The guys at the shop pronounced my 5-year-old Mac "vintage." I brought it in this morning with a fuzzy, vibrating screen, hoping they could doctor it back to health. To my resigned disappointment, however, the technician started off with the usual speech, "well it will probably cost you more to fix it than..."
"I'm an environmentalist," I interrupted. He looked at me patiently from across the counter - sympatheticly, even. "I don't want to buy a new computer," I explained. "How much will it cost to fix it?"
"$200 for labor and $600 for parts." Ouch.
Next to me, another technician was counseling a fellow victim, "hard drives only last between 3-5 years," he explained matter-of-factly.
I recently replaced my hard-drive. In fact, I replaced everything wrong with my computer last summer. And now this. A five-year-old "vintage" computer, with a broken part they don't make anymore. Gaaaaaarrrrrghhhh!
We are building a disposable society. How can we expect to build a society to last when every component is vintage, outmoded, obsolete, after five years?
My frustrating morning reminded me of a German video that depicts human society from the perspective of "rock people." Check it out - it's worth a watch: http://youtube.com/watch?v=0fp5hbwdW3E
This speaks for itself.
In the meantime, I didn't buy a new computer. Mike and I are sharing computers for now, which is not exactly a state of deprivation. We'll see if it lasts...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Yeeeeeesssss!!!!!
Read this NYT article by Michael Pollan! He articulates it so well...
It's another great day for gardening, so let's get started.
And again, happy Earth Day!
It's another great day for gardening, so let's get started.
And again, happy Earth Day!
Web Jam for Earth?
I'm sitting here drumming my fingers, getting all antsy and annoyed because the website for the Earth Day Network is taking forever to load, and I need to get the number to call Congress and ask for action on climate... Then I thought to myself, maybe it's taking forever to load because there are so many people trying to access it? Frustration turned to excitement in an instant!
Well, it just finally loaded.
In case you are also waiting to get through the Earth web jam, the number to call is 202-224-3121.
Here are the instructions: "Tell them the current global warming proposals in Congress are inadequate. Tell them you want:
Well, it just finally loaded.
In case you are also waiting to get through the Earth web jam, the number to call is 202-224-3121.
Here are the instructions: "Tell them the current global warming proposals in Congress are inadequate. Tell them you want:
- A moratorium on new coal-burning plants,
- Renewable energy,
- Carbon-neutral buildings
- Protection for the poor and middle class in the new green economy."
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Collapse... or transformation?
Financial firms out of business, student loan companies bankrupt, $116 per barrel of oil, bee colonies collapsing, airlines in turmoil, thousands of Americans losing their homes... are these the first signs of collapse?
A couple of years ago, I was seated on a bus next to a right wing, neo-classical economist. Both of us were stunned to see how differently we viewed the world. We were talking about Kerala, India, a socialist state that I had read about in Bill McKibben's book "Hope, Human and Wild." McKibben uses Kerala as an example to illustrate how it might be possible to reduce consumption and still have a high quality of life - Kerala has a low GDP but high rates of literacy, life expectancy and other quality of life indicators.
The economist took a different view. Kerala saddened and puzzled him. How could a place with such high quality of life indicators not develop economically? This exchange bewildered both of us. The economist asked me why it would be necessary to reduce consumption or economic growth - why that would be a good thing. 'Because,' I explained, 'I am worried that our current rates of consumption will outstrip the world's resources.'
'But Malthus [who, about 200 years ago, predicted that population growth would outstrip our ability to grow food] was wrong,' argued the economist. 'We are capable of sustained economic growth.'
I argued that 200 years or so is not enough time to discredit the basic premise of Malthus - that infinite growth is not possible in a finite system.* I had recently read "Collapse" by Jared Diamond. 'The Anasazi lived in the American Southwest for much longer than 200 years,' I explained. 'They are no longer there today.' Easter Island, the Maya, the Greenlanders, the Anasazi, they all probably took the same short-sighted view that we do now. Collapse is possible - 200 years is not long enough time to disprove that.
Diamond defines "collapse" as "a drastic decrease in human population size and/or political/economic/social complexity, over a considerable area, for an extended time." Sometimes I sense that colleagues/students of mine almost look forward to collapse - they see it as the only way to regain a balance with natural systems. But I challenge them to accept the moral consequences of that. What does it mean, from a moral perspective, to look forward to a drastic decrease in human population size? Disease, war, freezing in the dark? Maybe that doesn't evoke empathy if it occurs in the distant Third World (though in my mind it should), but what if it's your own grandmother or your own child? Certainly, this Earth is overextended. It is our challenge to find an ethical and moral way to bring ourselves back in balance - to move away from a collapse towards a transformation. Either way, I feel we are on the brink of great change.
I was feeling pretty grim about the state of the world when I first woke up this morning. Then I checked my email. 7 unread messages. One was from the Front Porch Forum, a community list-serve for my neighborhood, the Old North End. One of the posts advertised a "Lawn to Garden Workshop" inviting community members to "transform 2 neighborhood lawns into veggie gardens in a hands-on workshop." Cool! I checked the next email, from my friend Elaine. She sent me this video, of UVM students and staff this past Friday commemorating the anniversary of the Waterman take-over and 20 years of student activism and engagement by freezing in place for 5 minutes. It's pretty inspiring.
Are these the first signs of transformation?
Last Sunday, the Youth Group led the service at the Unitarian Church I sometimes attend. The teenagers began the service by reading quotes on change, one of which stuck in my mind: "Change is not necessary. You do not have to survive."
Collapse or transformation? We decide.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Not that I like Malthus - he was classist and some of his ideas were downright loony. He is also at least partially responsible for environmentalists' obsession with population growth. Not that population growth isn't a problem, but it is over-emphasized, placing the burden of environmental problems and solutions disproportionately on the Global South. We must recognize that consumption is also a problem and take responsibility for curbing it.
A couple of years ago, I was seated on a bus next to a right wing, neo-classical economist. Both of us were stunned to see how differently we viewed the world. We were talking about Kerala, India, a socialist state that I had read about in Bill McKibben's book "Hope, Human and Wild." McKibben uses Kerala as an example to illustrate how it might be possible to reduce consumption and still have a high quality of life - Kerala has a low GDP but high rates of literacy, life expectancy and other quality of life indicators.
The economist took a different view. Kerala saddened and puzzled him. How could a place with such high quality of life indicators not develop economically? This exchange bewildered both of us. The economist asked me why it would be necessary to reduce consumption or economic growth - why that would be a good thing. 'Because,' I explained, 'I am worried that our current rates of consumption will outstrip the world's resources.'
'But Malthus [who, about 200 years ago, predicted that population growth would outstrip our ability to grow food] was wrong,' argued the economist. 'We are capable of sustained economic growth.'
I argued that 200 years or so is not enough time to discredit the basic premise of Malthus - that infinite growth is not possible in a finite system.* I had recently read "Collapse" by Jared Diamond. 'The Anasazi lived in the American Southwest for much longer than 200 years,' I explained. 'They are no longer there today.' Easter Island, the Maya, the Greenlanders, the Anasazi, they all probably took the same short-sighted view that we do now. Collapse is possible - 200 years is not long enough time to disprove that.
Diamond defines "collapse" as "a drastic decrease in human population size and/or political/economic/social complexity, over a considerable area, for an extended time." Sometimes I sense that colleagues/students of mine almost look forward to collapse - they see it as the only way to regain a balance with natural systems. But I challenge them to accept the moral consequences of that. What does it mean, from a moral perspective, to look forward to a drastic decrease in human population size? Disease, war, freezing in the dark? Maybe that doesn't evoke empathy if it occurs in the distant Third World (though in my mind it should), but what if it's your own grandmother or your own child? Certainly, this Earth is overextended. It is our challenge to find an ethical and moral way to bring ourselves back in balance - to move away from a collapse towards a transformation. Either way, I feel we are on the brink of great change.
I was feeling pretty grim about the state of the world when I first woke up this morning. Then I checked my email. 7 unread messages. One was from the Front Porch Forum, a community list-serve for my neighborhood, the Old North End. One of the posts advertised a "Lawn to Garden Workshop" inviting community members to "transform 2 neighborhood lawns into veggie gardens in a hands-on workshop." Cool! I checked the next email, from my friend Elaine. She sent me this video, of UVM students and staff this past Friday commemorating the anniversary of the Waterman take-over and 20 years of student activism and engagement by freezing in place for 5 minutes. It's pretty inspiring.
Are these the first signs of transformation?
Last Sunday, the Youth Group led the service at the Unitarian Church I sometimes attend. The teenagers began the service by reading quotes on change, one of which stuck in my mind: "Change is not necessary. You do not have to survive."
Collapse or transformation? We decide.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Not that I like Malthus - he was classist and some of his ideas were downright loony. He is also at least partially responsible for environmentalists' obsession with population growth. Not that population growth isn't a problem, but it is over-emphasized, placing the burden of environmental problems and solutions disproportionately on the Global South. We must recognize that consumption is also a problem and take responsibility for curbing it.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Solutions to sustainability - an organic approach
I get frustrated that the road map is so unclear. Grassroots or top-down? Market or moral? Diplomatic or radical? But then I remember that nature doesn't work like that. We keep trying to turn ourselves, our world, our solutions into a machine. Michael Pollan describes this in "Omnivore's Dilemma" - the reductionist, mechanistic mindset applied to plants and agriculture, as if we could reduce the complexity of an ecosystem, the interrelated roles of microbes, fungi, minerals and plants to a simple formula for growing: N-P-K (at our peril). Where is our formula for solving climate change? There is no blueprint - no road map. We have to grow our solutions the good old fashioned way, with dirt and hard work. And, as any conservation biologist will tell you, there is strength in diversity. Though it's tempting for solutions to compete with each other, there's no way to know which will succeed, so the more the better.
I find this a comfort. I'm graduating with a Masters in a month. My fiance seems to think that must mean I know what I want to do with my life. Ha! But thinking about sustainability solutions as an organic rather than industrial process takes some of the pressure off. I don't have to find the right solution, I just have to find something I'm passionate about, something I enjoy, and go for it. I will cultivate that solution strain, let it grow and evolve - maybe it will help, maybe it won't. There is no way to know. But there is strength in diversity.
And the nice thing about being a human being is that we don't have to wait for our particular solution strain to die to know it won't work; we can learn from our mistakes and improve our strategy before it fails. This is yet another argument for an organic rather than blueprint approach. David Korten (1980) articulates this in "Community Organization and Rural Development: A Learning Process Approach." He notes that organizations capable of learning and changing - those organizations that embrace error and integrate research and evaluation with practice - tend to be more successful than those that design a blueprint at the start of a project and stick with it. So, it doesn't matter if we've got it right from the outset because we can - should - learn and adjust as we go.
Washing dishes the other day, I listened to Senator George Mitchell on the radio. He was reflecting on his successful peace negotiations in Northern Ireland. He noted that throughout the process, the press kept asking him when he would come home, since he'd failed to secure an agreement. And, as he astutely put it, up until the day they signed the peace agreement, he had failed: "we had about 700 days of failure and one day of success." This optimistic interview applies perfectly to climate change. Though we should learn from our mistakes and adjust accordingly, we must also be persistent and maintain hope in the face of seemingly endless failure.
We cannot see the future. We are not omnipotent machinists drawing blueprints for a sustainable world. We must instead mimic nature, drawing on diversity, learning from our mistakes. We must be persistent in the face of perceived failure.
It's a great day for gardening, so let's plant some sustainability solutions and see which bear.
I find this a comfort. I'm graduating with a Masters in a month. My fiance seems to think that must mean I know what I want to do with my life. Ha! But thinking about sustainability solutions as an organic rather than industrial process takes some of the pressure off. I don't have to find the right solution, I just have to find something I'm passionate about, something I enjoy, and go for it. I will cultivate that solution strain, let it grow and evolve - maybe it will help, maybe it won't. There is no way to know. But there is strength in diversity.
And the nice thing about being a human being is that we don't have to wait for our particular solution strain to die to know it won't work; we can learn from our mistakes and improve our strategy before it fails. This is yet another argument for an organic rather than blueprint approach. David Korten (1980) articulates this in "Community Organization and Rural Development: A Learning Process Approach." He notes that organizations capable of learning and changing - those organizations that embrace error and integrate research and evaluation with practice - tend to be more successful than those that design a blueprint at the start of a project and stick with it. So, it doesn't matter if we've got it right from the outset because we can - should - learn and adjust as we go.
Washing dishes the other day, I listened to Senator George Mitchell on the radio. He was reflecting on his successful peace negotiations in Northern Ireland. He noted that throughout the process, the press kept asking him when he would come home, since he'd failed to secure an agreement. And, as he astutely put it, up until the day they signed the peace agreement, he had failed: "we had about 700 days of failure and one day of success." This optimistic interview applies perfectly to climate change. Though we should learn from our mistakes and adjust accordingly, we must also be persistent and maintain hope in the face of seemingly endless failure.
We cannot see the future. We are not omnipotent machinists drawing blueprints for a sustainable world. We must instead mimic nature, drawing on diversity, learning from our mistakes. We must be persistent in the face of perceived failure.
It's a great day for gardening, so let's plant some sustainability solutions and see which bear.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Spring & Hope!
It's hard not to feel hopeful when it's finally so incredibly, lusciously, scintillatingly beautiful outside. And warm - sigh (52 degrees :)) Ahhh, spring! It makes me giddy just to wake up in the morning. It makes me giddy to hear the cardinal with its saucy chirp, to breathe in deep the smell of thawing earth, to feel the sunlight - glorious, warm sunlight. What a Sunday!
We started the morning making a usual Sunday breakfast feast - sausage and pancakes - while listening to NPR. In honor of her 80th birthday, Lynn Neary interviewed Maya Angelou:
Neary: "What does it mean to you that, in your own lifetime, you're seeing this election where both a woman and a Black man have a real shot at the White House."
Angelou: "It's so exciting! And you know, I had someone ask me, 'but things haven't changed, have they?' Please! Are you kidding? Things have changed. We have to admit that we've come a long way, so that young people would not be encouraged to say, 'you mean to say, with the lives and deaths of Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X, and the Kennedys and Mahatma Gandi, you mean to tell me things are no better? Well then what's the point of me trying?' Young people must be told, yes, things are better. Not nearly as good as they will be when you put your shoulder to the wheel."
Hearing this statement of hope felt just the same as walking outside after breakfast, feeling the sunshine, the warmth - a new lightness spreading through me. Yes, things are getting better. We have a lot of work to do, but we must also celebrate the accomplishments, celebrate spring.
We played outside all day today - our first day of the season climbing on real rock. I still feel the sun on my face and the delightful weariness from a day in wind and sunlight. I still feel hope burgeoning within me: "yes, things are better. Not nearly as good as they will be when [we put our] shoulders to the wheel." But things are better.
We started the morning making a usual Sunday breakfast feast - sausage and pancakes - while listening to NPR. In honor of her 80th birthday, Lynn Neary interviewed Maya Angelou:
Neary: "What does it mean to you that, in your own lifetime, you're seeing this election where both a woman and a Black man have a real shot at the White House."
Angelou: "It's so exciting! And you know, I had someone ask me, 'but things haven't changed, have they?' Please! Are you kidding? Things have changed. We have to admit that we've come a long way, so that young people would not be encouraged to say, 'you mean to say, with the lives and deaths of Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X, and the Kennedys and Mahatma Gandi, you mean to tell me things are no better? Well then what's the point of me trying?' Young people must be told, yes, things are better. Not nearly as good as they will be when you put your shoulder to the wheel."
Hearing this statement of hope felt just the same as walking outside after breakfast, feeling the sunshine, the warmth - a new lightness spreading through me. Yes, things are getting better. We have a lot of work to do, but we must also celebrate the accomplishments, celebrate spring.
We played outside all day today - our first day of the season climbing on real rock. I still feel the sun on my face and the delightful weariness from a day in wind and sunlight. I still feel hope burgeoning within me: "yes, things are better. Not nearly as good as they will be when [we put our] shoulders to the wheel." But things are better.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Earth Hour Rocks!
Fortunately, Google (my second brain) reminded me that Earth Hour was from 8-9 last Saturday. Otherwise, I would have missed out on my new favorite climate action - turning the lights out. Yeah, I know I'm exposing my privileged first world life when I say that I really enjoyed an evening by candle light, but there's no sense pretending... It's a luxury to be able to turn the lights on. It's also a luxury to be able to turn them out.
Our Earth Hour was even better for spending the evening at my friend Rachel's house. Rachel used to work as a chef and whipped up a five-star meal complete with a chocolate dessert to die for, ever so much better eaten by candle light. We sat around talking, laughing, sharing stories. Good old-fashioned entertainment. Mike and I liked it so much we did it again Monday night. It's a good way to reconnect - to take away the distractions and foster conversation. We hope to celebrate Earth Hour on a regular basis.
To use the climate policy jargon, Earth Hour has great co-benefits. It's great for building social capital - getting us to turn off the TV and talk to each other. It's a great way to reduce stress - nothing seems quite as urgent by candle light. It's a nice way to take a moment to reconnect - with ourselves and with each other.
Even if you missed the global event last Saturday, I suggest giving Earth Hour a try...
Our Earth Hour was even better for spending the evening at my friend Rachel's house. Rachel used to work as a chef and whipped up a five-star meal complete with a chocolate dessert to die for, ever so much better eaten by candle light. We sat around talking, laughing, sharing stories. Good old-fashioned entertainment. Mike and I liked it so much we did it again Monday night. It's a good way to reconnect - to take away the distractions and foster conversation. We hope to celebrate Earth Hour on a regular basis.
To use the climate policy jargon, Earth Hour has great co-benefits. It's great for building social capital - getting us to turn off the TV and talk to each other. It's a great way to reduce stress - nothing seems quite as urgent by candle light. It's a nice way to take a moment to reconnect - with ourselves and with each other.
Even if you missed the global event last Saturday, I suggest giving Earth Hour a try...
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