Transitions take time

The appearance of the first Model T didn’t immediately kill the horse and buggy.

The light bulb didn’t render candles obsolete overnight.

Technological transitions are not step functions. There is no sudden change, no instantaneous jump to a new, higher value of technology. Instead there is a gradual transition that eventually results in a full switch from the previous technology to the next. The slope is not smooth either – there are plenty of bumps along the way.

Sometimes that full switch takes years. Even decades.

We are in a period of significant transition across all of our technologies.

Don’t write off the newcomers. Don’t force them either.

They will find their own way in time. Be patient.

Earth First

I start my day in the shower using soap from the United States, eventually drying myself off with a towel from Turkey or Pakistan, and then I shave using shaving cream from Canada.

I dress myself with clothes from Vietnam, Malaysia, or Bangladesh (all of which were washed in a washer and dryer from the United States), before heading to work in my vehicle made in Japan.

Before departing I grab my headphones and cell phone that were made in Vietnam, both of which were charging through an electrical outlet made in China that is connected to Romex wiring in my walls made in the United States. That wiring attaches to an electrical panel from either the United States, Mexico, or China.

I bring a lunch to work each day. In my kitchen I find limes and asparagus from Mexico, kiwi from Italy, chia seeds from Paraguay, Ramen from China, potatoes from Canada, quinoa from Peru, and bananas from Guatemala, all of which are stored in appliances and cabinets from the United States.

I use my cutting knives from India to prepare my meals, which I cook on cookware from the United States when I’m using the stovetop, or on a baking sheet from China (with a silicon baking sheet from France) in the oven. If I’m packing for work I’ll store my food in Tupperware from the United States that goes into a lunch bag made in Vietnam, but if I’m eating at home I’ll use plates from Indonesia and bowls from China.

Hey, look, I also found a bottle of water from Fiji hiding in the back of the pantry (more on the absurdity of this particular product in a future post).

What else can we find?

My workshop has drills from Japan, nails from India, nail guns from the United States, and a chainsaw from Germany.

I write draft posts on a legal pad made in India (or in a notebook from the Philippines), with a pen from Tunisia, before typing those words on a keyboard made in China connected to a computer made in Vietnam. I typically store my computer, legal pad, notebook, and pens in one of a few bags I own that were made in the Philippines.

For those who lost track, that is 21 unique countries spanning 6 continents.

I can connect with someone across the planet in less time than it takes me to walk next door to say hello to my neighbor.

The oxygen that my lungs are absorbing in this very moment – molecules are physical things, after all – came from air that ignores the arbitrary lines we draw on our fancy maps. It came from somewhere on this planet, but that’s slightly harder to pinpoint.

We are one world.

Earth must come first.

The transition will be rough – but inevitable.

Get on board.

We don’t deserve fusion

Unlimited energy is appealing in theory – but we’re laughably irresponsible with the finite energy we have now.

Imagine how wasteful we’d be with [virtually] no limits.

Think about how you are with a new tube of toothpaste, or a new shampoo bottle. How about at the buffet?

It isn’t until we reach the last drop that we start behaving in the conservative ways we should have been from start.

The earth no longer provides for us…

…at least not willingly.

Let us imagine a world where you can step outside your door and grab something nourishing to eat, at no cost to you, directly from nature. As an experiment, venture outdoors and see what you can find.

Chances are, you won’t find anything.

A home garden doesn’t count in this scenario. Gardens require considerable human input to generate food. We must coax the nutrients from the earth to sustain ourselves, because the earth is stubborn when it comes to growing what humans eat. I’m challenging you to find an unprocessed food source that occurs naturally in the wild that we can simply eat. I’m willing to bet that – excluding gardens and farms – you’d walk miles and still be unable to find a source that can sustain you. Hunters may have better luck, but what about the rest of us?

We’ve been relying on agriculture to sustain us for thousands and thousands of years, so I’m not necessarily surprised by the results of this experiment. What is concerning, however, is that over the course of those thousands of years, we’ve clearly been forgotten by the earth. We decided our way was better, and she has shifted her attention elsewhere to provide for other species.

If there were ever a long-term warning sign – relatively speaking – that our time has come, that our reign as apex species is over, this is it. The fact that this earth no longer naturally provides – in abundance – that which we need to sustain ourselves.

The Beauty of Repurposing

When was the last time you used something for a purpose other than which it was originally intended? In a world where the internet delivers all our needs in 1-2 days, we’ve societally decided that repurposing is no longer necessary. Type – or in some cases merely speak – your requirements into the search bar, and you can find the exact product you require. Click a button and the item appears on your doorstep shortly thereafter.

While the “work smarter, not harder” adage certainly applies here in terms of minimizing effort to solve a problem, we’re denying our minds the opportunity to engage in creative thought. We’re solving the problem in the simplest means possible while disengaging our brains from the process. We’ve reduced what once was an exercise in creative thinking down to a simple question of whether or not we can afford an assortment of options that the internet provides us.

Ignite the creative energy in your mind and creatively solve a problem with something you already have around you.

Grow more. Fence less.

As another growing season comes to a close, I lament the loss of the vegetable plants consumed by the animals with whom I share a yard. Carrots, kale, spinach, and lettuce, all wiped out in a matter of days early on in the season, unable to regenerate because animals typically consume the entire plant.

Consequently, I’ve identified a new strategy for next year: grow more.

I reject the notion that I must create secure, impenetrable garden beds for the food I eat while leaving the majority of my open space meticulously manicured (and useless).

Animals are hungry, just like us, and given the lack of groundhog grocery stores in the immediate area, I can take the hit, devote a larger percentage of my yard to growing more, and give back to my roommates.

Nature can thrive “over there”

Our greatest challenge as a society is to convince ourselves that undeveloped land provides more value when left alone.

In pursuit of perpetual growth we continue to reshape the natural world, operating under the errant assumption that undisturbed nature can simply exist “over there.” What we fail to realize is that people “over there” are behaving similarly.

The grass may be greener…but does that make it better?

The answer to this question depends on your perspective.

Driving through a neighborhood today, I came across two adjacent lawns. The first was a pristine, verdant lawn that was worthy of a magazine cover. The second lawn was left to grow naturally.

The former may be appealing to the human senses (not mine), but the latter had the birds. So many birds, in fact, that the lawn appeared black at first glance. What was even more intriguing was the dividing line between the two lawns, drawn not by a fence, but by the abrupt end to the birds at the edge of the natural lawn.

They wouldn’t venture into the green grass. There is nothing for them there.

Plant a seed. Watch it grow.

A few years I started a vegetable garden. I started with a single small pot first – a trial run since I wasn’t quite convinced I could keep plants alive. I passed that test, and this past growing season was quite rewarding. You should try it sometime. Here’s why:

  1. It’s therapeutic.
  2. The growing process is astonishing. Put a few seeds into fertile soil. Water. Harvest. Voila. Nutritious food arises from the ground, growing from seeds the size of a nail head. Great things sprouting from what seems like nothing.
  3. Nothing compares to fresh vegetables. Not store bought fresh – right off the plant fresh.

Plant a seed and watch it grow. You’ll grow as well.