Many people regard capitalism as a necessary evil, and all
but the most Darwinian will admit that it is a flawed system. It is a great
system for maximizing productivity as it efficiently balances supply and
demand. It is a terrible system for fairness. Yes, it rewards those who are
enterprising and productive – but it fails to recognize that nobody starts on
an equal footing and fails to recognize that the free market, when unmitigated
by society, encourages exploitation of the weak. It is also very poor at giving
value to things we have common ownership of, such as air (free-market
capitalism is not going to end pollution) and fish (over-fishing has caused
fish populations to crash in many parts of the ocean). A major reason we
continue to accept it is we don’t seem to have good alternatives. If nothing
else, capitalism is functional because it factors in human greed and harnesses
it. Economic systems based on selflessness (i.e. communism) have not lasted in
our historical experience.
There
are many arguments that can be made against capitalism on moral and humanistic
grounds. These should be sufficient to cause us to rethink the validity of our
economic system and, at the very least, take efforts to mitigate its negative
aspects. Still, these arguments have not sufficed to get us to abandon the
status quo. What if, however, capitalism is fundamentally flawed from a
technical/scientific/economic point of view?
The
core assumption that lies behind our economic systems is that productivity is
good and should be rewarded. On the micro scale, that is hard to argue with.
The farmer who works harder and smarter to produce more crops deserves to be
rewarded for his labors because he feeds more people. When we take a look at a
larger scale, we find that productivity is a double-edged sword. Producing more
raises our standards of living, but for productivity to be sustained there
needs to be a culture of consumerism. If too many farmers produce too much
food, we either all become gluttons or we waste a lot of what we produce.
Capitalism’s answer is diversification of products – create new types of jobs
and turn the excess famers into carpenters and potters. However, on an even
larger scale, we run into the final problem – at some point, the world is going
to run out of resources for us to produce stuff with.
Far-fetched,
you say? We have actually faced this at least once before. Before WWII, there
were predictions in the scientific community that the world was going to face
widespread famine because there simply wasn’t enough farmland to feed the
rapidly growing population. There would be a population crash based on the lack
of food alone, not to mention war and social unrest. Then, we invented
fertilizer, which greatly increased crop yields, averting disaster. Or perhaps
merely postponing it? The problem of human consumption is a moral problem that
does not have a final technical answer. In science fiction, we often think of
expanding to the stars as the answer to the limits of Earth’s finite resources.
This assumes two things:
1.That faster-than-light travel is possible (if we
are to have realistic hope of transferring a significant fraction of Earth’s
population out of the solar system).
2.That we will discover the solution on time.
And, at the end of the day, do we plan on ravaging planet
after planet to satisfy our material desires?
Because we are so disconnected
today from the resources we use, we don’t realize the finitude of what we have
available to us. We are not running out of metals or lumber anytime soon. We
even have enough fossil fuels to last a few generations (even though it is
going to get a lot more expensive to extract – we have plucked much of the “low-hanging
fruit;” also, we’ll be burning a lot more coal, which has significant health
effects). Water shortages are largely localized events, though occurring on a
more and more common basis (a very small fraction of your water consumption is
reflected in your water bill; the jeans you are wearing took 5,700 L of water
to make). We are, however, putting a large strain on the Earth’s ecology, and
we break that at our own risk. The risks of exposing ourselves to new diseases,
the risk of affecting climates – local and global, and the risks of causing
various species populations to crash (which affects us a lot more than we think
– but it would take me too long to articulate how).
I don’t have a doomsday scenario
(though that doesn’t mean one cannot exist – the world is too complicated to
determine a “tipping point” that would wipe us out with accuracy). More of a
pot of slowly heating water, and we are the frogs. Living in a city near
congestion reduces your lifespan by a year-and-a-half due to respiratory issues.
Most cancers are caused by environmental factors – we have genetic
predispositions, but cancer has environmental triggers. I could go on and on.
We live in a closed system (yes, we
get energy from the sun, but bear with me) with finite resources and a finite
capability for taking care of our waste. Our economics – our consumption
behavior needs to take that into account, or it is fundamentally flawed. The
idea of everlasting economic growth, that growth is necessary and good, is a
fallacy (there are many parts of the world that need higher standards of
living; those of us who are already well-off, and if you are reading this you
are well-off enough to consider downward-mobility). Science is only going to
come to our rescue so many times. Shifting our economies to be more service
reliant rather than product-driven can help, but doesn’t deal with the root
problems. We are greedy and are removed from the effects of our greed:
exploitation of people and our world. The problem is not a scientific one. And does not have a technical solution.
You know, there are times when you are simply cruising forward and everything is going smoothly. And in less than a tenth of a second, your world flips over on itself. And before you know what is going on and have time to adjust you hit the ground hard. And then your bike lands on you.
Yes. I flipped over the handlebars of my bike. Got something stuck on my front tire that was making a squeaking sound. Decided to kick it off. Bad decision. Stupid me. Ended up getting my foot stuck in the front tire, bringing the bike to a halt, and flipped my bike over. Launched myself forward, landing on the heels of my palms (about the best way I could have landed). Bike landed on my legs. Came out of the whole thing with hardly a scratch - the major casualty was the headlamp on my bike. Have a few bruises and a couple sore spots, but nothing more.
A strange thing to note: during and after the crash, I had no adrenaline rush. Right after the crash, I systematically checked my body, my phone, my bike, and my laptop and found all in working order. I arranged for a ride back (didn't want to ride the bike until I had it checked at a shop) and checked my pulse. Dead normal. The closest thing I have had to a near-death experience since I had a snake in my house and I can't get a physiological reaction out of my body.
I'm just thankful though that I am in one piece. I ought to be in a lot worse shape. God watches over babes and fools. I may be a grad student, but I'm certainly in the latter category. Especially in the latter category.
I've had quite a few questions on what the graduate student life is like. The comic strip I referred to in my previous post puts it so much better than I can, but here's my shot at it anyway: the comparisons and contrasts between undergrad and grad life. At least in the sciences; I hear things are a little different in the humanities.
Classes don't matter anymore. Really. That CGPA thing that undergrads worry about all the time? When you are a graduate student, nobody is going to ask what grade point average you had (disclaimer: the one exception is if your funding is somehow tied to your grades, like mine is). Whether you just pass or get an A...it's mostly feeding your ego. Real accomplishment and achievement in graduate school (especially the PhD route) is tied to success in research.
Everyone asks what you are doing. Nobody understands. When I was in undergrad, a lot of people didn't know exactly what chemical engineers do, but I could explain it in one or two simple sentences. Now, when I say that I am studying "fate and transport of organic chemicals in engineered and environmental systems," most people go completely blank and wonder if this has anything to do with organic farming. Many others are surprised that I'm not working with renewable energy (by the way, that's sustainability in engineering, but really a mechanical/electrical engineering field). The sad thing is my explanation of what I do (fate and transport) is already a broad and gross oversimplification. What do I really do? I'm not sure myself. I'll let you know when I figure it out. Maybe about the time I submit my thesis.
The source of motivation for graduate students is very different from that of undergraduate students. As an undergraduate student, one is motivated to finish homework and study for exams. There is a clear measure of accomplishment and concrete goals to reach. For graduate students, work is never ever finished - which takes away some of the motivation to do it. Furthermore, accomplishments are usually months or years into the future. Grad students are either motivated by a love for what they are studying (ideally) or the fear of looking stupid/not having any work to show at the next adviser meeting/research group meeting/seminar presentation.
Graduate students bike. All of them. If someone is wearing a bicycle helmet, odds are 10 to 1 that he or she is a graduate student. Maybe undergraduate students are worried about things like helmet hair; graduate students have long since realized that physical appearances only matter at conference presentations. Whatever the reason, graduate students bike. Or undergraduates who are going to graduate school.
There is more, but these are the highlights for now. Will add more if/when I think of it.
For those of you who wonder what a graduate student's life is like, look no further: http://www.phdcomics.com. It explains everything from the research process and getting funding to why graduate students ride bicycles and how many flavors of instant noodles exist. Personal reflections on the graduate life to come soon, but this comic strip expresses more than I know how to say.
P.S. Advisers are really not as bad as the strip makes out - but the comic's depiction of graduate student's reactions to their advisers hits the nail on the head! And yes, we grad students really have no idea what we are doing. Ever.
Dear diary, I biked home today in Minneapolis' (very credible) imitation of a tropical rainstorm. It wasn't raining quite hard enough, was much colder, and I think I felt little pieces of ice mixed in with the rain. But, for sheer volume, it's one of the heavier storms I have seen in the States. Looks like repeat weather for the next few days.
It was actually rather refreshing to be in the rain, after sitting through classes and labs most of the day. There is something impressive about being in the middle of the original water treatment and water distribution system, seeing it's capability to purify and move water in ways we still can't match. And of course, the feeling of raindrops on your face and the breeze, and the smell of fresh ozone...beautiful. At least, beautiful when you know you can get back indoors, have a hot shower, and prepare a hot meal for later.
Time to eat. And then, to ponder how to fix the broken fitting on the ozone generator.