Author Archive

The Climate Gap

If you’ve spent any time looking into climate change, you’ve heard a lot about emissions. Climate change is fueled by our emissions of greenhouse gasses and we must reduce our emissions to avoid disaster. Disaster is usually spelled out in some degrees of warming, usually 1.5˚C or 2.0˚C. In order to avoid this disaster, we are given two actionable items:

  1. As individuals, we must reduce our personal emissions. We need to put solar on our homes, buy electric cars, get rid of our gas appliances, etc.

  2. Collectively as the world, we must re-engineer our industry and means of production to reduce emissions by the gigaton.

You might even be familiar with a graph that looks something like this:

Graph: CO2 reductions needed to keep global temperature rise below 2˚C

It doesn’t take much critical thinking to realize something pretty quickly: none of those projected curves are actually going to happen. We haven’t even started pointing the graph downwards yet. We will not decarbonize the entire world in a few decades.

So — okay. We aren’t going to limit warming to 2˚C by reducing emissions. What are our options? The next thing you’ll hear is carbon capture and carbon sequestration. Plant more trees, install CCS (Carbon Capture and Storage) devices on natural gas plants, build DAC (Direct Air Capture) machines to suck CO2 out of the air. We’ll create a negative component to the chart that adds a possibility for positive emissions to be balanced by the negative emissions of carbon removal — reaching something we call net-zero emissions.

Unfortunately, planting more trees and other natural sequestration solutions aren’t a path out of this. At best, that sequestration happens once. If we reforest a region and it sequesters a few gigatons of CO2, that forest doesn’t keep regrowing year after year — it is a one time offset. At worst… how much carbon does a forest sequester once it’s burned down? We need a way to capture and sequester emissions on an ongoing basis. That means CCS and DAC.

Across the globe in 2020, we captured and stored 0.000009 gigatons of C02 with DAC and 0.04 gigatons of C02 with CCS. In order to capture half of our current emissions, we’d need to be capturing around 20 gigatons per year, or 500 times our current CCS capacity and 22 million times our current DAC capacity. But this is only part of the story — the vast majority of that captured carbon was used for EOR (Enhanced Oil Recovery). In other words: the only realistic implementation of carbon removal so far is to extract fossil fuels that would have otherwise been unprofitable to extract. I wouldn’t call that negative emissions.

It’s pretty clear that carbon capture and sequestration on the scale required to limit warming to 2˚C isn’t going to happen.

The Cure is Also the Problem

Reducing our current emissions to zero is only half the struggle. We also need to find a way to compensate for the emissions needed to get to that decarbonized future.

We all agree that we need to replace our gas powered cars with electric cars, replace our coal energy plants with nuclear and renewables, and so on and so forth. But building electric cars, nuclear power plants, and solar panels emits CO2 in the process. Electric cars require batteries that use materials mined with diesel tractors. Nuclear power plants are made of an incomprehensible quantity of concrete. Solar panels require aluminum that must be smelted from ore. This list goes on and on. It’s going to require an incredible amount of emissions to build the infrastructure we need to reduce emissions.

At the same time, all around the world people are escaping poverty, moving into the middle class, and generally improving their standard of life. That means more apartment complexes, more iPhones, and more foam mattresses. All of which cost emissions to make.

We cannot ethically or reasonably deny these things to the developing world. Thanks for letting us burn fossil fuels to get where we are! Now you need to lift yourself up without creating any more emissions — that good? The idea is unconscionable and counter-productive. If we want to solve the emissions problem, we’re going to need the cooperation of the entire world. Subjugating the majority of the world’s population into poverty isn’t going to cut it.

Fuck

We aren’t going to limit warming to 2.0˚C through emissions reduction, and there isn’t a credible reason to believe we have a path to reduce emissions at all over the next few decades. The gap between what is necessary and what is feasible is so large as to be effectively meaningless.

Do you know how many footsteps it would take to walk from the Earth to the Moon? Would having that answer get you any closer to the moon? That’s the kind of gap we’re talking about. We are talking about an entire restructuring of the world’s governments, industry, financial systems, agriculture, transportation networks, and every single human’s way of life. Oh — and the complete dismantling of every country’s war machine. It’s not worth investigating because there is no way it will happen in time to prevent warming in the way our charts imagine, just as you will not be walking from the Earth to the Moon no matter how many footsteps it measures out to be.

Fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Paradigm Shift

The above conclusion can be pretty depressing. Doesn’t that mean the world is ending? No. It’s not. But our current paradigm surrounding climate change is in need of serious repair. I’m often reminded of something an old rancher once told me when I was trying to figure out how to fix the dirt road to my off grid property: sure you can fix the road, or you can just buy a bigger truck.

Reducing emissions is incredibly important. We have to find a way to decarbonize our way of life if we want to life comfortably on this planet. But we aren’t going to combat climate change in a meaningful and timely way focusing on emissions. We need a solution to the emissions problem, but it isn’t going to be our answer to climate change. Not in this century.

Once I freed myself from this obsession of solving an unsolvable problem, I realized that the emissions paradigm had been an immense burden. How can it not? The only effective way to reduce your emissions to zero is to cease being. The only way to reduce our world’s emissions to zero is through world wide revolution toward…. something else we only have faint ideas about? What’s worse — this obsession with emissions blinded me from possible solutions. If we take it as fact that emissions will continue to rise over the next hundred years, what are our options? What’s our bigger truck version of combating climate change?

We have to break out of our current paradigm.

Resilience and Mitigation

I believe our most viable tools in combating climate change revolve around resilience and mitigation.

Resilience is adapting our infrastructure to live in a world of changed climate. It means building houses that suffer floods and wildfire undamaged. It means neighborhoods built so that neighbors can support each other. It means levees seven stories high and tractors that work in deep mud. It means energy systems that continue to function even as the grid fails, purification systems for contaminated water sources, and air handling systems designed for toxic air.

Mitigation is a different thing. It means reducing warming even as emissions rise. It means solar geoengineering, cloud seeding, and a variety of other incredibly uncomfortable ideas. It’s scary and full of terrible outcomes. But I believe it’s a necessary and inevitable step to buy us time while we work on the emissions problem. Inevitable because solar geoengineering isn’t that expensive and most companies / countries have the means to start a project. Rogue geoengineering will absolutely be a thing. It’d be nice if it wasn’t rogue.

These are no small tasks. We’ll need to change the way we think about housing, transportation, land ownership, food, energy, and what “the environment” means just to live in the world that exists today. But these ideas are far more approachable than avoiding climate change with emissions. I can imagine a house built to survive a wildfire. I cannot imagine every single government, industry, and human on earth voluntarily changing their way of existence in order to to reduce emissions to zero, then negative.


I’ll say it again: reducing emissions is incredibly important. We have many viable paths to do this! We just don’t have any paths that work on our given timeline. So I look at emissions as a research project — probably the most important research project of our generation. We have to decarbonize our way of life. We have to build an industry of carbon removal. We have to remember that every pound of CO2 we fail to emit is one pound less to be removed in the future. Paving a path toward solving the emissions problem will be our gift to the children of 2150.

So I’ll keep my subscriptions to Climeworks and Tradewater to buy back the carbon I emit. I’ll invest in Regenerative Agriculture and novel uses of farmland. I’ll continue giving to Carbon 180, Clean Air Task Force, Cool Earth Action, Project Drawdown, Protect Our Winters, Sierra Club, Trees for the Future, and other emissions focused organizations. I’m not giving up on the most important research project of our lifetime.

But I’m not going to pretend this will have any effect on the challenges of my generation, or even the next. It means I’m going to tell you that the important part of my new house isn’t the electrified induction cooktop — it’s the HEPA filter and backup batteries. And I might even fly on an airplane or three and find joy in life without measuring every gram of carbon I emit.

Our way forward is through a changed climate. We can’t keep pretending there is some mythical singularity at 2˚C we can prevent with emissions control. We already live in a changed climate. It’s time we acted as though reality is real.


The Old Log Cabin

For those of you who don’t know, I own an old high elevation cow camp in the Sierra Nevadas with my friend David. It’s home to a 99 year old hand-hewn log cabin, a chainsaw milled post & beam horse barn, and a few smaller bunk houses. It’s been a source of great joy and fulfillment over the years. We call it Leaping Daisy, or sometimes just The Ranch.

The Cabin in Winter

Now for the sad part: the rancher who grazes cattle around the ranch called yesterday, and let me know the old cabin and all the bunk houses burned down in the Caldor Fire.

The Cabin's Remains

Jessica and I have put a lot of work into the cabin the past couple of years — it was a particularly good escape from the beginning months of the coronavirus lockdown. We cleaned it up, fixed the plumbing, replaced the chinking, put a fresh coat of stain on the old logs, and very nearly removed the resident mice.

We may have owned the cabin, but it wasn’t really ours. It was a relic from the Old West, a place where the cowboys would come after a long day of rounding up cattle, start a fire in the wood stove, and fry up some chicken for dinner. It was a building that invited stories and encouraged the imagination. What did this place look like in 1922 when they cleared the land and built the cabin? What kinds of tools did they use? How did Bungie lift those roof rafters by himself when he replaced the roof at the age of 65?

Dog Spirals in Winter

It’s sad, but it isn’t tragic — this is what living in the mountains means. To choose to live in the mountains means you choose to live in the midst of powers far beyond your control. It means preparing for the weather, respecting the terrain, wrapping your arms around trees five feet in diameter, and climbing boulders bigger than houses. And it also means living with wildfire. There is no fire-free option for our forests. We burn them, or we watch them burn. This time we watched them burn.

Jess in the Hammock in front  of the bath house

I’m grateful for all the memories we made at the old cabin, and I’m glad so many of you were able to experience it while it was still around. Its story is finished. A hundred years ago someone cleared the forest to build a cabin, and yesterday the forest took it back.

This is hardly the end for Leaping Daisy. For now, the old barn still stands, the UTV sits safely in its shed, and the solar shed is still up and running and providing WiFi for the embers. The underbrush has burned away and many healthy trees remain standing. The forest is resilient.

The Barn amoungst embers

The joy of the ranch has never been in the having — it’s been in the doing. There’s a little less to have now, but there’s still plenty to do. We’ll have to buy some new chainsaws and dig a new outhouse. Then maybe we can get started on something to inspire stories for the years to come.

Wildflowers in the meadow


There is something else.

Fire is a big subject in California. We don’t have hurricanes, we don’t have tornadoes, but we do have fire. And fire season is getting worse. Extreme fire behavior is the new normal, and megafires like the Caldor are becoming more frequent.

And you know? A lot of people believe there is some kind of fire-free solution. Some people believe we live in a state where logging is illegal, even though our forests are logged constantly. Some believe there is some kind of forest management fairy that will fix all of this, despite the practice’s track record of failure. Some believe we need more prescribed burns, but that it needs to be 100% safe to happen. Some believe that CALFIRE purposefully sets wildfires to maintain job security. Some people should spend less time watching infowars and more time in meadows.

No one who says these things really lives in the mountains, despite where their address might lay on a map. They are stuck in a mindset of control — of getting what they want and forcing their will upon the world. This is a disastrous way of thinking, and it is incompatible with our future. It isn’t how the old timers approached the past, and it can’t be how we approach the future.

I spend a lot of time living in the mountains. Talking to the ranchers who have grazed the National Forest for hundreds of years. Meeting up with the rangers who clear the roads every spring. Kicking the drunk hunters off my roads. Wandering the meadow with foresters. I’ve snowshoed through five feet of fresh snow, dipped in ice cold streams, and used a chainsaw taller than me to take down a 200ft tall fir. The reality of the mountains is very different than talking points on TV and the memes posted by “retired loggers” on Facebook.

The forest around the ranch was logged heavily over the past three years. After the logging crews came the masticators and wood chippers. This was all in preparation for a series of prescribed burns, the first of which escaped its boundaries and became known as the Caples Fire. This fire received massive backlash from the community despite no structures being lost and the fire’s objectives being met in majority (burninng of underbrush, retention of large trees).

Even with the massive amount of logging, mastication, firefighters, dozers, airplanes, and helicopters, the Caldor Fire ripped through this forest without care. It leapt across hundreds of clear cut properties owned by Sierra Pacific Industries, jumped over firebreaks six blades wide, and created spot fires up to a mile away. The only place it did stop? At the burn scar for the Caples Fire, the one that so many believed to be reckless.

Decades of preventing fire, extended drought, and a changed climate have all converged to create conditions for extreme fire behavior. There is no easy fix, and there are no safe solutions. We are going to see a lot more fires in the West.

There is no fire-free option for our forests. We burn them, or we watch them burn.


The Old Log Cabin

For those of you who don’t know, I own an old high elevation cow camp in the Sierra Nevadas with my friend David. It’s home to a 99 year old hand-hewn log cabin, a chainsaw milled post & beam horse barn, and a few smaller bunk houses. It’s been a source of great joy and fulfillment over the years. We call it Leaping Daisy, or sometimes just The Ranch.

The Cabin in Winter

Now for the sad part: the rancher who grazes cattle around the ranch called yesterday, and let me know the old cabin and all the bunk houses burned down in the Caldor Fire.

The Cabin's Remains

Jessica and I have put a lot of work into the cabin the past couple of years — it was a particularly good escape from the beginning months of the coronavirus lockdown. We cleaned it up, fixed the plumbing, replaced the chinking, put a fresh coat of stain on the old logs, and very nearly removed the resident mice.

We may have owned the cabin, but it wasn’t really ours. It was a relic from the Old West, a place where the cowboys would come after a long day of rounding up cattle, start a fire in the wood stove, and fry up some chicken for dinner. It was a building that invited stories and encouraged the imagination. What did this place look like in 1922 when they cleared the land and built the cabin? What kinds of tools did they use? How did Bungie lift those roof rafters by himself when he replaced the roof at the age of 65?

Dog Spirals in Winter

It’s sad, but it isn’t tragic — this is what living in the mountains means. To choose to live in the mountains means you choose to live in the midst of powers far beyond your control. It means preparing for the weather, respecting the terrain, wrapping your arms around trees five feet in diameter, and climbing boulders bigger than houses. And it also means living with wildfire. There is no fire-free option for our forests. We burn them, or we watch them burn. This time we watched them burn.

Jess in the Hammock in front  of the bath house

I’m grateful for all the memories we made at the old cabin, and I’m glad so many of you were able to experience it while it was still around. Its story is finished. A hundred years ago someone cleared the forest to build a cabin, and yesterday the forest took it back.

This is hardly the end for Leaping Daisy. For now, the old barn still stands, the UTV sits safely in its shed, and the solar shed is still up and running and providing WiFi for the embers. The underbrush has burned away and many healthy trees remain standing. The forest is resilient.

The Barn amoungst embers

The joy of the ranch has never been in the having — it’s been in the doing. There’s a little less to have now, but there’s still plenty to do. We’ll have to buy some new chainsaws and dig a new outhouse. Then maybe we can get started on something to inspire stories for the years to come.

Wildflowers in the meadow


There is something else.

Fire is a big subject in California. We don’t have hurricanes, we don’t have tornadoes, but we do have fire. And fire season is getting worse. Extreme fire behavior is the new normal, and megafires like the Caldor are becoming more frequent.

And you know? A lot of people believe there is some kind of fire-free solution. Some people believe we live in a state where logging is illegal, even though our forests are logged constantly. Some believe there is some kind of forest management fairy that will fix all of this, despite the practice’s track record of failure. Some believe we need more prescribed burns, but that it needs to be 100% safe to happen. Some believe that CALFIRE purposefully sets wildfires to maintain job security. Some people should spend less time watching infowars and more time in meadows.

No one who says these things really lives in the mountains, despite where their address might lay on a map. They are stuck in a mindset of control — of getting what they want and forcing their will upon the world. This is a disastrous way of thinking, and it is incompatible with our future. It isn’t how the old timers approached the past, and it can’t be how we approach the future.

I spend a lot of time living in the mountains. Talking to the ranchers who have grazed the National Forest for hundreds of years. Meeting up with the rangers who clear the roads every spring. Kicking the drunk hunters off my roads. Wandering the meadow with foresters. I’ve snowshoed through five feet of fresh snow, dipped in ice cold streams, and used a chainsaw taller than me to take down a 200ft tall fir. The reality of the mountains is very different than talking points on TV and the memes posted by “retired loggers” on Facebook.

The forest around the ranch was logged heavily over the past three years. After the logging crews came the masticators and wood chippers. This was all in preparation for a series of prescribed burns, the first of which escaped its boundaries and became known as the Caples Fire. This fire received massive backlash from the community despite no structures being lost and the fire’s objectives being met in majority (burninng of underbrush, retention of large trees).

Even with the massive amount of logging, mastication, firefighters, dozers, airplanes, and helicopters, the Caldor Fire ripped through this forest without care. It leapt across hundreds of clear cut properties owned by Sierra Pacific Industries, jumped over firebreaks six blades wide, and created spot fires up to a mile away. The only place it did stop? At the burn scar for the Caples Fire, the one that so many believed to be reckless.

Decades of preventing fire, extended drought, and a changed climate have all converged to create conditions for extreme fire behavior. There is no easy fix, and there are no safe solutions. We are going to see a lot more fires in the West.

There is no fire-free option for our forests. We burn them, or we watch them burn.


Toward a More Resilient Future

It’s been about seventeen years now that this website has been my little corner of the internet. It’s gone through a few different iterations in those years — some sarcastic, some serious, and some arbitrarily personal. Many of those iterations are lost to poorly exported databases, absolute positioning, and the whims of archive.org. So it goes.

I’ve wanted a new Warpspire for a while now, but I’ve struggled to figure out what it should be. My initial instinct was to start with the content — because we all know that’s the best way to build anything important. Content is King and all that jazz. Wait — do people even say that anymore? I guess I still believe it. So I wrote. I made outlines, collected notes, revised drafts. I thought about where I wanted to go in life — no — where I should go in life. I wrote more. I kept iterating. None of it ever felt right.

But you know, Warpspire isn’t important. I forgot that. I don’t think there’s anything of purposeful value here. I’ve made some good arguments and some bad arguments, but there’s nothing on this site that is revolutionary or essential. When Warpspire has been at its best, it’s been a place just for me — not a thing for anyone else. I’m not really an expert. Not a genius. I’m just figuring out the world through my own eyes.

My world has changed pretty drastically over the past few years. Or is it a decade? I don’t even know anymore. I’m not sure it matters. Here’s the thing: the entire world has changed in the past ten weeks. Whatever comes next is going to be different.

It feels like time for a new Warpspire. Not one of the versions I’d outlined — those potential futures have been left behind. This is something new, something with space to grow. It’s exactly what it needs to be: a website that doesn’t know what it is yet.

Yes, all of the old links work. I am not a monster. The world changes, but it always remembers.

It feels very much like the world right now. We had a lot of ideas that weren’t working very well. So much of our world was just teetering on the edge of failure when the cliff fell out from under us. We find ourselves Wile E. Coyote floating in the air above a ground that isn’t there anymore. We haven’t started to fall yet, but it’s not like the cliff is going to come back any time soon.

I know a lot of people think things will go back to normal when this is over (and that there is an “over” to be had!). They believe this is just a hiccup, everything is still on track just maybe a little delayed. I’m not so sure. Revolutions need not be interesting. They are often quite boring.

We just hit pause on most of the modern world and we don’t know what that means. One thing I do know is we’ve been presented with an opportunity. Opportunity for growth. Opportunity for corruption. Opportunity for failure. Opportunity for something new.

I want that something new to be more resilient. I don’t know exactly what that means, either. I only have fragments. I guess that’s kind of what I want this place to be for now. Fragments toward a more resilient future.

Fragments

Can we take whatever this hamster-wheel idea that is The Economy, mash it up in a blender, and come out the other side with a hamster-wheel that pushes toward a healthier planet and a better society?

  • Healthcare
  • Education
  • Food
  • Water
  • Shelter

Everyone should have this. We should give them these things because they are good things to do. It does not matter whether people deserve it, who qualifies as a person, or how we will pay for it — these are distractions. It matters that we believe it is right. If it is right and it is possible, we should do it. It is definitely possible. And I am certain it is right.

Kim Stanley Robinson on Making the Fed’s Money Printer Go Brrrr for the Planet.

We have plenty of work for people to do. Work that is far more fulfilling than running in the hamster wheel of the economy. The New New Deal? The Green New Deal? These are too small. I wish we had a progressive wing in America. We have a lot of interesting work that would be good for the planet and its people. And we just don’t do it? I’ve never understood that. What if we did good things because they are good?

This is frustrating. I do not have the answers. I really wish I did.


The Future of Work is a very real thing right now. Not in that silly way Venture Capitalists talk about it: when an employer forces you to use a website, that doesn’t mean it’s the future of work. That’s just a website. Sorry.

The current state of work is rapidly morphing into a new hierarchy of classes. The Owners. The Work-From-Home. The Warehouse Shufflers. The Line Cooks. The Delivery Drivers. This is a scary look. It does not fill my heart with good feelings.

There are promising looks! Many who work from home now always could have. We never needed to commute. And we sure didn’t need that massive office building. It turns out that yes, most meetings could have been emails. Most emails need never have been sent. We never needed to fill our air with pollutants. We can do all kinds of work just fine without burning millions of gallons of jet fuel.

John Roderick and Merlin Mann in Garbage Island. An introvert revolt! Load up the office with mylar balloons — I’m staying at home. I love it.

The Extroverts are not the problem. And the problem with the Introverts is that we think the Extroverts are the problem. And the problem with Extroverts is that they don’t think about Introverts at all.

The scales are definitely tipping in favor of the Introverts right now. I wonder if they will take advantage.


The Future of Living is another thing I think about a lot. You can live your life without ever coming into contact with the act of living these days. Washing your sheets. Gardening. Cooking. Building a deck. Sweeping the floor.

There is inherent value in spending more time in the act of living. It is likely to be the antidote for the anxiety of the modern world. We are all spending a lot more time living these days. It is not an antidote for anxiety. This is a troubled thesis and needs a lot of investigation.

43 minutes of Shawn James in the act of living.


Regenerative Food Production. Tahoe Businesses. Carbon Removal. I’d love to invest in you! I’m a terrible correspondent. I’m sorry.

kyle@warpspire.com

I’m probably not interested in your app.


Books of the moment:

  • Masanobu Fukuoka — One Straw Revolution
  • Kim Stanley Robinson - 2312
  • Charles C. Mann - 1491
  • Susan Cain - Quiet
  • Isaac Asimov - Foundation, Second Foundation, Foundation and Empire

Apparently, I like books titled after dates.


Toward a More Resilient Future

It’s been about seventeen years now that this website has been my little corner of the internet. It’s gone through a few different iterations in those years — some sarcastic, some serious, and some arbitrarily personal. Many of those iterations are lost to poorly exported databases, absolute positioning, and the whims of archive.org. So it goes.

I’ve wanted a new Warpspire for a while now, but I’ve struggled to figure out what it should be. My initial instinct was to start with the content — because we all know that’s the best way to build anything important. Content is King and all that jazz. Wait — do people even say that anymore? I guess I still believe it. So I wrote. I made outlines, collected notes, revised drafts. I thought about where I wanted to go in life — no — where I should go in life. I wrote more. I kept iterating. None of it ever felt right.

But you know, Warpspire isn’t important. I forgot that. I don’t think there’s anything of purposeful value here. I’ve made some good arguments and some bad arguments, but there’s nothing on this site that is revolutionary or essential. When Warpspire has been at its best, it’s been a place just for me — not a thing for anyone else. I’m not really an expert. Not a genius. I’m just figuring out the world through my own eyes.

My world has changed pretty drastically over the past few years. Or is it a decade? I don’t even know anymore. I’m not sure it matters. Here’s the thing: the entire world has changed in the past ten weeks. Whatever comes next is going to be different.

It feels like time for a new Warpspire. Not one of the versions I’d outlined — those potential futures have been left behind. This is something new, something with space to grow. It’s exactly what it needs to be: a website that doesn’t know what it is yet.

Yes, all of the old links work. I am not a monster. The world changes, but it always remembers.

It feels very much like the world right now. We had a lot of ideas that weren’t working very well. So much of our world was just teetering on the edge of failure when the cliff fell out from under us. We find ourselves Wile E. Coyote floating in the air above a ground that isn’t there anymore. We haven’t started to fall yet, but it’s not like the cliff is going to come back any time soon.

I know a lot of people think things will go back to normal when this is over (and that there is an “over” to be had!). They believe this is just a hiccup, everything is still on track just maybe a little delayed. I’m not so sure. Revolutions need not be interesting. They are often quite boring.

We just hit pause on most of the modern world and we don’t know what that means. One thing I do know is we’ve been presented with an opportunity. Opportunity for growth. Opportunity for corruption. Opportunity for failure. Opportunity for something new.

I want that something new to be more resilient. I don’t know exactly what that means, either. I only have fragments. I guess that’s kind of what I want this place to be for now. Fragments toward a more resilient future.

Fragments

Can we take whatever this hamster-wheel idea that is The Economy, mash it up in a blender, and come out the other side with a hamster-wheel that pushes toward a healthier planet and a better society?

  • Healthcare
  • Education
  • Food
  • Water
  • Shelter

Everyone should have this. We should give them these things because they are good things to do. It does not matter whether people deserve it, who qualifies as a person, or how we will pay for it — these are distractions. It matters that we believe it is right. If it is right and it is possible, we should do it. It is definitely possible. And I am certain it is right.

Kim Stanley Robinson on Making the Fed’s Money Printer Go Brrrr for the Planet.

We have plenty of work for people to do. Work that is far more fulfilling than running in the hamster wheel of the economy. The New New Deal? The Green New Deal? These are too small. I wish we had a progressive wing in America. We have a lot of interesting work that would be good for the planet and its people. And we just don’t do it? I’ve never understood that. What if we did good things because they are good?

This is frustrating. I do not have the answers. I really wish I did.


The Future of Work is a very real thing right now. Not in that silly way Venture Capitalists talk about it: when an employer forces you to use a website, that doesn’t mean it’s the future of work. That’s just a website. Sorry.

The current state of work is rapidly morphing into a new hierarchy of classes. The Owners. The Work-From-Home. The Warehouse Shufflers. The Line Cooks. The Delivery Drivers. This is a scary look. It does not fill my heart with good feelings.

There are promising looks! Many who work from home now always could have. We never needed to commute. And we sure didn’t need that massive office building. It turns out that yes, most meetings could have been emails. Most emails need never have been sent. We never needed to fill our air with pollutants. We can do all kinds of work just fine without burning millions of gallons of jet fuel.

John Roderick and Merlin Mann in Garbage Island. An introvert revolt! Load up the office with mylar balloons — I’m staying at home. I love it.

The Extroverts are not the problem. And the problem with the Introverts is that we think the Extroverts are the problem. And the problem with Extroverts is that they don’t think about Introverts at all.

The scales are definitely tipping in favor of the Introverts right now. I wonder if they will take advantage.


The Future of Living is another thing I think about a lot. You can live your life without ever coming into contact with the act of living these days. Washing your sheets. Gardening. Cooking. Building a deck. Sweeping the floor.

There is inherent value in spending more time in the act of living. It is likely to be the antidote for the anxiety of the modern world. We are all spending a lot more time living these days. It is not an antidote for anxiety. This is a troubled thesis and needs a lot of investigation.

43 minutes of Shawn James in the act of living.


Regenerative Food Production. Tahoe Businesses. Carbon Removal. I’d love to invest in you! I’m a terrible correspondent. I’m sorry.

kyle@warpspire.com

I’m probably not interested in your app.


Books of the moment:

  • Masanobu Fukuoka — One Straw Revolution
  • Kim Stanley Robinson - 2312
  • Charles C. Mann - 1491
  • Susan Cain - Quiet
  • Isaac Asimov - Foundation, Second Foundation, Foundation and Empire

Apparently, I like books titled after dates.


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