A Sustainable Train of Thought

That would be billions of dollars. One amount is how much the United States of America has annually spent on programs or initiatives which address global warming (to be fair, they qualify the amount with “almost”). One amount is this year’s annual budget request from the Pentagon. Or maybe it does. Not that a couple of misplaced billions here or there makes that much of a difference I suppose¹.

Guess which story was on Page A1 of the New York Times today? Guess which story was on Page A11 of the New York Times today?

Pithy Bush Administration apologist quote:

Administration officials asserted Friday that the United States had played a leading role in studying and combating climate change, in part by an investment of an average of almost $5 billion a year for the past six years in research and tax incentives for new technologies.

At the same time, Secretary of Energy Samuel Bodman rejected the idea of unilateral limits on emissions. “We are a small contributor to the overall, when you look at the rest of the world, so it’s really got to be a global solution,” he said.

The United States, with about 5 percent of the world’s population, contributes about a quarter of greenhouse gas emissions, more than any other country.

I’m not even going to touch the Pentagon budget requests, which apparently include funding for such dubious projects as the so-called Missile Shield. I’d like to know how a missile shield is going to protect us from a 23-inch rise in sea levels, which, by the way, is considered a conservative estimate. Some estimates now put rising sea-levels at anywhere from 12 to 20 FEET.

Al Gore showed the effects of a 20 foot rise in sea levels in An Inconvenient Truth which, if you remember, depicted quite a bit of New York City underwater.

Thanks Missile Shield!

Ironically (if one can even use such a term when discussing these matters), the science upon which this latest Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report is based may already be out of date:

Dr. Shindell, who emphasized that he was speaking as an individual, said, “The melting of Greenland has been accelerating so incredibly rapidly that the I.P.C.C. report will already be out of date in predicting sea level rise, which will probably be much worse than is predicted in the I.P.C.C. report.”

The big question now is whether we can afford to wait another two years until the Bush regime is over before taking action.

“Policy makers paid us to do good science, and now we have very high scientific confidence in this work — this is real, this is real, this is real,” said Richard B. Alley, one of the lead authors and a professor at Pennsylvania State University. “So now act, the ball’s back in your court.”

¹ (For the record, the Bush Administration is requesting $93 billion on top of the Pentagon request to support the war in Iraq.)

Great post by Alexandra over at designswarm, where she talks about industrial design, responsibility, sustainability, and the perils of mass production at any volume.

One of the things I identified in my thesis work is the need for legislation to support necessary causes. Free markets cannot be 100% free: every game requires SOME rules, and legislation needs to set those rules in the free market. So political will must exist to legislate for change. And of course political will is derived from the will of the people. HOW that change occurs is not as important as stating that it’s important and necessary, and that we need to be THERE instead of HERE. The how of it all should be left to the markets to decide, because that’s what they do best.

So we need legislation to define the rules, and we need education and production to supply the materials. One of my major gripes is that so-called “green architecture” is separated out from ‘regular architecture” by virtue of calling it green. I don’t want to talk about green architecture. Rather, what I would like to see is no distinction at all between “green” and “regular” architecture. That is, architecture absorbs the values of green architecture and it’s just the way things are done. Period.

Maybe the same thinking needs to happen in industrial design. That is, get things to a point where there’s no distinction between green industrial design and traditional industrial design. Maybe the motivation for doing so lies outside of the field itself. Because, as Alex points out, who really cares about something once it’s outside of your domain? I made the prototype, now I’m on to the next one and it’s your business to dispose of it. Not unlike all of those old computers that end up in China.

So we need to get out there and talk to people about why it’s important to learn and invent new ways of making things, and it’s important to educate people enough so they demand change. Markets consist of supply and demand, yet even as we have more tools for expressing ourselves these days than at any other point in history, I feel like everyone’s given up on stimulating demand. That is, making their voices heard, demanding change, specifying a new future they’d rather live in. This is not a unique paradox.

That sounds awfully like a manifesto, and perhaps it is. I’m a little reluctant to label it as such because manifestos have an unpopular aura around them. But maybe the problem with manifestos in the past has been their lack of circulation outside of the field they address. For example, how many non-Graphic Designers know of First Things First?

So lay it out: Here is the current state of the industrial design industry. This is why this industry is important. This is what’s not so great about it and why. This is where we need to be and why. And this is why you (the ordinary, non-industrial designer) needs to care about this.

Get ordinary people to read it. Get industrial designers to read it. Get politicians to read it. Get them to sign it. And give them some means of action beyond signing. Help them take it to the next level by bringing action closer to the point of decision: YES, I want to change this, and hey, here’s something I can do right now.

Maybe that’s voting with your dollars, and here are some materials you’ll want to avoid, or companies which are better than others. Maybe that’s reading up on the matter, with a selection of books on the subject. Or maybe…what else can you think of?

The problem as I see it is that I am not an industrial designer and therefore do not have access to the industrial design world. Yet I am deeply affected by everything that industry does, because as a consumer I buy everything they make! So how can we get a dialog going? I want to support those industrial designers trying to make a difference. Maybe that’s through the money I spend, but maybe it’s also by giving them a voice, by giving them support in their decisions, by helping them push change through their industry.

Industrial designer: “See, it’s not just me! I’ve got a list of 10,000 people who will buy a product if it has these attributes and costs this much.”

The markets are out there. We need to make them heard.

It’s not just markets though. It’s also citizenry. And industrial designers are the best positioned to talk about the materials they use. Get some toxicologists in there and enumerate the problems with those materials. Don’t blame anyone, but suggest alternatives. What materials can we use instead? Talk to McDonough Braungart Design Chemistry. After all, it’s your health that’s at stake. And we need your help to enact change. Talk to your politicians and get them concerned about these issues to. Because if people start getting concerned about these issues, politicians will have to listen, and legislation will have to be passed. That’s the kind of country we live in, but it only works if we, the people, have the motivation and perseverance to pursue that kind of change.

The point is, a single movement in a single industry isn’t going to change things as effectively as a multi-faceted approach: education, politics, citizens, professionals.

And we need tools to achieve these ends. How can we enable people to enact and encourage change on their own? We’ve got blogs, we’ve got Web 2.0, we’ve got a rising awareness of environmental issues…seems to me like we’ve got the ingredients to go out there and begin to make a difference.

So why don’t we?

The bottle caps on Nantucket Nectars always have a factoid written on the inside. Today, mine had this to say:

The average annual snowfall on Nantucket is 5 inches, in 2003-2004 it was 71 inches.

Hmm. Pretty dry stuff, even if it does look like a big difference when drawn like this:

But compare that rendering to this one:

Kinda changes things, doesn’t it?

While relegating evidence of climate change to factoids on the bottle caps of sugary drinks is problematic in its own right (does knowledge of what could be our civilization’s impending doom complement the refreshing qualities of the beverage?) more troubling is the lack of “next steps”. Am I supposed to absorb this information and feel depressed? Or should I feel motivated to do something about it?

Instead of energy-sapping factoids of doom and gloom, let’s take the “Oh ****!” reaction that we all have when we realize exactly what’s going on and channel that energy towards producing positive change. I like analogies:

It’s as if we’re on a ship that’s taking on water, and instead of bailing, engineering simply analyzes how fast the water is rising and periodically issues status updates on the situation.

Or perhaps more accurately, we’ve got a ship for sale that was pretty nice at one point, but it’s been a little abused and now it’s worn down and springing a few leaks. And instead of fixing the problems before selling it, we’re just carrying on as usual, hoping it won’t fall apart until after we hand it off to the new owners (which happens to be the next generation: our children), hoping that they won’t notice the puddles of water on the floor before they sign the papers.

Seems like Project Runway has something to contribute to climate change after all in Tim Gunn’s famous words: Make it work.

When you’ve got a deadline and the clock is ticking….hmm, sounds vaguely familiar to the situation we currently find ourselves in. Almost any action is better than staying on our present course. True, we can’t be sure that the choices we make now are the right ones, or the least harmful ones, or even beneficial ones. But we need to make the best decisions we can given the information we currently have. And if we discover that things aren’t working out quite how we intended, well, we’re going to have to adapt and change our strategy.

This points to a larger issue: we need an agile world, agile civilizations, agile cultures. We need to take charge and be proactive participants in change, not merely the recipients of it.

The subtle truth in the bottle cap is that we can no longer take anything for granted: the future will not be like the past. Unless we recognize and adapt to this new reality, we are living in yesterday’s paradigms and are in danger of being blind-sided by the present.

(The following is an excerpt from my thesis report.)

Things take time to happen. Change is slow. Even things which appear to happen quickly, such as the fall of the Berlin Wall, take long periods of time (and sometimes a long chain of events) to enable those moments. In essence, we’re talking about long gestation periods before birth.

And in that sense, I think my thesis topic is opportunely timed. So-called “green” behavior or sustainable behavior has become chic and begun to enter the mainstream. As more momentum builds, we may eventually reach a tipping point.

Tipping points, as described by Malcolm Gladwell in his book The Tipping Point, are moments when a momentum of change manifests itself through seemingly small actions. As an example, if you remove parts of a scaffolding, it may remain standing for some time. As you remove more parts, the structure becomes more and more unstable. Finally, removing one or two critical parts will cause the entire structure to collapse. While it may seem like removing those final parts were the crucial actions, in reality all the steps were critical; the last two merely constituted the tipping point where the consequences of all the previous actions became manifest.

But just as it takes time to implement and effect change, we also face a deadline by which change must occur. One part of the equation is time horizons: when will things start to happen? In a chart outlining “potential military implications of climate change,” the Pentagon talks about the years 2010 to 2030. Jared Diamond talks about a time-frame of less than 50 years from today by which point we will begin to see the effects of the twelve issues he outlines.

This leads into the other dimension of the question “how long do we have?”, a dimension which I believe is more critical: at what point can we still do something to prevent or remediate the problems and their symptoms? This question is made more nuanced when one realizes the lag-time associated with certain phenomena and the observation of their effects. For instance, chemical interference in our endocrine system may occur now, but the results will not be felt for several generations, by which point it will be too late to take action. Global warming means that Siberian permafrost will begin to melt—areas of permafrost in Alaska have already started to melt—releasing methane and other greenhouse gases currently sequestered within the permafrost into the atmosphere, further strengthening global warming through an effect known as a positive feedback loop.

How long will it take for us to implement solutions? How long before these positive feedback loops take hold? These are weighty questions, although I decided to ignore them, at first because they were too distracting and contentious, and finally because I’d rather be working towards change rather than constructing a more accurate doomsday clock. However, the larger issue of time still remains an important focus within my thesis.

———

Comments:

Yes, it’s important to understand the scale and scope of the problems we face. But measurements take time, and by all indications we are running low on that resource. I sincerely feel it is better to take action which we know will have a less harmful effect than to wait around for a consensus on definitive results and recommendations (if such things can ever be reached).

For example, we need to reduce the amount of CO₂ that humans release into the atmosphere. Is it important to know by exactly how much? In the grand scheme of things, no, we just need to reduce emissions and ideally eliminate them. Yes, we need methods to measure reductions and to figure out whether solutions are effective. But focus too hard on measurements instead of action and you’ll chart the rising level of water in a sinking ship until it’s too late to bail. And in the case of the Earth, we have no lifeboats.

While the first attempts to implement reductions on a wide scale will probably not be very efficient, that efficiency will increase over time as technology, measurements, and our understanding improve. In the meantime, companies will have actually done something, producing at least two major results: 1) a reduction in some part of emissions, and 2) good publicity.

As people begin to realize the seriousness of the situation and demand action, corporate values will come under increasing scrutiny. After all, it’s in no company’s interest to kill its customers, and any company that takes a cavalier attitude towards the climate crisis could very well find itself with an outraged public. (Think about Exxon…)

(The following is an excerpt from my thesis report.)

The second point is that large systems are complex. While this may seem self-evident, I raise this point because any solution I could potentially pursue within this thesis will be part of a larger puzzle. There is no single answer that will solve all the world’s problems. That said, it is better to embrace that complexity than shy away from it. Understanding the inherent interconnections is key to comprehensive, effective, and lasting solutions.

Sustainability embraces education, economics, business, belief systems, and much more. Although these interrelationships can be hard to figure out, they are critical to solving or at least understanding and addressing some of these massive problems. The tricky part lies in the fact that not all of the interrelationships are visible or even make immediate sense. A report released by the Pentagon in early 2005 described some of the social and economic effects of climate change:

The report explores how such an abrupt climate change scenario could potentially de-stabilize the geo-political environment, leading to skirmishes, battles, and even war due to resource constraints such as:

1. Food shortages due to decreases in net global agricultural production


2. Decreased availability and quality of fresh water in key regions due to shifted precipitation patters, causing more frequent floods and droughts


3. Disrupted access to energy supplies due to extensive sea ice and storminess

[Note that I’ve removed an excerpt from Jared Diamond’s Collapse because of copyright concerns when publishing on the Web. The gist of this missing excerpt is that while the Third World has First World aspirations, the reality is that world resources cannot sustain the current population living at First World standards, much less the added population of the Third World. Diamond asks, “What will happen when it finally dawns on all those people in the Third World that current First World standards are unreachable for them, and that the First World refuses to abandon those standards for itself (Diamond 496)?”]

And according to William McDonough:

“The Chinese are going to house 400 million people in the next 12 years. It’s the largest migration of humans in history. Essentially they’re rebuilding the housing stock of two Americas—in 12 years. ... [The China Housing Industry Association] did a mass-energy study on what would happen if all 400 million units were built with brick. They’d lose all their soil and burn all their coal. You’d have cities, but you wouldn’t have any food or energy. That’s how big this is. In fact, 174 jurisdictions have made brick illegal (Pederson).”

The intricacies of interrelationships are brought into sharp relief when talking about China. Because of its massive population and First World aspirations, any behavior which affects the world’s infrastructure, both natural and man-made, has world-wide consequences.

———

Comments:

It’s impossible to understand all the myriad connections. What’s more important is to constantly monitor and evaluate the situation and to be flexible enough to change tactics and tweak solutions when needed.

By acknowledging the importance of sustainability, a whole bunch of stakeholders are added to the situation. While we may have insight into and experience with some of those stakeholders, others are completely new (at least for the purposes of these sorts of calculations) and not very well understood. It would be foolish to think we understand everything when in fact we’ve just begun to explore the effects and implications of our actions on the word around us.

(The following is an excerpt from my thesis report.)

First in my mind is the concept that the world as a finite reality. We have finite space, finite water, finite resources. They may be unimaginably large amounts of resources, but they are finite because the earth is a finite space. And that finite-ness is being tested through exponential population growth, worldwide resource drawdown, climate change, and a ticking clock, among other things. Jared Diamond, in his book Collapse, puts the timeline at less than 50 years. That’s time enough whereby I will be alive to see the consequences of my ancestors’ choices, and where my children (should I choose to have them) will be living in what could be dramatically different conditions. By supplying a concrete number, Diamond helps an otherwise abstract concept of “someday” assume great urgency. And it is this tendency towards abstraction which threatens our sense of reality.

Typically, we think of waste “going away” when we throw it out. Or wood for our homes coming from someplace where they grow trees. But in a finite world facing the unknowable consequences of globalization, it really does matter where “away” is, and where those trees are coming from. That salmon in a Pennsylvania WalMart actually came from Peru, twenty-four hours ago and several thousand miles away (Fishman). That transaction has a cost, invisible though it may be, and, I’d venture, it’s a cost which nobody thinks twice about. After all, it is generally held as a good thing that people in Pennsylvania have fresh Peruvian salmon, and I am inclined to agree on an abstract level. But I am also faced with the reality that growing, shipping, and consuming that salmon has very real environmental, social, and economic consequences.

———

Comments:

I still think that we have an almost impossible task in attempting to wrap our heads around how large, yet finite, the world is. I’ve been reading the new Tufte book Beautiful Evidence and one of his complaints (among many) is that NASA doesn’t provide scale information when showing photos of celestial bodies. My immediate thought was, Well, stick an Earth in there an you’ll get some scale.

Yet how many of us have an understanding of what that really means? Put a shoe next to a car and I have a basis for really understanding how much bigger the car is. But a quasar next to our solar system next to our Earth? It borders on the abstract. Yes, we’d get a proportional sense of scale, but not a literal understanding of size. We just aren’t equipped to think in those terms: it’s like trying to provide scale for a human by placing an atom next to her. It may be a valid comparison, but it’s inconvenient.

So what path forward for us? Perhaps the size of the earth seems so daunting because it’s abstract. We don’t have catalogs detailing the number of trees, blades of grass, or drops of water. Perhaps once confronted with real numbers, or approximately real numbers, we can better understand change within our environment. While they would remain very large numbers, maybe the fact that they are numbers rather than infinity would make an impression: that this Earth and everything on it, is the only one we have.

I’ve been meaning to document my thesis work, but other matters have been more pressing. Eventually I will create that site, but in the meantime I thought it might be nice to pick out what I consider some highlights from my thesis explorations and present them in my blog. You know, maybe get some people to read them and hopefully comment on them…but more importantly, it would be nice to advance my theories as my own and claim ownership of them by documenting them. With the rate of change we’ve been seeing in the world lately, reality has been steadily overtaking my thesis work, and I’d prefer to say “here’s something cool I thought of” before someone goes out and does it, rather than vice versa.

In the spirit of drawing this process out as long as possible (and so I don’t have to think of new content all the time), I’ll post a section every few days and perhaps add a little commentary to expand on the concepts or talk about any shifts in thinking I might have had over the year.

Let’s begin at the beginning, shall we?

My thesis year at IDII was spent investigating how individuals could make a difference in such a large issue as sustainability. On the one hand we have initiatives to encourage individuals to recycle or carpool. On the other hand in the realm of nation states we have the Kyoto Protocol. A huge gulf separates the two extremes of action. And yet, after reading several compelling books (The Ecology of Commerce and Collapse, among others), and feeling an overwhelming urge to do something, I found myself lacking for direction. The Kyoto Protocol is way beyond my influence, and I already did things like recycling. I wanted to do something more, but what?

In the course of my research, I found that many people felt the same way. They read the same books, had the same realizations, and were full of energy and enthusiasm, yet they found (as did I) that there was no outlet for them. There was no way for them to make meaningful contributions to sustainability.

With this realization, I saw some opportunity to act.

Service design seemed like the best way to go for a couple of reasons: it offers opportunities for involving people in processes and it can promote dematerialization—while working on a thesis about sustainability, it seemed hypocritical to create yet another fancy widget.

My first step in the thesis process was to get my bearings within the land of sustainability and develop some approach vectors which might indicate more promising areas of investigation and development.

First was the realization that sustainability is a murky word because it is a quality, not a thing. You can’t point to sustainability and say “Aha, there it is!” Nor can you pin sustainability down to a specific checklist, because its qualities vary depending on the specific situation. For example, the concept of a “sustainable home” differs between the Sahara and the Arctic: an igloo wouldn’t last two minutes in the Sahara.

By the end of my thesis process, I grew incredibly tired of the word sustainability. While it encompasses a lot of concepts, its murky generality renders it almost a nonsense word. You can talk about sustainability this and sustainability that and in the end have said not much of anything. I also found its use and abuse extremely frustrating. A variety of industries seem to have found sustainability the new buzzword: the sustainable chair, the sustainable this, the sustainable that. Great, it’s sustainable, but what exactly are you doing? Sustainability necessarily encompasses a huge amount of complexity, and to think that “sustainable” can be bestowed upon an object because it’s made from recycled soda bottles is a violent misconception (if I can use that phrase). As Cradle to Cradle points out, that’s merely down-cycling material, not re-envisioning and re-making how we produce, consume, renew, or dispose of things. How can a light-bulb be “more sustainable” when its electricity comes from a coal-fired power plant?

I was struck by the need for massive change (to use Bruce Mau’s terminology), perhaps what one might even call a revolution. I saw a need for revolutionary thought and action, and yet all I saw were incremental, step-wise iterations of existing products, services, and systems. And this struck me as bizarre, because once you see the incredible amount of opportunity for innovation, with the attendant intellectual property, patents, royalties, and so forth, you’d think that companies would be stumbling over each other to innovate, to become leaders in their fields.

My future posts will explore this situation and where I think some of the solutions lie.

Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.

I recently interviewed Anna Lappé for TreeHugger.com, and I wanted to share one of her responses that bears a striking similarity to the above quote from Mahatma Gandhi.

I asked Anna about her suggestions for dealing with the feelings of futility that a lot of people experience when exposed to some of the more daunting problems of our day and age.

I like to remind people that the more apt metaphor for our feelings of futility would be that we feel we’re drops in the desert: the water dissipates before even touching ground.

If we were really to picture ourselves as drops in a bucket, we’d of course realize that buckets fill up, and can fill up quite fast. (Who knows, your drop may be the one that pushes the water over the edge.)

I think it speaks of the gap that appears at times between action and perception: small things can contribute to much larger results, even if their effects are not immediately apparent.

The question, I suppose, is whether making the effects of such small inputs visible will help to change behavior. My sense is that doing so can help, but first the will to change must exist.

Critically, however, just as will must exist before action, the tools for action must be available for use once that will is formed: futility can arise from a sense of powerlessness in the face of large problems, but it can also stem from the lack of clear direction and appropriate tools. That is, I want to change, but I have no idea how.

While much effort is spent convincing people of the problems we face—a necessary task if ever there was one—it is extremely important that we continue to build the tools and platforms to enable change once that will is formed.

I’m trying to do my part.

In Earth is Too Crowded for Utopia, an article on the BBC’s website, Chris Rapley argues that the one issue related to sustainability which nobody wants to discuss is that of population.

I completely agree.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how small the footprint of an individual human is if that footprint is multiplied six billion times. This is related to the point that Jared Diamond raises in Collapse, that people in the Third World are not going to be very happy when they realize that the First World living standards promised to them will never materialize. (It’s just reality, no hard feelings…) It’s not about wanting and having: it’s about physics.

And even if we get to the point where Amory Lovins’ Hypercar concept becomes reality and our objects become hyper-efficient in their use of materials, we’re still dealing with a growing population with an insatiable appetite for the simple things like food and clothing, not to mention the finer things like televisions and cars.

It’s of no small consequence, then, that the US just “celebrated” its 300 millionth citizen. According to the San Francisco Chronicle, the US population has grown 50 percent in the last 40 years, and is poised to reach 400 million by 2040.

Clearly, something needs to change. We can start by recognizing that everything is connected, that the air we breath is also used to power combustion engines. That the water we drink is mixed with laundry detergent. That every time we turn a light on, we contribute to CO~2~ emissions.

But those are simple questions and simple connections. They are not morally fraught. By contrast, issues such as birth control in the US can be highly controversial and are extremely polarized. Most of the time it seems like these “controversial” issues are deadlocked and that they’ll exist in such a state till the end of time. Kind of like how the problems with Social Security will go away if we don’t think too hard about them.

Issues such as population growth will require lengthy rational discussion to resolve. The question is how long we can go on pretending that rising population figures don’t matter. Perhaps it is better to begin to acknowledge and discuss these problems before we reach the point where such civilized activities are no longer possible.

I just attended a conference in New York City where it became immediately apparent to me that I didn’t fit in. Not that it’s a bad thing or a good thing; I simply realized that my priorities and focus over the years have changed significantly. While I enjoy a stimulating conversation as much as the next person, I’ve also developed a point of view which now includes Charles Eames’ observation that “Design is a plan for action.” And I must admit, I didn’t see much in the way of action at this conference. A lot of talk about concepts and theories and definitions, but very little in the way of concrete contributions to a cause.

Maybe I’m biased because my entire thesis year was spent looking for ways to make concrete contributions to a cause. But my observation from this weekend’s events is that a common cause might prove useful in harnessing all of this intellect and creative energy and focusing it towards real change.

Perhaps a step back is required to explain my position. In my first thesis presentation (way back in 2005) I proposed that the challanges posed by the climate crisis hold the potential to unify us towards a common goal, just as the Apollo missions captured the imagination, attention, and enthusiasm of the American people forty years ago. We have an opportunity to define real goals, produce real results, and instill real change. And this opportunity is nothing less than an opportunity to bring meaning to many peoples’ lives.

Now before the two people who read my blog get all upset, I use “meaning” as a framing device for actions and decisions. So just as a larger goal of buying a house would probably frame the choice of whether or not to max out your credit card, the climate crisis (and the other attendant ills that humanity faces as Jared Diamond so comprehensively presents in Collapse) provides a framing device for decisions and actions by both society and individuals.

So let’s talk about something controversial. I think most of the so-called “social networking” stuff out there is suspect. Sure, it’s fine if you want a diversion, it’s fine if you want to make money selling Google adwords, it’s fine as a commercial enterprise. But what has “social networking” really accomplished for society? What is its lasting contribution? How has it helped humanity to take a step forward?

I’m not saying that “social networking” is useless. Rather, I’m saying perhaps the energy behind its current application is misapplied. Look, we have more computing power available to us through the personal computer and the Internet than at any other time in the known history of man, and the best we can do is MySpace?

As I’ve said many times before, we face a multitude of very real problems and we have a very real opportunity to instigate change, to gather and focus human enterprise and enthusiasm towards a compelling, worthwhile, and meaningful goal.

Read the following passage from this Salon.com article, Calculating the global warming catastrophe, and tell me that current “social networking” sites are addressing these very real issues of community…what I would term social sustainability.

The technology we need most badly is the technology of community—the knowledge about how to cooperate to get things done. Our sense of community is in disrepair at least in part because the prosperity that flowed from cheap fossil fuel has allowed us all to become extremely individualized, even hyperindividualized, in ways that, as we only now begin to understand, represent a truly Faustian bargain. We Americans haven’t needed our neighbors for anything important, and hence neighborliness—local solidarity—has disappeared. Our problem now is that there is no way forward, at least if we’re serious about preventing the worst ecological nightmares, that doesn’t involve working together politically to make changes deep enough and rapid enough to matter. A carbon tax would be a very good place to start.

While this passage makes the point that our lack of community has made it difficult to pursue change politically, I think the more important point is the lack of community, period.

Think about that for a moment.

In a time when, theoretically, anyone can contact and connect with anyone else in the world, we are experiencing a lack of community.

Does anyone else find this curious and frustrating?