In his classic popular science series, "Connections," James Burke looked at how events and people were linked together in unexpected ways. Generally, these events were spread out over centuries and continents (such as how the discovery of a certain kind of slate in Middle Eastern rivers led to the atomic bomb), but in one instance, Burke focused on an event that happened in a matter of minutes.
It happened on a November evening just as people were filing out of their offices in cities along the East Coast. As millions started for home, something that seemed very tiny happened inside a small metal box 400 miles from New York City. Inside that box, two small pieces of metal came into contact. Within twelve minutes, 80,000 square miles of the most densely populated areas of the US and Canada were without power. Thirty million people were affected.
What happened was the closure of a single single back up relay, at a single power station, on the Canadian side of Niagara falls. It wasn't really a "failure," just a miscalibration. The relay tripped because power demand had momentarily spiked on a line leading into Toronto, and when it tripped power was pushed onto another line, causing that line to overload, which pushed still more power down the next line, and so on, creating a cascade that left some people in the dark for more than 13 hours. People hundreds of miles away died because someone at that power plant hadn't properly calibrated that breaker to handle rising demand on the system.
That was in 1965. In some ways the system today is better. In some ways it's much, much worse.
What happened that evening illustrates how systems that are enormously costly and massive, can still be incredibly fragile and subject to the failure of a single part. There's a famous antecedent that John Glenn, moments before he was about to become the first American in orbit, realized that he was sitting on a billion dollars worth of low bids. It's good for a smile, until you realize that what was true for Glenn then is even more true for all of us today.
Whether it's a bridge in Minnesota or body armor in Iraq, we live in a world constructed by low bid. That's not just true for items built by government contract. For decades, business has focused on efficiency, on the elimination of all redundancy, on "right sizing," on "just in time" on "zero inventory." One of the economic indicators we've been trained to look for each month is the measure of labor productivity, the amount of output achieved for each man-hour of input. In the United States, productivity has soared over the last decade, as automation, outsourcing, and just-in-time have worked together to make US workers much much more productive.
Want to know why corporations are able to sit on huge sums of money, but the average worker's pay hasn't increased? It's because they can get by with fewer of us and still get what they need. Not more than they need, of course. Just enough. Corporations have been proudly "cutting the fat." Flexibility and robustness are not the goals for a corporate society that rarely glances beyond the end of the current quarter.
The trouble is, fat does something other than cause unsightly bulges in your favorite outfit. Fat is storage. If bears were to "cut the fat" before heading into hibernation, they'd be really thin -- as in skeletons -- come spring.
There's a familiar fable from Aesop about an industrious ant and a fun-loving grasshopper. All through the good times, the ant toils away, packing food into the larder. While the ant works, the grasshopper goes whistling along, frequently making fun of the hard-working ant. Then the ant sneaks up and slices the lazy bastard's head from it's thorax with one clean... wait, that's not how it goes. It's more like this:
"Why don't you blow off work today and come to the beach?," says Grasshopper.
"I'm putting away food for times when food is short," says Ant, "you should too."
"Screw that" says Grasshopper. "We have plenty of food, and if we ever run short the magic invisible hand of the market will make sure that more appears."
In the story, hard times come -- as they always do -- and Grasshopper's empty hindgut causes him to repent his slug abed ways. The end. Or he might hire Blackwater to shoot Ant and occupy his hill in the name of peace, democracy, and capitalism.
Considering the amount of work we do, we might well sympathize with the ants, but societally, we're grasshoppers. In fact, we've built a whole "Grasshopper Planet" in the name of efficient global business. It's a system that glorifies short-term profit over long term planning. It's a fat-free, no plan for a rainy day, system, and it's supporting six billion grasshoppers. Though you wouldn't know it from looking at American waistlines, globalization has shaved the fat from planet Earth.
Like a metal bridge slowly being eaten away by the passage of water and time, the supports of this system grow more delicate by the day -- on purpose. Competitiveness and fragility have become synonymous.
In 1968, Paul Ehrlich brought together many of the threats then facing society in his book, The Population Bomb. Ehrlich looked at humanity through the lens of the same dynamics that limit the population of deer on a plateau, or the number of fish in a pond. Though the population of human beings has doubled since Ehrlich's book first appeared, no species can expand forever. Sooner or later the population will be controlled, perhaps by choice, and if not then by war or disease. Or famine.
Famine is one of those words that these days only seems to appear in Sunday School and on the early morning commercials run by charities who can't afford a slot in prime time. Thanks to the "Green Revolution" that drastically increased the productivity of farm lands between the 1940s and 1960s, the amount of food produced across the planet is enough to support a population that's grown from three billion to closing on seven since The Population Bomb appeared. When famine occurs, it's usually a demonstration of greed and idiocy (such as that shown in Hubert Sauper's award-winning 2005 film, Darwin's Nightmare in which fish are being exported to Europe and America from a lake surrounded by starving people), rather than a real lack of input to the world food system.
Real famine -- the kind that acts as a check on that ever-growing population, the kind that lays waste to whole regions -- can't occur these days. Not so long as our fat-free, just-in-time, right-sized food distribution system works perfectly.
Oh, and not only does that system have to work perfectly, but the other systems -- the one that supplies oil to the agricultural nations, the one that provides shipping, the political systems -- they all have to work perfectly, as well. All these systems are so intricately intertwined, that tipping a pebble anywhere can start unanticipated avalanches.
Say for example, you decide to put some percentage of corn into the production of ethanol. It sounds like a good idea. There's the possibility of reducing dependence on oil, of reducing greenhouse gases, and of providing a market to corn farmers many of whom are already getting trimmed away by that "fat reduction." Only putting corn into ethanol can limit the amount that's exported and increase the price world wide. And if farmers are encouraged to put more land toward corn, they put less toward wheat and soybeans. So an increase in corn prices can ripple across the food supply, causing an increase elsewhere.
Or say you're newly arrived in the middle class and for the first time you can afford to eat just a little more meat. Meat that puts ten or twenty times the strain on the system as delivering that same food energy in the form of grain. When a lot of people reach this point in a short period, as is happening in parts of Asia, systems that have long provided "enough" start to fall behind.
Or say that the currency used in most of these commodity transactions, the standard by which prices are set, starts to become unstable. Prices for future international trade are no longer predictable, as the factors of weather, pests, supply, and demand are joined by a simple inability to determine what the dollars being delivered in return for grain are really worth.
When things like that happen, countries like Vietnam, Thailand, and Indonesia, which have long exported rice elsewhere, put a ban on exports. Things like that can result in food riots in 37 different countries in the space of a month.
When it comes to the world food supply, it's not one little "box" that's overloading, it's several at the same time. And all this is happening as increasing population is already straining the limits of the system in many countries. The result is a crisis.
In those countries where people spend 15% of their cash on food, a doubling of prices means you get a little grumbling, and some restrictions on how many bags of rice you can buy at the local big box. It also means less available for other things, resulting in an economic slowdown. Every dime that goes into basic foodstuffs, is a dime not being spent elsewhere.
In those countries where people spend 30% of their cash on food, a doubling of prices means real hardship. It means kids go to work instead of getting an education. It means businesses fail and houses are lost. It means that people make the kind of decisions that will echo through generations, limiting their ability to rise above poverty. It means the arrow of economic progress is thrown into reverse.
In those countries where people spend 60% of their money on food, a doubling of prices means that children go hungry. If it goes on long enough, people starve. It means famine. Famine not in midst of plenty, but famine in the midst of "just enough." Only that just enough is just too far away and just too expensive.
Of course, famine is not the end of the chain. This is the fortieth anniversary of The Population Bomb, but from famine can come war, disease, and all those other limiting factors that Erhlich wrote about way back when. All the systems are interconnected, all the systems are fragile, and if we think that the effects of any disaster can be limited to somewhere "over there," we've not just cut the fat, we've cut the sense.
On Grasshopper Planet, every day is just-in-time for collapse.
Update [2008-4-27 17:7:28 by Devilstower]: in the comments, Fatherflot pointed out that much of the Connections series can be viewed on YouTube. Thanks.