As voice assistants continue to proliferate throughout the world, we will see almost every appliance in homes become voice-friendly. Almost all large technology companies have developed their own voice assistant – Amazon (Alexa), Google (Google), and Apple (Siri) all developed ways to interface voice technology with so-called “Smart Homes”. For my project, I will begin developing an Alexa skill that can track energy consumption of a smart bulb over time. I will develop this application using Amazon Web Services (AWS) paired with a JavaScript function with Node.js framework. Upon completion, I would like to ponder the question: do smarter homes mean more efficient technology? The primary driver behind this is the fact that an Amazon Echo is always listening, and therefore always needs to be plugged in. As smart home technology continues to spread, we need to make sure that the benefits actually outweigh the costs.
Author: Dylan Powers (Page 1 of 2)
While facts and data have tremendous power in changing our thoughts and actions, their influence pales in comparison to that of art. Any type of media, whether a painting, video, or monument pushes our boundaries of thought because it gives us other perspectives on otherwise stale situations. For example, look at this video about what would happen if mother earth treated us the same way that we treat her – it’s not such a pretty sight. I love this video because it forces people to think differently about how they really treat the earth, and it even sub-consciously suggests things that we can do to treat her better.
In my opinion, monuments have the same potential. Albeit our guest speaker Dr. Paul Farber did not speak much of environmentally-specific monuments, the activity that we did on Friday speaks volumes about the power of these landmarks to make a statement. We all showed tremendous creativity in coming up with our own ideas for monuments, which speaks to our potential as a group to teach people about how to be more environmentally conscious in their daily lives.
At the end of class on Friday, we reflected on what we learned and what we did throughout the semester, and at least for me, everything was related through one concept – art. For me, the fictional stories had more impact than the non-fiction ones because they gave me a different perspective on environmental issues. Those stories in addition to the photographs, movies, and even video games showed me that we can change the story around environmental consciousness solely through art.
One story that particularly impacted me this semester was “Spider the Artist” by Nnedi Okorafor. It took a gruesome true story – the story of oil companies invading land in third-world countries – and revealed the hope that lies layers underneath the inconvenient truth. The spider showed compassion in caring for the woman and in the end showed commitment to her by saving her life. Works of art like this one give me hope that we can make a better world by spreading positive stories. And at the point where we can truly impact people deep-down with art, we can change the conversation about the environment.
When I eat a meal, I seldom think about the origin of my food or why it appeals to me. As Masanobu Fukuoka pointed out in his book One Straw Revolution , we are drawn toward a lot of food by our brains – he points out that we all too often “eat with our heads” (145). We continually eat certain foods that are far out of our reach because we have been conditioned to believe that we need them. In the book he uses fish as an example – the fish that live in deep water such as tuna and yellowtail require much more effort to obtain. For these trophy fish, fishermen have to sail out far, using a lot of fuel for boats. Usually, they will spend the majority of their day out in the deep sea with little reward. On the other hand, as Fukuoka notes, the fish that live in shallow water (think anchovies) are equal or better in nutritional value and require far less effort to attain. However, since birth, societal norms trained us to like the more expensive, nicer food, rather than the easier-to-obtain but “lesser-in-quality” food.
In order to make food more sustainable (or even beneficial), we need to forget these norms and stop eating with our brains. Fukuoka characterizes this with the term non-discriminating diet. In short, this involves eating foods that come to you naturally, like food from local forms or from your own crops. It also involves not thinking ahead as much about what to eat in the future. As Fukuoka puts it, we have to follow our instincts when it comes to food, which means always seeking out natural, close-by foods.
The benefits of such a diet are two-fold. First, we eliminate a lot of transportation cost by eating locally grown foods. As Amanda pointed out in class, most bananas (which I eat often) do not come from the United States. In fact, as this article points out, none of the top 10 suppliers of US bananas are from within the US. This implicates millions of gallons of oil yearly spent on exporting the bananas to the US – and this is only one specific food. Second, if we pursue such a diet, we come to eat healthier and more naturally. By only eating foods that are locally grown, we stop purchasing exported foods from large factory farms that are loaded with unhealthy chemicals and pesticides.
The best part is – it’s not that hard! We just need to think more consciously about our plates, and where the food came from. Great places like the Duke Campus Farm are stepping up to the plate to help with this – we just need to be on their team.
We all live on the same planet, but not all of us live in the same world. Some live in a world where the biggest complaints are of low battery life, difficult assignments, lack of free time, and not knowing what to watch on Netflix. You probably just thought of the term “first-world problems” and there’s a reason for that: those concepts are completely isolated in the first world. However, others live in a world where the biggest complaints are of a lack of housing, dying children, inability to obtain resources, and having essentially no say in the grand scope of things. The latter live in a completely different world than the former, but the former so often refuse to acknowledge that, and continue on living in their “perfect” world.
China Miéville, in his piece “The Limits of Utopia”, brings this concept to light toward the end of it, when he exclaims “we live in utopia; it just isn’t ours.” What he means by our utopia, presumably, is the one that benefits everyone equally; however, the one that “we” live in now excludes the majority of the planet in exchange for larger profit for corporations and more government power in the first world. Think about the United States, and set aside your first world Netflix-and-Hulu-style problems for a minute: we live in our own little utopia. “We” have the unlimited power to force smaller nations out of their homes so that we can extract more oil for our energy necessities. “We” can power our homes (for now) with that oil, polluting and destroying the beautiful world that others live in. “We” will continue to be able to act however we want in international affairs, never acknowledging the terrible impact that we have on those around us.
Think about it – in the big picture, we can do whatever we want, whenever we want, with no consequences. But what does this mean for the the rest of the world? Usually, it mean that others suffer so that the US can continue to live “perfectly”. In order for the world to achieve the necessary utopia that Miéville raves about, we are going to have to acknowledge the differences between the utopia that we want and the dystopian-style utopia that we live in now. We can do this by thinking more about the big-picture consequences of our day-to-day actions and raising awareness about how our “ordinary” decisions affect others around the world. Only then will we all live in the same world, rather than merely walk the same earth.
After Catherine Flowers finished talking about her spectacular journey from Alabama to Durham, Amanda talked about how the majority of the environmental stories that we read make us feel despair rather than hope. She mentioned that people like Catherine Flowers, who strive for something bigger than themselves and fight for the little people, give us promise that these problems can be solved. Sometimes, it’s hard to see that, given that the people who have the power to make the most immediate change (the government) are the ones making our problems worse.
Flowers’ introductory article mentions that law enforcement evicted/arrested 37 different families solely because they could not afford proper septic systems – this added on to their already terrible situation, wherein raw sewage leaked into their yards and caused disease. These are the stories that we talk about when we say that so many environmental stories are written in the tone of despair. These kinds of narratives seem to take hope away, rather than give it – the very people that we expect to fix the sewage problem seem to exacerbate it instead. Does that not seem backwards?
Fortunately, we have people like Flowers to turn the ship around, and return control back to the people. When she tells her narrative, I feel inspired to create my own environmental narrative that’s focused on actionables and deliverables that can rectify our situation. This is exactly what we are doing by trying to reduce plastic use in West Union. Hopefully, we can show people that they have the power to reduce worldwide plastic use – so that they can stop hearing such negative stories about plastic in the environment. Hopefully, you all will join us in April Three Plastic Free, so that we can all make an impact and turn the narrative around!
The words revolution and revelation are only separated by a difference in two individual letters, but they could not be further apart definition-wise. Saul D. Alinksy, in his book Rules for Radicals, argues that people’s minds need to be fundamentally changed before any effective revolution can happen – in other words, revelation precedes revolution. Robin Kirk drove this home with one quote that especially stuck with me – “10,000 deaths is a statistic; 1 is a tragedy.” She talked about this in reference to how likely people are to act after a horrific event like a school shooting. This realization makes me heartbroken, but I have come to accept it – if we expect people to change, we have to tell them a story that really hits hard. If we manage to affect people so deeply that they have a revelation, then we can start a truly large revolution.
With our sustainability project — trying to dissuade West Union vendors from wrapping utensils in plastic and from using non-compostable utensils — we know that we might not succeed because vendors have (and will continue to have) a monetary incentive to order plastic-wrapped, non-compostable utensils. However, if we can cause fellow students to have some sort of revelation, we can succeed in dissuading them from using the plastic wrapped utensils. To achieve this, we will be trying to encourage others to live plastic free for a whole day, and we will call the event April three plastic free (it rhymes!) We want to educate people on how easy it is to live plastic free – they just have to make conscious, self-aware decisions at every meal. We will provide them with a (infographical) guide on what to do in difficult situations, like when the only option is something plastic-wrapped. We will also try to educate them on how bad non-compostable utensils are for the environment and how to compost better. Hopefully, we can tell them a gruesome enough story about environmental damanger that will cause them to want to change. This is the driving force behind a personal revelation that will lead to a less plasticized Duke.
Over the past few weeks, we have discussed story-telling as activism. I talked about Obama’s perspective on great leadership, we watched Chimamanda Adichie’s TED talk about the importance of diverse stories, and we read Oil on Water by Helon Habila. In the novel, Habila talks of villages in the Delta that fall victim to oil colonization – that is, when oil corporations invade a village and effect change in the community. Following something like this, the story that is so often told is one of wealth and prosperity. We hear that the villages see economic booms and that without the oil companies, they would have lived in poverty forever. We even hear stories of how initially happy the villagers become.
However, we have to remember Adichie’s warning of a single story and ask ourselves, “what other stories need to be told here?” Habila tactfully delineates the slow but sure decline of a community after oil invasion. At one point, the doctor reveals that the oil causes levels of contamination never-before-seen. The pollution levels disease the humans and the ecosystem, resulting in worse conditions overall. We also often hear the story of how oil invasions provide jobs to blue-collar workers, so people make more money and generally are happier. However, Habila tells of the ways that the oil companies exploit workers, by forcing them to believe certain truths and shielding them from the real world. Using the doctor as an example again, Habila tells of how the oil companies pay the doctor to hide the truth from the real world – what kind of work is that?
In class, we questioned why this book does not ever explicitly mention climate change – I think this was a deliberate way to get us to identify what makes this book some form of activism. Like I spoke about in my blog post about our 44th president, not every act of leadership and social change has to be concrete – sometimes, inspiring and informing others does the trick. Habila tells us a tale that most of us did not know before – one of struggle and pain due to oil. He paints a gruesome picture to get us to cringe and weep about the current state of affairs. By doing so, he motivates a previously ignorant population to act.
I learned through this book that “environmental activism” — at least as we talk about it in this class — is not solely about saving the environment. After reading Habila’s novel, I know that environmental activism means rectifying the environmental wrongs that corporations and governments create. This means not only saving the environment itself, but also the people that the pollution hurts the most. These are the people that Habila talks about so much, and the people that we need to keep in the back of our minds when thinking about environmental activism.
I’m a sucker for short stories. Mostly because I have the attention span of a fly, but also because they get right to the point. Nnedi Okorafor’s short story Spider the Artist , a unique blend of science-fiction and environmental activism, puts forth several strong narratives, none of which go unnoticed. The one that I found most compelling involved the impact that advanced technology has on our society. Some people (like those who watch popular Netflix show Black Mirror) believe that advanced technology has no place alongside humans because it will almost certainly turn against us. Others, like famous futurist Ray Kurzweil, are more optimistic about the matter. I would put myself in a group with Mr. Kurzweil, and I would argue that Okorafor speaks of the Zombies — or mechanical spiders — not to warn humans against technology itself, but to warn humans against technology falling into the wrong hands.
The majority of AI applications, surprisingly, don’t involve giant mechanical spiders that kill humans trying to destroy oil pipelines. Most try to solve problems by improving humans’ lives, rather than trying to end them. However, videos like this one (please watch, it’s very powerful) and stories like Okorafor’s make us weary about the future of technology. I argue that those stories are not intended to teach us about the dangers of AI, but rather about the dangers of how humans can use it. AI can be trained, just like humans, to do the right thing. It can be made to serve the greater good. However, the people who designed the mechanical spiders (Zombies) designed them with hate in their hearts. They designed them specifically to target and kill humans who try to mess with their profits. Okorafor argues that when powerful technology falls into the wrong, evil hands, bad things happen.
Furthermore, I drew a parallel directly from the spiders to climate deniers. Instead of solving the root problem (oil dependency), they try to mitigate the symptoms (people trying to take the oil). This costs lives, money, resources, and above all: our planet. Instead, the people could have chosen to flip the switch and use the technology for good. As preposterous as they may sound, here are some of my propositions:
- Ride the mechanical spiders to work! No more cars.
- Use the mechanical spiders to run errands – less need for transportation.
- Allow them to teach the students! More personalized education, students stay at home for school
All of these suggestions, admittedly silly, are nonetheless examples of how not to abuse powerful technology. Powerful, corrupt people, when given access to this technology, will always use it to drive up their profits. We must take it upon ourselves to develop new forms of AI and use them to improve the state of our planet — this would make Okorafor very proud.
During my initial read through of Power by Linda Hogan, I struggled to find direct parallels between the fictional story and environmentalism. Discussion in class on Friday really cleared things up for me. I particularly gained a lot of insight from the juxtaposition of the two trial scenes.
In the first trial scene (in the actual court room), the court asks Omishto to take the stand as a witness. Before she does, Ama pleads of her to tell the truth – about everything except the panther’s sickly appearance. Omishto does exactly this, but Ama still gets away clean. She narrowly escapes conviction in the formal court, and is promptly released following the trial.
However, the story within the tribe differs quite a bit. Because the Taiga people worship the panther so much, they believe that Ama committed a terrible, unforgivable act. Omishto continues to hide details about the panther’s sickness. The tribal elders sentence Ama to four years of “walking”, which translates to four years of banishment from the tribe. After Ama walks away from this trial, Omishto does not see her for the remainder of the novel.
I now understand the real reason why Ama did not wish for the elders – or anybody, for that matter – to know about the poor state of the panther. The Taiga have such a strong image of the panther in their minds, and Ama believed that knowing about its weaknesses would diminish their image of it. It would cause them to lose all hope and to lose track of what they believe in. The parallel between the panther and the earth, at least to me, is striking here. The “white world” – where the official trial happened – cares so little about the panther (nature) that it dismisses the killing (ignorance). However, the Taiga tribe – the real activists – believe in something higher, and place a higher importance on the panther (nature). This is why their sentence for Ama is so much harsher than the one given by the “white world”. However, by hiding the true weakness of the panther, Ama gave the Taiga people hope. She allowed them to continue believing in something greater, and in this way she is the greatest activist of all.
If the book were to continue beyond the last page, I would speculate that Omishto becomes a large voice in the tribe. She saw everything that Ama did just to preserve the tribe’s beliefs – it should empower her to do more to prolong its belief system. And at the root, that’s exactly what activism really is – people continuing to hope and believe that we will find a solution.
Monkey wrenching is to activism as intramurals is to varsity. The former: unorganized, almost sloppy, often more rough. The latter: structured, hierarchical, far more serious. Dave Foreman inspired me to create this analogy with chapter 11 of his book, Confessions of an Eco-Warrior. He gives very strict, non-flexible guidelines on everything that monkey wrenching is and is not. Among other things, he describes it as non-organized, simple, and fun. After completing The Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey, I see exactly how these definitions fit in. Hayduke, Doc, Bonnie and Seldom seemed to wreck havoc on expensive equipment because it was fun for them, among other things.
However, I would never argue that monkey wrenching is 100% effective. Although a fictional tale, Abbey’s story concludes with no concrete changes being made to environmental policy. The gang destroyed bridges and bulldozers, but to what avail? The government became increasingly angry, not attempting to make any change, but rather devoting a lot of time and energy into catching these criminals.
On the contrary, look at Bidder 70, an inspiring documentary about activist Tim DeChristopher. DeChristopher attends an auction where he bids on (and wins) 12 separate land leases worth close to $2M. Obviously, he does not intend to pay for them, which results in a brutally long and painful legal case which ends with him serving two years in federal prison. In several instances, he describes the process as “annoying”, “lengthy”, and “cumbersome”. However, I believe that if he could go back in time and make the decision again, he would do the exact same thing.
DeChristopher demonstrates, to me, the difference between monkey wrenching and mass activism. To sum it up in one sentence: impactful activism ain’t always easy. In Abbey’s tale, the gang generally has an easy and fun time, despite toward the end where they get continually chased by authorities. In DeChristopher’s story, he bids not because he particularly enjoys bidding on land leases, but rather to make a political statement. He did what he did not for himself, but for the betterment of the human condition. The former is far easier than the latter – hence why the latter is more rare.
Activism that stems from one person sacrificing his/herself for the future of our environment and society (as in DeChristopher’s case) often succeeds more. As I talked about last week, people plant the seeds for large-scale movements by relating to people – and this is exactly why sacrifice works so well. People will always rally behind a hero(ine) (like DeChristopher) who puts his/herself in danger just to help others. His campaign succeeded in creating a large scale movement because people appreciated what he did and as a result, joined him in his cause.
I do not intend to disdain monkey wrenching; any action – small or large – toward the improvement of our environmental condition helps. However, activism ain’t easy – large-scale, impactful movements are never born from a gang just “having fun”. They are birthed by unselfish people that brave through difficult times knowing that better things lie ahead.
