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Global Warning - Sep 30, 2005 - Printable Version
- Hey, Don't Hit That Snooze Alarm Again!
by Robin Buckallew
Many of us who have been following the news over the past few weeks have found ourselves reeling under the sensory overload. Fresh from the destruction of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina, we learn that Hurricane Rita is bearing down on the Gulf Coast. Houston is ordered evacuated, and evacuees report 20 hours delays getting out of town. Stalled cars lined the highway, with the federal government promising to deliver fuel to the stranded motorists. Then, Rita veers east and hits the much smaller city of Sulphur, Louisiana. Once again, emergency response teams are needed. Once again, breathless newscasters stand outside with rain pouring down their face as they give us the latest updates and interview residents who have lost everything. Shots of New Orleans on the nightly news seem vaguely reminiscent of Baghdad. Meanwhile, on the west coast..This just in, wildfires threaten California residents, with thousands evacuated in the San Fernando Valley region. Firefighters battle the blaze, but have difficulty suppressing the flames as homeowners flee for their lives. One newscaster compares the scene to Dante's Inferno. It is easy to believe that many of the firefighters and residents suspect they have seen a glimpse of hell. Meanwhile, the "sleeping giant" stirs restlessly, reaches for the remote, and clicks off to watch Desperate Housewives or The King of Queens. America has received a wake up call - in fact, she has received many of them. America keeps hitting the snooze button. Each time a new disaster strikes, I wait with bated breath - is this the time? Will this alarm finally get through to a comfortably numb public? But always, once again, the snooze button beckons. America wishes to continue living the "American dream", even as the pleasant colors of the placid dream rapidly deteriorate into the garishly vivid colors of a surreal nightmare. The response from Washington was predictable. Our President approached the aftermath of the storms in the same enlightened, subtle way he approaches everything - by adopting the macho cowboy pose he's come to be known for, and informing us that we WILL rebuild New Orleans, otherwise the storm will have won. The governor of Louisiana echoes his sentiments - the city will be bigger, higher, more robust than ever, with even larger numbers of people. We are going to show that storm just what we are made of. We must not let it "win". Plans are already underway, the contracts already awarded to Halliburton, the prevailing wage law already overturned so they can have a ready supply of labor dirt cheap - New Orleans will rise like Phoenix from the ashes (or in this case, the mud). I can already hear the Village People warming up for a rousing rendition of "Macho Man", with George W. himself playing the title role. The only other sound I can hear is the quiet thud as I slowly and relentlessly bang my head against the wall in frustration and anger.
Pardon me, can we rework this a moment? Exactly what is it we think the storm was thinking as it roared mercilessly through and "terrorized" Louisiana? (Thud) What is the list of demands that the storm submitted? (Thud) What ransom is the storm trying to exact? (Thud) Whom exactly was the storm trying to impress? (Ouch, that hurts). Sit down, calmly breathe in and out, and repeat to yourself.it was a storm..it was a storm. A storm made up of rain and wind - lots of wind, worked up to tremendously high speeds by the warm surface water of the ocean as it passed over. A storm that brought destruction in its path not out of malice, not out of anger, but just because that is what storms do. A storm that knocked down brothels and bars, churches and homes, and the residence of Trent Lott. It was not nature "running amok", it was not "exacting vengeance", it was not "pronouncing judgment", and it was not trying to "win" anything. Storms happen. They were happening before man ever stepped out of the trees and began walking upright. Storms helped shape the world we live in, and created many of the beautiful landforms we enjoy and take for granted. They have redistributed species across continents, blowing birds out to populate empty islands, and have spread around the sediment from countless river bottoms, helping to replenish the land with all natural nutrients. For millennia, storms have been tearing down and destroying things, only to leave other things in their place. Now, without thought, without malice, and without design, a storm has torn down New Orleans. To date, what has been left in its place is garbage. Tons of debris and other garbage lie around, mute testament to the overall spiritual impoverishment of the human spirit. What the storm leaves behind is now up to us. Will we use this opportunity to rethink and reevaluate the place of our species in the overall functioning of the vast ecosphere? Or will we simply respond with threats and upraised fists, like so many vanquished bullies in a vacant schoolyard, futilely flailing at the air after the victor has departed? I hope for the former.I expect the latter.
Descriptions of the scene in New Orleans are graphic. As I read the description of tons of garbage, sewage sludge and abandoned cars that are a fixture of the city now, the oxymoron of human life struck me. In addition to the piles of garbage from the unsalvageable furniture the homeowners are just dumping outside and abandoning, the clean up workers described how carefully they must move through the abandoned areas, cleaning up each home gingerly and individually. Each home contains from three to ten pounds of hazardous material under the sink. Each car must be carefully stripped of toxic substances such as Freon and mercury before being hauled off. Stoves, refrigerators, and other appliances must be handled with care, because other hazardous substances are involved in the manufacture of such items. Excuse me, were we aware of what we were doing when we invited all this poison into our homes? Were we awake? Or were we sleepwalking through a dream of comfort and convenience, never asking the tough questions about whether all this was a good idea, or whether there was another way, perhaps a little less toxic system of manufacturing? In nature, the debris that accumulates after a storm will eventually biodegrade, returning nutrients to the soil, being taken up by plants and turned into nourishment that regenerates the system, leading to a lush, green healthy recovery. The debris that accumulated in New Orleans after Katrina will not nourish anyone. In fact, it may well end up poisoning those that once treasured it and spent a lifetime accumulating it. Meanwhile, in Congress, every session, lobbyists pour into the national capital by the thousands, seeking to make sure our representatives don't forget themselves and accidentally pass any legislation mandating that manufacturers actually notify us of what is in the products we purchase, or what effect it may eventually have on our health or well being. We, the consumer, sleep quietly and restfully, not demanding to know what we are living with, preferring the bliss that comes with ignorance.
Meanwhile, on another coast, the wildfires raging through the suburbs of southern California accentuate another burning question. This question was muted by the roar of the flood waters and the sonic boom of incompetence following Katrina. This question didn't get voice following Rita. Now it shouts for attention above all the hype and hyperbole that graces the newscasts covering the wildfires. Are there places which are not appropriate for large scale human habitation? Should we perhaps reconsider whether we truly should rebuild New Orleans where it stood, whether we should really be rebuilding these California suburbs every year after fire season is over? Perhaps that money would be better spent developing more sustainable, sensible communities in locations which can be settled without massive reworking of the landscape to make them safe. Massive reworking, I might add, which only makes them safe in the short term, often just shunting tragedy off on future generations, often increasing the scope and breadth of the tragedy when it finally occurs. We have been asleep, dreaming of a world where the human brain overcomes all obstacles, and Mother Nature bows down in subjugation before our mighty will. When nature breaks free of the restraining bonds, crashes through the walls we build to keep her out, and wreaks havoc on our cities and our homes, the result is nothing short of awesome. The grandeur of her power is terrifying. But once the wind dies down and the water recedes, we often have a tendency to forget what we just learned. We will once again do the same things we did in the past. We will rebuild New Orleans. We will populate it with huge numbers of people. We will continue to build the levees, and probably will maintain them for at least a while. We may even make a stab at restoring the long neglected wetlands, but will probably lose interest in that after a time unless a way can be found to make it turn a profit. What we will not do is put the brakes on our egos, rein in our hubris, and make our decisions based on sound science, sane politics, pragmatic economics, humane considerations, and reality.
I have a vision. A vision of a country that has the courage and the strength to undo centuries of human error. A country that has the energy and the know-how to wed modern technology with ancient knowledge, building cities that correspond to the natural lay of the land, and can be moved if needed when rivers change course, when volcanoes erupt, or when wildfires lay waste to the surrounding terrain. A country that stands humble in the knowledge of its own limitations, while standing proud as it surveys its own accomplishments. A country that leads the rest of the world, setting a shining example of what can be done and serving as an inspiration to others. I hope this country will be the country I live in and love, the country I call home. I know we have the courage. We have the energy, the strength, and the know-how. Now we just need the vision. And the humility. We need to admit that there are forces that are stronger than we are. We need to accept that we are not the center of attention for everything that moves (especially not the wind, as it has a remarkably short attention span). We need to cease the posturing and the rhetoric, and begin the planning and the building. We need to be rebuilding the future, not the past. I exhort you, wake up America. Don't hit that snooze alarm again.
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