Showing posts with label Survival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Survival. Show all posts

Friday, December 4, 2009

Infrastructure

We hear the word "infrastructure" fairly frequently these days, often in combination with the word "crumbling".  It's a disturbing trend, so today I'd like to explore a little about the meaning of the term and some of its implications within society.


The prefix, "infra" means "below" or "beneath". My old dictionary from the 1970's also includes "inferior to" in the definition. We'll come back to that later. In its original sense, infrastructure refers to "an underlying base or supporting structure" – or – "the basic facilities, equipment, services and installations needed for the growth and functioning of a country, community or organization" (American Heritage Dictionary, New College Edition, 1976). The latter sense is heard most often in the media when referring to roads, railways, water and sewage systems and the newer network of cables, fiber-optics and wireless nodes that form the basis for modern communications.

The ancient Romans had a good grasp of the value of infrastructure. Several of the roads and aqueducts they built thousands of years ago survive to this day.  Every society since has put the gold of its wealthy and the toil of its poor into building and maintaining infrastructure.  At various times and under various stimuli, infrastructure-building will enjoy a heyday and great (or not-so-great) works will be constructed.  Sometimes it's to glorify a ruler or an ideal, sometimes to bulwark against a threat, other times, it serves to bolster a sagging economy.  In this country, we've seen more of the latter two cases than the former, though I think 'glorification' has probably produced more of the world's durable and aesthetically pleasing structures than has necessity.

Once the infrastructure has been created, there must be the will and the means to maintain it in working order, not just for a while but, effectively, forever.  This is much harder to do than to drum up the initiative create it in the fist place.  It seems to be part of human nature to not wish to think about the stuff that goes on below the surface — the water mains, the sewers, the cables, etc.  But rust and rot never take vacations so somebody has to be thinking about, and doing something about the hidden stuff day in and day out ad infinitum.  If at some point, however, we elect a 'fiscal lion' who hacks the budget of the maintenance department, or if hard economic times force the same decision, the inexorable progress of decay can go on unobserved for years.  The next thing you know, water mains are breaking and gas lines are exploding and the media begin talking about "crumbling infrastructure".  Again.

The foregoing is an example of great beginnings that stumble down to bad endings.  This is not the only scenario.  What happens if you begin by not thinking about infrastructure?

A Case Study

Mid-20th Century Baltimore, MD: a medium-sized East Coast city boasting close to a million residents.  Not a fancy place like New York or Boston but one possessing a great deal of local charm and a pretty good baseball team.  In 1968, everything changed.  When the news of Martin Luther King's assassination broke, people took their outrage and disappointment into the streets.  There were ten wrenching days of rioting and the city was locked down under martial law.  Fearing that the genie of racial violence was forever out of the bottle, both black and white citizens began streaming out of the city to the surrounding suburbs.  As housing stock was used up, pressure grew to expand the suburbs with new development and Baltimore's "urban sprawl" kicked into high gear.

Today, Baltimore's suburbs, coupled with those of neighboring Washington, D.C., have grown to an alarming extent (Baltimore-Washington Land-Use History).  Air pollution from cars has blossomed due to the greater commuting distances.  Run-off from parking lots and lawn herbicides has poisoned suburban streams.  Because the developers buy up farm land and forest tracts, we have seen significant losses of both arable land and wild habitat.  All of this is due to widespread disregard of all considerations except economic growth.  One consideration ignored is that of the infrastructure needed to support the burgeoning population.  Schools, roads, water and sewer systems have become over-burdened and require expensive retro-fitting to accommodate the new reality.  To quote the old bromide: they did not plan to fail, they failed to plan.

We are moved to ask, why is infrastructure given such short shrift?   A clue may lie in the meanings of "infra" mentioned above.  If infrastructure is perceived to be "beneath" our notice or "inferior to" other considerations, guess where the dollars and planning time are not going to go?  If you wish to stretch the point a bit: that which occurs beneath is dark and scary.  Best not to think about it.  Whatever the source of the short-sightedness, there seems to be little impetus to change matters.  In 1997 Maryland's then-governor Paris Glendenning championed a statute in state law that he dubbed the "Smart Growth Initiative".  It is supposed to mandate a more holistic approach to community development, specifically with respect to the infrastructure, but recent studies have shown that since its passage, the statute has been largely circumvented or ignored (Study Calls MD Smart Growth a Flop).

All the Myriad Pieces

There are other infrastructures besides the ones I've mentioned.  For example, there is the coastal warning infrastructure.  The earliest components of this system were lighthouses, recorded as far back as 660 B.C.E. on the coast of Egypt.  Foghorns and bells have also been around for ages.  These days, nearly every vessel carries a GPS device that does a much better job of letting the operator know when they are straying too close to the shoals.  Some folks have advocated for doing away with the old system of lights and horns since it's now hopelessly outclassed by technology.  But this technology depends on a system of satellites in orbit around the Earth, and each satellite costs millions of dollars to build and launch.  And let us not forget the vast amount of research, experimentation, manufacturing capability, etc. that had to precede the launch of even the first of these satellites.  In addition, GPS receivers are the end-product of sophisticated manufacturing techniques, each phase of which has its own infrastructure, right down to the batteries that power it.  If you consider what it would mean if there was a breakdown anywhere in this complex web, I'll bet you'd be just as happy to hear the mournful bray of a horn the next time you're rounding the Cape in a blind fog.

The key word is "web".  Every system we depend on is tied together in a vast interconnecting web-work of technology, of materials and parts, of human knowledge and perhaps most importantly, human cooperation.  Consider this last in terms of what can happen when a major industry or service is shut down during a strike.  Nearly everything in our lives is supported by largely unseen networks of people and machines.  Some of these are robust and resilient, others are tenuous and fragile.  It's good exercise to think about all of the systems that go into the vital functions of your life and conjecture what you'd do if those systems collapsed.  How does the food get to your supermarket and how will you eat if it doesn't?  When the electricity fails to come out of the little holes in your wall, what then?

What To Do When the World Ends

There is an apocalyptic vision that our entertainment media have been promoting for some decades.  It states: "something big will happen to kill off lots of people and those of us who are left will have to fend for ourselves".  The underlying idea is embedded in several religions and has such force that even people who don't subscribe to those religions strongly suspect that there's something disastrous lurking in our near future.  Over the course of my life, there have been a few times when this future seemed closer than others — the Cuban Missile Crisis and September 11th, for two — but more often, the likely nature of our doom is that the world won't end and we'll still have to pay the mortgage next month.  That said, contemplation of world-ending events is useful because it forces us to think more clearly about infrastructures.

Except in the case of a total annihilation of the human race, after "the end of the world", there will be people left.  Maybe even lots of them.  The shattering part of it for the survivors will be the sudden loss of many of the infrastructures that we take for granted — food, potable water, emergency medical services, etc.  Some people, of course, don't take these things for granted and have plans to cover their own and their family's survival in the case of disasters up to and including the end-of-the-world type.  They envision that they can become little islands of 'survivability', if you will, until things can be set back in order again.  Or, perhaps, forever, depending on how far-sighted they are (you can read more of my thoughts on this subject in: Resources).  To bring this into context: They envision surviving in the absence of infrastructure.

Perhaps it's a part of the American psyche to desire complete independence.  We're are fueled by images of rugged individualists — iconic characters portrayed by John Wayne or Clint Eastwood — and told that we can attain our dreams if we work hard and "think outside the box".  On the other hand, of course, we're constantly receiving signals that it's best to conform or face social ostracism, but that's a topic for another day.  In a post-apocalyptic world, that rugged individualism will probably get you through the first days or weeks and maybe even months, but sooner or later, it will be necessary to link up with other people and start cooperating with them.  You will need to start rebuilding your infrastructures.  These will doubtless be quite different from the accustomed systems but if they're well crafted, they should serve to sustain life, perhaps for a long time.

Before the world ends — if it is going to — it would be worthwhile to spend some time thinking about what a set of alternate infrastructures would look like.  They would need to be very local: neighborhood and small-town sized in terms of the number of people and/or geographical area.  There would need to be food production and distribution, medical and other emergency systems, some kind of militia to protect against aggressors and so forth.  It would, in fact, look a lot like the pre-industrial world.

Suppose, instead of waiting for the end of the world to create our new (yet old) infrastructures, that we begin working on them today.  Beginning now, let us craft ways to engage with our friends and neighbors to create networks of cooperation that are small and local and robust.  Many critical systems that serve us now are as delicate and specialized as the electronic navigation system I spoke of earlier.  Let's start thinking more in terms of lighthouses and horns.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Resources


The other night, the power went out for several hours.  First time in a while.  We coped with it well enough, cooking dinner on the gas grill and sitting up past dark by lantern light.  But what if the power went out and never came back on?  I mean, never.




Several times a year, a bunch of us gather at a homestead in rural southern Delaware.  We work hard together, then as the evening winds down, cluster in groups to talk.  I often find myself seated with a handful of younger folk whose ideas and energy give me a lift.  This last time, the conversation centered on the topic of survival in the absence of social order.  It was fascinating to hear the various ideas and reflect on similar conversations I'd had decades ago with friends now long lost.  Even in the best of times, we are ever mindful of Chaos, the dark beast that haunts the perimeter, looking for a breach our walls.

There are two primary approaches to the survival problem.  At their most basic, they can be expressed as: a) learn a lot of skills and b) have a lot of stuff.  "Skills" can encompass everything from back woods survival to blacksmithing to medical arts to whatever is needed to rebuild civilization.  "Stuff" can be cash, gold, diamonds or stamps — or non-perishable goods, bottled water, tools, building supplies, etc.  Being in one camp doesn't preclude having some of elements of the other but judging by the heat of arguments between their proponents, you might as well try pushing Kraft Singles on a cheese connoisseur.

In my observation, there are serious flaws in both points of view.  Suppose you have all of the requisite woods lore to survive for months with nothing but your bare hands — and when the big breakdown comes, you're stuck in New York City . . .  Or, say you've got bunkers full of food, tons o' guns, megawatt generators and five miles of duct tape — and you're vacationing in the mountains when it all blows up.  Oops.

To be fair, I'm much more in the 'learn skills' camp though I do have a bit of 'stuff' here and there.  I believe, however, that there is a "middle way" that takes the best advantage of both schools: Be Resourceful.

"Be Resourceful" is a more focused version of the Boy Scout motto, "Be Prepared"*.  The primary skills required are observation, visualization and a healthy dose of knowing how things work.  It involves being able to adapt what you have to serve for what you need.  This kind of goes against the grain in consumer society — shouldn't we "just go out and buy" what we need?  Perhaps not.  Having grown up, shall we say, economically challenged, and the child of generations of Connecticut Yankees, we learned to make do with what we had or we did without.  But there was a basement full of tools and stuff so when beset by a burning need have something I wanted, I used my imagination to turn junk into toys — and turn my father's hair gray as I blithely scattered the contents of his workshop all over the house.

A resourceful mind causes you to save all manner of bits and pieces because they "might come in handy some day" though sometimes it may take years to find just the right use for any given part.  In every house I've lived in long enough to set up a workshop, there will be a dozen examples of something made from scraps and "adapted" hardware.  Some are stop-gaps, meant to last until the genuine article can be secured and others become an integral part of the household.

I'll give you a very high-profile example what I mean.  You may have seen the movie, "Apollo 13" (1995, Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon) which was based on an actual mission to the Moon in 1970.  During the flight, an explosion in an oxygen tank forced them to abandon the Command Service Module and cram three astronauts into the Lunar Module, a space intended for two.  This put a strain on the system that scrubbed the carbon dioxide from their breathing air, a condition that could have killed them if not corrected.  They had replacement scrubber canisters, but they were designed for the abandoned module — literally square parts that wouldn't fit into the Lunar Module's round holes.  Working with the engineers on the ground, they came up with an ingenious work-around using hoses from the space suits, storage bags, bits of cardboard and lots of duct tape (!).  Through this "kludge", they were able to survive the three day trip back to Earth.

So, how does all this apply to your life and times?  Perhaps we'll never be faced with a breakdown in our social and economic support systems but it's best not to proceed on that basis.  The truth is, there is no way of knowing what form a dramatic change might take.  Just ask the people who lived in New Orleans in August of 2005.  If I were to make a recommendation, it would be to acquire a set of "The Foxfire Books" and read them.  They are the product of a writing project started in the late '60s in which students at the school in Rabun Gap, Georgia interviewed their of elders and recorded stories and how-to information about the culture, skills and lore of southern Appalachia.  The books show you how to make a life using what nature provides.  It may not be the one true answer, but it'll get you thinking.



The power is back on again and I'm feeling just as complacent as I did before it went out.  I trust that the lights will come on the next time I flick a switch — and be bitterly disappointed if they don't.  But my world won't fall apart if that happens.  Even if the lights stayed out, I'm sure I could cope, and probably for a long time.  But you always hope you won't have to.

All the best,

Mark

* Yes, I was a Boy Scout.