|
For years
the scientists and meteorologists have been nervously warning government and other public officials that it could happen, a disaster on a scale to dwarf any that had come before. Would it be an earthquake in Southern California? Perhaps, but the bigger fear was on the Gulf Coast, visited regularly by hurricanes that could threaten a whole range of vital national assets, not the least of which was the colorful and bustling city of New Orleans. With its Cajun culture and Mardi Gras, where the wild abandon of street parties would glow throughout the night, the Big Easy was also one of the largest port cities in the United States, handling the traffic of hundreds of barges on the Mississippi river. Commerce flowed into and out from this land of plenty through the waterways of New Orleans, and a storm could simply rage in from the Gulf and end all of that, said the scientists. And so it has. I speak of New Orleans in the past tense now, because the Big Easy is over, done, finished.
 Nothing about life in New Orleans will ever be fun filled or easy again, at least in
the foreseeable future. By any definition you can frame, the city has been simply wiped out as a functioning human community. Surrounded by water on every
side, and largely occupying ground that is well below sea level, the city has been protected all these years by a system of levees. But as we have seen all too
often, levees break. Designed to withstand a direct hit from a category 3 hurricane, the planners simply forgot that there were two more storm intensity
levels beyond that to be reckoned with. We have probably all seen the shows on the Discovery Channel or National Geographic that warned about this disaster.
And as with all these “what if” shows, the script ended with the dire prediction that it was simply a matter of time before the Big Easy would suffer that catastrophic hit by a category 4 or 5 storm.
 Two relatively small breaks in
the levee system spelled the doom of New Orleans. Now, with over 80% of the city flooded by the lake water to the north, the levees themselves serve to hold the water in and prevent its
natural drainage out to sea. The very walls designed to protect the city will now make it a cesspool of backed up sewage, natural debris and oil products leaking from the petro-terminals
in the area. The Big Easy will become a toxic soup of immense proportions, virtually uninhabitable for months, and more likely years. The tragedy
we have suffered in the loss of New Orleans is far greater than the destruction of mid-town Manhattan during the 9-11 attack. While immediate loss of life reports seem low, that will change in the days ahead as
authorities slowly work their way along the flooded streets to find the dead bodies of people who fled to the
attic of their inundated homes, and died there in the sweltering 90+ heat that followed the storm, for lack of
good air, food and water. Those who had the foresight to bring an ax or other tools with them were able to cut
their way through the roof to wait for rescue. But think now of all the elderly, the grandmothers, and others who could not muster the physical strength to get out. The job ahead will be a ghastly, heart rending
business—though authorities have only just begin to grasp the enormity of the situation they now face.
A major American city has been simply wiped out. Hundreds of thousands fled before the storm made
landfall, choking the glutted freeways with traffic as they headed inland to higher ground. Now where will they
go? Imagine their condition, leaving on 24 hours notice with a few possessions and learning that they now have no home to return to, and no city, and no job. Last month the government bragged that it added about
200,000 jobs to the economy, mostly low-end service sector jobs. We have just seen over a million people evacuate New Orleans and become unemployed. And for those too poor to get out, those who had no cars,
cash, or credit cards, they simply had to “hunker down” in the impoverished wards of the city that were
always there, ignored by our society, a vast underclass of people who subsist on minimum wage if they are lucky enough to have any employment at all.
This time the refugees are Americans: Yes, I have raged at the media for ignoring the suffering of the world in places like Rwanda and the Sudan while we consume fully a quarter or
the earth’s resources each year in America. I have noted that the wealth of the world's billionaires in 2004 (587 "individuals and family units"), according to Forbes magazine, is $1.9
trillion…more than the gross domestic product of the world's 135 poorest countries combined where half of the population of the planet lives. The wealth of the three most well-to-do
individuals now exceeds the combined GDP of the 48 least developed countries. At present, 3 billion people (half of the earth’s population) live on less than $2 per day and 1.3 billion
get by on less than $1 per day. The good people of New Orleans have been without electricity for five days, but half the people on earth have never had this luxury. These statistics
are mind-boggling, and but dimly reflected by the situation we now see in New Orleans, where the poor came out from their flooded wards and began to scavenge for anything they could find to survive.
It took a category 4 hurricane to blast away the shell of our society and expose the wretched hungry masses that live in our cities, and the inherent cruelty of a society that ignores
them. One of the greatest unsung tragedies of this event is not that they are simply trapped there now, without food, water, shelter or hope, but that we, as a people, allow
such disparity of wealth to exist in our homeland at all.
Capitalism and free markets are wonderful generators of wealth. Unfortunately, the basic work of this engine
is to move that wealth upward through society, into fewer and fewer hands. We all know the world outside
our capitalist dream is beset with inequity. There are vast lawless regions of the earth where millions struggle
and die. But here in America we never think that anything is wrong with our own calorie ridden system of constant consumption. Yet there is much wrong, and the same basic inequity we might find in Africa, where
a powerful few enjoy the lion’s share of the wealth, is also very true here. In the United States, a 12 trillion
dollar economy with about 285 million people, the median household income is was $42,409 in 2002. (Census Bureau statistic). But look at how that wealth is distributed:
As that graphic clearly shows, the greatest portion of an American family’s wealth was nestled in their home,
the equity of their house—equities that have been spiraling up in recent years due to increasing speculation in the housing markets. You will note that home ownership is much lower in the Hispanic and Black
populations, where poverty is much more of an issue in their daily lives. I have a well off friend who always
lambastes me for championing “the great unwashed” masses of humanity out there. The sad fact, exposed
by Hurricane Katrina and made all too visible now, is that poverty is not simply “out there,” it is alive an well
in America as well. Federal Reserve research found that the wealth of the top one percent of Americans is
now greater than that of the bottom 95 percent, though in spite of that disparity, there is still enough wealth
here to create a healthy middle class—largely made up of white homeowners. Poverty in America, those without homes, insurance and steady income, now plagues over 37 million, about 12.7% of our population.
They were the ones herded into the Superdome in New Orleans where, as James Kunstler wrote in his weekly blog: “they end up trapped in the high priced seats passively awaiting a spectacle that may destroy
their way of life. Fate becomes just another spectator sport.”
But we have been spectators as well. We are the ones watching on TV when disaster exposes the raw
truth about the inequity of our great American way of life. Who’s fault is it, we think, that all these people
don’t have homes, access to credit, health care, a productive job—this while we drain our national treasury
trying to fight wars in the Middle East for oil. Yes, we too have been spectators. We have seen the chaos
and trouble of the world, but never thought it could happen here, not to America, not to us. A quarter million people were swept away by a tsunami while we unwrapped our presents last Christmas, hordes of consumer
products wrapped in shiny paper and tied off with neat little ribbons. We sent them aid, sent in our military,
but now the flood tide is here on our own shores, and what will we do about it? I am not just speaking of the
immense problem in New Orleans, but the problems in a thousand other cities just like it. Hurricane Katrina shows us just how dependent we are on cheap and abundant energy to function as a society. Without it we
have no electricity, no telecommunications, and soon no food or water. And just as it only took a small break
in the levee to create the flood, it will only take a small disruption in our current supply side energy policy to cause a real crisis here.
This fact, an inevitable sequence of falling dominoes, was played out in fast forward in New Orleans this last
week. But it is also happening on a larger scale as well, slowly but surely, a creeping disaster that I wrote extensively about last month in the article, ironically, entitled “The Perfect Storm.” How shocking it was to see some of the events I was writing about being played out in rapid motion on CNN. Something happens to
interrupt the normal rhythm of society—in this case a real storm. Energy systems fail first, and with them go
communications. The well-off jump in their cars and motor away, the poor struggle on in what remains of the
city. Looting begins, just as it did in Baghdad, as the have nots, constantly exhorted to “get, watch and do
what you want” by our cable TV system begin to do exactly that. Stores are broken into, and people first
grab the obvious things they covet, designer sports jerseys, hundred dollar Nike tennis shoes by the crate, and that plasma TV they could never hope to afford. Then reality sets in and the looting turns instead to a
desperate scavenging for really useful things, food supplies, drinkable water, a flashlight, battery operated
radio, and in the case of the Big Easy, anything that will float. People are huddled into the few dry spots in
the city, and floating about on inflatable rafts, or wading in chest high tepid water. Soon contact with the
water itself presents a major health issue, as water borne diseases and other hazards become a possibility.
But strangely, unlike the coverage of 9/11, the TV commercials were not knocked off the airwaves this time.
As I watched the coverage of the Katrina disaster I was struck by the incongruous, almost jarring juxtaposition of advertisements from companies hawking home equity loans and rolling out those big
oversized SUVs with the exhortation that: “Now you can get the full sized SUV you really want”—and all this
while gasoline prices skyrocketed to over $5 per gallon in Atlanta because 40% of our nation’s refinery
capacity was knocked off-line in the Gulf. On the one hand we see the complete destruction of a major American city, and beyond that, the Gulf Coast region as a whole, and on the other hand the TV ads just
keep humming along, exhorting us to continue borrowing against that house, and to upgrade to a heavier, less fuel efficient hulk of a vehicle that is supposed to represent our freedom in some way because it can go
off road. This strange disconnect, scenes of disaster offset by smiling yuppies in SUVs, seemed to proceed from the notion that the real world was still safe and sound, not a chaotic mess like New Orleans. But the
truth of the matter is that most of the rest of the real world is much more like that ravaged Gulf coastline. The
crisis there, rippling out in high gas prices and shortages, is but a fore shock of the challenges waiting just around the corner for America.
The problem of New Orleans is enormous. They must first repair the levee system, then bring in some
source of power generation and the fuel to run it. Then they will spend 80 days pumping the water out of the
flooded city itself to allow access to the debris clogged streets. Only then will they be able to get into the
thousands of homes there, and bring out the dead that some fear will number in the thousands as well. That accomplished, they will be looking at a contaminated mess that once symbolized the easy, carefree lifestyle
of America, in all its excess. Will they rebuild there? Should they leave the city in this vulnerable place again
? Will it take a higher levee, better building codes, restoration of the barrier wetlands to secure the city’s
future? Something tells me the Big Easy is never going to be the same, no matter what they do. Build all the levees you want, there’s another storm out there somewhere that will blow them down.
But the problem is far greater than rebuilding New Orleans. The Big Easy is gone in other ways for
America as a whole. The shock this disaster gives to our energy system should be enough to awaken in us a realization that we simply cannot go on with our Mardi Gras lifestyle in this country. Something has to
change. We have built our levees to protect us all these years: our powerful military to secure the oil we need, a vast outpouring of home equity and consumer credit to keep our economy afloat. In many ways we,
as a nation, are much like New Orleans—a city below sea level that may soon be well over it’s head in the
flood tide that is coming. The challenge now is not to rebuild in the same old ways, the same old place—but to create something new in this country that will address the really impending crisis ahead.
 Industry insiders are leaking the news that the damage to facilities,
oil rigs, platforms, wells, is quite extensive. In the short run this means a real crunch on operations there, and some say it could be years before full production is restored--if at all. The Saudis
announced that they would try to increase production, but doubted if they could offset the loss. Oil platforms washed up on the coastline, blown in from as far as 60 miles off shore, and each one was
attached to twenty or more wells that are completely lost. As many as 30 off shore platforms and collection hubs are simply gone, possibly lying at the bottom of the gulf now. Even if they could be
replaced in reasonable time, our challenge is not simply a matter of rebuilding our old rigs--the dinosaurs of an aging and soon to be obsolete energy system.
The shock that Katrina will likely initiate will ripple out and gather strength this Fall and Winter when gas
shortages become heating oil shortages as well. If nothing else, this impending crisis should make us realize that we must wean ourselves away from dependence on oil and energy controlled by centralized
utility companies. In its place we must build new energy systems that are widely distributed, like the Internet
was built to prevent a collapse of communications in a time of disaster or war. (We are now in both.) We, as
a nation, cannot go forward beholden to Exxon Mobil, British Petroleum, Unocal, Shell and the others for the energy that underpins our society. In place of these huge corporate dynamos, we need a system where each
home has a renewable energy source that can produce a significant portion of its own energy needs—be it solar panels, wind turbines on our rooftops, or bio-fuels. We have to get started on this now, before that
economic category 5 storm I was writing about in Perfect Storm looms on the near horizon of our lives. And
part and parcel with this radical shift in the way we generate energy, we must have a corresponding shift in the way we consume it. The era of big, heavy, inefficient cars must flat out end. In their place we simply
need light, fuel efficient cars, and a dramatic expansion of mass transportation systems. The car-centric life
we all enjoy now must end, and with it we must have a similar shift in the way we distribute goods and
services—not shipping them in from all over the country to big box retail stores, but a new localization of
manufacturing and local area distribution. Centralization, of oil, energy generation, retail goods, and even government, must give way to widely distributed systems like the Internet.
The hard fact of all of this is that it may already be too late. That storm out there in our energy system has
suddenly moved from a category 3 to category 4, and our levees of denial will soon be breached by dire
necessity. Energy gurus tell us that it will take a great deal of time to develop widely distributed, alternative
energy systems, even assuming we started now with a massive national effort. And that time will be in a period of ever declining oil supplies, with rising energy costs. Any disruption, like 9/11, or a storm like
Katrina aimed at that soft oil-bloated underbelly of America on the Gulf Coast, will wreak short term havoc, but the general situation will continue to get worse, not better. Rebuilding New Orleans won’t make
everything fine again. The scenes you watch today in New Orleans, scenes of hardship, desperate people in the streets of a major US city, looting, Martial law, mass evacuation, and the emergence of the first
American “refugee camps,” will become more and more prevalent in the years ahead.
Yes, the Big Easy is gone, but it stands as a symbol now of something much more serious. The Big Easy
lifestyle of America must go with it. We have to change the way we live, the way we provide energy, the way we distribute wealth in this country. The mega mergers of huge corporations, and the continual upward flow
of wealth into the hands of a very few must cease. We are a great nation, to be sure, but we must now act like a great and enlightened people to confront the storms ahead. The weatherman has warned us, will we be
ready? We have the wealth, the muscle, the know how and the means to build a new society—just as we
have the means to build New Orleans again, though I would question the wisdom of that location in the long
run. Will we simply pump out the water and build the levees higher—keeping on the same course that brought us to this crisis? Or will we build something new here, where there is enough for all of us—and
perhaps not so awfully much for Bill, Warren, Paul, Larry, Michael and the Waltons. Sure they brought us Microsoft, Oracle, Dell Computers and Wal-Mart…but we need something more now, and they have had
enough of the wealth this society has generated in the last 50 years. (See sidebar update: Gates and Buffett
have really got religion recently, each pledgign $30 billion to the Gates Foundation Charity! Now that’s the spirit!)
The Big Easy is over, done, finished. Not just for New Orleans, but for all of us. It took a hurricane like
Katrina to expose the injustice and inequity of our economic system, to expose that neglected 12.7% that are now floating in the infested flood waters, and to expose the fragile, oil dependent energy system that
underpins this economy. When will we change? What more will it take? Like those who could not heed the warning to evacuate, America itself will soon be up to its neck in a flood tide of adversity.
What can you do?
The question plagues us as we watch the helpless man tell the reporter how the storm ripped his wife from
his arms. Almost every reporter who actually went to New Orleans showed the strain of the frustration of seeing helpless people languishing away without any material aid for five long days. The anger they felt could
not be disguised, and it was surely shared by millions who watched on TV. But what can we do? Those that have the disposable cash might assuage their conscience by making a contribution to the Red Cross. (How
about it Bill, Warren, Larry and all…Any room in those billion dollar budgets for some good old fashioned
humanitarian relief?) To be sure, we need to open our arms as a people and take in these shattered lives to
try and make them whole again. But giving a little money is not the most powerful thing you can do now. Sure, it will help out the folks in New Orleans, but we have a much bigger problem to consider. What can we
do about the years of crisis ahead in our energy system, and in the economy that depends on it?
Well… Look in your driveway. Is there an inefficient SUV parked out there? Walk out tomorrow and drive to your nearest car dealer and trade the damn thing in. Drive off the lot with a lighter, fuel efficient car that will
serve you much better in the years ahead. If Americans would start doing simple things like this, voting with
their dollars, we would start to get it through the dense heads in Detroit that we need fuel efficient cars. Chrysler and Ford crank out their Explorers, Pathfinders, Hummers and Jeeps because you buy them.
There may be many other areas where you can change the way you live now with an emphasis on
conservation instead of consumption. Some are little things: insulate your water heater or pipes, use some of
that home equity money to install thermal windows or solar heating systems. Believe me: if you start buying
it, they’ll start making it. Solar power will never make a dent in our energy picture until you, as a consumer,
start demanding it and voting with your dollars. Other little things you can do: turn off lights, install those nifty
energy efficient light bulbs, (I can light my whole place now on less than 100 watts), cut back on your
reflexive, constant driving. If you can take public transportation, do so. If it’s not available, start demanding it
in your city. Baring that—try walking out to short distance errands, or riding a bike instead. You’ll be much
healthier for that little change. Install low flow toilets to conserve fresh water, recycle, hang your laundry on a
clothes line instead of using the gas dryer. Open your window instead of turning on the AC. Put on a sweater instead of turning on the heat. And here’s a great link for lots more energy saving habits:
http://www.nrdc.org/air/energy/genergy/easy.asp
The point is, it will take real changes of lifestyle to change America, one person at a time. There are many of
us who have been awakened to the emergency ahead, writing and talking about it for years now. While most people still seem oblivious to the impending crisis, things like Hurricane Katrina will have a way of focusing
attention. And so I urge you all to consider ways to down-scale your life a bit, and to seek out leaders who
will dedicate themselves to the drastic changes we will need if we are to survive in the years ahead. Hint: you
will not get the needed changes by staffing the government with ex-oil company executives, as is the case today. What you will get is a policy aimed at continuing the reign of these powerful oil companies who
provide the essential energy of our society, and all the wars it will take to secure our access to other
people’s oil in the decades ahead. And don’t think “Strategic Petroleum Reserve”… We would consume the
whole thing in a few months if we didn’t have a constant stream of foreign crude. The oil companies are a bit
like New Orleans now too. Just as some will try to build a higher levee, big oil will want to maintain the current status quo in the energy game. They will not want to see widely distributed energy systems in each
American house—unless they can control that technology and profit from it as they do now with oil.
Bottom line: to change America you must first change yourself, and then change the people you designate
as leaders and lawmakers. If you don’t, you can look at the lawlessness of New Orleans, a city abandoned
to the sea and the last remnants of the poor and you will soon see that in your city and town. Don’t say it could never happen here. It is happening here. The poor are already there. You just don’t notice them.
As one popular Saturday Night Live character once said, you can either “believe me now or believe me later.”
Let us hope we take this crisis as an opportunity to initiate change before it is too late. But for now , let’s get out there and take care of our own in the Big Easy.
Oh, New Orleans... You were the soul of America, a place of wild excess, great diversity, the warm
hospitality of the south, history, gourmet food, bustling commerce, Mark Twain’s dreams on the Mississippi,
and all that jazz. You were also a place that was deeply troubled in this crazy modern world, with thousands
of poor families living in the shadow of the high rise hotels, and lurking in the alleyways of the French Quarter
. When we look at you now we see the best of America, and sadly the worst, side by side. When we look at you now we see ourselves, and we all stand shoulder to shoulder with those suffering people there now, as
they wait for the bus that never seems to come, with the hope that somewhere out there we can find a new life.
Bye, Bye, Big Easy. We’ll miss you.
© John Schettler, Sept 1, 2005
Related Articles:
Eye Of The Storm
Perfect Storm
Autumn of Our Discontent
|
