The road less cycled

I don’t these days have a great deal of time for reading; really much of my reading is done while waiting for or on buses, or when I’m simply too distracted to focus on my assignments. When I do find the time to do some reading, I’ve been sticking my head into E.F. Schumacher’s “Small is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered,” and putting more time into it than I should be as exam season nears, not because I have so much time, but because it’s a topic which resonates so powerfully with me at the moment. It’s more the “Small is Beautiful” than the Economics….part that attracted me to this title, as I’m not necessarily looking for economic insights; rather for philosophical ones. I wouldn’t even be able to pinpoint how this book came into my consciousness; it was suddenly just there and I ordered it. I knew it existed and who wrote it, even though I hadn’t recently saw a review of it or had a friend recommend it, or anything like that. I think I had marked it into my subconscious as an important title to read, and it spontaneously arose recently.

Why is this title so intriguing to me? I was led into wanting to further explore this concept by Arundhati Roy’s “The God of Small Things,” a book I didn’t even finish, but gleaned some pretty important stuff from; one central insight in particular. In her novel (and it’s a unique accomplishment for her to weave a philosophical plank into a work of fiction), a chaotic, disorganized, random (read realistic) story is woven of a complicated set of family relationships, violence, overlaid by political and economic theory. [SPOILER ALERT]Some very disheartening things take place, extremely regretful things, and one of the twins in the novel becomes mute as a result of the turmoil. Towards the end, characters are intentionally withdrawing themselves, retracting, from the chaotic interplay of macr0-events beyond their control, and focusing just on the things that they can control: the small things that are really important in life; laughter about the little things in the knowledge that they pale in comparison to the world outside; that terrible things are happening and have happened, things that involvement in brings too much sadness.

My life to date has been a relative cakewalk. I’ve had things extremely easy, even in comparison to other people in my community sphere who by all accounts are fairly well off. There was no family turmoil; the bills were always paid; and I wasn’t shuffled from school to school or family to family. Even so, as I learn about the way that the world works and I realize how incredibly fortunate I have been to live where I do, I see how convoluted this world of 7 billion of us really is, and how much deceipt, corruption, and half-truth is ingrained into the system. I see how desensitized and apathetic so much of the populace is; how uninformed and overworked so many are, and sometimes, I do despair of this state of affairs. It is a difficult to hear of how Thoreau’s haunts in Maine are being turned into subdivisions as I write; how the Pacific Coast’s salmon stocks appear to be heading down the exact same path as the Atlantic cod stocks (do we humans never learn? are we capable of resisting the relentless momentum to grow, grow, grow, expand, expand, expand?), how we spend billions lining the pockets of vaccination companies in response to threats which scarcely rival hosts of other, less hyped, mortality threats, a symptom of our fixation with the almighty buck and the corruption that I mentioned.

In light of these things, it becomes extremely tempting to rock out, consume conspicuously, act on nothing more than whims and feeling, and burn out at an earlier point than is possible; either that, or become a beach-comber a la Richard Bach, or establish an independent self-sufficient homestead in some region of the world less influenced by the ravages of modern culture and isolated from the goings on of this crazed culture of ours.

Establishing an independent homestead is, at this point, out the question. I don’t think it’s impossible. It is also against my ideology; we as a species have stretched our resources too far and made our reach to pervasive to further spread ourselves out. If we are going to re-equilibrate in wilderness from time to time, we must do so from urban headquarters where we spend much of our time, with occasional jaunts into a diminishing wilderness. That, perhaps, is the only practical solution to prevent catastrophic resource collapse and climate change, which we need to adopt sooner than later if we want to live in a whole and fulfilling way that is not continually beset by challenging climatic events and scarce resources. I know that Malthus said the same thing many years ago, but the continuing loss of biodiversity has to be abated.

So finding my own personal little piece of turf, several acres or so in size, to call home, while appealing, doesn’t pass the, “What would happen if everybody did this test?” Living self-contained, sustainably, in community with genuine, caring people with access to wilderness tracts to blow off steam does. With which people, though? The people I know have such disjointed, differing goals and dreams in life that the prospect of distilling some cohesion out of them is daunting.

What I’m realizing is that the title “Small is Beautiful” is a double-edged sword. Perhaps “Small is Necessary” is more correct. It’s double-edged because I’m starting to discern that the vast majority lives in a small world, buying what’s put in front of their faces without questioning from where and how it comes; living according to the dictates of what economic conditions say must be done to feed their family and satisfy their desires and cravings. Perhaps I don’t like this pursuit of small-ness after all; perhaps if there were more of us who understood how economics, ecology, and politics really work, the domain of macro-factors, the phrase “Small is Necessary” would be untrue, and that understanding doesn’t come from an engagement only with the small things.

So I don’t pretend to have all the answers, hence the probing and querying nature of this weblog. From “Small is Beautiful” I wanted to leave you with a quotation of a writing by Soren Kierkegaard that is perhaps the entry point to metaphysical questioning:

“One sticks one’s finger into the soil to tell by the smell in what land one is: I stick my finger into existence – it smells of nothing. Where am I? Who am I? How came I here? What is this thing called the world? What does this world mean? Who is it that has lured me into this thing and now leaves me there? … How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted…but was thrust into the ranks as thought I had been bought of a kidnapper, a dealer in souls? How did I obtain an interest in this big enterprise they call reality? Why should I have an interest in it? Is it not a voluntary concern? And if I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director? … Whither shall I turn with my complaint?”

One only wonders if it is an end point as well.

Salmon run is in full swing on Stoney Creek. Both coho and chum salmon have been spotted, with numbers running roughly around 3 chum and 6-8 coho. All the volunteers are enjoying being in and around the creek frequently. The dog-off leash status of Stoney Creek continues to frustrate, but as we tell dog walkers, dogs are not the biggest problem facing Stoney Creek’s salmon; still, they are significant enough to curtail (ahahaha, no pun intended). Here’s photos of creek life:

First stages of decomposition, pointing the way downstream.

Comparison of a spawned out coho to a pair of shears I used to clear blackberries.

A close-up of a coho that is so fresh it looks like it would just start swimming if you put it back in the water.

Nurse log, busily creating habitat - a beautiful riffle has formed behind it.

Southwestern BC is getting whacked by a pineapple express dumping lots of water on it today and over the next few days. The headline in the Province today said that 300mm of rain is expected by Tuesday, something that could trigger flooding and landslides. While we expect this kind of stuff here in the Fraser Valley, this kind of storm is also one that is completely consistent with the predicted effects of global warming, as greater variation in temperatures causes more intense storms.

It’s a trend that seems accurate for this area to my memory, though at this point I don’t have hard data on the average rainfall amount for, say, the last 10 years, a statistic which would be very telling. As global temperatures continue to increase, the expected trend is higher river volumes than usual during storms, coupled with more severe droughts during dry seasons; effects which are likely to mean that rivers will create more erosion and will be more dangerous to people and buildings in floodplains.

This comes as world leaders, in advance of a climate treaty negotiation session in Copenhagen, seem to already be scuttling the possibility of a deal by stating in advance that a deal is unlikely. Perhaps that is the politically realistic approach; it’s also the cowardly approach. The climate situation is urgent enough that a global treaty is essentially imperative, and not arriving at a deal should not be considered a viable option.

In the prevailing debate between economists and environmentalists, what Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party have to realize is that without a stable environment, economic stability, except in the very short term, is impossible. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that as climatic volatility increases, the cost of addressing the damage of more floods, more dikes, and more erosion will increase as well.

Our Prime Minister might be a brilliant political strategist, but some things just seem to escape him. He can be called many things, but a genius isn’t one of them.

“The whole US economy is based on debt,” he said. “In fact, without debt, it wouldn’t work at all.”

The guy doing the talking was my brother. He was something like 16 or 17 years old, I believe, making me 13 or 14. He’d read some kind of book on it he said, so it had to be true. My memory of the time is vague, but the details are definite.

As is often the case, I didn’t really respond in any memorable fashion, just kind of letting the thought and information sink in but not really doing anything with it. I think my reaction was one of mild disbelief; the concept was too abstract at that age to do much with, but still firm enough that I intuitively didn’t like it. How could this be true? How could it be possible for an entire economy to revolve around debt, and for people to still save and get ahead despite this reality?

To tell you the truth, I don’t think I fully believed him, figuring that somewhere he must have missed a few points. Even to a 14 year old, it was obvious that an economist or a politician who designed a system in which the presence of money depended on the absence of it ought to be fired, and it couldn’t be that we need to fire our politicians, could it? So it was obvious to me the guy had a couple of screws loose somewhere; I just wasn’t sure which ones.

Having taken the time to ask a few questions about economics since that time, it’s become clear to me that the basic idea is true. Want to buy a house? Get yourself a death-pledge (just the translation of mortgage, hold on to your horses now) from your local money-lenders. Where does the money come from? At its root, the central bank, to whom you indirectly owe the money back. Here’s the kicker: until you asked for the mortgage, that money didn’t exist. Since you asked for it, it was brought into existence, and now you owe it back. In the meantime, that money which you now brought into existence trickles into the hands of your real estate agent, the builder, and the investor, who then spend the money on groceries and other consumer goods, providing our wages and boosting the economy.

Before you ask, no, the Canadian system isn’t dramatically different from the American one. The same principles apply. The key is that you have to understand the functioning of debt and credit, and understand how you can use them to your advantage, because if you don’t they’ll sweep you under the rug. Is it ideal? Probably not. But since all we seem to want is expansion and entertainment instead of satisfaction and sustainability, the system seems to work for us.

Therein lies the quandary. If it works for you, it doesn’t work for us. If it works for us, it doesn’t work for you, because debt’s everywhere you turn.

Smart guy, the K-man.

I once again venture into politics, briefly, tonight. The Wildrose Alliance in Alberta seems to getting more press these days, and today headlines linking the Wildrose Alliance and the BC Conservative Party appeared. Now I wouldn’t mind if the BC Liberal vote was split a little, but a quote from the Wildrose leader caught my eye in the Globe & Mail today.

It went like this: “Danielle Smith, the rookie leader of Alberta’s Wildrose Alliance Party, say’s BC’s Progressive Conservatives must focus on issues that matter to voters in selecting their next party chief.”

Ummm…I’m confused. Just why did she open her mouth? The statement kinda leaves me waiting for the politician who says, “you know, we’ve talked way too much about things voters care about. It’s time to change that up. It’s time for some glorious irrelevance.”

Seriously. Inane statements like that are why people don’t vote. Oh, wait. That’s exactly what the big parties want…

Looking back, it’s evident I’ve long been a complete rebel behind the scenes, and a partial one in my conduct. I disliked everything unfamiliar to me in childhood, from music to vegetables to swimming. I’m paying for that now. As a teenager, it was being human that got my gander. If everybody was getting their first car, I was busy cycling around. If everybody was forming social groups, I wasn’t going to be part of any social clique, and I just did my own thing. If everyone was listening to whatever band was popular back then (and I kid you not, I really have no idea), I was only interested in differentiating between the calls of a black-headed grosbeak and a robin. (ever tried it? it ain’t easy). If everybody was celebrating some cultural holiday, I couldn’t really have cared less, seeing only an orgy of consumerism based on questionable history where others saw an excuse to celebrate. Back in teenage days, sex too, was new of course, and even there I just said, well hey, all 20 billion (or whatever the number is) of us humans who’ve ever graced this planet do that… Sure, I’m sure it’s fun, but what’s unique in that? As a friend of mine quotes on her profile, a quote I rather like, “Human beings are here because of several million years of sexy ancestors.” (G & K Hendricks). Well, I can pick holes all through that argument, but still there’s a lot of truth there.

I bring these things up because I sometimes lament my lack of rebellion, despite the fact that I disagree with consumerism, growth at all costs, genetic modification, over-harvesting, burning gas so prolifically, eating animal flesh unnecessarily, not cycling places, monopolizing resources, make-up, fashion, over-consumption, capitalism, socialism, and most other “ism’s,” violence of any sort for most if not all reasons, etc. etc. etc. Hell, I’ve rebelled against just about everything we do as a species, just not in overly blatant or confrontational ways. It’s no wonder my psyche was where it was and is where it is, or that lately I delight in flagrantly and hypocritically counteracting my supposed worldview of ideal conduct.

You’ve likely realized by now how easily I put a positive spin on things. We humans are really capable of rationalizing anything, a theme I return to time and time again, and I have only barely gotten started. Fortunately, I’ve held off of acquiring too much history to have to rationalize.

Because I’m no illusionist, as she warned against. No, it’s all laid out for all to see. I realize I sometimes seem to invoke a certain stereotype more often associated with the feminine; that of being “complicated”. Well, first of all, I’ve never liked stereotypes or put much stock into them, but secondly if being “simple” is an attractive attribute, what planet do you hail from?

She said he told her that, “He wasn’t even worth the oxygen that he breathed..” She said she told him to, “get a grip!” (pauses for a swig of coffee, contemplating writing three blog posts in one night. That night, too).

It’s dangerous, this big picture stuff. This (more coffee) rigidity of thinking. As per the title of Roy’s book, perhaps God only goes exist in the small things of life. Perhaps you’ll only truly find that God-essence if you limit your universe. Too much, too early, is suffocating, and de-motivating. To the Beatitudes should be added, “Blessed are they who live in ignorance,” because as has been made cliche, ignorance is bliss. Blissed, then, are the ignorant.

Terrible singing. Self-deprecation. Unwitting embarrassment. Breaking a sweat. Puns, wit, and good cheer. In these are the spice of life; not in tackling humanities’ ills. The proof that we are worth the air we breathe, the food we consume, the space we inhabit, is that we are here. That we were born. I have no explanation for it, but it cannot be random. It simply cannot be. If it is not random, it is meaningful; a conclusion derived from deductive reasoning of the highest illogical order. Last year around this time I wrote that, “It has to be important that we learn collective self-restraint and abandon selfishness by embracing altruism and humility, and we have some level of free-will in determining our path, be it self-destruction or evolution to a higher level of consciousness, I have a hard time believing that all of this can end in the erasing of one of the universe’s chapters, namely the human chapter, with nothing to show for it. That we could simply fuck things up, orchestrate our own demise, and become a mere blip on the radar, a failed experiment on the part of God knows who.”

I stand by those words today. I think of them as consolation to those, like myself, who are prone to devaluing our own existence in the context of the immense, overwhelming, unfathomable, and hidden ways in which our success looms as our failure. Perhaps soon, I will renounce, to the same extent that x cannot equal zero, environmentalism for all except possibly employment, because it is so limiting, and I’ve done my bit. Perhaps, I’ve already done so, in all except habit…

Or perhaps, there are other things which would be better to renounce. Any takers? (more coffee; it’s a good thing I’m driving this weekend, or something stronger might be the order of the day).

We surveyed the lower reaches of Stoney Creek this morning, the three of us and Slesse. Already there are salmon here; a welcome change from 2007, the first year that this creek was surveyed, when salmon and only coho didn’t appear until mid-to-late November. Today there were 2 chum and 2 coho in just the lower section, with 2/3 of the creek left unsurveyed to date, something that will be done soon.

Stoney is such a great indicator stream to survey; without question one of if not the best in Abbotsford. It’s entire riparian strip remains relatively intact, unlike many streams that flow through farmland or urban environments. At the same time, it’s watershed is quite heavily urbanized, creating high run-off conditions; usually something that is a strongly negative factor in a stream’s biological health. The creek is bordered in multiple places by well-used walking trails, meaning spawning populations and the streambed are heavily impacted by canines of all sorts, from the ones that gambol and frolic joyously in Stoney’s pools to the ones that plod morosely at their human companion’s heels. Lastly, the creek has seen heartening efforts at mitigation of some of our negative influences, with the culvert having been reconstructed to improve fish access during low water conditions, and large amounts of invasive blackberry having been removed and replaced with native vegetation, which admittedly is still too young to give the stream the same protection as the blackberry did, but will do a far better job of that when mature.

Stay tuned for pics and more reports, or better yet, come with us.

Writing on the weblog is not something I should be doing just now. Blogging is something I ought to reserve for times when I have something of particular interest to contribute, rather than times of soul-searching and existential crisis. This blog isn’t intended to be a raw, no-holds barred transcription of my life, and it isn’t going to become that either. But often I’m tempted to write that way, and resist for a few reasons, among them that I can’t write about a lot of the most urgent and pressing issues in my personal life without also writing about other people whose anonymity I can’t really protect even by using only initials or aliases, because it’s their relationship to me that’s important.

Perhaps more importantly, it would mess with my psyche to be writing about stuff that isn’t related to sustainability and policy and transportation. To clarify, it’s not that not writing about those things would get to me; more that the other topics I’d tackle wouldn’t sit too well with me, being items rather unsuitable to be made that public.

Suffice to say that at this point and time, despite living in one of the most fortunate places on Earth and basically having everything handed to me on a silver platter until perhaps the last few years, I’m finding the term “basket-case” a frighteningly accurate description of my state of mind; something I’d attribute to being 25% my fault, but also to my challenges being 90% out of my control, offering 0% satisfaction to address, yet feeling like 100% of my responsibility at the same time, with the results being a constant oscillation between being a penny-pincher and wantonly blowing my wad, which is better than being indulgent 100% of the time, but still not so good. And that is as specific as I’m going to get. (I am starting to sound like an economist, what with assigning a value to everything, aren’t I?

It is, after all, Halloween morning. If it was otherwise, don’t you think I’d be out partying?