intent to ever see him again, and we certainly didn't think we would miss him.

My parents were pretty happy when they first met Rich. I was happy too because he fed us food I'd never tasted before, bought me lots of things, even took us on great vacations and gave us indoor plumbing. It didn't take long before we all learned to love Rich because Rich gave us so many things. I still remember the first Christmas with Rich. He bought us so many things we didn't know what to do with them all. I just took them all to my room and put them under my bed. I'd play with them later.

Sometimes I imagine Poverty is following me, hoping to be friends again. When I look back he's not really there but I start to remember when we used to live with him. I'm not sure Poverty was that bad of a guy, actually. Oh sure, he didn't bring us very many things, and the food he gave us was a little scarce and kind of plain, but I do remember our whole family talked more, and had more fun, when we lived with him. He seemed more real than Rich. I mean Rich bought us lots of things; he still does; but he is just not friendly. He's just Rich, and for some reason when he tries to be personable he just seems so...plastic.

Others have told me I am fortunate to live in the same place as Rich. I guess so. But I don't remember we were all that unfortunate when we lived with Poverty. It's just that things are different now. Before we lived with Rich I never knew you could buy food in little aluminum trays, inside a box, that you just popped in the electric oven and then ate while watching TV. I had no idea toilets could have little handles that sent water shooting through until Rich gave us a house with indoor plumbing. I was completely unaware that vacation is something you did once a year, taking you to places far away, but Rich took us to lots of them. Rich gave me all these things then and he is still giving me things. The only thing he asks in return is that I take good care of things. But even when I don't, or when I've lost what he gave me, he just buys me a new one. My house is stuffed with the things Rich has bought me. Every time I move I realize just how much stuff that really is. Oh, I'm thankful to Rich, and the things are nice, but sometimes it just seems like a lot of work making sure I still have all of it. I often worry that some of my things will end up missing and I think some are. Rich doesn't ever get too upset though, he just buys another one.

Not too long ago I saw Poverty again while on a trip to Mexico. It seems he moved there after we left and I don't even think he recognized me. Rich was with me, and since the two of them don't have much in common, I didn't get a chance to talk with Poverty, or see how he was doing, what he had been up to. Rich was constantly reminding me of the places I had to see and things I was supposed to do. Reminded me that I didn't have time to stop and talk to Poverty or the family he was living with. Part of me wished I had though. Perhaps I could send Poverty some money later, I thought. I don't remember if I ever did.

Poverty's face was much uglier than I remembered as a child. But the family he was with didn't seem to care and, in fact, they were having a small party and seemed to be genuinely having a good time. Everyone was smiling and laughing, the kids were playing in the dirt, the adults were watching them play and talking. It appeared Poverty still didn't give many things but, strangely, none of them seemed to care. I wasn't sure what to make of that since Rich had assured me so many times he was making me happy with the things he was buying me. I think this may have been the first time I began to wonder if Rich was right. I wondered if he really was making me as happy as I thought . These people seemed so much happier than people I know.

I thought about Mexico for a long time afterward and one day I just asked Rich why he didn't make me happy. Rich simply pointed to everything he bought me and looked perplexed. "But what about those people in Mexico living with Poverty", I asked Rich, "why can't you make me happy like that?" Rich merely shrugged his shoulders, scratched his head and then walked away. Didn't say a word; like he didn't care about my question. He seemed cold and distant. He made me feel empty, depressed and lonely inside.

I couldn't get Mexico out of my mind, so I drove to the place where I used to live with Poverty, see if I could remember if I was happy then. It took me a full day to get there and find the old house where I used to live, but it was still there. Even the outhouse and the chicken coop were just as I remembered. The fence that held our goats had rotted away mostly but you could still make out where the posts had stood. I peeked in the windows of the house, a few were broken out and all were dirty, and then I looked through the cracks in the walls. No one lived here anymore, it still slunk to the right just like it used to, but it didn't look much different than when I lived here as a child. Even the porch, still intact, dipped toward the ground the same way. Most of the roof had fallen in and, for just a moment, I even thought I heard Poverty calling me from the kitchen window. It was an illusion but my mind raced with memories and slipped back in time to 1959. I remembered again the cold nights my whole family huddled together under blankets and told stories trying to stay warm before sleep. I remembered waking up in my mothers arms, feeling her warm breath on top of my head, my dad outside already feeding the goats and chickens before hauling their manure to a large pile in the back. As I stood there I almost thought I could smell breakfast cooking; fried corn meal mush. I even thought I saw my brother motioning for me to come play through the hole in the wall.

Something brushed my back and I woke from my daydream. It was Rich. "Come on, we gotta go. This place is ugly. Who'd want to call this place home? We can stop at the mall on the way back. I'll buy you something. Make you feel better. You look depressed."

Rich was right. I was depressed and a few tears had even trickled to my cheeks but it was not because of the ugly place I used to live. It was because, in some small way, I actually missed Poverty. Poverty had taught me a lot about love, family, survival and I never really thanked him for that. Poverty had kept our family together and back then I didn't even know his face was so ugly. I just knew my family was everything and when he lived with us he made family seem so important. Poverty always made sure we needed each other more than him and gave us no choice but to love each other. If our family had not loved and cared for each other we would have frozen, starved or possibly died. Poverty left us no choice in the matter and I thought for a moment how cruel that really was. I realized how truly ugly Poverty is compared to Rich. But while it was clear that Poverty was cruel and ugly, it was also true that Rich never really paid much attention to anything but the things he wanted to buy and, unlike poverty, he never did anything to hold our family together. I looked at Rich's face intently for a long moment. He did have a much better face than Poverty, but perhaps that is because Poverty never cared about his own face, he just made sure we looked good to each other. It left me with a lot to think about.

I knew Rich was right though, I couldn't stay here. I wanted to stay a little longer though, remember just a little more. It felt good to remember those days living with Poverty. I stayed about another hour, walked into the woods where we used to play and looked back towards the road. I realized, as I looked back I had known Rich far too long for this to ever be home again. I knew I probably wouldn't want it to be. When I drove home I would once again be among the things Rich bought me and the luxuries he afforded. I knew I would still enjoy those things but here at the old place where I lived with Poverty there were faded memories that warmed me on the inside. Memories of a tight knit family struggling together for survival. They were good memories filled with love and I didn't fully understand my feelings that day. I missed poverty but I was drawn to the life with Rich. But the things he gave me over the years never made me happy for long, never once gave me warm memories like this. Just a lot of snapshots.

Rich looked impatiently at his watch as he stood by the car waiting to take me back home. His artificial tan, gold showy rings and great looking clothes looked totally out of place here. There was no doubt he had a lot of appeal, but now I felt more distant for some reason. I wondered if he was truly my friend. He barely looked my direction, continued looking impatiently at his watch, wanted to go.

I knew I had no choice but to go with him. My life had become entangled in the Rich way of living and he was part of me now. I turned toward the old house one last time to see if Poverty was really standing out there somewhere. He wasn't and I saw only glimpses of an ancient memory that brought another tear to my eye. I turned to leave. Rich looked very appealing in his fancy clothes and shiny rings but in an odd way he made everything around him look uglier than it really was. Even me.

------------------------

I think often about that day I returned to my old home and the life I lived with Poverty. Rich and I have had quite a few discussions about that day and about Poverty. I've suggested they speak to one another, see if they could find some common ground, but he is against it and I don't think they ever will. I know within myself that I would never want to live with Poverty again, he is ugly and cruel, but there is also part of me that is tired of Rich and his self-centered ways. I admire both Poverty and Rich but that, I fear, is an odd admiration since they are so very different. I heard recently of a city not far away where there is a great prophet that long ago resolved this same dilemma and could teach me many things. Someone told me his name was Simplicity. I'm headed there tomorrow to find out what he has to say. I think Simplicity might have the answers I seek.

pov·er·ty (povÆÃr t"), n.
1. the state or condition of having little or no money, goods, or means of support; condition of being poor; indigence.

rich (rich), adj., -er, -est,n. –adj.
1. having wealth or great possessions; abundantly supplied with resources, means, or funds; wealthy:

sim·plic·i·ty (sim plisÆi t"), n., pl. -ties.
1. the state, quality, or an instance of being simple.
2. freedom from complexity, intricacy, or division into parts.
3. absence of luxury, pretentiousness, ornament, etc.; plainness: a life of simplicity.
4. freedom from deceit or guile; sincerity; artlessness; naturalness: a simplicity of manner.

----to be continued on Wednesday 08/08/07---

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

Today I split from my normal dialogue, and occasional diatribe, on sustainability, consumerism, pollution and the like because August is officially "Happiness Happens" month. So be happy, it's the law...well sort of.

The constitution promises you 1) life---well if you woke up this morning and you are still breathing you got that one nailed, 2)liberty--uh that one is under attack a little and we just won't go there right now, and 3) the pursuit of happiness---hey, it's the pursuit you're promised, not happiness so, get over it.

Anyway, if you live in one of the states shown below, then back in 1999 your governor declared August officially "Happiness Happens" month. So if you live in one of these states you must be happy. It has been officially decreed. The rest of the states couldn't decide if they were happy or not and you citizens of those states will just have to do the best you can. Maybe go see a good movie or something. We'll think happy thoughts about you from time to time and hold out hope for you next year.

Oh, I should also mention that the governor of Texas was happy back in 1999 but I am not sure whether he is happy right now or not. He didn't take my phone call so I wasn't able to find out.

Happy States and the responsible Governor

Alabama - Don Seigelman
Connecticut - John G. Rowland
Idaho - Dirk Kempthorne
Indiana - Frank O'Bannon
Iowa - Tom Vilsack
Maryland - Parris N. Glendening
Massachusetts - Areo Paul Cellucci
Nebraska - Mike Johanns
Nevada - Kenny C. Guinn
New Hampshire - Jeanne Shaheen
New Jersey - Christine T. Whitman
North Carolina - James B. Hunt, Jr.
Oregon - John A. Kitzhaber
Rhode Island - Lincoln Almond
Texas - George W. Bush
Vermont - Howard Dean, M.D.
Washington - Gary Locke
West Virginia - Cecil H. Underwood
Wisconsin - Tommy G. Thompson

Well, I guess I have to tie this into the theme of my blog somehow so, here goes. Here is your project for the month to achieve more sustainable happiness. (Phew, got the tie in accomplished.)

1. Smile at at least ten people you don't know and give them a genuine warm hello this month.

2. Clean out at least one messy closet, cupboard or drawer and give the stuff you don't NEED away. Notice I said NEED not WANT. Meditate on the difference if you must. It has been a hard lesson for me to learn too and I understand completely.

3. Pledge to give away at least twenty one-dollar bills to persons less fortunate than yourself this month. They're all around if you pay attention and a dollar or so means a lot to them. Don't be judgmental, just give it freely and without strings. If you really want to be happy, give them a five.

4. Forgive someone that does not deserve forgiveness. Trust me, that really makes you happy inside.

5. And lastly, do something fun and quit working so hard. When you die, your in box will still be full. Then what are you going to do? Don't worry, be happy.

One last thought. I have been thinking a lot lately about "time pollution". We are all in such a hurry now that our concept of time has been polluted. As a result we are no longer cordial to one another. Society tells us we are expected to go fast. Fast food, fast cars, instant soup, quickie car washes, minute rice, express lanes... (Have you noticed I like lists?) Anyway we get mad at our

"Oh, look at the time, gotta run, I have another blog to attend to. Sorry, we'll do lunch someday. Ciao"

The World Clock

Yesterday I added a really cool feature called "The World Clock". Using official sources such as the CIA Factbook, census bureau, and the like it keeps a tally of pretty much everything. Births, deaths, oil produced, cars produced, how people died, species extinct, the list goes on. The clock can be found at the bottom of this page.

The clock has a few radio buttons on top that allow you to change the readout to year, month, week, day, or now. If you click "now" everything starts counting up from the moment you clicked.

Spend a little time playing around with it. Watching the numbers tick by can really give you a lot of insight on the health of our world. Just one thought I had is the fact that terror inundates our news but if you watch watch the death ticker on the bottom of the clock, it is cardiovascular disease that is the real terror since it is nearly totally preventable with a proper diet. But that is a subject for a different blog entirely.

p.s. I have also cleaned up my act a little on this blog and added labels to my posts. They are over there to your left and down just a little. That should make it easier if you want to come back and search for buried treasure...or perhaps toilet paper.

Vacation

Well, our vacation is finally here. And this year it is going to be much more relaxing and slower paced. And that is not just because I am getting old. I can still keep up with the young guys. I just don't want to anymore.

Our normal vacation usually begins with a long list of things to pack, followed by days of packing, repacking, adding and eliminating, then finally bundling it all up, putting it by the front door, rechecking to make sure we have everything, worry a little that we forgot something, and then on the day before leaving retire to bed late for the long travel day ahead.

The morning we leave,in order to avoid the exorbitant parking fees at the airport, we usually drag all of our stuff to the corner and wait for a bus. The bus then takes us to the light rail, which takes us to the airport where we ride the escalator, walk down a super long corridor,find a check-in line, check the bags and then deliver them to a gruff TSA person who sizes up whether our bags should get the mini-nuke treatment or the full service. We then wander off to wait, have our socks sniffed and our carrion checked by the vultures at the security checkpoint and if we are lucky we won't have to strip to our altogether in the little booth while the dentist wannabe checks our cavities. (I've been lucky so far and have only had the mini-nuke treatment and never the full service.)

Once through security we relax a bit and would not even consider leaving back to the real world again. The airport people make this easy since the corridors are lined with shops and restaurants galore. They are all overpriced and lousy but hey, what else is there to do except watch a bunch of tired people. I think it is important to mention here that to have a proper vacation one must first suffer. This is the reason vacation sentences must be served a long way from home. The further the better.

Watching people at the airport gets boring fast because no one is really themselves. If you act normal at an airport you might draw the attention of someone important and then you would need to explain why you stopped looking at your carrion for a few seconds and answer questions about people you don't know. This is why we usually make the cursory wander through the magazine shop to pick up the latest copy of AdBusters and then settle into a seat at the gate and quietly wait, peering above the magazine from time to time and take sucks off our $2.99 bottle of water. When the plane arrives we watch all the people get off to see if they are still breathing or look particularly nauseous. I also try to check out the flight crew to see if they actually look old enough to fly, or conversely...are they over the hill and should I bone up on my CPR skills.

Anyhow, we always buy the cheap tickets so we end up watching everyone else get on before us. When we are finally able to shuffle down the jetway, we try to smile innocently at the flight attendant who is smiling back but really just wondering if we have any contraband shampoo or creme rinse in our carrion. We slide down the aisle to find our seats and hope this time we are not next to someone with flatulence or wearing cheap perfume. We fit ourselves into our seats, properly stow our knees under our chins and then triple check to make sure the tray table is in the upright position. We don't want problems with he flight attendant. We must rely on her for the next few hours for our food and drink. Then we watch the flight attendant give a five minute speech on the proper clicking of seat belts, how to breath through a tube should one side or the other of the plane disappear at 35,000 feet and the proper method of flotation on a seat cushion. I believe you are supposed to throw your arms over the top and look skyward. Have you ever heard of a person being rescued in a plane crash that was floating on their seat cushion in some lake somewhere? We feign attention to the speech but since it is a rerun, we just get out our neck pillows and brace ourselves firmly in the reading position for the long three hours of sitting perfectly still while holding out hope our legs don't thrombose before the plane touches down. I don't want some doc on vacation removing a clot from my leg with a ball point pen at 35,000 feet, do you? I didn't think so. This is fun!

After reaching our destination, the process works exactly in reverse with the exception that the TSA vultures no longer consider us dead meat and pretty much ignore us unless we running through the airport talking about how great the jihad convention was. Once we finally arrive at our room, we flip on the TV and fall asleep weary from the first long day of our vacation. Tomorrow we attack our vacation with all we have left.

I think I have pretty much had it with that type of vacation. This year we are vacationing much closer to home and using our own vehicle. No stress, just a leisurely drive east of the mountains where we can hide from the rain, do a little walking, ride a horse, raft a river,get some rest, read a few books and probably watch a few videos. Carbon footprint for this vacation, about 20 gallons of gas and the same amount of electricity we would use at home. Expenditure for the jet vacation. TONS of fuel. Literally! There is also rumor that jets flying in the upper atmosphere are having an egg beater effect and affecting weather patterns. Who knows what the outcome of that is.

Anyway, I won't be writing any posts over the next week or so, but I don't think too many people are reading my blog yet anyhow. As soon as I can figure out a good hook like "No Impact Man" who has given up toilet paper I should garner a lot more attention. Until then, I am happy just to write to myself and pretend.