It began innocently enough. We are finishing Thanksgiving dinner as the conversation turns from classical music to rocket science. Junior is very interested in both subjects and normally being reluctantly quiet and introspective, the floor, or table in this case is all his. To say that he is a smart kid is like saying that French vanilla ice cream is tasty on top of home-made pumpkin pie. It is an engaging exchange where I feel my responsibility, my job, is to ask leading questions to allow his depth of knowledge to manifest. Each of us is intentionally slowing the pace of the dialogue to allow for the precise words to fit this requirement. Words like, some, several, about, many, kinda, sorta or maybe are immediately tossed out like yesterday’s non-recyclable trash. It is a good practice for each of us primarily because there is nowhere to hide. The inaccurate, the misunderstood, the obtuse, the gray areas, the myths and even the outright lies perpetuated by media and politics, are unacceptable in this one-sided debate.
It is a good talk, engaging and honest. He is mature enough to admit wonder and awe when a subject is exposed as incomplete, and then subsequent elements added for greater or more complete understanding of the issue. Conversely he likes to demonstrate his grasp of complex theories in physics, science and mathematics, the fascinating combination now called STEM. Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics.
As our communication drifts back from deep space, quanta, jet propulsion and elemental vibrations, I confess my ignorance to extol admiration to the NASA nerds who first figured out how to land a rocket on the moon - without a computer. Yeah, he says, they did all the calculations on a blackboard. Amazingly, he pulls his iPhone out of his pocket (we have been listening to Dave Brubeck via a Bluetooth speaker) and proclaims that he is now holding in his right hand more computing power than the first generation of rocket scientists had access to during their research, design and execution of America’s (or Russia’s) exploration of space.
I ask his Mother if there is, please, more coffee adding a WOW, to complete the story.
We carry on for another hour discussing the pragmatics of innovation and technology when I feel it appropriate to segue from the pure sciences to the geo-political, always risky territory.
Why, if we have the skill, knowledge and technology to make civilization run more efficiently, with less environmental damage, with more benefit for the most people, the many, do we choose not to?
I can see the sadness, bordering on anger, fill his eyes and I tell him with non-verbal sincerity that this is, in my opinion, the main issue of our time. He tries to take the easy route, a shrug of shoulders, when I cut him off at the pass with an unintended liberal ambush.
Capitalism, I say. We have evolved into a greedy tribe. Quickly consider the roles that Big Oil, Big Pharma, Big Military-Industrial, the management-ownership of them, including shareholders, that make the rules. For them there is only one rule: Profit.
It is late and I must go to feed the hungry dogs whose care is under my stewardship. I look across the table at my nephew. 'I am so sorry that we screwed things up so badly and left your generation to clean up the mess. We really tried in the 60’s to create positive change and set a clear direction to sail the ship towards sustainability, and although many of our most precious precepts are now accepted and standard practices, I am afraid that we failed miserably where we needed help the most.'
He looks at me with complete forgiveness and understanding, nodding his head in approval and agreement, seemingly ready to carry the torch, accept the awesome task.
And I need you to have it done by noon Friday.
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