Sunday, August 30, 2009

Fractal granola disarray

I mentioned something a few weeks ago which I’d like to explore more fully. I said that it’s impossible to solve ecological problems on an individual basis because they are fundamentally macroscopic or collective. I say this for two reasons: first, an individual doesn’t have access to the information needed to act wisely, and second, an individual has no way to convince or coerce enough others to act wisely.

I don’t deny that an individual can contribute to a sustainable society. Any one of us could live off-the-grid, travel only by foot or bicycle, eat local organic food, etc. However, there is no way for even a well-informed individual to know which action is most beneficial and whether their lifestyle is sufficient, insufficient, or excessive. He or she would likely spend a lot of energy on negligible causes and neglect important but non-obvious actions.

The clearest illustration of this is climate change, where damage depends mainly on the rate of fossil fuel use. At first glance, the course of action of a concerned individual is obvious, but given the complexity and ambiguity of the modern world, an “informed decision” quickly becomes an impossible task. We all know that vehicles are a major culprit, so let’s suppose our brave citizen forgoes a car. Yet no-one wants to spend their life within a 5 km radius of home. Should one rent a car once a month to get out of the city? visit The Big City by train? fly to a sun-soaked beach every few years? hitchhike or rideshare across the country? There is no practical way to judge what is the most ecological choice, or even whether the choice is meaningful at all, so instead we rely on hearsay and half-remembered factoids.

This complexity increases exponentially when you start to consider greenhouse gas emissions “embedded” in our food, household goods, and built environment. Who among us knows how much fuel was burned to bring us our cute new shoes, our latest cell phone, a show at our favorite movie theatre? Is it better to buy fresh apples from New Zealand or local ones which have been refrigerated for 6 months? Electricity use is a significant but invisible pollutant—should I piss off my roommates by unplugging the TV and sound system when they’re not in use? My office has an inefficient and overpowered air conditioner—if I can convince them to turn it off more often, how much impact would that have? We greens drive ourselves crazy trying to “live green.” A friend of mine was sorely malnourished one year trying to keep to a 100-mile diet. I myself have lived like a monk for several years, sometimes to the detriment of my health and my happiness, yet climate change continues apace; therefore my actions have been inadequate. It’s impossible to say whether another 5 years of monasticism, by myself or with 100 000 other individuals, would be enough to reverse the damage our society is causing. We can measure total pollution levels, but we just don’t have enough information to determine our individual pollution.


My first point dealt with those who are concerned and capable enough to change their destructive behaviour (no easy task in an industrial society like ours). Many others, however, are too indifferent or indecisive to change their ways. Because of the nature of, well, nature, the pollution of these inertial individuals becomes more significant the less the rest of us pollute. Even if most of the guests at a party drink moderately, it only takes a few alcoholics to empty daddy’s liquor cabinet. The health and healthfulness of fish in a given river depends on the local pollution levels, ie the total pollution emitted in the river’s watershed. Even if 99% of individuals have zero impact, there is still catastrophe if fish lice from a poorly operated salmon farm. Wisdom slowly spreads through social channels, and to a lesser extent through the Internet and the media, but this takes years and it is a simple matter for major polluters to ignore those they disagree with. There must be a way to curb this irresponsible behaviour, either through mass persuasion or coercion, and a legion of well-intentioned but unorganized individuals cannot do so. Approaching ecological problems from an individual perspective is overwhelming and frustrating.


This is the line of thinking that led me to join the Green Party 3 years ago. A collective approach solves both problems I described above. First, through the miracle of statistics, the forest of patchy information disappears at a national or international level. We know with reasonable accuracy where our greenhouse gases come from, and with some study we can determine the best way to reduce them. Second, a government can pass laws which modify everyone’s behaviour, not simply those who are supporters. A pollution tax, for instance, would make certain actions much more expensive, which would provide an incentive to pollute less.

I’m tired of environmentalists acting like a team of 6-year-old soccer players, all chasing the ball with no plan. There are serious problems with our political system and with the Green Party itself, but as far as I’m concerned it is the only avenue that can solve the crises we face.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

These words will never touch the ground


I learned a useful word a few years ago: ephemera. It’s an art collector’s word, and it refers to manmade objects that were meant to be used a few times then discarded (streetcar tickets, movie posters, cigarette lighters…). It doesn’t include disposables which are considered memorable like stamps, clothing, or paper money. In recent decades, there has been a trend among collectors and historians to seek out and preserve this ephemera to give a candid glimpse at life in days gone by, before these inherently impermanent objects disappear.

I started to wonder what traces my own generation will inadvertently leave behind. In this “information age,” we all broadcast personal details of our lives (whether we like it or not) via e-mail, Facebook, cookies, blogs, forums, online shopping, e-petitions and membership forms, phishing, etc. etc. There is a mind-boggling reservoir of mundane information floating around. I’m careful to keep my privacy, but I just googled my name and got 140 different hits. Will any of this still exist 50 years from now? Will we ever see a museum exhibit “Amazon.com wish lists 2005-2010”?

Unlike traditional ephemera, electronic media requires careful maintenance and high energy and quickly becomes obsolete or unfashionable. With the disruptions of climate change and the decline of global energy supplies, there is no guarantee that this trillion gigabytes of information will continue to exist. Perhaps future historians will be left to comb through electronic flotsam like the Google search queries of August 2011, all MySpace profiles that start with “M”, the contents of individual computers, or all US e-mails with the word “bomb” in them.

Ironically, my generation will also bequeath a heavy legacy to the future—our ingeniously indestructible plastics, refrigerants, artificial sweeteners, etc., the steel and concrete bones of our cities, and the negative inheritance of an impoverished planet. Unlike the million whispers that make up our electronic personae, this legacy is more like a rolling thunder, a monolithic and overpowering sound that erases all beauty and individuality. Sometimes I worry that the beautiful things my generation creates will vanish with the end of the electronic age, leaving future generations to curse us for our selfishness and lack of aesthetics.