Month: May 2023

A Different Perspective on Sustainability

I just picked up my 1954 Leica M3 from a routine but overdue service. I couldn’t wait to get it home and load it with film. Yes, 1954. Yes, film.

Holding this remarkable machine in my hands, feeling the impressive weight of its all-metal construction, is an experience. But looking through its now clean and perfectly clear rangefinder to compose a picture and pressing its silky-smooth shutter is something else entirely. And don’t get me started on the feel of its double-stroke film advance. I hope I haven’t lost anyone yet.

Some would suggest that my nearly seven-decade-old camera, totally manual and without any kind of exposure metering, is the best camera ever made. Others might take one look and scoff at it as a worthless anachronism.

It got me thinking about how much we have lost, in our seemingly endless quest for the latest gadget. When did we get on this treadmill? The more relevant question is, why?

There are other examples of devices that seem to have reached a point of perfection, before sliding down a slippery slope on the back of consumerism. Italian racing bicycles are a good example. There are few things more suited to their purpose than steel-framed bicycles from Bianchi or Colnago, especially when kitted out with high-end components from manufacturers like Campagnolo. Just like my camera, they are perfectly suited to one job, and they were built to last.

The curious thing is that the apex for many such devices was reached at about the same time. The mid-to-late 1970s seem to have been a watershed period. After that time, something changed. An endless push for profit ensured ever-decreasing quality. Offshoring of production and substitution of parts with (usually) plasticky alternatives sealed the fate of manufacturers who had built their reputation by designing equipment that could last indefinitely.

From the consumer point of view, we came to accept this trend, because rapidly changing tastes made it less likely we would want to hold onto one product for a lifetime anyway. Fashion, which has always been at the forefront of the throwaway mindset, became a model for how other goods were marketed.

No one stops to ask if there is an alternative to the mania that accompanies each new release of the latest iPhone or the newest gee-whiz electronic gadget. To my mind, it does nothing but ensure that we will be putting a lot of material in landfills, as last year’s devices are cast aside just before they fail.

All of this makes it more satisfying that I can still pick up a camera that is older than I am and take pictures that are every bit as impactful as those coming out of the latest high-resolution, high-frame speed digital monster. Maybe more so, in fact.

Posing for her portrait, Leica M3 and Ilford Delta 100 film, 2022

When I travel with my M3, I don’t have to worry about chargers or SD cards. When I estimate the exposure with my brain, and when I get it right, there is no feeling that can compare. Sure, not all my shots are keepers, but that’s the quest that makes it worthwhile. Even the wait for my film to be processed seems to enhance the experience.

And when I’m done, I will be able to pass this wonderful machine onto my sons, knowing that with a bit of care it will serve them well for their lifetime too. How’s that for sustainability?

Running and Thermodynamics

In his book, “Running with the Pack”, philosopher Mark Rowlands makes some interesting observations about evolution. His essay, “The Serpent of Eden” starts by explaining the first and second laws of thermodynamics. While this immediately caught my attention as a chemical engineer, it may not resonate with everyone.

Basically, the preposition of the first law is that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; it can only be converted from one form into another. The second law states that any closed system (like the universe, or like us as entities within it) tends towards maximum disorder.

So, what does this have to do with running?

Well, Rowlands makes a rather neat argument that can be paraphrased as follows: because we evolved as creatures in a world where our stores of energy rely on us converting it from another source, there is a predisposition for us, as conscious beings, to focus on the competitive forces that allow us to continue living. Human beings are highly complex, closed systems, and for us to survive (that is, to avoid maximum disorder) we must compete for energy. And to do that, we must get it from another source.

Said another way, we tend to focus on those things that affect our ability to continue the competition… to stay alive. This is nothing more than the natural result of our evolutionary makeup. (Of course, the end game is predetermined, but let’s put that aside for a minute.)

Think about this. When you are running, and things are going especially well, what do you notice? Are you conscious of your heart and lungs and legs all doing their job efficiently, just as they were designed to do? No, of course not. They just get on with their job, and you enjoy the intrinsic benefits without even thinking about it.

Instead, what we tend to notice, as conscious, competitive beings, are the things that aren’t going so well. That niggling pain in your knee, or the stitch in your side, or any number of other ailments is what gets your attention. You do notice these things because, as Rowlands suggests, our brains have evolved to notice when things aren’t going well.

Rowlands gives further depth to his argument, with reference to the work of the great philosopher, Schopenhauer. And frankly, some of his observations are a bit depressing. Schopenhauer observes that because we are so highly evolved, with cognitive abilities like memory and anticipation, abilities that other creatures don’t possess, we are especially sensitive to our place in the grand thermodynamic scheme of things.

If the universe is destined to end up with maximum disorder, we might rightly ask ourselves why we bother. After all, what’s the point if we will all end up as worm food?

That’s where the Rowlands piece shines. He points out that as human beings, we have evolved as social creatures precisely because that improves our odds in the unrelenting competition for energy. The bonds that keep us together… mutual recognition, affection, love… can be seen as small bits of defiance against overwhelming odds, in a universe where the rules of the game are stacked firmly against us.

My advice is that the next time you are out running, you should spare a thought for the amazing confluence of conditions that had to go well for you to even be out there at all. The very fact that you exist is in defiance of the laws of thermodynamics, at least for the time being.

And the next time you are out running with your gang, give some consideration to them, as what Schopenhauer referred to as, “my fellow sufferers”. Since we are all in this together, it is only right that we should have some tolerance and patience with each other. As Rowlands says, “Every act of kindness we show to someone or something is a defiance of the spirit of the laws that made us”. Defiance may be futile, but it is still valuable.