The Rogue Scholar

Earth Day 2011: NYPL Reading List

I think the title of this post says all that need be said on the subject: NYPL takes its reading lists quite seriously. This is a good one.

There are some good selections there, too: Rachel Carson's Silent Spring is an old favorite now in its billionth printing, Power Trip: The Story of America's Love Affair With Energy by Amanda Little, and Alternative Energy by Brian Black are all excellent resources to look through as you consider how you can help convince Mother nature not to wipe out Homo sapiens in the next century or so.*

Anyway, the list is here and the day is young. Start reading!

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*Don't kid yourself--she's come perilously close to doing so a number of times over the past few million years. The only reason we've been able to settle down and build our current civilization is a weirdly stable climate which allowed agriculture to become a reliable means of food production for large populations that began something like 20,000 years ago. That climate is now ending. By any estimation we are living 0n borrowed time.

Next Stop: Mars! (Or Not)

40 years ago we landed humans on the Moon.  It was A Very Big Deal.  It really happened.  That said, let us all watch a clip of Buzz Aldrin punching a conspiracy theorist in the face.  Personally, I could watch that clip all day, but I think once is enough to make the point.

 I was a little over two years old in 1969 and don't remember a thing about the big event. My parents did, and so did their parents friends and neighbors and coworkers, however. To some extent it was a generational thing. So, first, some review: in 1957, the U.S.S.R. launched a satellite called Sputnik 1 into low orbit and for the first time, anybody on Earth could adjust their short-wave radio to a particular frequency and listen to the signal from this artifact that the future Evil Empire had sent into the sky. The engineers and engineering students understood that nothing would be the same again. The Cold War was in full swing, both superpowers were building fleets of heavy bombers and bombs to drop from them, and the nation that could build a missile big enough to push a satellite into orbit could just as easily build one big enough to carry a nuclear bomb across the North Pole.  Such a nation would then be the Unquestioned Supreme Power in the Universe, or so went the thinking at the Pentagon and Kremlin.

Faced with this obvious shortcoming, Americans behaved predictably: we got scared. Yes, we had enough B-52s and atomic bombs to annihilate all of Eastern Europe, but the Russians had demonstrated that had something better. We needed one, too.  Preferably a whole fleet of them. So over the next half-decade the U.S. government poured money into a ballistic missile program of our own. Finally, JFK put the issue on center stage when he declared in 1961 that he would make it a goal of the United States to put a man on the Moon "by the end of [the] decade." And we did.

The thing to remember is that the Apollo program didn't just happen because the American president wanted it to happen, even one as renowned as John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The work that led to it was a long string of failures, partial failures and some pretty darned cool successes as engineers in the U.S. and Soviet Union perfected their understanding of ballistic science, life support systems, microgravity and acceleration, and multi-stage thrust systems. It's one thing to comprehend the trigonometry that enables you to plot where a given projectile, traveling at an assumed speed, in a particular direction for a specific amount of time, will land. Building a rocket big  enough to transport three human beings a quarter million miles of harsh vacuum and return them safely to Earth is something else. But marrying these two accomplishments into the Apollo program is several orders of magnitude more difficult. There are relatively few among us who truly grasp the difficulties and labor involved in making that day happen. There's a good reason that Buzz decked the conspiracy wacko.

But in today's news environment, the Moon is considered boring. Now, we're told, the next stop on the journey is a manned mission to Mars at some point in, say, the next 20 years.  That's fine. Dandy, even.  But what do we do in the meantime? Our existing fleet of space shuttles is A) over 20 years old and B) due to retire in a few years. The Air Force no longer builds the heavy Atlas-type boosters that were the mainstay of NASA's heavy lift fleet 30 years ago in quantity (although if the Atlas V proves anything it's that somebody can still build them well.)  And now they want us to believe that sending astronauts 35 million miles away is the answer to maintaining a viable human presence in space? I don't agree. A better choice is going back to the Moon.

I can think of a few reasons for this. The Moon is A) known territory, having been explored thoroughly by us and the Soviets back when we had the money and drive to do it, B) only a quarter million miles away, and C) getting there is something we've done before. We need to go back and dig in. There are plenty of ways to do this, some of which are insane and others pure genius. It can be done. And it makes sense to work the kinks out of any space colonization program we adopt closer to home than not.

That said, it remains the case that Mars is by any reckoning A Very Big Deal.  The thought of going there captures the imagination of astronauts, politicians, science geeks (including me) and Joe and Jane Average in a way that few projects do.  But putting some very big (and valid) parts of that deal--the price tag, the timing, the political will, for starters--off to the side a moment, there is one concern that looms large in my mind about this particular proposal: if something goes horribly wrong, we lose the entire investment. It's 35 million miles from here to there one-way and let's face it, things go wrong.  Sometimes they can be fixed (or, such as in the case of Apollo 13, not fixed but at least navigated through and endured). But, as in the case with Space Shuttle Challenger in 1986 and more recently, the Columbia in 2003, when something goes wrong, it often all goes wrong at once and the result is destruction and death.

I totally buy the argument that says that when you explore new frontiers, you need to pay the piper, and in the case of our collective space programs, that means the occasional blood sacrifice.  I agree, that much is the nature of the game. Only a fool or a Pollyanna would argue with it.  But let's also admit that planning a trip to Mars is a long-term goal (ten years? twenty?), so while we plan for Mars, why not get in as much practice as possible in the meantime? Why not go back to the Moon and this time stay there?

The bottom line is that a manned mission to Mars would be impressive as hell if it ever happens but not in the same way the Apollo missions were back in the seventies. Then, the Cold War was still on and the space shuttle--a remarkably successful program for all the problems--hadn't even been built yet. The entire industrial world relies on satellite communications and a dozen countries have ballistic technology sufficient to launch them into stable orbits now. But a working Moon base that gives us the reason and opportunity to develop and refine the infrastructure to get our carbon-based monkey asses off this pale blue dot and into the inner solar system for the benefit of future generations would be infinitely more worthwhile.

If it ever happens.

Peak Oil & Libraries 4.0: Food, Shelter, Transport, Security

The Peak Oil Blues have returned (again).  As I write this, President Obama (I will never get tired of writing that) is on his way to Denver to sign his new stimulus bill.  Some laud the new law as being the right idea and others despise it for a wide variety of reasons.  In my supremely unedumacated opinion, it's a nice political stunt, but the bill itself contains too few of the real investments that the country needs (e.g., where is the national high-speed rail network, guys?) and too much of the financial legerdemain that keeps bankers and accountants happy but robs depositors of their deposits, to be of much value.  Also, given a $13 trillion economy, $790 billion--about 6%--really doesn't go very far.  Even if we spent it on stuff that matters, which we didn't, it's pocket change.  (Imagine you have $100 for the week. You budget $25 for rent, $25 for groceries, $25 for the car payment, and $25 is saved.  Uncle Sam gives you $6. Now, yes you could take that extra cash and buy a few more groceries, pay down your car a bit more quickly, over-pay your rent a bit or save it, but compared to the grand scheme of your weekly spending, it just ain't that big a deal.)

On the other hand, the new CEO of America, Inc. needs to do something--which is why he was elected, after all, by an increasingly desperate electorate.  And the new law will indeed do something.  Just what, I don't know.  Maybe nothing.  Maybe create 3.2 million jobs.  Maybe something totally different.  We'll just have to wait and see what happens. Something that surely will take place is that $790 billion is added to the national debt which will have to be paid off at some point by somebody (if you're curious as to who that somebody will be, look in the mirror, then imagine your kids and grand-kids and their kids and grand-kids all looking back at you.  Scowling actually, because they're going to be pissed off.)

In addition, the Dow is now falling through the 7,500 mark.  About 6,500 is where it was before the dot-com rise-and-bust in the mid 1990s, and that's around where it should be now, seeing as how all the financial additives are being siphoned out of the economy.  (Granted, the two things have very little to do with each other but that's the subject of better writing than my own, much of which can be found along the Money & Economics links in the left sidebar.)  That's not to say it will go to 6,500 then go back up, nor to say it won't keep going down to 5,000, 3,000, or straight to zero.  It's not likely to go down that far but, well, things happen.

At the moment life maintains its apparent cohesion the way a water strider glides (hops?) across the surface of a pond.  The bug can do this because of how it's built and because it only weighs a few micrograms.  If that tiny insect were several orders of magnitude larger, it would go straight to the bottom.  It's just not in the nature of insects that the big fat ones get to walk on water like the tiny ones do.  Similarly, life appears to go on the way it's supposed to.  My car starts when I turn the key in the ignition.  There's food on the shelves of the local supermarket.  My bank pays out a check I wrote last Thursday.  These things happen not because there's any natural law that says they need happen, but they're the result of very specific systems having been put in place decades ago.  But we only see the surface features so it's all we generally think about.  For the moment, things continue to work and that's a good thing.

I ordered a new laptop back in January, one of the new MacBook Pros, which, if I'm lucky, will ship next week and arrive about a week later.  The funny thing is that it took three rounds of phone calls to my bank and two credit card companies (and to Apple of course) to find a way to pay for the silly thing.  I have the cash in the bank for it, but getting that cash to Apple was the challenge.  I think everything is done, but we'll see.  As I just wrote, things continue to work, but . . . we'll see what happens.

I have resigned myself to knowing that this will be the last computer I own. There will be no other after this one.  First because there's nothing I'll be doing (other than some gaming on the weekends) that I'll need a computer for that can't be done with paper and pen. My writing, financial bookkeeping and such can be done in blank journals and on ledger paper (or my checkbook) and as long as I remember to print the important stuff out and store it properly, there is no reason the record-keeping methods used in the 19th century should fail me now. With a bit of luck I expect to be using the new machine until it dies or falls apart. Much like I expect to do with my car, a 2000 Nissan Sentra that gets relatively little wear and tear (65,000 miles as I type this over 8 years).  This is something to get used to: trading up and handing the older stuff to those in greater need than yourself.  The laptop I'm typing this on is being sold to a friend who's upgrading her own hemispherical iMac (remember those?) from five years ago.  One day the parts will cease being made, and that will then be that. 

I've got about six months of prescription asthma meds tucked away in case I need them; I'm less sure how to get a reserve supply of Zoloft (for other members of the family) or the very specific state-controlled meds my nephew uses, but that's something I'm working on.

There's enough cash in a safe deposit box to last awhile, until then, we're still employed and trying to keep expenses down.  And I've got about a month of food stored in my kitchen which I believe I can make last twice as long if nobody insists on going back for seconds (or eating a ton of rice).

In his latest blog entry Dimity Orlov describes four areas to concentrate on in pursuit of the post-collapse lifestyle: food, shelter, transport, and security.  All else, he says, is besides the point.  (He may be right, we'll see.)  Food I have at least in the short term; transport depends on my car, which has been little used and well maintained--gas is the real problem, but it gets better gas mileage than 50% of the cars on the road, so perhaps that's not too bad.  Shelter is interesting--my wife and I have discussed it, and if things got really bad, we're able to entertain the thought of moving into my mom's house.  (Actually picking up and doing it is another story.)  Security is dependant on how well I can conceal a long knife (nicely, it seems)  or a sword (not that well) on my body.  I practice with a .22 once a week and I have a carved longbow I badly need to learn to use.  But I live in NYC which is the gun control capital of the country, so one hopes I'll have some time to figure out a few more ways to gut a man before things actually stop working.

But that's just concerning me and the Mrs. When I think about my brother and sister-in-law, niece and nephew, friends, godchildren, in-laws, and so on, things get much murkier and thicker.  Very few of them listen to me when I tell them that this show known as Early 21st Century Industrial Society will soon be going on the road.  Part of me is looking forward to it; it will be such a relief not to have to go "work" every day.  Unfortunately, being an asthmatic makes me a bit of a liability in the Darwinian sense to those around me so I'm building up my post-technology library as well.  I'd be nice to be known as they guy who had all the Books We Need.

I apologize for this rant, I usually try to be more coherent.  But this is not a subject that engenders a lot of coherence (unless you're Sharon Astyk, who has never been anything else.)  I refuse to panic or give in to despair but I haven't really believed in The System for a long, long time, and I suspect that's helped me keep going.  In the meantime, I think about this stuff.  Quite a lot.

We shall see.