Sometimes, if I’m paying attention, I get to see small glimpses of our future. They are always fleeting and soon gone, but I see them, sometimes at the outer edge of my vision. And maybe that’s how the future arrives: in bits and pieces, a little at a time, starting out around the edges.
I open the garage door and walk outside on a Sunday morning around sun-up. No traffic on Lake Avenue. No planes in the sky. Not a single unnatural noise. It is, for just a very short time before the world of man wakes up, a silent world without oil. Very nice.
The pump nozzles are bagged - the universal sign of “No Gas”. There are a dozen different reasons why that may be, but there it is: A gasless gas station, and maybe for a day or so, a glimpse of our future. Contrary to popular belief, I do not smile at this.
I stop to watch a group of cyclists pass me headed south to the park. They are not bike racers, just everyday people on everyday bikes, out for a ride. I like that. I expect to see more of that in the future. I do see more people riding with shopping bags these days, both empty and full, doing their errands a la velo. I like that a lot.
There in the grocery store - that fellow with bands around his pant cuffs, wearing fingerless cycling gloves and a bike helmet, with a backpack for the groceries. Oh, wait - that’s me. Well, it’s still a glimpse of the future for all of us, if we’re lucky.
I’ve been pleasantly surprised that my little oil book, Peak of the Devil, hasn’t caught more flack than it has for being an overly-optimistic (and overly simplistic) look at what must surely be our very bleak future. I tried to make it as ungrim as I could, considering how very grim it may turn out to be. And I do like the idea of us maybe being able to get by on much less than we have now - and maybe our lives will be better for it. But we need to start now.
We each need to understand what it is that we do that we won’t be doing later. That conspicuous consumption brought on by presumptive entitlement (didn’t know I knew the big words, did ya?) is going to hang like a rotting albatross around the necks of people too stubborn to adapt. You need to know this: It’s going to change. Be a good scout. Be prepared. Be prepared before you have to be prepared.
This past weekend, I hosted a Tweed Ride for my 60th Birthday. We rode our vintage English three-speeds out to the Safety Harbor Spa for tea and crumpets. Pinkies out. I had knickers made for the occasion. I wore a bow tie and a jaunty cap. And if this humble little ride is a glimpse of what is to come, of a world with less oil, then our future might not be quite so unpleasant as many, myself included, would have you believe. Next week we'll do it again in St. Pete.
Keep your bike tires pumped.
Showing posts with label oil-free. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oil-free. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
WikiLeaks Exposes Peak Oil Reality
Oh, geez, Lousie: Here we go. WikiLeaks just pulled the rug out from under the Saudis by publishing the contents of some cables about their oil production — and the fragility thereof. The potential lack thereof. Where have I heard this before? Let me think . . . Oh, yeah, just about everywhere. For years. The only difference is, this comes from the Kingdom itself. This is not good. This is bad, even. Very, very bad.
Look, it’s one thing for a guy like me to sit on the other side of the world and speculate on what might be happening, oil-wise, in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula. I’m speculating. That’s a nice word for guessing. I’m making it all up. But as it turns out, I was guessing right. So were a lot of other people, as it turns out. Everyone but the Saudis, it seems. For years (for decades), the Saudis have stood there and smiled and said there were no problems. Everything is fine. Don’t worry. Be happy. And for all of those years, we bought the act. We wanted to buy the act. We had to buy the act.
Back in 2001, I wrote Ghawar is Dying, a short essay for The New Colonist web site, outlining how the beginning of the end might, well, begin. I caught some flak from oil types for it. They wanted to know how I gained access to the restricted oil fields in the middle of the Saudi desert. They were not happy, and I don’t think they believed me when I said I’d never been there. I made the whole thing up, but as it turns out, I think I might have been right. And that was ten years ago.
In 2004 I wrote Sixty Days Next Year, also for my good friends over at The New Colonist. The fictitious events in “60 Days” have yet to come true, but the headlines of the past few weeks out of Egypt show that all things are possible in a great big hurry, and those 60 days could start tomorrow. Please, just remember: I was never there and it’s not my fault. Seriously. It was supposed to be fiction.
If the cables exposed by WikiLeaks portend events yet to come, as in coming soon, we are all in for a wild, wild ride. If the Saudis can’t smooth this one over, we are staring the great peak oil monster right in the face; and buddy, whatever you do, don’t blink. If the Saudis admit they are facing peak oil production, we may see the price of oil rise like a bottle rocket. I remember the Arab Oil Embargo of 1973. The loss of just 5% of the world’s oil supply caused the price of oil to quadruple. Quadruple. With oil bouncing around $90 when I checked it the other day, are you ready for $360 oil? No. No you aren’t. No one is.
Best case scenario: The Saudis do what the Saudis do better than anyone else on earth: They smooth it over. They schmooze. They smile and talk their way out of it. And in all honest, I do sincerely hope they can. Worst case scenario: Gasoline in the United States goes to over $10 a gallon in very short order, and is rationed like you wouldn’t believe. I remember the gas lines in ’73. I drove a VW back then, so it was no big deal. This time around, it will be different. It won’t be a four-month political event. It will be permanent.
My advice to you: If you don’t have a good, practical bicycle, go buy one, and soon. If you do have a bicycle, go buy baskets for it, fenders, a good lock and some lights. And buy a bicycle helmet, rain cape and cycling gloves while you’re at it. You are going to want all of that, and very soon. I hope I’m wrong. I hope the Saudis can schmooze their way out of this one, as they have in the past. But if they can’t?
Welcome to our brave new world. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Look, it’s one thing for a guy like me to sit on the other side of the world and speculate on what might be happening, oil-wise, in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula. I’m speculating. That’s a nice word for guessing. I’m making it all up. But as it turns out, I was guessing right. So were a lot of other people, as it turns out. Everyone but the Saudis, it seems. For years (for decades), the Saudis have stood there and smiled and said there were no problems. Everything is fine. Don’t worry. Be happy. And for all of those years, we bought the act. We wanted to buy the act. We had to buy the act.
Back in 2001, I wrote Ghawar is Dying, a short essay for The New Colonist web site, outlining how the beginning of the end might, well, begin. I caught some flak from oil types for it. They wanted to know how I gained access to the restricted oil fields in the middle of the Saudi desert. They were not happy, and I don’t think they believed me when I said I’d never been there. I made the whole thing up, but as it turns out, I think I might have been right. And that was ten years ago.
In 2004 I wrote Sixty Days Next Year, also for my good friends over at The New Colonist. The fictitious events in “60 Days” have yet to come true, but the headlines of the past few weeks out of Egypt show that all things are possible in a great big hurry, and those 60 days could start tomorrow. Please, just remember: I was never there and it’s not my fault. Seriously. It was supposed to be fiction.
If the cables exposed by WikiLeaks portend events yet to come, as in coming soon, we are all in for a wild, wild ride. If the Saudis can’t smooth this one over, we are staring the great peak oil monster right in the face; and buddy, whatever you do, don’t blink. If the Saudis admit they are facing peak oil production, we may see the price of oil rise like a bottle rocket. I remember the Arab Oil Embargo of 1973. The loss of just 5% of the world’s oil supply caused the price of oil to quadruple. Quadruple. With oil bouncing around $90 when I checked it the other day, are you ready for $360 oil? No. No you aren’t. No one is.
Best case scenario: The Saudis do what the Saudis do better than anyone else on earth: They smooth it over. They schmooze. They smile and talk their way out of it. And in all honest, I do sincerely hope they can. Worst case scenario: Gasoline in the United States goes to over $10 a gallon in very short order, and is rationed like you wouldn’t believe. I remember the gas lines in ’73. I drove a VW back then, so it was no big deal. This time around, it will be different. It won’t be a four-month political event. It will be permanent.
My advice to you: If you don’t have a good, practical bicycle, go buy one, and soon. If you do have a bicycle, go buy baskets for it, fenders, a good lock and some lights. And buy a bicycle helmet, rain cape and cycling gloves while you’re at it. You are going to want all of that, and very soon. I hope I’m wrong. I hope the Saudis can schmooze their way out of this one, as they have in the past. But if they can’t?
Welcome to our brave new world. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Baby, it's cold outside
Ok, so it’s cold here right now. I did not come down here for this. I live in west central Florida (Clearwater), and they’re talking about it being down in the thirties here for a couple of nights. Yeah, I know, compared to, say, Minnesota, this ain’t so bad. Balmy, even. By the end of the week, it will be back up in the 70s, so I’m not complaining, but still…
So what do you suppose will happen up north when natural gas and heating oil start to get too expensive, and then become unavailable in the coming years? How long would your house be inhabitable in the winter when the power goes off? These are not idle questions. Of the four seasons, there’s one that can kill you. What’s it like where you live in the winter? And is it worth the risk? It’s not like you’re going to get much of a warning on this, you know. (Well, other than me. Here. Now.)
In his book, The Adjustment, Charles MacArthur wrote of the disaster that befalls the New York metro area when the power grid fails totally in the middle of a February blizzard. It is a stark and sobering look at just how fast it can all go so very badly when the power goes off in deep winter — especially in a big city. A matter of hours. Maybe minutes. In his novel, Charles writes of an immediate and mass migration south, by any means necessary. Not everyone makes it. I think he got that part absolutely right as well. I do expect to see people moving to Florida in record numbers as the north (the Midwest and the northeast) becomes more difficult and less comfortable in the years ahead, all in the aftermath of peak oil and declining natural gas supplies. Lacking power and heat, I would expect Canada to be emptied out in fairly short order — and I wouldn’t blame them one bit. It gets cold up there, I hear.
Sometimes I wonder if a slow decline in energy resources is worse than a sudden crash. Slow declines tend to offer hope — it might not be that bad — we might turn it around — maybe it’s gonna be okay. With a fast crash, you know you’re pooched and you have to deal with it Right Now. Fast is a great motivator.
Until last winter, I said I never knew why anyone would live north of I-10. We had such a long, cold winter here last year, I’ve amended that to I-4. Another bad one and I’m dropping it down to Alligator Alley. And St. Thomas, in the USVI, is looking mighty good about now. Ah, but we will be warm and sunny again by the weekend here. All will be well. For now. For us.
If you live in the far north, or even north of I-10, you might want to take a very serious look around you. Three seasons a year, you’ve got a good thing going, but winter is not your friend. Please don’t mistake it for one. And always remember: The Sunshine State awaits!
One more thing: if you still haven't found that perfect gift for the holidays, Peak of the Devil is on sale for just $12.95, free shipping and guaranteed delivery before December 25 if you order by December 21. Simply click here and we'll get it for you.
So what do you suppose will happen up north when natural gas and heating oil start to get too expensive, and then become unavailable in the coming years? How long would your house be inhabitable in the winter when the power goes off? These are not idle questions. Of the four seasons, there’s one that can kill you. What’s it like where you live in the winter? And is it worth the risk? It’s not like you’re going to get much of a warning on this, you know. (Well, other than me. Here. Now.)
In his book, The Adjustment, Charles MacArthur wrote of the disaster that befalls the New York metro area when the power grid fails totally in the middle of a February blizzard. It is a stark and sobering look at just how fast it can all go so very badly when the power goes off in deep winter — especially in a big city. A matter of hours. Maybe minutes. In his novel, Charles writes of an immediate and mass migration south, by any means necessary. Not everyone makes it. I think he got that part absolutely right as well. I do expect to see people moving to Florida in record numbers as the north (the Midwest and the northeast) becomes more difficult and less comfortable in the years ahead, all in the aftermath of peak oil and declining natural gas supplies. Lacking power and heat, I would expect Canada to be emptied out in fairly short order — and I wouldn’t blame them one bit. It gets cold up there, I hear.
Sometimes I wonder if a slow decline in energy resources is worse than a sudden crash. Slow declines tend to offer hope — it might not be that bad — we might turn it around — maybe it’s gonna be okay. With a fast crash, you know you’re pooched and you have to deal with it Right Now. Fast is a great motivator.
Until last winter, I said I never knew why anyone would live north of I-10. We had such a long, cold winter here last year, I’ve amended that to I-4. Another bad one and I’m dropping it down to Alligator Alley. And St. Thomas, in the USVI, is looking mighty good about now. Ah, but we will be warm and sunny again by the weekend here. All will be well. For now. For us.
If you live in the far north, or even north of I-10, you might want to take a very serious look around you. Three seasons a year, you’ve got a good thing going, but winter is not your friend. Please don’t mistake it for one. And always remember: The Sunshine State awaits!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Peak oil and a new generation gap
I think we need to talk about the generation gap here for a minute. I say that after doing a couple of book signings and noticing a couple of things. At my first signing, the crowd was mostly older people – people over 40. The young guy in the crowd, maybe in his early thirties, was the one that commandeered the room to share with us the joys of T. Boone Pickins and how T. Boone was going to save us all with natural gas, so no worries.
A few days later, at a book store, I was accosted right off the bat by a twenty-something who offered me a major sneer for not having, on my person, irrefutable scientific evidence that the Alberta tar sands operation was bad for the environment. My fault for positioning myself at a table between him and the coffee bar. He was obviously inconvenienced by having to walk around me. My bad. Won’t happen again.
Nevertheless, I’m sensing a trend here: Older people (over 40, let’s say), do seem far more willing to accept and understand the idea of peak oil and the massive era of change that we are facing. Young people, not so much. But why? Even older people, baby boomers mostly, have lived their entire lives in the lap of luxurious oil. I know I have. Sure, we remember when the phone was bolted to the wall and you actually had to dial it. I, personally, remember when the TV only got three channels (if we were lucky) and they all went off at night. Can you imagine? Still, even then, we knew we had it made. We had a ’58 Pontiac Chieftain, for cryin’ out loud. So why can’t the younger generation see that we have a problem now? And why are the older among us more willing to accept the idea of peak oil and the coming change?
Maybe it’s the level, intensity and total intrusion of “modern life” on the younger among us. They have always had cell phones and techno-gadgets and it’s entirely possible that they have never even seen a manual transmission car. Televisions hard-wired for 500 channels 24/7 are the norm. Radio is beamed from satellites and the Internet is everywhere. The Chieftain didn’t even have seat belts. But Alvin Toffler was wrong.
Toffler wrote Future Shock, a book about how technology will overwhelm the people of the future. Nope, didn’t happen. Sorry, Al. We have willingly absorbed and embraced technology at a stunning rate. Yes, even me. I’m typing this on a laptop computer with wireless Internet capability that can, at the push of a button, connect me with the world. Sure didn’t see THAT coming back when I was in high school — but here it is, and I have a handle on it. No biggie. Maybe Toffler and I need to get together and write the sequel to his book: Retro Shock. That’s what’s coming. Are you ready?
Future technology is not going to trip us up, but the future loss of oil and natural gas will send us reeling. As our lifestyles go back in time to find a sort of low-energy stability, we will have to abandon much for what we have today — much of what we take for granted will have to be given up. All of the easy stuff. Our “anytime, anywhere” lives will have to be planned far in advance, to allow for the much lower levels of energy available. Even robot maids take power. You wait, kid, you’ll see. It’s going to be interesting to see how people (and which people) adapt to the changes brought on by peak oil in the years ahead. Young or old, no one gets a pass on this. Everyone is going to have to play.
A few days later, at a book store, I was accosted right off the bat by a twenty-something who offered me a major sneer for not having, on my person, irrefutable scientific evidence that the Alberta tar sands operation was bad for the environment. My fault for positioning myself at a table between him and the coffee bar. He was obviously inconvenienced by having to walk around me. My bad. Won’t happen again.
Nevertheless, I’m sensing a trend here: Older people (over 40, let’s say), do seem far more willing to accept and understand the idea of peak oil and the massive era of change that we are facing. Young people, not so much. But why? Even older people, baby boomers mostly, have lived their entire lives in the lap of luxurious oil. I know I have. Sure, we remember when the phone was bolted to the wall and you actually had to dial it. I, personally, remember when the TV only got three channels (if we were lucky) and they all went off at night. Can you imagine? Still, even then, we knew we had it made. We had a ’58 Pontiac Chieftain, for cryin’ out loud. So why can’t the younger generation see that we have a problem now? And why are the older among us more willing to accept the idea of peak oil and the coming change?
Maybe it’s the level, intensity and total intrusion of “modern life” on the younger among us. They have always had cell phones and techno-gadgets and it’s entirely possible that they have never even seen a manual transmission car. Televisions hard-wired for 500 channels 24/7 are the norm. Radio is beamed from satellites and the Internet is everywhere. The Chieftain didn’t even have seat belts. But Alvin Toffler was wrong.
Toffler wrote Future Shock, a book about how technology will overwhelm the people of the future. Nope, didn’t happen. Sorry, Al. We have willingly absorbed and embraced technology at a stunning rate. Yes, even me. I’m typing this on a laptop computer with wireless Internet capability that can, at the push of a button, connect me with the world. Sure didn’t see THAT coming back when I was in high school — but here it is, and I have a handle on it. No biggie. Maybe Toffler and I need to get together and write the sequel to his book: Retro Shock. That’s what’s coming. Are you ready?
Future technology is not going to trip us up, but the future loss of oil and natural gas will send us reeling. As our lifestyles go back in time to find a sort of low-energy stability, we will have to abandon much for what we have today — much of what we take for granted will have to be given up. All of the easy stuff. Our “anytime, anywhere” lives will have to be planned far in advance, to allow for the much lower levels of energy available. Even robot maids take power. You wait, kid, you’ll see. It’s going to be interesting to see how people (and which people) adapt to the changes brought on by peak oil in the years ahead. Young or old, no one gets a pass on this. Everyone is going to have to play.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
So, what's your plan?
I had a great kick off last month with my first book signing for Peak of the Devil at the Dunedin (Florida) public library. There was a lively crowd and we had a lot of fun. The event coordinator’s mother (age 93) was there early, stayed late, and was a joy to talk to both before and after the event. I spoke for about a half-hour or so and then took questions. And boy, did the crowd have questions. Mostly, they had very good questions. Mostly.
At some point toward the end of the evening, a fellow about four rows back wanted to make sure I knew that T. Boone Pickens was going to save America by converting the nation’s entire trucking fleet to natural gas. I tried to point out that natural gas was simply another non-renewable natural resource, and that it would seem unlikely that the trucking industry (not to mention the fuel industry) would embrace T. Boone’s cunning plan.
He would hear none of it. T. Boone was All That to him, and T. Boone was going to save us. (The “T.” stands for Thomas, by the way.) There was no arguing with him, so I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’ve seen this near-religious devotion to Mr. Pickens before. He’s sort of like a Basset-faced Ron Paul in that regard. I do find that sort of unquestioning devotion odd, to say the least, and expect a religion to pop up around the both of them any minute now, if it hasn’t already. Of course my wife, the lovely and ever-supportive JoAnn, was in the last row, well behind this guy, quite literally doubled over in her chair laughing. I just love it when I can bring a smile to her face. I live for those warm moments. But I couldn’t look at her without cracking up myself. Thank you, my dear.
Friends, I honestly do not believe that Mister Thomas Boone Pickens is going to save America. T. Boone’s number one goal in life is to take good care of T. Boone. Period. The man did not make his considerable fortune by being magnanimous. I do not believe that natural gas is going to save us, but yes, I do worry about the nation’s trucking industry. We rely on those long-haul trucks for just about everything. We really are going to need them, as it doesn’t look as though we’re going to get our ducks lined up when it comes to upgrading the nation’s rail system, which would help take the burden off the truckers as diesel fuel gets both expensive and scarce. (Trains offer a far more efficient tons-hauled-per mile than trucks.) I just don’t see the trucking industry converting to natural gas any time soon. Like, ever. Sorry, T. Boone.
Do I recall correctly that liquefied natural gas, as used in converted motor vehicles, contains less energy per volume than gasoline? That a vehicle running on said gas gets worse fuel economy because of it? If so, it makes no sense at all to convert from one depleting natural resource to another you’d need more of just to break even. I seriously doubt we are in any position to ramp up our natural gas extraction to be able to supply the trucking industry on a scale that would do any good, and I’m not even getting into the annoyance of converting a portion of the nation’s fuel delivery infrastructure (gas stations and truck stops) to be able to fill up all of those trucks with LNG nationwide. It would be a nightmare. Of course, ol’ T. Boone wraps it all up in Old Glory and says we have to stop buying oil from people that hate us and declare our energy independence. At least he got that part right, but I also suspect that it will happen soon enough no matter what we do. Peak oil, remember? Yeah, peak oil.
Oh, and the punch line to the evening: The noisy guy didn’t even buy a book. Big shock there, huh?
At some point toward the end of the evening, a fellow about four rows back wanted to make sure I knew that T. Boone Pickens was going to save America by converting the nation’s entire trucking fleet to natural gas. I tried to point out that natural gas was simply another non-renewable natural resource, and that it would seem unlikely that the trucking industry (not to mention the fuel industry) would embrace T. Boone’s cunning plan.
He would hear none of it. T. Boone was All That to him, and T. Boone was going to save us. (The “T.” stands for Thomas, by the way.) There was no arguing with him, so I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’ve seen this near-religious devotion to Mr. Pickens before. He’s sort of like a Basset-faced Ron Paul in that regard. I do find that sort of unquestioning devotion odd, to say the least, and expect a religion to pop up around the both of them any minute now, if it hasn’t already. Of course my wife, the lovely and ever-supportive JoAnn, was in the last row, well behind this guy, quite literally doubled over in her chair laughing. I just love it when I can bring a smile to her face. I live for those warm moments. But I couldn’t look at her without cracking up myself. Thank you, my dear.
Friends, I honestly do not believe that Mister Thomas Boone Pickens is going to save America. T. Boone’s number one goal in life is to take good care of T. Boone. Period. The man did not make his considerable fortune by being magnanimous. I do not believe that natural gas is going to save us, but yes, I do worry about the nation’s trucking industry. We rely on those long-haul trucks for just about everything. We really are going to need them, as it doesn’t look as though we’re going to get our ducks lined up when it comes to upgrading the nation’s rail system, which would help take the burden off the truckers as diesel fuel gets both expensive and scarce. (Trains offer a far more efficient tons-hauled-per mile than trucks.) I just don’t see the trucking industry converting to natural gas any time soon. Like, ever. Sorry, T. Boone.
Do I recall correctly that liquefied natural gas, as used in converted motor vehicles, contains less energy per volume than gasoline? That a vehicle running on said gas gets worse fuel economy because of it? If so, it makes no sense at all to convert from one depleting natural resource to another you’d need more of just to break even. I seriously doubt we are in any position to ramp up our natural gas extraction to be able to supply the trucking industry on a scale that would do any good, and I’m not even getting into the annoyance of converting a portion of the nation’s fuel delivery infrastructure (gas stations and truck stops) to be able to fill up all of those trucks with LNG nationwide. It would be a nightmare. Of course, ol’ T. Boone wraps it all up in Old Glory and says we have to stop buying oil from people that hate us and declare our energy independence. At least he got that part right, but I also suspect that it will happen soon enough no matter what we do. Peak oil, remember? Yeah, peak oil.
Oh, and the punch line to the evening: The noisy guy didn’t even buy a book. Big shock there, huh?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Real Problem with Peak Oil
The biggest problem with peak oil isn’t peak oil. It’s us. All of us. All seven billion of us. We have absolutely no Plan B, and too few of us (hardly any of us) understand that time is fast running out for Plan A. I have long said that Americans are lousy planners, but great at responding to a crisis. Man, I sure hope I’m right about that, because we have done zero planning for this one. We are barreling right along into the greatest crisis man has ever had to face, and too many of us (all of us) are flying blind with the throttles wide open. We haven’t got a plan and we haven’t got a clue.
Peak oil is going to catch everyone off base – even people that think they know what’s going on. (I only pretend to know, but at least I know I’m pretending.) None of us have any idea how hard this will hit or when. Too few understand that it will hit at all, and too many still deny it. If my book gets more people interested enough to ask questions, please: ASK QUESTIONS. Ask your local elected and appointed officials: What are they doing to get ready for this? Ask at every level of government: What about peak oil? Chances are you’re going to get little more than a blank stare, a smarmy government smile and an answer that has nothing to do with the question at all. Keep asking. Especially as we go into the next big presidential election cycle for 2012.
The only government in North America I know of right now that has done any serious study at all on peak oil and what they are facing is the City of Portland, Oregon. By all means, do get a copy of the Portland Peak Oil Task Force report and get it into the hands of your local officials. No, they probably won’t read it, but you did what you could. (And do read that report yourself.) The words “peak oil” need to be as annoyingly common as “drill, baby, drill” was awhile back. We need to hear the words “peak oil” being said. A lot.
There is no IQ test to run for public office. (That kind of explains just about everything right there, doesn’t it?) Elected officials are no smarter than the rest of us. (Even being AS smart would be a step in the right direction.) We all use the same Magic 8 Ball to help guide us through life. I do not expect my government to save me from peak oil. I do not expect to be able to save my government from same. But we have to at least try. Make the effort. At least ask.
Peak oil is going to catch everyone off base – even people that think they know what’s going on. (I only pretend to know, but at least I know I’m pretending.) None of us have any idea how hard this will hit or when. Too few understand that it will hit at all, and too many still deny it. If my book gets more people interested enough to ask questions, please: ASK QUESTIONS. Ask your local elected and appointed officials: What are they doing to get ready for this? Ask at every level of government: What about peak oil? Chances are you’re going to get little more than a blank stare, a smarmy government smile and an answer that has nothing to do with the question at all. Keep asking. Especially as we go into the next big presidential election cycle for 2012.
The only government in North America I know of right now that has done any serious study at all on peak oil and what they are facing is the City of Portland, Oregon. By all means, do get a copy of the Portland Peak Oil Task Force report and get it into the hands of your local officials. No, they probably won’t read it, but you did what you could. (And do read that report yourself.) The words “peak oil” need to be as annoyingly common as “drill, baby, drill” was awhile back. We need to hear the words “peak oil” being said. A lot.
There is no IQ test to run for public office. (That kind of explains just about everything right there, doesn’t it?) Elected officials are no smarter than the rest of us. (Even being AS smart would be a step in the right direction.) We all use the same Magic 8 Ball to help guide us through life. I do not expect my government to save me from peak oil. I do not expect to be able to save my government from same. But we have to at least try. Make the effort. At least ask.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Germans get it in one
So there’s a new report out on peak oil, leaked from a German military think tank. The report spells out the dire consequences of peak oil, and says this is it: It happened this year. It’s tough to argue with the Germans. They tend to get their facts straight and don’t go in for a lot of sugar coating. I tend to believe them.
Historically, the German military has always had a major stake and interest in oil. During the middle of the 20th century, when half of the German military was on a road trip through scenic Russia and the other half was on a working vacationing in France, the folks back home were saddled with the important task of keeping everyone moving right along - without oil. They worked very hard to develop synthetic oil, and found then what we know now: Yeah, you can do it. You can make synthetic oil, but: It’s very expensive, labor intensive, takes a lot time and it’s difficult, if not impossible, to make all you need. So now, when the Germans say we’ve reached peak oil, I do think they know of what they speak. I also think, for Germans, they are being wildly optimistic. That doesn’t seem like them at all.
Well, no matter what, now another precinct weighs in. The Germans say it happened this year. I said it happened in 2005, but I admit mine was just a barely educated guess. By the time you feel it, by the time you see it, the actual date of peak oil won’t matter at all. People who have studied peak oil for years often argue whether it will be a fast crash or a slow crash as the oil goes away. My answer is that it will be a slow crash until it gets to you. Then it’s going to seem mighty fast.
In the meantime, it was good to see the Germans say something about it publicly, even if the report was leaked. As for me, I’m just happy to be able to report the report, and to be able to offer up Basil Fawlty’s most famous quote: “I mentioned the war once, but I think I got away with it.”
Historically, the German military has always had a major stake and interest in oil. During the middle of the 20th century, when half of the German military was on a road trip through scenic Russia and the other half was on a working vacationing in France, the folks back home were saddled with the important task of keeping everyone moving right along - without oil. They worked very hard to develop synthetic oil, and found then what we know now: Yeah, you can do it. You can make synthetic oil, but: It’s very expensive, labor intensive, takes a lot time and it’s difficult, if not impossible, to make all you need. So now, when the Germans say we’ve reached peak oil, I do think they know of what they speak. I also think, for Germans, they are being wildly optimistic. That doesn’t seem like them at all.
Well, no matter what, now another precinct weighs in. The Germans say it happened this year. I said it happened in 2005, but I admit mine was just a barely educated guess. By the time you feel it, by the time you see it, the actual date of peak oil won’t matter at all. People who have studied peak oil for years often argue whether it will be a fast crash or a slow crash as the oil goes away. My answer is that it will be a slow crash until it gets to you. Then it’s going to seem mighty fast.
In the meantime, it was good to see the Germans say something about it publicly, even if the report was leaked. As for me, I’m just happy to be able to report the report, and to be able to offer up Basil Fawlty’s most famous quote: “I mentioned the war once, but I think I got away with it.”
Thursday, September 16, 2010
What Fun!
I spent a little bit of time yesterday evening chatting with Dave McGee and Sean Phipps on Dave’s radio show. I had called a few minutes before my appointed interview time, and got to listen to some of the show as I was on hold. It was interesting to hear them go after both the President and Glenn Beck with equal cheek, and I had to wonder what I was in for when my turn came. As it turned out, I had no reason to worry. We had a great time and laughed like crazed hyenas.
We talked about peak oil, of course, and I equated it with peak dating, and how you’re never quite sure when you’ve reached peak date, so how could we know peak oil? They got a kick out of that, and I think it made Sean ponder his big date last week. Was that his peak date? And at what point does he admit that it was? Peak oil is the same way.
Both my publisher and my publicist are going to have me trotting in October, promoting Peak of the Devil, and I like that. I am not shy. Having performed on stage, in tights, at the local Renaissance Festival for some years, I have no fear of crowds or cameras — as long as I am wearing pants. I always check before I go on. Let’s see. . . Yep, they’re there. I’m golden.
If you’re lucky, you will hear me on the radio or see me on TV over the next six weeks or so. And if I’m lucky, you’ll listen. I promise to keep the message up beat and entertaining, despite the decidedly down beat and somber subject matter. I feel a little bit like Country Joe and the Fish here: “Ain’t no time to wonder why, whoopie we’re all gonna die!” Oh, I could so re-write that song for these times.
So keep your ears open for the sound of my lilting, if not dulcet tones on the radio. Look for my mug on the tube. Who knows? I might be there. Just remember, no matter how funny it might sound at the moment, and no matter what I say, the underlying message is far more serious than I will ever let on.
Now don’t touch that radio dial!
We talked about peak oil, of course, and I equated it with peak dating, and how you’re never quite sure when you’ve reached peak date, so how could we know peak oil? They got a kick out of that, and I think it made Sean ponder his big date last week. Was that his peak date? And at what point does he admit that it was? Peak oil is the same way.
Both my publisher and my publicist are going to have me trotting in October, promoting Peak of the Devil, and I like that. I am not shy. Having performed on stage, in tights, at the local Renaissance Festival for some years, I have no fear of crowds or cameras — as long as I am wearing pants. I always check before I go on. Let’s see. . . Yep, they’re there. I’m golden.
If you’re lucky, you will hear me on the radio or see me on TV over the next six weeks or so. And if I’m lucky, you’ll listen. I promise to keep the message up beat and entertaining, despite the decidedly down beat and somber subject matter. I feel a little bit like Country Joe and the Fish here: “Ain’t no time to wonder why, whoopie we’re all gonna die!” Oh, I could so re-write that song for these times.
So keep your ears open for the sound of my lilting, if not dulcet tones on the radio. Look for my mug on the tube. Who knows? I might be there. Just remember, no matter how funny it might sound at the moment, and no matter what I say, the underlying message is far more serious than I will ever let on.
Now don’t touch that radio dial!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
What if I’m wrong about Peak Oil?
Back in the 1970s there was a bumper sticker that read simply: QUESTION AUTHORITY. I think that’s still a valid request, and I think the bumper sticker and some little buttons with that phrase are still available today. The thing is, I’m no authority. I’m just a guy who reads a lot and writes a little. Still, you should ask: What if I’m wrong?
What if oil doesn’t peak? What if supplies don’t get tight? What if we just keep on keeping on, always finding enough oil to get us by in the years and decades ahead? Boy, wouldn’t that be great? Not many people want to be wrong. On this, I’d be delighted.
What you have to ask is this: How much do we know about global oil production with absolute dead certainty? The answer is "Not much." What we do know is this: The peak of oil discoveries world-wide was back in the 1960s, some 45 years ago. We also know we are using oil faster than we are finding it. And in all honesty, that’s all we know for absolute dead certain. Everything else is an educated guess.
We do not know how much oil remains in the earth, nor do we know where it all is, or if we can get to it, ever. Because that is really what we know, we say this: We will never extract all of the oil. There will always be oil in the earth. But you have it understand that “peak oil” is not about the last drop. It’s simply about the production curve. At some point, we assume, we will no longer be able to extract enough oil to meet our base-line demand. That is, we will not be able to conduct our lives as we do now, even after we implement available energy alternatives and conservation. Even after demand destruction. At some point, oil depletion will become a first world problem. Our problem. Of that, I am fairly certain.
But, again what if I’m wrong? Tell you what: If I’m wrong, and the oil doesn’t run low, I’m gonna buy the 1972 Cadillac Eldorado convertible I always wanted and drive that sucker coast to coast with the top down and Springsteen on the eight-track.
Wanna come along?
What if oil doesn’t peak? What if supplies don’t get tight? What if we just keep on keeping on, always finding enough oil to get us by in the years and decades ahead? Boy, wouldn’t that be great? Not many people want to be wrong. On this, I’d be delighted.
What you have to ask is this: How much do we know about global oil production with absolute dead certainty? The answer is "Not much." What we do know is this: The peak of oil discoveries world-wide was back in the 1960s, some 45 years ago. We also know we are using oil faster than we are finding it. And in all honesty, that’s all we know for absolute dead certain. Everything else is an educated guess.
We do not know how much oil remains in the earth, nor do we know where it all is, or if we can get to it, ever. Because that is really what we know, we say this: We will never extract all of the oil. There will always be oil in the earth. But you have it understand that “peak oil” is not about the last drop. It’s simply about the production curve. At some point, we assume, we will no longer be able to extract enough oil to meet our base-line demand. That is, we will not be able to conduct our lives as we do now, even after we implement available energy alternatives and conservation. Even after demand destruction. At some point, oil depletion will become a first world problem. Our problem. Of that, I am fairly certain.
But, again what if I’m wrong? Tell you what: If I’m wrong, and the oil doesn’t run low, I’m gonna buy the 1972 Cadillac Eldorado convertible I always wanted and drive that sucker coast to coast with the top down and Springsteen on the eight-track.
Wanna come along?
Monday, August 16, 2010
Independence From Oil
So I got asked to lead an “Independence From Oil” ride last Sunday. I could go into boring detail about how much oil it takes to actually build and operate a bicycle (more than you’d think), but hey, the gig landed me a spot on the local evening news Saturday night, so it wasn’t all bad. I was even the follow up to a story about the President taking a quick vacation on the Gulf coast. How cool is that? A bunch of people showed up the next morning for the ride, and we went from downtown Clearwater up to the front gate of Honeymoon Island State Park. Along the way I got to chat with Bill Hemme from St. Petersburg College. We talked about what it might take to form a bicycle club at the school. (I promised to go and talk to them about bicycling this fall.) Also got to see a couple of the guys I saw at the last local alley cat race (I knew I should have brought my fixie!) and overall, I think we had a good ride.
Monday, August 2, 2010
That oil-free life.
And you ain’t living it, Roscoe. Trust me. No matter what, if you are reading this, you are using oil. Now, I know, if you are living in a solar-powered cabin in the woods or maybe in an apartment in New York City, you might appear to not be using any oil. You don’t have a car, you don’t have a lawn mower. You, personally, don’t have to buy anything like oil or gasoline or any oil-like product. Or so you say. But you still use oil. That is, oil is used on your behalf. Oil is used to grow the food you eat and to get it close enough to you so that you can buy it. And you’d better believe that uses oil. Using electricity uses oil. (Making solar panels uses oil.) You even have to oil your bicycle chain from time to time, don’t you? I know I do.
Unless you are part of an indigenous tribe in the upper reaches of the Amazon or the Congo, you use oil. And even then, I have to wonder. Any contact with the outside world, and ta-da! You are using oil. Now, it’s true that as that oil starts to go away, you will use less oil, and less oil will be used on your behalf, but trust me on this one: You use oil. Even the Amish use oil, and they are about as oil-free as it gets in the first world. That’s what’s going to make this peak oil thing so very annoying. It’s going to mess with everyone – some more than others, but all us before it’s over. Peak oil is very democratic. Universal, you might say.
I own several gasoline-powered items. I do use electricity. I like to eat. I use oil. I know that the time will come when there will be less oil for me to use, so I plan accordingly, or at least try to tell myself that I do. Still, even I have to admit that it is very easy to just jump in the truck and go. Or turn on a light or get a quick bite to eat. And all of these things take oil. All of these things are why we use so very much oil in our day to day lives, even when we try not to. We just can’t help ourselves. Some day we’re going to have to scale back.
I hope you're ready.
Unless you are part of an indigenous tribe in the upper reaches of the Amazon or the Congo, you use oil. And even then, I have to wonder. Any contact with the outside world, and ta-da! You are using oil. Now, it’s true that as that oil starts to go away, you will use less oil, and less oil will be used on your behalf, but trust me on this one: You use oil. Even the Amish use oil, and they are about as oil-free as it gets in the first world. That’s what’s going to make this peak oil thing so very annoying. It’s going to mess with everyone – some more than others, but all us before it’s over. Peak oil is very democratic. Universal, you might say.
I own several gasoline-powered items. I do use electricity. I like to eat. I use oil. I know that the time will come when there will be less oil for me to use, so I plan accordingly, or at least try to tell myself that I do. Still, even I have to admit that it is very easy to just jump in the truck and go. Or turn on a light or get a quick bite to eat. And all of these things take oil. All of these things are why we use so very much oil in our day to day lives, even when we try not to. We just can’t help ourselves. Some day we’re going to have to scale back.
I hope you're ready.
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