Facing the Hard Truth of Climate Change With Optimism

Have you heard the news?  GM and Ford are producing electric versions of their Hummer and F150 trucks!  Hallelujah!  The world will be saved from climate disaster!

What? Not saved?  

 

As hard as it will be for many of us to hear, converting everything to electric is not going to turn climate change around.  And putting in massive solar and wind farms is not going to turn the tide either.  The growing need for energy across the world and the associated construction of new coal, oil and gas power plants will undoubtedly more than compensate for any gains we make with alternative energy sources and electric vehicle conversions.

 

Solar and wind energy can only be supplemental, as they are intermittent sources of energy.  There is no solar energy at night and it is diminished in cloudy weather.  The wind is also not constant.  We won’t even mention the massive environmental effect of the mining of resources necessary to construct all of the electric motors and batteries.

 

Ironically, our best bet for dramatically reducing carbon-based energy is nuclear energy, whether based on current fission technology or hoped-for future fusion reactors.  But sadly, we hastily abandoned much of our nuclear research and construction efforts in our panic over nuclear accidents such as Three Mile Island, Chernobyl and Fukishima.  Rather than use those calamities (only one of which actually resulted in any deaths at all!) to refine and perfect nuclear energy, we made the short-sighted decision to flee from it.

 

What about reducing our energy usage?  Let’s all promise to drive less, buy smaller vehicles instead of the ever more monstrous SUVs and trucks, and travel less.  Let’s build really good public transportation so people will give up their individual vehicles.  Let’s encourage local tourism and zoom business calls so people won’t have to use carbon-spewing jets.  Let’s buy fewer things and live simply so that others may simply live!

 

Yeah, right.  Aint gonna happen.

 

There will be no climate change epiphany, no sudden realization that we must all work together to solve this problem, no holding hands at the climate change summit and promising to radically change our way of life, no generous gestures by the wealthy nations to subsidize alternative energies in the developing world, no massive unified effort to seek a solution.  

 

All our paltry efforts to nibble around the edges of the problem will have some effect, but not nearly enough.  As the myriad impacts of climate change arise and proliferate, the resources and wealth we have available to attack the root of the problem will be siphoned off in a rearguard effort to stem the literal and figurative tide of disasters.

 

The longer-term future will be a brave new world of mitigating the more catastrophic effects and adapting to the new climate.  How much political and economic instability, how much population displacement, how many military confrontations, how many deaths will occur is anyone’s guess. 

 

After two years of COVID pandemic and now staring down the barrel of a climate change future, it is challenging to be an optimist.  The drumbeat of entropy, that inevitable path towards disorder, seems to be more rapid and piercing than ever.  Are we a doomed people?

But as 2022 dawns, I still have faith in the human race.  We are a resilient species with an uncanny ability to persevere and survive.  Against all odds, we have created a civilization that for all its faults has slowly but surely forged a remarkably peaceful and happy world.  I will bet on us finding a path through this tangled web of climate change.  It will not be easy, and there will be dark days ahead, but we shall overcome.

 

 

Why I am Learning French

I have been studying French for most of the COVID pandemic and the first two years of my retirement.  This may seem odd to some people.  Sometimes it even seems strange to me.  So, I am going to try to investigate why I have undertaken this challenge at this point in my life.

The first time I remember being interested in foreign languages was in 2^nd grade when I lived in Ewa Beach, Hawaii on the island of Oahu.  My father was a navy pilot at Barbers Point Air Station.  We lived in navy housing very close to the beach, which was a wonderful experience for all of us.

 

I went to the base elementary school.  My teachers were of Japanese ancestry.  Perhaps it was this first encounter of a different race and culture that sparked my interest, but I suddenly decided I would learn French and began to look through a basic French lesson book in the school library.  I don’t recall why it was French and not Japanese.  But in any event the thought of being able to comprehend or even speak another language was very exciting to me.  Not surprisingly, the fascination went dormant after a few weeks of minimal progress.

 

In fourth grade, now living in Alexandria, Virginia, our class had French lessons delivered by TV a few hours a week and we put on a French version of Little Red Riding Hood.  I was the wolf.  I imagine I gained minimal competency during this episode, but I did get good practice forming French sounds and acquiring an accent that was not too American.

 

Another break, and then I had some form of French class with a language lab from 7^th to 9^th  grade, in Palos Verdes, California.  Alas, other passions such as sports and girls, had become dominant for me and I put very little effort into my language studies during this period.  I abandoned French after 9^th grade, having completed the minimum foreign language study required for college applications.  My capabilities after these 3 years were still very primitive.

 

The great re-awakening of my foreign language interest occurred in my freshman year of college when I fell in love with a German girl, Elke Meier.  Visiting her and hearing her family speak in German was an epiphany for me.  Suddenly I was determined to master German and do a junior year abroad.   The visit had demonstrated for me the link between language and culture, and I desperately wanted to drink it all in.

 

This time the motivation endured.  I began taking German classes in the winter and even took a summer course in the evening after work at American University.  I signed up for a new Stanford program at the Universitaet Bonn and spent seven months in Germany my junior year. 

 

Upon returning, I attempted to learn Russian, but catching up in electrical engineering, playing varsity soccer and pursuing a German studies degree on top of that were already overwhelming me, so I had to quit.  But the fascination for languages never really left me.

 

I kept up my German and had the opportunity to work both with and for German companies, ending my career with a ten-year stint as the president of a U.S. subsidiary of a German high tech company.  My daughters both attended Atlanta International School and went through the German track, eventually completing bi-lingual IB diplomas in German.  My love of languages eventually infected them and they both did second majors in Spanish.  Rebecca spent all of her junior year in Madrid and Buenos Aires, and Caroline half the year in Santiago, Chile.

 

I retired at the end of 2019.  In the summer of 2020, after several months of the COVID pandemic, my daughters gave me a subscription to Rosetta Stone, knowing my interest in languages.  I began the French course in early July and completed it in mid-November.  I then found podcasts and youtube videos that accelerated my oral comprehension and began private remote lessons on italki with a very nice French woman in Blois, France.

 

I am happy to say that I can now understand clearly spoken French (at a moderate, not breakneck speed!) on most topics.  I can have a fairly detailed conversation with someone if they are patient and willing to accept some errors and some pauses.

 

But the real question is why am I doing this?  Will I ever really spend much time in French-speaking countries?  Probably not.  Will I have extensive opportunities to use my French here in Atlanta?  Probably not.  But it still gives me great pleasure to listen to French and be able to understand it, and to be able to express myself with increasing fluency.

 

Learning a language is a very measurable challenge and the progress is very noticeable.  The podcasts I listen to address all sorts of interesting topics in French history, politics and culture, which tie in nicely with other interests of mine.  French is also a very beautiful language in my estimation.  And at some point it would be nice to be able to read a well-known French novel (other than Le Petit Prince!), though that is not a primary goal.

The connection between language and thought are profound.  There is something magical about hearing an entirely new set of words of phrases and having them evoke thoughts and images in my mind.  It is like entering a new world and traversing entirely new territory.

 

I confess that for whatever reason (perhaps guilt or vanity or ennui?) I find it necessary and indeed much more fulfilling to take on challenges of this sort then to indulge the various pleasurable pastimes that are the typical fare of retirement.  I am somewhat restless, and this pastime focuses my energy and provides very nice positive feedback.  But of course I also take advantage of many simple pleasures in my daily routine.

 

I am not particularly gifted in languages, but I have enough of a facility to enjoy the process and benefit from my efforts.  I believe the project of learning a new language and culture makes me a better world citizen and provides a measure of enlightenment that might otherwise be elusive.  And in the end, it is a lot of fun, as many things that are hard work turn out to be.

Remembering Johnny

 In the winter of 1987 I was living in Americus, Georgia and working for Habitat for Humanity.  Karen and I had left our jobs in Melbourne, Florida in the summer of 1986 to become a part of this incredibly exciting movement to provide opportunities for the poor to work in partnership with Habitat to build a home for themselves.

We had no children at the time and were passionate about promoting social justice issues. Karen had joined Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat, in his law firm and was working with low income clients.  I was on the staff at Habitat as Development Director, in charge of fundraising, computers, media and PR.

We both wanted to have direct involvement with people in need, so we underwent training as Laubach Literacy Tutors and began working to help people learn to read and write.in our ‘free’ time.  Karen began to tutor a 12 year old girl who was struggling at school and I visited a prisoner in the Sumter County Correctional Institute, a medium security prison nearby.

 

The inmate I tutored was named Johnny Johnson.  He was a black man about the same size as me with the physique and leathered skin of someone who worked outside.  At our first lesson his beaming smile and friendly demeanor disarmed me and we quickly overcame the awkwardness of inmate and visitor.  I visited him twice a week, and our visits soon became a highlight for both of us.

 

Johnny had a warmth and charisma that is hard to describe.  His smile lit up his face and signaled a deep and sincere kindness.  He laughed easily and unaffectedly, and his eyes had that twinkle that seems to always be present in truly good-natured people.  He was a good-looking man, but exuded humility.

 

We worked through the Laubach Literacy workbooks methodically, and Johnny made progress, especially in reading.  But writing was much more difficult.  He had not been completely illiterate before and had acquired writing habits that were very difficult to change.

 

As the weeks went by we began to share our life stories.  Johnny told me about his childhood.  His family was very poor and he did farm work from a very early age.  Most of the inmates at Sumter were there for non-violent crimes – drugs, theft, fraud and other relatively mild offenses.  I discovered that Johnny was unique.

 

Johnny told me that he had been in prison since 1968 (it was 1986 when I started tutoring him) and that he had a life sentence.  I was stunned.  Over the next few visits he revealed the details of his story.

 

On October 25^th, 1968, in the small town of Warwick, Georgia, Johnny killed the local police officer, a white man, with a shotgun.  He was arrested and held in the local jail, but had to be quickly escorted by the state police to Albany because of the danger of lynching.  Johnny was sentenced to death after a very short trial and was put on death row in 1969.   I am not sure how close he came to being executed, but the Supreme Court decision in Furman vs Georgia in 1972 came to his rescue and his sentence was automatically commuted to life imprisonment.

 

After the commutation Johnny stayed at Reidsville, the high security penitentiary, for a couple more years.  His good behavior allowed him to be transferred to a medium-security prison for a few more years and then on to Sumter Correctional, a minimum-security facility.  By the time I met him, he had already been in prison for 18 years and had been at Sumter for over 10 years.

 

My weekly visits to Johnny created a strong relationship between the two of us.  I soon learned that Johnny was the primary farmer at the facility, which produced much of its own food, and highly regarded by all of the guards.  He spent much of each day in the fields unguarded.  He was very physically fit and healthy.

 

I had the opportunity to speak to the warden and he told me that Johnny was one of the best inmates he had ever had in his career and that he sent yearly recommendations for parole to the state parole board.  Johnny was also very close to the prison Chaplain and the AA counselor.

 

As time went on, I discovered that the warden was frustrated by the parole board’s unwillingness to grant parole.  He and his wife were both big fans of Johnny’s and both assured me that he deserved his freedom.  It was clear that whatever problems Johnny had in his youth were no longer present.

 

Therefore, as a kind of quixotic quest, I obtained letters from the warden, Chaplain and other authority figures at the facility and then submitted a request to meet with the parole board, thinking it was unlikely anything would come of it.

 

In the meantime, I used one of my trips to Atlanta to research the case in the state archives.  I was astonished at how short the trial was for a death penalty case and how little testimony was made.  The victim was the only law officer in Warwick, Georgia.  According to Johnny, there was some friction between the two of them.  The actual events of the case were murky and poorly described, but Johnny had clearly killed the man.  What was not clear were the motives and the detailed circumstances.  There was at least some evidence of lack of intention, but the jury, which had only one black member despite a 48% population in the area, was not persuaded.

 

I was shocked and very pleasantly surprised to receive an appointment with the parole board a few weeks after submitting my letter.  I assembled all the details I could about Johnny’s current status and the high regard he was held in by everyone at the correctional facility and then drove up to Atlanta for the meeting.

 

The board listened respectfully to my arguments for parole, but gave no indication of their thoughts.  I met privately with the chairman of the parole board and he indicated to me that there was strong political pressure at play preventing Johnny’s release, so I was not surprised to receive a letter denying my request a week later.  However, he said that he thought there might be a better situation within a few years.  I had the impression that this would be due to the rotation of one of the members off the board.

 

My friendship with Johnny continued to deepen.  He was allowed to visit his mother and some other family members once each quarter. One of the prison guards would drive him over and sit down with the family for the meal.  I joined him for two of those visits and had a great time getting to know his mother and sisters.

 

After Karen and I left Habitat in 1988 and moved to Atlanta for me to pursue my PhD at Georgia Tech, I continue to drive down once every month or two to visit Johnny.  His attitude was always so positive, his smile so infectious.  

 

Finally, in 1991, Johnny was paroled.  He spent a few months working almost as a kind of indentured servant for a farmer – sort of a halfway house arrangement.  I wasn’t happy about that period as I felt he was being exploited.  But soon enough he was on his own, living in Americus in an apartment and performing various tasks in the community to support himself.

 

We moved into a house in Roswell at the beginning of April, 1992, and Johnny came up on the bus to see us.  His bus arrived just in time for the largest snowfall in April in Atlanta history, about 17 inches!  He had only ever seen a dusting of snow before, so it was quite an experience for him. He stayed for several days and loved playing with our 2-year-old daughter Caroline and walking in the snow.

 

Tragically, Johnny’s life of freedom was short-lived.  He developed stomach cancer not long after his visit with us and died a year later.  I drove down for the funeral.  There were a lot of people there to mourn his passing.  He had already made many friends in his short time out of prison.

 

It was always hard for me to imagine Johnny as anything other than a kind and incredibly beautiful human being.  He committed a violent crime in his early twenties, but his was clearly a case where rehabilitation had occurred and transformed him.  His gentle spirit was evident to all.  It was a privilege to have known him and shared a bit of his life. 

Of Self-Fulfilling Prophecies and Unintended Consequences

The world is filled with contradictions, dilemmas, paradoxes and conundrums.  Right and wrong are often elusive concepts in broader social, economic and political realms.  Those of us who find it appealing to consider or even pursue utopian dreams of world peace, social equality and other idyllic conditions are stymied by the frustrating facts of human behavior and the random and uncertain nature of human interactions. 

There are two very interesting phenomena that bedevil many efforts to make progress in the world – the self-fulfilling prophecy and the unintended consequence.  Even when people attempt in good faith to find a remedy to a problem their efforts often follow these paths with rather unpleasant results.

 

A great example of the self-fulfilling prophecy is the ‘prophecy’ by 2^nd amendment rights advocates that crime, civil unrest and violence are escalating in our society.  As a response to this prophecy, they energetically worked to make guns readily available, to minimize obstacles to gun purchases, and allow open carry of weapons in public places.  Gun manufacturers responded to their efforts by ramping up their production.

 

The number of guns on the street, in cars and in homes grew exponentially.  The proliferation of weapons among citizens meant that road rage, domestic violence, alcohol or drug-fueled arguments and random responses to insults or perceived injustices resulted in exchanges of gunfire.  The prophecy has become true because of the actions taken as a response to the prophecy, thus self-fulfilling it.

 

Another self-fulfilling prophecy is our fear of Russia and its expansionist efforts to regain its Soviet-era empire.  By overreacting to this threat and aggressively recruiting former Soviet-bloc countries to NATO, we have exacerbated Russia’s traditional paranoia about its borders and fears of isolation.  This is at least part of the cause of the current crisis in the Ukraine that may actually result in a Russian invasion with all of its frightening potential consequences.

 

The second phenomenon, sometimes called the ‘law of unintended consequences’, has been recognized as a potential pitfall of human endeavor for hundreds of years.  An act intended to accomplish something perceived as good or beneficial backfires at least partially and causes a subsequent and often greater harm.  Some of the most dramatic examples are the following:

 

• The draconian measures of the Versailles Treaty after World War I contributed significantly to economic and socio-political chaos, and subsequently the growth of fascism in Germany and Italy and the outbreak of World War II.  
• The prohibition of alcohol in the 1920’s led to a rapid growth in organized crime and lawlessness that has continued to the present day.
• The encouragement and military support of the Afghanistan mujahideen and their jihad against the Soviet Union in the 1980’s amplified and accelerated the rise of Islamic fundamentalism and extremism with all of its attendant consequences.  This one is a good example of another cautionary tale – the Frankenstein monster turning on its master!
• The at-the-time seemingly clever use of CIA agents posing as polio health workers to identify the location of Osama Bin Laden in Pakistan later led to the murder of numerous health workers in Pakistan and Afghanistan who were suspected of being in league with the CIA.
• When the Royalists took back Paris from the Communards after the short-lived socialist Commune of Paris in 1871, they massacred many in the streets and then later executed a large number to discourage future revolutionaries.  But the unintended consequence was that both Lenin and Mao viewed this as evidence that any potentially reactionary foes must be eliminated without mercy and both launched operations that killed massive numbers of bourgeoisie, intellectuals and the wealthy in a similarly gruesome manner.
• Another interesting one is the crusade against nuclear power waged in the USA and in parts of Europe during the 80’s and 90’s.  The idealistic fervor at that time to save the planet from nuclear meltdowns or radioactive waste had the unintended effect of accelerating an even more catastrophic environmental risk.  The ensuing near-total decline of nuclear power resulted in massive increases in carbon-producing power plants such as coal, oil and gas.  Ironically, there is a trend among some environmentalists today to support the return of nuclear power as a way to augment and provide stability to the less constant forms of renewable energy (wind, solar).
• The philanthropic efforts of NGOs, missionaries and other charitable organizations in Africa and other developing areas often have the unintended consequence of stifling local businesses or increasing corruption.

These are only a small sampling of self-fulfilling prophecies and unintended consequences.  Even when humans attempt to solve problems with relatively good faith, they often only succeed in creating new problems or setting up disasters for the future.

 

We have the historical knowledge and ability to recognize the dangers inherent in many of the political, military or economic decisions we make.  But our political process and the people who have the power to carry out our policies are rarely acting in fully thought-out and rational ways.  It seems we humans are doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again.

Ambition

In the vast universe of ambiguous terms that are earnestly invoked, ambition looms large.  We nod our heads sagely when we hear that someone ‘has a lot of ambition’.  Parents tell their children that they must be ambitious to be successful and happy in life.  Top executives, sports stars and celebrities of all types are praised for their ambition.

But what is ambition?  Dictionaries define it as ‘an ardent desire for rank, fame, wealth or power’, or alternatively, ‘a desire to achieve a particular end’, or even ‘a desire for work or activity’.  These are three very different meanings, and I believe the differences lie at the heart of much of human anguish, heartache and conflict.

If we are ambitious to achieve some kind of recognized worldly success – fame, wealth, power, rank – then our happiness and fulfillment are tied to that goal and we may find it an elusive one. For these aims are closely linked to our ego.  They correspond to a desire to be acknowledged as superior to others.

The addiction to that kind of vanity is a need that can never truly be satisfied.  There is always someone wealthier, more famous, more powerful.   Under the veneer of confidence and self-satisfaction there is always the deep, lurking awareness that those accolades are empty and that one’s life has become a charade of fulfillment.

If, however, our ambition is indeed primarily a ‘desire for work or activity’, then the joy and satisfaction derived from that kind of ambition is incorruptible.  There is no limit to the ways that this ambition may be fulfilled, no end to the activities that may be undertaken. 

Many people start out with their ‘ambition’ truly being an expression of energy and inquiry.  They become fascinated by something or discover that they have a talent or skill in some area.  At first, the sheer joy of performing that activity is what drives them.  The acquisition of knowledge or expertise is the sole object of their ambition.  Their native curiosity and creative instinct move them forward. 

But as they win praise or awards for their efforts, they risk being seduced by that recognition, and the pure joy of doing and discovering is slowly displaced by the insidious need for affirmation and adulation.

Human beings are social creatures, and the need for positive feedback from others has no doubt been deeply embedded in our DNA over millennia of evolution.  We will always want our efforts and achievements to be acknowledged in some manner by others in our circle of acquaintance.  But the acquired addiction to public acclaim and renown, or to massive wealth and power, is more closely related to the darker sides of human nature.

If I write a story, then I have created something, and if it is pleasing to me then I am satisfied in the effort.  If others read the story with pleasure, then that is also a good thing. But if that story becomes famous and I become a celebrated author, then it is more than likely that I will no longer write solely for the love of creation but will be ever more attuned to my ascension in the literary world and derive my pleasure from that fickle abstraction.

Of course there is, alas, much of human ambition that is focused from the start on power, fame and wealth.  As in all things, moderation may be viewed as a watchword in these cases. There is nothing wrong with the goal of achieving financial stability or a position that provides interesting and challenging activities.  Climbing the corporate ladder or starting a company can be a wonderful experience, and part of the allure of these accomplishments is the attainment of a comfortable lifestyle and a position that allows one to have impact or control.

But all too often the seductive nature of power and wealth acts to create an unseemly lust that overwhelms the innocent purposes of self-fulfillment.  The energy and the goals are soon skewed toward the extremes.  The balance is lost.

Ambition is, like many things in life, a continuum that defies easy praise or condemnation.  It seems to me that leaning toward ‘desiring work or activity’ as opposed to cultivating an ‘ardent desire for rank, fame, wealth or power’ is the healthy and positive way to form ambition.  It would seem to offer a much less volatile path to a satisfactory life experience and have much less of a negative impact on the world.