Category: books

Yes nukes, fast trains, and no oil

A few years ago, while on vacation in Costa Rica, I read George Monbiot’s Heat: How to Stop the Planet from Burning. While I don’t recommend it as vacation reading, it was interesting. The premise was how Britain (as example country) could reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by 90%, yet still maintain a decent standard of living.

I thought he had a number of good ideas, but one I didn’t agree with was his dismissal of nuclear power as one option. He struggled with it, and the fact that it produces no greenhouse gas emissions, but finally concluded he couldn’t live with the waste disposal issue. But I thought the issue was global warming?

So I was kind of pleased to see the very lefty This Magazine coming around to that same point of view. While they sadly haven’t made the whole article available online, you can get the gist from the cover: “Wind and solar can’t save us from climate change. Like it or not, nuclear power can.”

The Walrus’ “Off the Rails” focused on the sad state of train travel in Canada. Though I thought I basically knew the score here, I was surprised to learn that Canada did have high-speed trains; it just never had the infrastructure to actually run them at their maximum speeds. And also, that the US actually has some high-speed trains (Boston to Washington). And that they’re thinking of adding more—that might even connect to Canada! Toronto to New York by train, anyone? That would be awesome!

Pretty struck, too, by the graph of greenhouse gas emissions, per passenger, for train, plane, and automobile. First two—not as different as I thought. Last one—much better than I thought. (Too bad the graph is not in the online version of the article. Guess they need to give you some reason to buy the paper version.)

But most striking, for sure, was The Walrus article called “An Inconvenient Talk”. Which basically argues that, way before global warming becomes a crisis, we’re going to run out of oil. And that will be a crisis.

OK, sure, not the first time we’ve heard about this “running out of easy oil” point. But Chris Turner is a very good writer:

Here’s the upshot: if you plan to drive a car or heat a house or light a room in 2030, The Talk is telling you your options will be limited, to say the least. Even if you’re convinced climate change is UN-sponsored hysteria or every last puff of greenhouse gas will soon be buried forever a mile underground or ducks look their best choking on tar sands tailings, Dave Hughes is saying your way of life is over. Not because of the clouds of smoke, you understand, but because we’re running out of what makes them.

And he focuses on a pretty convincing subject in the form of Dave Hughes, whose life mission is now to inform people about this problem looming all too soon. (10-20 years, he says.)

And, Turner boosts this with views from others. Like the IEA:

As recently as 2005, well into Dave’s second career as a peak-hydrocarbon prophet, the executive director of the International Energy Agency (IEA) — probably the most trusted name in fossil fuel reserve prediction — was dismissing peak oil’s proponents as “doomsayers.” Mainstream media coverage, meanwhile, tended to focus on the hard-core survivalist subculture the science had inspired.

Two weeks after you ride along with Dave Hughes for Talk No. 155, though, the IEA releases the latest edition of its annual World Energy Outlook, which predicts a global oil production peak or plateau by 2030. In a video that appears online soon after, the Guardian’s George Monbiot [him again] requests a more precise figure from the IEA’s chief economist, Fatih Birol. The official estimate, he confesses, is 2020. Monbiot also inquires as to the motivation for the IEA’s sudden about-face, and Birol explains dryly that previous studies were “mainly an assumption.” That is, the 2008 version was the first in which the IEA actually examined hard data, wellhead by wellhead, from the world’s 800 largest oil fields. Monbiot asks, with understandable incredulity, how it was that such a survey hadn’t been conducted previously. Birol’s response: “In fact, nobody has done that research. And the research we have done this year is the first in the world…”

And from Alberta oil patch executives:

He calls the $150-a-barrel price shock of last summer “just a prelude.” “People take it for granted,” he told you, “that they can go to the gas station and fill it up. I don’t think in two or three years that’s something you’ll be able to take for granted. I really don’t.”

And as you read all this, you keep thinking to yourself what Chris Turner keeps saying you are thinking to yourself: “This can’t be right…”

Addition from the perspective of 2024: I don’t, in fact, think the projections that we’d be more less running out of oil by now have proven to be correct… (Unfortunately, I guess.)

A rock’n’roll odyssey

The Record will be publishing another Letter to the Editor from me sometime next week. Not about politics, but in response to a book  review they published.

The book reviewed was X-Ray by Ray Davies of The Kinks. The review wasn’t terribly positive, but that wasn’t really my issue. It’s that the whole thing was littered with factual errors—names, who played what instrument, musical genres of particular songs. And that the book was finally dismissed as just another “sex and drugs” rock’n’roll memoir.

Even leaving aside that there isn’t that much sex and drugs, really (Ray was never a drug addict and isn’t that open about his sex life), the style of this bio is really unusual. To quote the Amazon description:

In this unique “unauthorized autobiography,” Kinks singer and songwriter Davies casts himself as an eccentric old man some 20 years hence who is asked to tell his life story to a young interviewer working for a world-ruling conglomerate called “The Corporation.” Eventually, the Orwellian subplot is overshadowed by Davies’s very personal account of his band’s many rises and falls.

So I really thought, man, this reviewer didn’t even bother to read the book.

So then I wrote a really mean letter about that, and sent it to both the letters page and the Book Page editor.

I heard back from the latter, saying that, you know, I’d like to print this, but you can’t go around accusing reviewers of not reading the books. And also, the letter is too long. (My letters to the editor are always too long.)

So I rewrote it, now stating that the book had not been read very carefully—but still pointing out some of the factual errors (in what was a really, really short book review), and my view that whatever flaws the book has, lack of originality isn’t one of them.

Whereupon it was accepted for publication. Of course, these things get published under one’s real name. And I started thinking, huh, this is kind of a small town, and boy, would it be awkward if I ever ran into the book reviewer at a party, or something.

Then the Book Page editor contacted me again, with a message from the book reviewer, who really wants to talk to me! So we can “discuss rock’n’roll”. Oh, boy.

Of course, I’m not really up for that. But I am in the phone book… Perhaps it’s time to invest in Call Display. 🙂

Dolls, Mad Men, and the US election

So I just finished Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls. It’s a novel about three beautiful women who all become rich and famous—but not without being victimized, betrayed by love, and addicted to valium (sedatives, the “dolls” of the title). It’s an addictive read, and while certainly not literary, I was left pondering just what the message was supposed to be here.

The novel is set between 1945 and 1965, or so, and the portrayal of women is something to behold. Like the assumption, throughout the novel, that a woman should quit her job—no matter how fabulous—the minute marriage or even just engagement is on the horizon. Pile on the more dramatic horrors of involuntary incarceration in a mental institution and choosing suicide over the potential loss of fabulous breasts to cancer, and you’re left feeling rather glad to be living in these times.

One gets a similar sense from the much-hyped TV series Mad Men, set in 1960. One character, Peggy, becomes the first “since the War” to do any copy-writing for the Stirling-Cooper ad agency feature. “It’s like watching a dog play piano” says one of the men, of Peggy’s writing abilities.

The most recent episode I watched focused on the Nixon-Kennedy election. The firm—which the creator notes is a “dinosaur”, destined to be rocked by the changes of the times, not participating in them—is backing Nixon. And having to accept that their man has been bested by the young, charismatic Senator from Massachusetts.

And here we are, with the year’s US election, and the old man of the Republican Party figures his best chance of defeating the young, charismatic Senator for Illinois is to put a young, dynamic woman on his ticket.

Good thing she didn’t quit her job when she got married.

Living the 100-mile diet… At least for one meal

The “One Book, One Community” choice for Waterloo region this year is “The 100-Mile Diet”, an account of a BC couple’s attempt to restrict their diet to food produced within 100 miles of their home, for one year. In that spirit was the Region of Waterloo Chef Association President’s Dinner, in celebration of Earth Day. By combining with Foodlink Waterloo Region, they wanted to show that even in April, when local produce options are limited at best, a fine meal was possible.

The evening began with a “Champagne reception”, featuring a nice, Inniskillin sparkling wine. Jean and I debated how “environmental” our presence at this event was—certainly it supported the producers and the idea; on the other hand, we did drive there.

Issue unresolved, we found that seating was in tables at eight, so we randomly selected one that had two spots available. While at first it looked like everyone was only going to talk to those they already knew, a gentleman from Wellesley suggested we all introduce each other, and things got rolling.

It was an interesting group. One couple owned Lyndon Fish Hatcheries—and also happened to have 10 children. The main focus of their business is growing fish to feed other fish hatcheries, but they do a small sideline in smoked arctic char. More on that later. They were there with another couple. He worked for Laidlaw and was frequently consulting his Blackberry; apparently he frequently had to fly out to various offices on short notice. But he wasn’t the type you’re probably picturing now from that description—he was much more down to earth.

The Wellesley couple owned a small food shop in that town. She was noticeably younger than him, with a thick Ukranian accent, but they’d met in New York City. Apparently he decided on the first day that they’d end up married, and proceeded to woo. She expressed perfect satisfaction with life in Wellesley, despite spending her teenage years in Manhattan.

So amid the lively conversation, we got some pretty nice food. First course (earth) was a nice celeriac and potato soup. Second course (water) proved the highlight—the smoked char on greens and tomatoes (greenhouse, if you’re wondering about that one), with a side of brie. Great fish! And we had it first hand that it had all been smoked the night before. Third course (air) featured pheasant and chicken. Then there was a lovely sorbet of apple and chardonnay from the Breadalbane Inn (which I think we need to try). Fourth course (land) was black Angus filet mignon, potatoes, and green beans (definitely a surprise this time of year). Dessert was a nice trio of tiny crepes with apple butter, delicious double brie ice cream, and equally delicious maple syrup tart.

Despite a few moans and groans, everyone at the table seemed to manage to eat everything. Oh, and there were also wine pairings: a nice white meritage from Jackson-Triggs, a good Pinot from Inniskillin, and a bigger red—Cabernet?—to go with the beef.

The evening ended with an auction for a personal chef’s dinner (we dropped out after the first price point) and some door prizes, one of which we won! Dinner for four at Conestega College. All in all a good evening out, whether or not the earth thanks us for it.