Monday, June 14, 2010

The Empathic Civilization

I was in the middle of writing another rambling philosophical piece on the emergent nature of human civilization when a friend of mine forwarded me this video. I still think I'll finish my draft, as I would like to highlight the role of charisma in civilization. However, I was so blown away by both this talk and the associated video animation that I thought I would post this immediately.

If you'd like, feel free to think of these as my thoughts, spoken by someone far more articulate than me, and illustrated by someone else far more talented than me. Or, simply think of it as a cool video which I stole and put on my blog instead of generating any genuine content of my own. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

I Wish Every Land Were Like Disneyland

Downtown Disneyland, that is. I'm on vacation with the family this week, on our first trip to Disneyland as a family. If you've never been here, it is almost worth going just to witness the immense dysfunction that is Los Angeles. I mean, I had seen pictures of the freeways and whatnot, but you really have to drive the freeways in person to get a feel for the awe-inspiring scale of it all. Ok, I admit that I'm probably not your average tourist, but I think that even the uninitiated can only respond in awe at the endless ribbons of freeways crisscross-crossing this odd land.

We worked it out that renting a car would be cheaper than taking a cab everywhere, and I have had a couple opportunities already to drive the freeway system. The whole experience struck me as strangely lonely. I have had more social interaction in a modern video game, yet the feeling is vaguely similar. "Oh, there's the exit!". Swoosh, zoom, off to the next goal. But the whole river of traffic is impassive, but for constant hum of the cars.

It is as if there are two different cities: one for the cars and a second one for the people. When you are on the freeways, that is all that you can see. Off-ramps are no salvation -- they just lead to other freeways. Los Angeles is all about the journey, not the destination.

So what does this have to Downtown Disney? Well, on weekdays, the park closes early at 8:00 pm. Not expecting this, and having nothing better to do, the family and I followed the crowd to something called "Downtown Disney", which turned out to be a shockingly pleasant, tree-lined, pedestrian-only urban mall, with restaurants, stores, bars, street musicians, fountains, statues -- the works. It was fantastic.

I just can't get it out of my head: the contrast between the Magical World's concept of urban space and the actual implementation in the city which contains it. I don't know what causes this, but to witness the destruction of public space on such a vast scale, and then to find a pocket of the most wonderful public space in a completely artificial setting has left me in awe at the power of systems evolution. Los Angeles did not simply grow, it evolved. Along the way, sure, people made important decisions which led to the city as it is today. But for the most part, I'm sure that the city simple responded in an evolutionary fashion to the pulls and pushes of the society which built it. If I were ever to understand these forces, I'm sure it would open the door to an entirely new form of science.

Until then, thought, I'm stuck jotting down my impressions in my poor, neglected blog.

(p.s. I'll post pictures soon)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Suburban Lawn Rebellion

At home sick today. Sinus cold. My head is throbbing to the rhythm of my pulse, which would be kinda cool if it didn't hurt so much. I don't do well at being sick. I usually spend my time thinking about all of the things which I could be doing if I were not sick. In my case today, the list of interesting things I could be doing is pretty large, but they all seem to involve a clear head.

Instead, I have chosen to lay on the couch with a gigantic cup of tea and a good book: No Impact Man, by Colin Beaven. Cindy and I had recently seen the movie by the same title, and I wanted to learn a bit more. The book (and the movie) is an autobiographical account of the author's attempts to live with no net environmental impact. The author, along with his some reluctant wife and charming baby daughter, goes all out, to the point of turning off his electricity and running on a small solar panel. In the middle of New York City. I'm sure I have more to say about that in a bit; but first, the story of today's posting...

The book's choppy, blog-like style has inspired me to write a bit. In the spirit of the blog-style, I feel compelled to tell you the story of my neighbor and his lawn. He's out there, right now, for something like the third day in a row, laboriously raking out winter's dead grass. I'm sure there's some type of gardening word for this behavior, but I don't remember what it is. Mulching? My wife Cindy took one look across the street at this production and said, "If I'm going to be putting that much work into my front lawn, it had better produce food for me."

We're planning on erasing at least half of our front lawn this year and putting in garden beds. Our garden last year was a real treat, but was probably only capable of sustaining our whole family for all of a week. We're looking to triple that number this year. We have just picked up a five-foot hanging porch swing for the front, from a wonderful place called Marc's Outdoor Lawn Furniture, which afforded me the opportunity to support local small-scale manufacturing and drive my beat-up F-150 at the same time. I'm looking forward to evenings spent swinging and watching the garden grow.

As I'm typing this, the aforementioned neighbor is putting the dead grass clippings into bright orange plastic bags beside his house. I suspect he has nefarious industrialized methane-producing plans for them. Now he's fired up his gas-powered lawn mower to give his lawn another go-over, for reasons which only God Himself could comprehend. Well, maybe there's a book entitled, "Meticulous Lawns of Suburbia" which offers a few hints, but that's not on my bookshelf. Another neighbor, a retired man with a penchant for classic cars, is up to his daily routine: running the engines of his cars in neutral for a good 10 minutes. This, I'm sure, has something to do with keeping the engine in mint condition. My bondo-and-rust F-150 looks across the street at the classics idling away with what I imagine to be a mixture of disdain and jealousy.

I have informed both Mr. Classic Cars and Mr. Perfect Lawn of our plans for the garden. The car guy spends his vacations fishing, so he understands why someone would spend way more money and time to acquire food than could be spent in a quick trip to the supermarket. But lawn guy is completely baffled. "What the hell are you doing that for?" he sputters. "Strictly to irritate the neighbors," I reply. Car guy chuckles.

Now, I actually quite like our neighbors. Our kids play together, we get along well, and we have even had dinner a few times at lawn guy's house. But I can't help thinking that all three of us have a little identity display going on. We haven't become the most dominate species on the planet by being rational. We've achieved that status by chancing upon a pattern of mutually-reinforcing competition, in which part of our feeling of happiness is dependent on the knowledge that we're kicking someone's ass at something. We've taken "survival of the fittest" in a million new directions, leaving literally all of the other species on this planet in the dust. Me (crazy eco-guy, I'm sure), car guy, and lawn guy are locked in a three-way dance of slightly smug superiority over our displays of suburban identity.

I'm not even going to try to fight it. So, rather than try to rewrite the driving force of human civilization, I think I'll invite my neighbors over for dinner. Once I can cook a meal entirely from our garden, that is.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Inertia Pattern

Well, the 2010 Winter Olympics are over, and what a ride they were! As you may recall, in a previous blog post I told you that my workplace had planned to run itself entirely remotely for the full two weeks of the Olympics. Our heads were filled with visions of traffic jams clogging the city streets, and hour-long waits for the SkyTrain. We had even planned for riots breaking out: meeting rooms in the office were labeled “safe room” if they didn’t have a line-of-sight to the street. None of that happened. If anything, traffic was lighter than normal, and the longest I had to wait for a train was an extra three minutes or so.

Instead, it was as if the entire world showed up for a gigantic two-week long street festival with a side plate of sports thrown in for fun. After a couple of days of this, all of the residents of Vancouver sort of looked at each other and said, “Hey, this isn’t so bad. Let’s join in!” If anything, the only part of the Olympics which felt poorly planned to me was the suburban train line to my house. The line’s capacity was doubled with extra runs, but they could have easily tripled capacity and still filled all the seats. I’m certain that the transit planners had access to the ticket sale numbers broken down by suburb, but they underestimated the number of people who would want to come in, well, just to join the party.

One thing which made it such a great experience was that the city had created a network of pedestrian-only streets in the downtown core, connected together by the subway lines. This meant that families could easily walk between venues with young children, jumping onto the metro system if the distances were too large, or just wandering around the streets, free from traffic worries. During the first week of the Olympics, my family came down on one of the extra afternoon trains, and we stayed until 9:30 PM. We wandered for hours through the venues. On Granville Street, a large exhibit of lantern trees had sprouted up through the pavement, much to the delight of my kids. Dinner even came with a show -- a troupe of fire jugglers set up on the street next to our patio table.

Granville Street Lantern Forest

The whole thing was such a great experience, it made me wonder why urban life couldn’t always be that way. Do people really need cars to get around a modern city? Do they have to spend their evenings in their living rooms watching Survivor reruns on their big screen TVs? Must all food come in boxes and cans found within warehouse-style grocery stores, themselves surrounded by giant parking lots? I think that most people (myself included) are focused on things like getting that assignment completed for work, or taking the kids to the park, or trying to figure out what to cook for dinner. Few of us have either the time or the energy to contemplate a different way of living. The way this all sums up is that society operates on an inertia which keeps everything moving in more or less the same direction it did yesterday. Even if we are presented with a wonderfully different way of living, as occurred during the Olympics, it's simply too easy to lapse back to the old ways.

Many people commented to me how traffic was never lighter than during the Olympics, and how the pedestrian streets were full of life. Within a few days after the closing ceremonies, the barricades came down, the cars returned, and children could no longer to be seen eating warm Nutella crepes in the middle of the street.

Back to the inertia pattern.

Sigh...

Friday, February 19, 2010

A Bit of Fun

I'm going to take a break from the usual philosophical rambling to brag a bit. I hope you don't mind.

My first piece of news: I'm officially published! An article I wrote on post-industrial commuting has appeared in the local Maple Ridge News, under the "Green Matters" column. Since it's a free publication, I think I'll keep my day job. But it was fun to see my writing edited and reformatted in infuriating ways. I have the opportunity to write regularly in this column, and I intend to take it.

In other news, after my earlier blog rant about the potential for a software-driven revolution in the global economy, I decided to go back to writing code again. In my rant, I rambled somewhat incoherently about the need to expand collaborative software into the business realm. So when a programming contest opened up to develop custom methods for the company's new 12 Sprints project, I figured it would be a good opportunity to see if I could still write code (I haven't written code in several years). I teamed up on the contest with two friends from work, who did a great job keeping my random brain on a strict schedule of delivery. Together, we created "Discussit", a tool to enable image-based collaboration. You can watch our demo video on YouTube here. Well, guess what -- we won!

Now we have to somehow figure out how to split a MacBook Pro into 3 separate pieces. I'm planning to trade my share in for an iPad. I'm downloading the iPad SDK (software development kit) as I type this. It's good to have some fun again.

Friday, January 1, 2010

The Music of the Material





Truck trouble.

I am now officially a resident of Maple Ridge, having acquired a beat-up Ford F-150 this past summer. The truck came to us via my wife's parents, who simultaneously downsized their truck to a tiny Suzuki and upsized their camper to a camper van. We purchased their old truck and camper to feed our yuppy-versus-redneck inner conflicts. Both leak in the rain.

We discovered the rain leak over the holidays, in our quest for a Christmas tree. We hadn't used the truck in over a month, and in our absence the floor had grown a soft carpet of fuzzy mould. A flaw in the seal around the windshield allowed condensation to build up to optimum mould-growing conditions, something which would have happened in the semi-desert conditions of my in-law's city. But mould is a constant problem living in a temperate rain forest. An hour later, after treatment with hydrogen peroxide and a shop-vac, we were ready to go.

If only the truck would start. The teenage "technician" at Canadian Tire confirmed my suspicions: the battery was dead. Another hour and $100 later, a new battery was installed and the truck was ready to go. The kids were surprisingly forgiving of all the delays, but by this time the sun was setting, so we hurried off to the wonderful Alouette Tree Farm to become their last customer of the day. Cost of the tree, plus hot dogs, hot chocolate, and assorted items from the gift shop: $65.

The story is not quite over, though. The next day, on a hunch, I tried starting the truck. Dead again. After recharging the new battery for 6 hours with a plug-in charger, I was able to drive the truck to our mechanic. Another $380 and the truck was humming again -- this time with a new alternator.

What was going on here? I had just spent $545 on a Christmas tree. I'm pretty sure that the truck is useful for things other than hauling room-sized trees, but still... it was nothing that I had planned for. But I pressed steadfastly on, refusing to be deterred from the goal. The decorations had been hauled out from the crawlspace, the furniture had been rearranged, we had to have that tree! And all around me, people were doing the same thing I was doing: spending enormous amounts of time and money attempting to generate a particular type of festive experience. Even the experience of driving a beat-up F-150 is a strangely satisfying joy.

I gave some thought to why this is, and I think I might be onto something. I enjoy music tremendously, and I listen to a lot of it. I find music generates a certain sense of "place" which I can go to -- a certain unique feeling. But as much as I enjoy music, I am almost completely cut off from the production of music itself. The architecture of music is complex and the structures of music are time-consuming and difficult to assemble.

There is, however, another uniquely human activity which does give me opportunity to express myself creatively and allows me to generate a similar sense of "place". It is the assembly and deployment of material possessions to create a tangible experience. It was not the tree that I wanted, it was the experience of visiting the tree farm, the kid's excitement seeing it come through the front door, the joy of decorating it, and the satisfaction of enjoying its glow with hot chocolate and Christmas music. I drained my bank account seeking to generate a certain type of song.

This link between materialism and music is somewhat disturbing to me, but I think it reaches to the core of being human. We are experience seekers. As soon as our physical needs are met, we turn immediately towards anything which might alter our experience of the world in more interesting ways. We play games, we listen to music, we eat and drink to excess, and yes, we buy things we don't need. Up until this Christmas, I had seen this act of buying things not needed as a sort of moral flaw, which could be resolved (thereby saving the planet from our insatiable consumption) through moral arguments. Now, however, I think that most people, whether they are conscious of it or not, are just trying to make some interesting music with the things they buy.

I need to spend some more time understanding this, but this model of the material as musical can be used to build a sustainable aesthetic of the material. Our drive to acquire is only destructive because of the vast quantity of waste we are willing to tolerate in our quest to experience something new. So much of what we consume and throw away is just cheap noise -- adding very little to our lives. What we need is a resurgence of an emphasis on quality over quantity. It is time to develop a new language of the material.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

A Sustainable Alternative to the Growth-Without-Limits Model of Industrialization

My Sustainability Journey
My personal sustainability journey has gone in less than a year from a sense of excitement and productivity to a crushing sense of despair – the sort of hopelessness which comes from not paying enough attention in class and finding out, the night before the final exam, that no amount of studying will prevent a failing grade. We have not come anywhere close to meeting the scale of the problem with the appropriate resources. We have skipped class to go out to movies with friends for too long; and now we are, in short, completely buggered.

Seriously, I’ve spent thousands of dollars retrofitting my house to be more energy efficient. I replaced the furnace with a heat pump, I applied extra layers of insulation to the attic, I replaced the windows with argon-filled double-paned “high-E” glass, and this all resulted in the reduction of my energy bill by about 30%. I dug up my lawn and planted a garden: strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, apples, potatoes, carrots, beans, peas, corn. This has reduced by food bill by just a small fraction. I had my van recycled in a government carbon-reduction program and replaced it with a little Toyota. We only use it on the weekends; during the week, my wife walks to work and I take the train. Yet, our car use alone still counts for more than the one ton of carbon emissions we need to get to per person within my lifetime. I can tell you this with confidence: personal action is not enough. It is “Lifestyle Green”. It is all very honorable and necessary, but it will not save the planet.

Vancouver has recently suffered a disastrous loss of over 90% of the expected salmon run. While the province calls for more studies and blames global warming, local scientists are blaming industrial-scale fish farming for spreading parasites into the ecosystem. Governments continue to argue about what to do about greenhouse-gas reduction while simultaneously using the melting Arctic as an opportunity to stake out new territory for deep-sea drilling and other resource exploitation. Last year saw global food shortages at a time when vast quantities of corn were diverted to the production of ethanol – corn which itself was fed fertilizers and pesticides generated from fossil fuels. It is difficult to escape the feeling that something is fundamentally wrong with the way the world works. We need “Systems Green”, not Lifestyle Green.

Going Back to When it all Began
If you want to figure out what is wrong with a system, it is often best to go back to when the system was first created, and re-examine the problems it was attempting to solve in a new light. To do so with our current globalized industrial system, we have to go all the way back to 1776. No, not to the Declaration of Independence, but to the publication of Adam Smith’s magnum opus, “The Wealth of Nations” in the spring of 1776. It’s a thick five-volume tome, and it came to me as a Christmas gift from my wife: part of a collection of 100 electronic books bundled with my Sony eBook reader. It should be mandatory reading in every university, for it explains in great detail the fundamentals of modern industrial economies. It’s all there: free trade, globalization, economies of scale, assembly-line manufacturing, principals of stock markets, how currencies function, etc. It is to economics what Darwin’s Origin of Species is to biology, or Newton’s Principia Mathematica is to physics; except that it is written in a wonderfully accessible banter, with lengthy examples from local industry. (There’s a chapter on the dangers of protecting the local wool industry with tariffs, in which replacing the word “wool” with “car” will bring it nicely up-to-date). It offers a look at our modern global economy from the perspective of someone who helped architect its beginnings.

Smith hints at the origin of our modern problems in chapter three: “As it is the power of exchanging that gives occasion to the division of labour, so the extent of this division must always be limited by the extent of that power, or, in other words, by the extent of the market.” He goes on to show how the extent of the market is mostly limited by transportation and communication, with the illustration of a single worker making nails in the Scottish highlands. “Such a workman… will make three hundred thousand nails in the year. But in such a situation it would be impossible to dispose of one thousand…” Smith makes the connection between more efficient transportation and more of this specialized industrialization. “As by means of water-carriage, a more extensive market is opened to every sort of industry than what land-carriage alone can afford it...” In short, Smith is saying that problems of transportation and communication place limits on market access, which in turn limits division of labour and large-scale industrialization.

No More Limits
Fast-forward to the 21st century. The Internet has enabled global markets to communicate at the speed of light; and cheap energy, mostly in the form of cheap oil, has enabled transportation of goods on a scale Smith could not have begun to imagine. Communication and transportation are no longer the limiting factors they once were. The supertanker and modern container ship have reduced the cost of shipping to a rounding error. Assembly-line methodology has enabled manufactured goods to be produced in enormous volumes. Industrialized factory farms have done the same for food production. And computers work 24 hours a day, seven days a week, to ensure that the planet-spanning supply chains run smoothly. In many ways, this is a story of resounding success, as it has led to a centuries-long burst of global prosperity – particularly over the past 50 years, when the trade barriers which Smith railed against 200 years earlier really started to come down.

But as impressive as industrialization and globalization have been at promoting prosperity, we are discovering that there is no "stop" mechanism to the system. It will keep growing, at a steady 5% rate of return, until all of the resources on the planet are converted to waste. This was bluntly illustrated in the film "Wall-E", in which the Earth was run by a single planet-wrecking corporation called "Buy-and-Large"; but we are also witnessing this today. The logic of industrialization rewards scale and ignores ecological limits.
This is a fundamental fact – an inescapable feature in the design of our global economy. Climate change is only one unfortunate outcome of industrialization; any physical system, be it fish populations, forest resources, farmland, air quality, etc, will eventually buckle under the logic of unlimited growth. To date, the only controls we have had for this system have been regulatory, but any witness to the climate change debates leading up to this year’s Copenhagen meeting can see that confronting global environmental problems with regulatory limits requires a level of global cooperation which we as a society are unable to muster. We must not place all our eggs in the regulatory basket. We must also reach for other tools.

Turning the Corner
It is at this point in my personal sustainability journey that I have started to become optimistic once again. I have some goals now:

1. Eliminate the advantage of scale
Our economy advantages large players over the small. Since starting down this line of thought, I have encountered numerous examples of small-scale sustainable manufacturing, agricultural, and forestry operations which are being locked out of the market simply due to lack of scale. Grocery stores and restaurants are simply not equipped to buy organic produce from small farms. They purchase their food from large food distributors such as Sysco; who, in turn, purchase their food from large factory farms. This is just an outcome of not being able to deal with complexity. Industrial production is a massive exercise in simplification. However, if we could eliminate the advantage of scale, we would reintroduce a “stop” mechanism to the growth of industrialized processes. Small players have much more incentive to be long-term stewards of their resources and responsive to the prosperity of their local communities because they do not have the luxury of simply “moving on” once the local resources are either polluted or exhausted. Business must be relieved of the burden of growth.

The result will be a vastly more complicated economy; but it would be an economy based on the organic scale, rather than the industrial scale, and therefore much more capable to respond to the ecological challenges currently facing us. It will be a much more agile, sustainable economy. Fundamentally, eliminating the advantage of scale would allow sustainability to replace growth as a foundational principal of business.

2. Glocalize the economy
The other thing we desperately need is a mechanism to enable the exchange of physical goods to occur on a local basis, while keeping the non-physical portion of the economy globalized. This act of existing simultaneously in both the local and global context is called “glocalization”.

Cheap energy and communication technology have enabled our economy to assemble goods across vast distances. This is fine unless, of course, there is strong evidence that the energy is in a form which is causing significant harm to the environment, and which is soon to become much more expensive. In other words, globalization of physical goods makes sense only in the absence of peak oil and climate change. Since both peak oil and climate change seem to be highly probably threats, we must reexamine how we manufacture physical goods (including food).

There are two reasons for urgency in glocalization. The first is fairly obvious: the less fossil fuels we consume in meeting our demands for physical goods, the better we will be able to combat climate change, and the more time we will have to adapt to the economic impact of peak oil. The second cause for urgency is almost generational in scale. As developed nations have outsourced industrial capacity to the developing world, they have lost the institutions and social skills required to support local-scale manufacturing and goods distribution. Few of us in the developed world know anything about farming, wood-working, sewing, or any number of other skills which were once common in a localized economy. Likewise, the developing world is currently undergoing a rapid urbanization whose growth is fueled by the industrialized manufacture of consumer goods destined for the export market. The vast corn fields of Iowa, the glass towers of Manhattan’s financial district, and the acres of assembly lines in the manufacturing district of Guangzhou – all represent a massive loss of diversity in human capital which will have to be rebuilt within a single generation if we are going to survive the transition to a low-impact economy.

The Emerging Future
What can we do to eliminate the advantage of scale and enable the glocalization of our economy? Regulatory solutions will be required; but since I work in the software industry, the tools which I naturally reach for are software in nature. You have to work with what you know; and while I don’t know much, I do see at least a few trends emerging.

Tools such as Facebook, MySpace, and LinkedIn have already transformed social networking – doing for the social realm (as opposed to the economic realm) what I have discussed in terms of scale and glocalization. Prior to the emergence of these tools, social networks were built around personal influence and geographically-bound connections. A person’s social network was confined to those people they had physically met, unless they had some celebrity status in which case their network was defined by their celebrity identity. The popularity of these new tools is driven by the fact that they eliminate the effort and many of the traditional barriers to establishing and maintaining social connections. We need the same thing to happen in our global economy. We need an economic Facebook.

We are also seeing the emergence of a new class of collaboration tool – one which is rich and data-driven. Google Wave is one of the first of such tools. These tools distinguish themselves from e-mail, wikis, and the like in that they enable collaborative conversations to form between people as well as machines. In previous technologies, the machines were left out of the loop; but in this new class of technology, machines are invited as active participants in collaboration – supplying documents, data, and services to the conversation in a natural fashion. Take a look, for example, at SAP’s “Gravity” project. The demo shows a Wave-enabled Business Process Modeling tool with participation from several humans and a syntax-checking robot. At one point, about 5 minutes into the demo, one participant enables a process step to be automated through web-services with a few simple clicks. Another participant even uses an iPhone to access the Wave. At the end of the demo, the team uploads the completed model to NetWeaver’s BPM Workbench. Google’s own Stephanie Hannon was so impressed, she wrote, “I never thought I’d see grown men cry over business process modeling.” Trust me, they were tears of joy. Much of this technology is nascent, but this is the space to watch for the next wave of innovation (pun somewhat intended).

Finally, a hybrid on-premise / cloud model is emerging as a viable software form. One of the challenges in existing software-as-a-service (SaaS) offerings has been getting the solutions to scale profitably while continuing to offer the same richness of features as exists in on-premise software. I think this approach is fundamentally flawed; and is, in my opinion, driven by viewing SaaS as a software delivery vehicle which is designed to save on a customer’s IT operational costs through hosted applications. The true value of a cloud-based approach lies in its ability to be ubiquitous: available to anyone from anywhere at any time. Try thinking for a moment about the entire World Wide Web as a single SaaS offering for the management of hypertext documents. The original aim was ubiquitous access to information, and the nodes on the web were all originally self-hosted. It was only later that hosting came into play, once the technology became well-established and commoditized; and even then, the hosting services do not attempt to host the entire web.

The hybrid approach understands this, enabling our customers to expose their data and services in a ubiquitous fashion (i.e. “in the cloud”) while keeping the more complex applications themselves as self-hosted. Larry Ellison might rant about “the cloud” just being a collection of computers and databases sitting on a network, but the point is that the cloud model is more about creating a platform for enabling an ecosystem of users to interact meaningfully with a common purpose. The larger the ecosystem, and the easier it is to establish meaningful connections, the better the offering.

Have you wondered why Google would want to open source their Wave code, or what they are doing creating Wave in the first place? Do they really want to create the next generation email service? Are they competing with MSN chat? I believe their aims are much bigger than that. Google knows that their strength is in mining value from the relationships between nodes in a network in order to help people navigate the network. However, they have pretty much extracted all that they can from the current World-Wide Web, and they are actively looking for the Next Big Thing. It is my belief that they are creating Wave as a second web, but built around conversations instead of documents. Much like the original web was transformed far beyond its original agenda through open standards and a global community of innovators, Google is hoping for the same thing to happen with Wave. They have no real interest in hosting waves; they are relying on a wild milieu of third-party Wave Foundation servers to create a second world-wide web, which they can then index in order to provide search functionality. They need third-party gadgets and robots to serve up as search results.

What This All Means
OK, let me summarize what I have been trying to say, and where I think this is all going. First of all, I have tried to establish that our existing efforts in promoting sustainability are woefully inadequate to our current challenges. I have argued the logic of industrialization rewards scale and ignores ecological limits, and that our current environmental predicament is the result of removing the limits of transportation and communication from industrialized systems. I have not called for the end of globalization, but rather the introduction of forces which would limit the destructiveness of industrialization – namely to eliminate the advantage of scale and introduce tools which enable glocalization (the localization of the movement of physical goods while continuing to operate on global scales). Finally, I have identified a number of key trends in software which might be applied to the problem: cloud-based tools for connecting people, the emergence of collaboration tools which allow for the natural participation of machines in conversations, and the beginnings of a hybrid cloud model in which the cloud is used to build large networks of participants which interact with a collection of on-premise tools and services.

The future of a sustainable global economy lies in the creation of ubiquitous economic platforms. Just as social network software eliminated the “market barriers” for the creation of social networks, these economic platforms will level the playing field for participation in our economy. Such platforms will be based on open protocols, and will allow for collaborative exchanges between both people and machines. They will be cloud-based, to meet the requirements to connect from anywhere on any device; but they will primarily interact with on-premise applications. And finally, I have some hope that such a set of platforms, built around a common protocol such as Google Wave, will be capable of operating in a local, geographically-aware context.

The Next Steps
Well, this is my personal sustainability journey. It is my hope that this document will provide the reader some ideas of how to actually create sustainable prosperity, through radical innovation as opposed to incremental change. We must develop a sustainable economic alternative to our current growth-without-limits model of industrialization. I have started the ball rolling. Admittedly, my piece of the solution has a bit of a software focus; but hey, you gotta go with what you know. I am looking forward to what the rest of the world will come up with.