A short slice of life

Assume with me, if you will, that life is a fleeting part of the timeline of the cosmos. Moreover, that mankind fills only a short portion of the timeline of life, and that the life of any individual is almost imperceptible within that timeline. It's likely, then, that my life and anything I have to say is very small and perhaps meaningless in this context.

But, if you accept Freud's insight that "...Ontogeny recapitulates Phylogeny..." - them maybe that short life of an individual, any individual, can be a source of learning. We live in interesting times. Throughout most of my life, I have regarded this as a blessing. Of late, those issues and forces that make our times interesting, seem more of a curse to me. Moreover, many of these forces appear poised to come together in ways that will reinforce the scariest elements offered by each.

Science is under attack, as it has often been in the course of history. Any locus of political power can be undermined by true facts widely disseminated - and so various powerful, or would be powerful, individuals constantly "spin" the facts. As mankind's knowledge becomes greater, the wiggle room for the powerful shrinks - "...the truth shall set you free...." if it is commonly understood.

Science also carries an implicit burden. That is, science is of little use without its handmaiden: technology or the application of science. Technology is the use of knowledge to create or do what could not otherwise be: move produce, manufacture tools and machinery, create goods, blow-up enemies. But there is a subtler burden in the sense that science ultimately leads to the evolution of societies and their peoples, which over the course of many steps brings them to a point of dependency on technology.

There are infinitely more people on the face of the earth today than there were 2,000 years ago. I would be willing, however, to take a bet that there are fewer sailors today than 2,000 years ago, who are capable of navigating beyond the sight of land using only the sun and the stars. So, if we lose the navigation technologies of today, would we be able to replace them with methods sailors used 2,000 years ago? And if not, what would happen to us?

Science has taught us many things, some of which we have difficulty absorbing and using. A trivial example is the continuing argument about Evolution in the classroom. But another example, which may be more important because it is more subtle is this: science has proven intelligence in other forms of life apart from man. And at least some of this animal intelligence could be of use to us if better recognized - but that might force us to alter our relationships with nature. The idea of becoming one with nature may not really be a romantic concept - it may be the recognition of our own limitations and the benefit of leveraging all that is around us.

For example, think of herding animals, be they zebras, deer, or fish. Some herding behavior appears more instinctual or programmed, some seems more socially dependent, but in any case it serves many of the same purposes. In fact herds act much like the convoys of WWII and for many of the same reasons. But, did we figure out convoys from herding behavior, or did we have to reinvent the wheel for ourselves?

The United States was once capable of standing with some autonomy in the world. This is not to suggest that we have not been a trading nation from the beginning. Rather, there was a time when sufficient knowledge and natural resources combined in ways that we could have cut off ties from the rest of the world. Moreover, we had no natural enemies save those separated from us by oceans.

As isolationist as we have believed ourselves to be, we have always been an expansionist power. And, while we may not have believed that we were doing so, we have used our combination of knowledge, natural resources, and attendant wealth to further build our power and wealth by extracting resources and production from the rest of the world. We have refused to accept limits set by man or nature. But, as McGeorge Bundy once said: "There is no safety in unlimited technological hubris"

In Northern Minnesota lies what remains of the Mesabi Range. The Mesabi Range is/was the chief deposit of iron ore in the United States. It largely was used up (at least the high quality deposits) during WWII. To say that the Mesabi Range is vast is to employ a term over-used by the press, politicians, and PR clowns. But, if one considers that much of the allied war effort for WWII was based on this deposit, and that it played a major role in the success of the US steel industry (for machinery, buildings, appliances, and transportation) in the many decades leading up to, and immediately after, that war, it should be clear to even a casual reader that "vast" is indeed the term to describe the Mesabi Range.

I owe my knowledge of the Mesabi Range to growing up in Minnesota during the '60s. That was an exciting time; one in which most of us felt more optimism. The town and the era of my origins represents an interesting core sample of sociological and anthropological strata related to the maturing of our country. Computers became real, jet and space flight were rapidly advancing. As a nation we felt our success, and along with that our responsibilities. My home town shared in all of that and more.

The changes in the Mesabi Range were just one deposit in the sediment of our society. Despite its size, the high quality ore eventually played out. Northern Minnesota was (and still is) a poor part of the country. Apart from mining, it is home to lumber & pulpwood operations and tourism. The later consists largely of fishing, taverns and snowmobiles - with at least two of the three being available in any month of the year. The closing of mines was a great hardship for the folks that lived up there. Farming wasn't especially viable, and the weather discouraged most sorts of industry from migrating "...up North..." unless absolutely necessary.

The good scientists at the University of Minnesota were tasked with finding a solution to this problem, knowing that there were widespread deposits of low quality ore. And the scientists responded with something called Taconite. This was all part of our education as good junior citizens of Minnesota, but to be honest, I never learned what the heck Taconite really was or how it was made (I think that it required lots of water and electricity). In essence low quality ore is refined into pellets that are somewhat purer than the ore from which they come. Further, these pellets can be easily used in place of high-grade ore for the manufacture of steel. For our purposes this explanation is sufficient.

As we noted, to survive WWII we developed the herd approach (aka convoys) to safeguard our shipments across the ocean. And both the ships, and the non-human cargo that they carried played a major role in depleting the Mesabi Range, and therefore the eventual development of Taconite.

It should be noted that the Taconite business seems to be largely gone - its no longer a cost-effective way to make steel. Now days we buy foreign steel or repurpose old steel. But for a while, science and technology offered the promise that Mesabi Range would keep functioning long after its good ore was gone.

The place I grew up was a suburb of the twin cities. It was a railroad town, but by the time I was born it had no passenger service and there were only a limited number of freight trains that went through. The "train station" was intact and seemed to be well maintained but it wasn't any longer staffed.

Our town went through its share of ups and downs, like many Midwest towns that rode on the larger trends of commerce, industry and the economy. Like the rest of the country, my town endured and grew through the Gilded Era, WWI, the roaring-twenties, the depression, WWII, my eventual birth, and so on.

Many years ago, a street car line ran from St. Paul to the far eastern end of the lake where there was an amusement park. Over time, first electric service and then gas came to the town. I can remember when the gas lines were laid in my neighborhood, but the street car and amusement park were gone before my time. Several boat yards succeeded along the lake front, and though the business was about to die, two of them still made wooden boats by hand when I was growing up. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to visit and tour both of them.

At its core, however, it combined tourism with being the commercial hub of an agricultural area that helped support the twin cities. Our town was unique in some interesting ways. It was located on a large and attractive lake - and early on developed a reputation as a place to "summer." The well-to-do came not only from the Twin-Cities, but also Milwaukee, Chicago, and other Midwestern cities, to enjoy life on the lake front.

Eventually, two areas predominated for these summer homes. There was a large island, one tip of which connected via short wooden bridge to the Western shore. My uncle had his first summer job there on an estate belonging to the Weyerhaeuser’s. His job was to dig up dandelions. He would start at one end of the lawn, and by the time he was done, it was time to start at the beginning again. Later, he moved up to caddying at the "Yacht Club" (where he recounts listening to the announcement of Lindy’s arrival in Paris over a loud speaker) located on the North shore of the lake - the other posh part of town.

The scale of these (as they were known) cottages was impressive. I remember one that had been offered for sale, it’s sign advertising 10 bedrooms and 7 bathes. On the island, the original cottages didn't have kitchens. This was not a sign of frugality. Instead, there was a communal kitchen where the staff would cook meals without heating up the owners' homes. Eventually, the central kitchen disappeared, and the cottages became year-around homes with all the amenities.

By the '60s, many of these homes (especially on the Northshore) were white elephants. People didn't want to pay for the heat and taxes - and consequently they were hard to sell. What had been mere summer cottages at one time became too extravagant for use as year-round homes.

Along with prohibition and the depression came the rise of criminal gangs. While they hadn’t been active in my town, it was a place where criminal leaders went to "chill" when the "heat" was on back in Chicago. They had their local spots including a nightclub on the Southwest corner of the lake.

My Grandfather (who was originally a harness-maker) ran a shoe repair shop. One day, a large limo pulled up in front and several people got out. I'm not sure exactly what he was thinking, but he felt it prudent to send my mother out the back door and on her way home. The visit turned out to be peaceful - one of the dancers at the club had broken the heel off or her shoe and needed repairs.

My town had a broad variety of religion, as long as it was Christian. We had Catholics, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans, and Baptists. And in hindsight, by their churches, one could tell who had the money. We had a growing, but still close community. Our version of a minority was someone of French-Canadian ancestry. Given that we had neighboring towns named Little Canada, and Vadnais Heights, the French-Canadian presence was strong.

I had one friend in my first years of school who was French-Canadian: Gordon LaBell. He wasn't much different from the rest of us, although he probably had more "woods sense". My mother seemed to think that he was OK, but I had the impression that she didn't approve of how the women in his family had pierced ears, and that this extended down to little girls. It had to be a moment of emancipation when my mother finally had her own ears pierced.

In my youth, the South side of town was beginning to be developed into suburbs, with neat grids of streets and rows of ranch and split-level homes. The area always felt a bit off to me. Today I realize that this was because it didn't have any trees. It was a source of growth, however, and by the time I reached High School our town's population was over 25,000.

Life was simpler than, as in much of the country. The Junior (ex-Senior) High was located on what had once been the grounds for the County Fair. One of the Fair Buildings remained: the Hippodrome. This was a large drafty building in which the floor was flooded with water for skating during the winter. It was better than skating outside on a dark cold night - but still plenty chilly. On the far side of the building were some sheets for curling, in the center was ice for hockey or free-skating. At one end was a simple room with benches and heat. As I recall, Friday and Saturday nights were popular for the Junior and Senior HS crowd.

Through all of these snippets, we’ve seen examples of technology, and its delivery, changing the course of life and society. My grandfather changed from harness maker (a high-status, high-economic-value profession) to shoe repair man (low-status and low-economic-value profession) because the gasoline engine came of age and replaced horses. The railroads helped develop my town, and then died away. The world became smaller when Lindberg crossed the Atlantic. And, technology was used to overcome the depletion of high-quality iron ore, for a time.

Today, the town where I was born cannot function without natural gas pipelines, electrical lines, automobiles and trucks. It doesn’t need horses, the farming is gone, and the train line is unimportant to the town. While there is some local manufacturing, even with the surrounding area, this town doesn’t come close to being able to be self-sufficient for its residents. It is a the end result of scaling and the global economy.

But, today, large and grand homes are no longer white elephants. Buyers in prosperous parts of the country seem to be competing for who can acquire the biggest, fanciest home. Modern residential architecture has evolved to Gablitis – which is the unnatural development of excessive gables on a home. Homes sometimes have gables stacked 3 and 4 deep on the front of a home and as many across – in a vain attempt to be distinctive.

Growing up, my parents never had air-conditioning, color-television, or cars with electric windows until they were in their 50s (about 25 years ago). This was true despite their being relatively prosperous and not ascetic or parsimonious. Today, the percentage of new cars sold without electric windows or the percentage of new homes sold without air conditioning must surely be in single digits. Some of this change is due to improved efficiencies in industrial and manufacturing processes. Some of this change is due to better leveraging the global economy (that is, paying someone in China or Malaysia starvation wages to produce our goods). Some of it comes the growing set of expectations that emerges from each new generation in our society. But these changes take our people, our communities, and our country further and further away from the possibility of being self-sufficient.

There was a time when we considered self-sufficiency a key strategy for the security and protection of our nation. A combination of poor quality in the auto industry and enticingly priced import goods have caused us to forget this strategy. Who would settle for a black & white TV made in the states when they could have a color model from China for the same price or less? But then, who wants to be dominated by China, either?