Author Archives: Seong

Posts by Seong

Environmental Egalitarianism?

Seong Im Hong

December 3, 2012

Environmental Egalitarianism?

            We learned about NYC’s Solid Waste Management Plan (SWMP) this week. One thing that was striking about the lesson was the amount of… insatiable greed involved. For example, take the E 91st Street Transfer Station dilemma. The main opponent, Tony Ard, is obviously well off—he has a condo overlooking the East River in Manhattan. I suspect quite a bit of the loudest opponents are also well off as well. Despite that, however, they oppose the E 91st Station for reasons that seem not to go beyond property values. I understand that—nobody wants to have their property value lowered—but at the same time, they are using bad logic to mask their actual reason for protesting. The same logic they employ is silenced, of course, when poor neighborhoods where nobody knows someone who can influence the votes are saddled with waste transfer stations.

This controversy made me think about environmental egalitarianism, and whether it is possible, and how we can pursue it. It is clear that there is a need for environmental social justice. (Another thing I learned from this class: things that seem to not relate at all, like environmental justice and social justice, are in fact very much related.) Like we saw before with the NYT article on Rose Gardener, our society’s way of dealing with waste and other undesirable is to simply ship it off to those far away and less well off.

Which is all fine and good, I suppose, if you look at it as a pure exchange of services (serving as a dump) for money. However, I have to wonder if these people have to suffer the consequences of our action while we, the better off, consume and spend wantonly. The consequences can be as superficial as an ugly landscape (the great pyramid of waste in Tullytown comes to mind) or bad smell. You can write them off as occupational hazard. But there must be other consequences that do not seem so obvious. I wonder if being a “dumping town” limits the possibility of growth for Tullytown. I have no hard data on this, but I have to wonder if this main source of economic stability (being a dump) is actually a double-edged sword in terms of Tullytown’s economy’s sustainability. Given that Tullytown is known to smell because of the landfills, Tullytown must not be as attractive to entrepreneurs who wish to open up businesses in the town. And the landfill is not going anywhere even when Tullytown decides that they want to move forward toward some other form of economy. The landfill (and the low property values and the smell) will stay for years and years. So are we, the suppliers of landfill, actually keeping Tullytown stagnant and dependent on our waste? (Maybe even subjugated?) Is this a form of environmental/economical caste system?

(And I guess you can argue that Tullytown as an entity chose to be dependent on our waste. But what was there before that decision? New York City is a financial superpower compared to Tullytown. Maybe Tullytown was strapped for cash, and NYC made a decision that they couldn’t refuse. And even if Tullytown “chose,” is it right for us to dump waste on them? Besides, the fact that NYC is financially well off enough to ship waste to Tullytown isn’t because of us as individuals. Most of us were born here out of sheer luck. Most of us did nothing to significantly impact NYC’s economy. So why do we get to enjoy being on the better end of environmental inequalities that really comes not from us as a generation or individuals but from centuries of development that we had nothing to do about?)

Green engineering and cradle-to-cradle design should stop the cycle of perpetuating environmental inequalities. But what happens to Tullytown after the waste stops coming?

‘Tis a Time for Reflections: Gasland and Emotional Engagement

Seong Im Hong

November 26, 2012

‘Tis a Time for Reflections: Gasland and Emotional Engagement

            I missed class on Monday before Thanksgiving due to oversleeping, so wasn’t sure what to write about. Hence, on Thanksgiving after dinner, I watched Gasland by Josh Fox, the documentary that was mentioned while we were talking about hydrofracking. It was a bit long but definitely fascinating and powerful. (Robin, my foster mom, found the documentary so convincing that she got up midway through to shut off our gas-operated fireplace.) Looking back, there were many things that made this movie powerful—the visuals were striking, as was the narrative the director used to give the documentary a sense of flow and purpose.

One of the most powerful effects, however, was the use of personal stories. There was story of a woman whose father died of Pancreatic cancer after he spent a whole summer drinking from a contaminated spring. (The companies told them of the contamination months after it actually happened.) There were stories of towns across America that complained of water contaminated enough to be flammable and allegedly be harmful to people, causing migraines and dizziness. Of course, correlation does not equal causation. Maybe those maladies were incidental and/or were actually caused by the nocebo effect, kind of like the so-called Wind Turbine Syndrome. But the flammable water, at least, is an indicator that these complaints ought to be taken seriously.

By emotionally engaging the viewers, Fox definitely helped to put this issue on the table. With this documentary, he helped to redistribute this concern toward hydrofracking from the bourgeoisie New Yorkers (I’m still hung up on the implications of that Mark Ruffalo video, sorry!) to all Americans, whether they are celebrities in New York or they are those strapped for jobs in Nevada. As the film says toward the very end, my land is your land through the intricate network of streams and rivers that connect us all to each other. Even if I lease my parcel of land to hydrofracking, we are still affecting those who live outside those arbitrary boundaries.

And this (not your land is our land thing, but the whole emotional engagement bit the paragraph before) made me think: the greatest thing I learned from this class is to be less skeptical and a bit more engaged.

I remember that in the very first journal, I criticized Professor’s choice in comparing McDonald’s burger to rainforest after showing us the nasty vomit clip from Supersize Me. I still think that was a very deliberate emotional engagement/manipulation, but I understand now that if we think of the first lesson as part of an arc rather than an isolated class, the comparison was an effective “hook”. How else do you engage a class of 20-or-so 20-or-so-year-olds and leave a lasting impact with a required seminar class? Obviously, I didn’t have the benefit of hindsight then, so in the very beginning, I was a bit miffed by the emotional aspect of the lessons. (Oh Professor, could you ever forgive me for such sins?)

I can think of various moments throughout this year when I realized my growing tolerance/acceptance of emotional engagement. (I don’t know why I had so much trouble accepting the role of emotion. I suspect, though, this may be a result of my search for an identity. The easiest way to be something is to NOT be the opposite. In this case, I may have mistakenly thought emotional engagement the opposite of logic. But I’m not sure if they are truly opposites. And even if they are, they are better served together than separately.)

For example, I read the New York Times feature on Rachel Carson a couple of months ago. I remember reading this paragraph:

Carson knew that her target audience of popular readers included scores of housewives. She relied upon this ready army of concerned citizens both as sources who discovered robins and squirrels poisoned by pesticides outside their back doors and as readers to whom she had to appeal. Consider this indelible image of a squirrel: “The head and neck were outstretched, and the mouth often contained dirt, suggesting that the dying animal had been biting at the ground.” Carson then asks her readers, “By acquiescing in an act that causes such suffering to a living creature, who among us is not diminished as a human being?”

I think if I were reading this same paragraph a semester ago, I would have responded with distaste. Pshaw, I would’ve thought, emotions are cheap tools!

When I read it a couple of months ago, though, I was surprisingly more tolerant to the slightly purple hue to Carson’s prose. Emotions may be common tools, but they certainly don’t have to be cheap when it’s tempered by facts.

And, I think, this is the greatest and most lasting lesson I will take from this class so far. I may forget what RCRA stands for in another decade[*], but I doubt I will forget the value of emotional engagement any time soon.


[*]  Just kidding—Resource Conservation and Recovery Act, 1976!

Getting the Last Word: Debate about the Debate Assignment

Seong Im Hong

Nov 19, 2012

Getting the Last Word: Debate about the Debate Assignment

            Call me petty, but I want to get the last word in on the debate about the debate assignment. (And even if Demetra never hears this argument somebody else would know.)

Taxing residential areas a “green tax” is great, but this is a flawed system based solely on the whip. To have an effective system of encouraging citizens to be more environmentally conscious, policy makers should employ both the whip and the carrot. It sounded to me that the “whip,” or the tax, would hit families equally as hard regardless of how good they are about their energy. If this is so, the policy makers should consider their goal: is it to raise tax revenue for investment in green energy, or to herald a shift in the citizens’ habits that may continue even after a total shift to green, renewable energy?

With just the tax in effect, there is nothing stopping the citizens from changing their energy usage habits to be more conservative. What if there are tax cuts offered to those who consume less than the district’s average energy consumption? That way, citizens who do not feel like they can afford the tax can take control of their home to reduce their energy consumption. (They can, for example, unplug their appliances when they are not in use.)

(I italicized “take control of their homes” because I think this is a key step to developing green habits: I think citizens have a sort of… learned helplessness, almost, when it comes to dealing with issues that are bigger than any single one of us can handle. I talked about this before when I was trying to make sense of the Andy Kushner quote, but I think the idea is relevant again: we have learned to seek freedom from responsibility in perceived helplessness in the face of giant organizations and giant problems like ridiculous campaign bills, banks’ reckless behaviors, and global warming. Companies have been consolidating for years and years to the point that we as individuals cannot help but feel small and insignificant when we stare at their true size. We have become removed from corporations and large organizations (the U.S. government included, I suppose) to the point that we really ought to have corporation-money-units to help us fathom how much exponentially bigger everything is. And instead of demanding to have a say in how our society is run, we just shrug and say, “Oh well,” probably because we’re not really in any discomfort. Yet.)

Of course, employing the whip and the carrot to encourage taking control over what comes up to be the grand total of $5 tax per year isn’t going to change the world. Like Demetra said, there won’t be a paradigm shift—if people chose to unplug their appliances, it will be to pay less rather than out of actual concern for the environment. I agree with that. However, can that small change in attitude (a perception of control) change anything if there are many of these perception shifts? I think it maybe, maybe, maybe can, and here’s why:

(I’m about to get a bit radical and theoretical. Bear with me.)

There is a term, microaggression, to describe commonplace act of aggressions that act to subtly put down/subjugate a group of people. Microaggression can have a tinge of racism (i.e. “I can’t believe you’re black! You act like a normal person!”) or sexism (i.e. “Get back in the kitchen and make me a sandwich! Haha, this is totally a joke!”) or homophobia (i.e. “I can’t be homophobic! One of my best friends is gay!”).

I think microaggression can extend to non –isms and –phobias. I think that how we react to the world is effected by what we expect out of it from past experiences. And this sounds crazy, but Messianic Moments are supposed to be kind of crazy: maybe supporting a culture of some level of personal control over large institutions (like the IRS) can lead to a more proactive culture.

Wow, that sounded kind of libertarian, too.

Obviously, we do need taxes to support large institutions (i.e. EPA) whose full-time job is to combat other large institutions (i.e. Exxon-Mobil). But we also need to remember that we as a collective are employing those large institutions. But how do we draw the line between personal control/choice and sacrificing for the greater good? Obviously, we can get the two to meet by educating people about why, for example, global warming is bad. But that will take time. Generations, even. So how what do we do meanwhile? I don’t know.

(And that is why I want to be a doctor/scientist, not a policy maker.)

Sexy Celebrities verses Sexy Scientists

Seong Im Hong

November 12, 2012

Sexy Celebrities verses Sexy Scientists

            I thought about the three videos we were shown in class. There was the objective video, the pro-fracking video, and the anti-fracking video. We in class analyzed and criticized the pro-fracking video quite a bit, but I don’t think we looked at the anti-fracking video starring Mark Ruffalo critically enough.

I’m not disputing that he’s a knowledgeable source—I trust Professor Alexandratos to give us legitimate information—but it still stands that he is introduced as an “Actor and Director” rather than “Geologist” like that lady from pro-fracking video was. He is, despite what he knows, still a celebrity rather than a scientist. That made me ponder why exactly that foundation chose Mark Ruffalo as a spokesperson. I think the anti-fracking foundation that produced and funded that video was probably more concerned about popular opinion than introducing scientific facts into the debate. Which is, I suppose, fine, given that it’s not a news source, and hence is not morally and ethically obligated to give a fair and unbalanced opinion on the topic of fracking. And this is probably a smart move by the foundation, considering that his fans, which probably exponentially increased with the Avengers movie in which he starred as the Hulk, would be more interested in fracking and how to stop it.

On the another hand, the fact that us New Yorkers have a celebrity to speak for us will make it so much easier for the opposition to delegitimize the cause of anti-fracking. We make fun of the pro-fracking video actors for being blue-collar workers from Culture Vacuum, Middle of Nowhere, but the ridicule goes both ways, too. If we look at the anti-fracking videos with a critical/hostile eye, we can easily dismiss the impassioned speech by a celebrity as quintessential of New York City—a place of superficiality and opulence where people aren’t concerned about blue-collared workers or “making America great again”. (Though, hey, at least we’re not LA.)

I think this kind of appeal to a small segment of Americans (New Yorkers, probably not blue-collar workers, fans of Mark Ruffalo) only cause polarization. It won’t sway significant amount of people who already aren’t aligned already. Rather, it will only cement the conviction or the distaste of the demographics that already have an opinion on banning fracking.

Additionally, just the fact that we have celebrity spokespeople for environmental issues kind of doesn’t sit well with me. To illustrate, I will quote yet anther celebrity hunk, Joseph Gordon-Levitt: “The whole concept of celebrity pisses me off. While I’m not a celebrity, it’s such a weird concept that society has cooked up for us. Astronauts and teachers are much more amazing than actors.”

I dislike that we as a society have to rely on people whose talents lie far away from science to sway popular opinions on public policies that must be based on science. I suppose it’s only natural that, to sway popular opinion, we should have someone that the viewers are already familiar with (and hence more likely to have a favorable opinion of, by the way of Meer Exposure Effect) and want to identify with (i.e. attractive). And I get that, I do, that celebrities-as-spokespeople work well for all kinds of organizations. But why can’t we have scientists-who-are-celebrities-as-spokespeople? Why can’t we, as a society, celebrate science and reason to the point that we have non-quack scientists speaking regularly on TV? And I don’t think it’s that scientists aren’t hot enough to appeal to the masses. We scientists are all ugly geeks/nerds that the popular media portrays us to be. There are plenty of sexy geek/nerds who can appeal to the general population AND have solid credentials that will make them a respectable voice in the discourse instead of target for ridicule/stereotyping.

Sandy, Katrina, Global Warming

Seong Im Hong

November 5, 2012

Sandy, Katrina, Global Warming

I don’t know if global warming caused Sandy— doubtlessly, this will be discussed in detail later in the course—but we do know that storm surge, or, storm pushing roiling ocean waters onto land, is exacerbated by the rising water levels. (NYT, “Are Humans to Blame? Science Is Out”) The water caused unbelievable damages. On Sunday afternoon, I packed the barest amount of clothes and my laptop, believing that the evacuation would last for a day, just as it did last year when Hurricane Irene caused evacuation around the dorms. After the storm, however, I found myself stranded in Long Island for more than a week without power. When I walked around, I saw trees uprooted in front of houses and branches poking through windows like an arrow through a torso. I read about the damages done in lower Manhattan and Staten Island. One of fellow Macaulay scholar lost his childhood home.

For long we have said time and time again that Global Warming is a long-term problem that is often left on the back burner. But with Hurricane Sandy, can Global Warming be brought to the center of the political discourse? Hurricane Katrina didn’t do much to bring global warming to the table, as far as I can tell, but it also didn’t hit a politically powerful area like New York City, and certainly not during a volatile period like now, right before the elections. Already, I see op-eds linking Global Warming with the damages due to Hurricane Sandy and possibly to the hurricane itself.

(And of course, FOX denies Global Warming, as usual.)

But besides wondering what we could do and what could happen as a result: we already know what we can do to prevent a future disaster like this from happening. Greenhouse gases are doubtlessly causing the oceans to rise by melting glaciers. Yet, we have ways to deal with greenhouse gases—according to study “Recovery of Methane from Gas Hydrate Intercalated within Natural Sediments Using CO2 and a CO2/N2 Gas Mixture,” for example, we can sequester greenhouse gases by using it to dehydrate Methane Hydrates. This is also a valorization/green engineering process, in which we use unwanted byproduct to our activities as a source for valuable energy source (methane). I’m not sure if this process itself is financially viable, but it’s a start. Surely with enough money pumped in the research, we can fine-tune this process to produce not only energy but also reduce greenhouse gases and prevent further tragedies like flooding due to storm surges.

On October 4th, we talked in class about Mayor’s Advisory Panel on climate change. In 2009, the panel announced that with global climate change, there will be more intense rainstorm that lead to flooding. The last bullet point I wrote under the topic is this:

  • Flooding (lower Manhattan).

When I wrote those words down, it was probably with a sense of boredom and detachment. Well, yes, flooding will happen. Ocean levels will rise, and when storms come and go, the waters will get to land more easily. That makes sense.

Until this week, I had not realized how bad a flood could be. I am used to the comforts of modern life, including electricity and Internet on demand and mobility powered by the city’s electricity and MTA. Storm-related tragedies (nor inconveniences, but actual “I-lost-my-house” tragedies) were a thing of fiction, much like doomsday predictions of crazy preachers or the film The Day After Tomorrow. It is not anymore. It probably isn’t to many New Yorkers anymore.

We already had a taste of what would happen if we let greenhouse gases pollution go unchecked. It is up to us to decide what to do with this knowledge. I hope that we do the right thing.

Green Engineering

Seong Im Hong

October 22, 2012

Weekly Journal 7

This week, we mostly learned through the required reading on Green Engineering due to the midterm and group project problem. (Sorry.) I found that Green Engineering paper actually connected pretty well into the themes we have explored in the class. For example, the need for an ideological change to the way we approach the environment was pretty clear in the reading. This is similar to how the MHC 200 class began with discussion of philosophy regarding the environment. Additionally, small parts of the paper (like Nike and Ford’s Model U) reminded me of the previous discussions we had about the responsibility of the consumers as well as the manufacturers and the government.

The Green Engineering paper started off by saying that inherent, ideological changes were necessary when it came to green engineering. According to the paper, there is the traditional way of being green (fixing what is already there, kind of like the “reuse, reduce, recycle” mantra of “pollution prevention”) and the new, radical way of being green (changing the system by creating a closed loop system). I agree that there is a need for radical change in thinking about the role of environment.

For example, the phrase “designers need to strive to ensure that all material and energy inputs and outputs are as inherently on-hazardous as possible” from the reading can take multiple meaning based on the kind of philosophy the reader subscribes to. “Non-hazardous” to whom? What if the output is a non-hazardous but yet un-reusable item? Those subscribing to the cradle-to-grave might be okay with accumulation of output items that are inert yet unusable. But cradle-to-cradle engineers would be wondering (or should be) what they can do with the output and whether this process gives enough benefit to warrant using a yet unusable output. The same sentence can mean worlds of different things according to the reader’s mindset. Hence, it makes sense to talk about philosophy first, as we did in class, because “working smart without perspective or guiding principles can ultimately become an efficient pursuit of the wrong goals.”

Another part of the paper that I found interesting was the phrase about PVC: PVC is “sent to landfills, incinerated, or recycled into products of lesser value”. I found it interesting initially because recycling (something generally considered Very Good for Environment) is listed with what is generally thought to be Very Bad for Environment—landfills and incineration. However, with more careful reading, I realized that recycling into products of lesser value is also bad—not Very Bad, but maybe Pretty Bad because it won’t close the loop completely. There will always be a need for more raw materials with that kind of recycling. Therefore, I found the fact that I did a double-take interesting because I realized that I never think about what happens to things I recycle, or what it means when things are advertised to be “recyclable”. “Recyclable” is a vague r-word that, when seen, is good and will raise my opinions on the product without actually having to follow through its actual value. It’s clever marketing, I suppose, and will increase the demand for recyclable things, but it doesn’t really make the consumer more engaged or knowledgeable. This kind of marketing (“buy this because it’s labeled green!”) really hinges on the consumer feeling better about themselves more than actual change.

I also found it interesting that Nike had some positive PR regarding its PVC use fade-out. However, it’s also worth noting that we just had a talk about Nike’s blatant human rights abuse. It’s good that they’re doing something for the environment, but what’s their end goal? Are they truly subscribing to C-to-C philosophy and/or the Triple Bottom Line philosophy, or did they need some positive PR, or mix of both? Is there truly a mix of both, or does C-to-C philosophy require environmentalism for the sake of environmentalism? I think it’s the latter, but I guess credit should be given where it’s due to encourage corporations to do what’s right. Or do they expect us to like them better, and are planning on something bad/continuing to do something bad to offset whatever positive PR they get? Am I turning into a conspiracy theorist?

The Opiate of Freedom and Trying

Seong Im Hong

October 29, 2012

The Opiate of Freedom and Trying

“Freedom doesn’t let you off the hook, and failing doesn’t mean you’re not responsible for trying.” – Tony Kushner

            Freedom is a slippery thing. It seems to be a masturbatory word for politicians to scream at the frenzied masses that are drunk on their own idea of freedom. We talk about freedom so much in our country—our very political discourse hinges upon freedom and how much is too much. In this class, we mention again and again the conflict between market freedom verses government regulation. Freedom, we think, is an inalienable right. But freedom exists because the opposite (or lack thereof) exists—servitude, constriction, and limitations. So when we talk about freedom in rallies, what do we want freedom from?

Religion is an opiate, someone said, but so are love and freedom, and much and more things. Freedom is great, sure, but is it really? We talk about freedom from The Man, freedom from taxation, freedom from oppression, and it seems that “freedom” is too big of a concept to be truly used in a useful way without plentiful context and modifiers.

And I think that’s our great fallacy. Freedom is what we Americans love to think as the quintessential American ideal that we forget that all freedom all the time isn’t all it’s stoked up to be. Freedom by itself is dangerous, because it makes us drunk on our sense of self-righteousness and exceptionalism and other things that make us complacent when things that are obviously Not Okay happen. In terms of our class, for example, when companies violate environmental standards, or edge close to violating the environmental standards, some of us think, “Well, it’s their right as businesses to gain a competitive edge over others. Let the free market decide.” But in this case, what is the business free from?

Too often, we want freedom from responsibilities.

But as Kushner said, “freedom doesn’t let you off the hook.” Freedom shouldn’t mean freedom from responsibilities. And we all have responsibilities, from personal responsibilities (to do right by self), to familiar responsibilities (to take care of aging parents in future, perhaps), to environmental responsibilities (to aim for sustainability). And yes, it sucks to have responsibilities. That’s why we procrastinate or drink or do any number of things to avoid, avoid, avoid what we must to in favor of what we want to do. But that’s not how life works, and that’s not how it ought to work, either. Sometimes, selfishness is under the guise of freedom.

Selfishness also comes under the guise of “trying”

The second part of Kushner’s quote is much harder to understand. Too often, we are faced with forces larger than ourselves. Life, death, love, you name it. When we are trying to face environmentalism, too, we are faced with forces larger than ourselves, though they are often of our own making. Global corporations, for example, are too great for individuals to truly effect. At least, that’s what we tell ourselves while we buy their sneakers, their seafood, and their smartphones. It’s with a mixture of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” mentality and “oh well” mentality that we continue to patronize these companies that we know, as surely as we know any other things, that pollute and exploit. We might even try buying locally or from alternative sources before we realize ethical doesn’t mean economical and our pockets aren’t as deep as the corporations’. Oh, well, we tried, we think. But sometimes, when it comes to important things, failing doesn’t mean you should cease to try. Not all of us can afford to shop at Whole Foods all the time. (Actually, if you go to Hunter, you probably can’t, period.) But we can surely try to influence others, or look for alternatives or go out of our way to buy better.

(For the record—I have a problem with how sweepingly broad Kushner’s claim about responsibility is. There are things we can’t and shouldn’t fix or change in life. Sometimes failing means that you have to let go of others.)

Koyaanisqatsi: A Wordless, Infatomable Critique

Seong Im Hong

October 29, 2012

Koyaanisqatsi: A Wordless, Infatomable Critique

Koyaanisqatsi is a wordless critique of the “out of balance” modern life that utilizes slow motion and time-lapse images of nature and man-made phenomena as well as repetitive sound track. Its wordlessness is both refreshing and frustrating to behold, since most environmentally focused movies tend to be stock-full of statistics. However, the fact that the film is obviously attempting to emotionally engage the viewers, it is frustrating to be left without concrete facts to convince the viewers that the images of excess and destructions that the director has selected is, in fact, a good representation of the modern world.

Koyaanisqatsi begins with what is presumably an ancient Hopi pictogram of dark figures surrounding a taller figure. This image is introduced with a slow repetitive chanting of the word “Koyaanisqatsi.” Given that Koyaanisqatsi means “life out of balance” or “a state of life that calls for another way of living”, it is reasonable to assume that the pictograms were used to forge a popular connection between Native Americans and environmentalism, which seems to have gone hand-in-hand since the Crying Chief commercials. (Never mind the pop culture understanding of Native Americans being entirely harmonious with Mother Earth is problematic in its fetishistic romanticizing of an utopian past that may or may not have existed as we imagine it to be.) This pictogram is revisited at the very end of the film, perhaps as a reminder of what should be.

Then, the viewers are introduced to panoramic shots of natural landscape of what seems to be the New Mexican desert set to a foreboding music that is chant-like in its repetition of a single note over and over and over again. Soon, majestic horns are introduced as the viewers see clouds and waves that are of vast magnitudes, showing nature to be gigantic, grand, and magnificent. At this point, I started to feel my thoughts wander as I longed for the sound of human voice that could provide meaning to these shots. Perhaps I would have enjoyed the video more if I were used to the grainy color of the video, but to the modern audience who are used to HD documentaries, the panoramic shots seem substandard and outdated rather than awe-inspiring.

Despite how badly the video has aged, however, it is obvious that the director was skillful in manipulating the human emotion. To me, at least, this was the most interesting part of the documentary. After shots of jagged nature, we are introduced to fast panning over a colorful field that seems unnatural and striking in its geometry. Meanwhile, the sound track speeds up to amplify a sense of inevitable and potentially horrible change. We are then introduced to shots of man-made explosion that disturb the soils and trees as if to be reminded of what is the cost of geometric orderly fields: disturbing the earth’s equilibrium.

The video continues to show man-made structures in close-up shots to a truck that is obscured by black smoke. Meanwhile, the music takes on a darker tone as it introduces low-key instruments. Then, we are introduced to extensive piping and other man-made structures that now block the panoramic views of nature that we had in the very beginning of the film. One shot that stands out in particular is the aerial view of reservoirs near a factory. The complementary color contrast of the orange desert against the blue water as well as the highly ordered edges of the water reservoirs are jarring and striking.

We are then shown humans going about in their modern life. We are shown Broadway, Park Avenue, and Grand Central, which seem to be the quintessence of the modern life. People are packed into small spaces while they litter without care. We are shown bright glittering lights of time-lapsed videos of highways and dance floors. Stimulating images bombards us. We are shown Twinkie factories and poverty and Wall Street, until we finally focus back on the pictogram we were shown before. When we were shown humans for the first time, I found that I had snapped back to attentiveness. (Until, of course, the repetitive music and images made my attentions eventually wander again.)

Call it anthropocentrism or call it practicality, but I was getting bored of seeing the effects that breaking the equilibrium had on nature. What about me? I thought. This moment, to me, accentuated how hard paradigm shifts can be. I had been in MHC 200 seminar for two months now, yet I still feel myself apathetic to solely environment-focused environmentalism. Yes, I know that breaking the earth’s equilibrium must surely have a negative effect on us in the long run. However, unless I am confronted with a reason why I should care (because it effects me), I still find myself bored. I am not sure if this is a bad thing, however. I would still care if I had a specific change to fear, rather than a general “things will change for the worse” fear. Maybe in this case, what could be gained from caring about a vague change (but not having enough information to do anything about it) is not as much as what could be gained from not caring and going about my merry way.

This brings me to another problem I have with this documentary besides the painfully grainy colors: its emotional engagement without education. The fact that the filmmaker decided to start the documentary off with pure untouched nature and then proceeded in showing us the ugliest of human buildings (because really, oil rigs aren’t built for aestheticism) with a side of anxiety-provoking foreboding music as well as prolonged shots of The Challenger disaster makes it clear that he is trying to emotionally engage the viewers. Emotional engagement, as I’ve discussed with Professor Alexandratos before, is not bad in and of itself. Emotional engagement without education, however, is unethical. For example, the filmmaker decided to paint the modern life in unflattering light by showing demolitions, poverty, and aging rather than vaccinations, the increased middle class, and healthier, longer lives that almost everyone enjoys. However, he never bothered to tell us how common those signs of life of moral corruption (Koyaanisqatsi) are. Have they increased or decreased over the decade? What are their effects on the environment? I am unsure if the filmmaker assumed to be presenting in front of the educated audience who were already well schooled on the issue of environmentalism and the effect of modern lifestyle on earth. If not, is it ethical to show the general public this kind of image (a cherry-picking of degenerations of the modern life) without any facts to salt the emotional message with?

Perhaps the assumption is that with a strong enough emotional engagement like Koyaanisqatsi, the public will actively seek out facts pertaining to environmentalism. However, that puts much weight on the public’s proactiveness. I would not be surprised if the public walks out of the theater with the vague idea that “our way of life = bad” without any incentive to change their ways. Besides, we all know that modern life is horrible for the environment. This is a message that we’ve heard multiple times from multiple authorities over and over again. Maybe it was not a common knowledge in the 1980s, but at this point in our society, we don’t need another preachy film. What we need is an instructional film that, rather than simply showing what is wrong, shows what should be done and what could be if the things that should be done were actually done.

 

Week 6 – almost as ubiquitous as Hollister is among frat boys

Weekly Journal 6

            This week, we talked about the policies part of the arch. (About time, methinks, because it was getting so gloomy and sad in MHC 200.) One of the things that struck out to me the most were the clips of the Nike sneaker sweat shops and Guyanese independent gold miners, and what little we could do about it. We could boycott whichever companies generating the most negative PR, but what of it? Other companies do it, too. There is no ideological change caused, and I doubt anything would come of boycotting a single company, even when people stick to it.

This reminded me of Naes’ Deep Ecology. Shallow Ecology is environmental ethics for the benefit of the affluent few, while Deep Ecology is for all living things. Perhaps this distinction could be made for human right, as well. I brought up a point in class that I want to elaborate on—that whatever we do as consumers will probably have no effect on the large-scale operation of corporations, and whatever we do is really to clean up the blood on our hands than to actually help these people.

For example: the blood diamonds. Professor Alexandratos said that we now are going for diamonds from reputable sources because of the negative PR it generated. But what of it? We’re merely treating what we the consumers chose rather than what the laborers do. It’s similar to end-of-pipe treatment: there is no radical change in the manufacturing process. (In this case, manufacturing process refers to the actual process as well as the conditions that brought on these manufacturing to the struggling people.) If we truly cared about the poor people laboring, dying, and poisoning themselves to meet our demand for gold and drapes and fineries, we would be trying to change the societies themselves rather than what comes out of it.

Some people argue that well, without the jobs we are providing for them, they are in a bad place without a job rather than a bad place with a job. Some people argue that they don’t want this kind of blood on their (gold-ringed) hands, and would rather not buy from the poor independent workers. And then they leave it at that. I suppose the first group of people is worse (since they don’t seem to extend empathy toward other humans very well), but the second kind of people isn’t helping, either. They’re merely removing themselves from the problem.

Well, fine, yes. They can shift the gold and diamond and garment industry, but only by consolidating the workers under a brand they can trust. But are they willing to pay the extra costs of having middlemen and humanely treated team of workers? I don’t plan on holding the breath for any corporations to cut into their exorbitant profits to keep the prices reasonable for the buyers. Look at the brands that sell a worsted t-shirt labeled “US Made” and “sweatshop-free” for $30. I’m sure they can cut into profits and make their clothes slightly more reasonable. But they won’t, because of the nature of the organizations. (Unless we go for an industry-wide boycott—but we discussed in class how that’s hard to do.)

(I also have a thought I’ve yet to fully form– perhaps “good-for-you-workers-and-environment” brands don’t want to lower costs partly because of the “brand image” they’re trying to sell. I think environmentalism and philanthropy became a mark of the affluent somehow, especially among the wealthy liberal college-educated crowd. I think that’s why people living near TriBeCa shop at Whole Foods and go for organic food chains named “Organique”. It’s a mark of who they are, how caring they are despite their privileges. Will they be so willing to buy worsted t-shirt labeled “US Made” and “sweatshop-free” if it became so cheap that, say, the middle-aged woman from Harlem with empty gaps in her smile could afford it? What if it’s so cheap that it’s become ubiquitous in poor parts of NYC, almost as ubiquitous as Hollister is among frat boys? It’s an exaggeration, for the sake of making a point, but still. I wonder.)

Weekly Journal 5

Seong Im Hong

October 10, 2012

Weekly Journal 5

            First off— a correction to the calculations I did regarding Exxon Mobil’s fines. $11.2 million was 0.28% of the $40 billion profit. When I calculated that I would lose $0.16 from my scholarships, I accounted for all income rather than just profit. Given that I have about $200 left over every month, I would lose $0.06 rather than $0.16 each month if I were fined similarly to how Exxon was fined. Similarly, when I proposed that Exxon’s fines be $11.2 billion rather than $11.2 million, I said that the loss is analogous to loss of $160 per month for my incomes. I also did a faulty calculation here, since I accounted for all income rather than profit ($200). Hence, I would actually lose $60 a month given how much I save every month. It’s not as nearly impressive as losing $160 per month, but it’s still $60 a month. So I’d have to eat ramen noodles every other day during the weekdays rather than every day. (Also, Professor, you can definitely use these figures for the future.) Sorry.

Now—back to talking about how the classes made me smarter.

I don’t think I truly realized how big and important the ocean is.

Well, yes, knew that ocean was a heat sink and had a great diversity and a source of delicious food, but knowing that it’s simply impossible to try to affect the acidity of the ocean by adding some strong base in there due to its sheer size made me do a double-take and realize, woah, the ocean is pretty big. It’s a bit funny how we don’t think much of the ocean, because it’s uninhabitable for humans and not many exciting things go on there. But it still plays a vital role in the earth’s equilibrium.

(This actually reminded me of other flaws in perception that we have. For example, I had to look at a map of comparative size of Africa to other countries to realize how big it was as a continent. Because we don’t think about Africa too often, we diminish its size in our minds. It’s probably eurocentrism at play, considering how Europe looks so big in maps when, in reality, it’s pretty tiny, especially compared to Africa. I suppose anthrocentricism worked the same way with regards to the oceans.)

Another thing I thought about with regards to global warming is blackouts and brownouts. I remember how impossible it was to sleep during this summer when I stayed in the dorms (where there were no air conditioners) and I can’t imagine blackouts happening regularly. But we run into a dilemma of cost v. risk. Individuals have desire to sleep soundly during hot summer nights, and air conditioners make the room cooler as well as less damp, which fans aren’t able to do. Therefore, though fans aren’t nearly as energy consuming as air conditioners, they’re not nearly as used as much. But who will use fans on hot 100’F night when they can easily say, “well, someone else would use a fan,” or, “the power plant can handle it”?

What can we do to cut down on energy costs? Should we go by the way of regulations and make sure all air conditioners have a certain upper limit on the energy they use? Should we have an automatic timer that lets people use air conditioners for, say, 4 hours at a time? Is it an invasion of privacy? It seems a bit Big Brother, but people can’t be very well expected to get up in the middle of the night to turn off or down their air conditioner. (I am assuming that by the middle of the night, the room will be sufficiently chilled enough to be comfortable in with good insulation from the heat outside.) One of the biggest discourses we have as a country is on choices. We are supposed to be land of the free, but there are certain freedoms that are actively restricted, such as acts that restrict others’ rights as people. I suppose the only way to perhaps clamp down on the energy spending is to either convince people that turning off the air conditioners are a good idea (which everyone knows, just doesn’t follow) or to turn it off for them. I don’t really know what to think about this, but my pessimism bleeds into my thoughts. I wouldn’t trust people to turn off their air conditioners—heck, I wouldn’t trust myself to turn off my air conditioner at night. And additional features such as timers will probably cost money to put in. I bet that anyone would rather buy a less green air conditioner if that means it’s cheaper. I guess it really comes down to whether we see the relatively distant threat of energy crisis as a threat immediate enough to act on.

 

Comments by Seong