Climate Change

Last January, I found myself trudging through slush-filled streets, my fingers numb despite gloves, mentally calculating how many more weeks until spring. A bitter wind whipped between Manhattan’s buildings, creating urban wind tunnels that cut straight through my layers. I don’t love winter. It’s certainly my least favourite season. While I grew up in a relatively cold place with an unpleasant winter, I wouldn’t say I’m better adapted to it than anyone else. I do, however, have an appreciation for the seasons and I try to (begrudgingly) enjoy winter just as much as summer.

When most people contemplate technology, their minds immediately conjure sci-fi spectacles: humanoid robots, sentient AI, and interplanetary travel. But technology extends far beyond these futuristic tropes. At its essence, technology represents our methodical manipulation of the environment to serve human needs. Through this fundamental lens, cities themselves emerge as perhaps humanity’s most sophisticated and consequential technological achievement.

If you pay much attention to the mainstream media, you’ve likely heard the phrase “energy transition” thrown around, which alludes to an ongoing global effort to transition away from fossil fuels and move toward so-called “green” energy sources1. As much airtime as this catch-phrase gets, the data reveals a more complex reality about our progress2.

Humans have accomplished remarkable things throughout our history. Yet today, despite these achievements, we appear to be backsliding while the world burns. We face enormous challenges with little evidence of meaningful progress beyond political and corporate greenwashing campaigns designed to keep consumption—“business as usual”—humming along. Van Gogh’s Starry Night

Once upon a time, the US government enforced antitrust legislation. One of the most famous examples of this is the case of Standard Oil, which remains the textbook example of monopoly breakup taught in economics and law schools worldwide. To understand what happened to Standard Oil, we need to take a short walk back in time through history. The year is 1890, and the US Congress is a well-functioning body with rational officials whose brains still function at a high enough level to pass sensible legislation.

Photo by Denys Nevozhai Imagine a technology so destructive that it kills 1.3 million people annually, consumes vast portions of our cities, and contributes significantly to climate change—yet we’ve designed our entire society around it. This isn’t science fiction; it’s the reality of our car-dependent world.

For a long time I was a futurist, and an optimist about technology in general. I agreed with the thesis that technology makes everything better over time. These days, I’m older and (maybe?) wiser, and I’ve become a lot more pessimistic about technology in general. Can our fossil fuel machines save us from the problem created by fossil fuels? 🤔

By 2050, scientists predict there will be more plastic than fish in our oceans by weight. Last month, I found myself wandering around Muji, phone in hand, about to buy yet another kitchen gadget I didn’t need. That moment of consumer autopilot made me question: how much of my consumption actually improves my life versus simply contributing to our ecological crisis?

Yesterday an interesting thing happened, where disenfranchised folks walked right up into the US capitol after Donald Trump told them to do so. They weren’t welcome there, and a few people ended up dead in the scuffles, and a lot of people were mad for a variety of reasons. Where the people who run the USA world meet

Recycling has become a bit of a crutch these days. It’s a way for people to feel good about what they’re doing (“saving the planet”) without changing their behavior. It gives people a free pass on generating waste; it allows them to save face. Mountain of trash generated by my apartment building. Where does it go? No one knows.