Saturday, July 22, 2017


I love to drive. It's one of my passions. For me, there's nothing better than getting in my car, load it up with gas, some provisions, a good map and gps, some great music and a fun driving companion and heading out on the open road with eyes and ears wide open. I've taken many road trips, and most of those have been chronicled in past blogs.

Recently, a good friend of mine, Doug Hunks, introduced a topic for conversation. The topic was autonomous cars. Like me, Doug is a good driver and loves road trips. We spent the next several hours weighing the pros and cons of cars that have the ability to drive themselves. Our arguments covered the gamut of well-worn issues. We agreed that autonomous cars have the potential to greatly reduce collisions caused by drivers who are intoxicated or unskilled or distracted. But what of those countless people who make their living from driving motor vehicles: truck drivers, bus drivers, taxi drivers, delivery and courier people etc ? What of the risk of hacking and corruption of the technology that controls the performance of the cars? And what about the loss of the sheer pleasure of driving a car? We didn't come to any substantial conclusion about autonomous cars. But we knew one thing for certain: they were sure to be on our roads sooner than we think.

Autonomous cars are, of course, only a small sector of a much larger issue. We are on the cusp of a revolution in technology. The dawn of artificial intelligence, like autonomous cars, is staring us in the face. Are we ready for this brave new world? And are we prepared for the seismic shift in how technology will change our lives and how we fit in to the new universe it will create?

In the early nineteenth century in Britain, a famous labour movement, the Luddites, gained notoriety for smashing textile looms in many factories. The leader of the movement was said to be a man by the name of Ned Lud who stirred up his fellow workers because of the increased use of automated looms in the factories. The violence grew and eventually became a series of riots which pitted workers against the factory owners and, in turn, the British government. Many of the leaders of the movement were arrested and put on trial. A few were executed in order to send a stern warning to the general population about such challenges to authority.

In fact, Ned Lud never existed. He became a type of "Robin Hood" fiction that was meant either to stir up support for the movement among the working class, or to create fear in the upper classes who owned textile mills and other manufacturing establishments and make them distrust anyone who agitated for better conditions for workers. The common misconception about the Luddites is that they were against new technology: that is only partially true. The Luddites' main contention was that the machines were making the amount of time spent learning how to work in the factories useless and counter-productive. Their reasoning was that, if the machines were going to be in the factories, it would be time better spent learning how to operate and repair the machines themselves. Whatever the real reason for the rebellion, the Luddites became associated with anyone who was or is against new technology and the word now means a cranky technology-hater or a person who refuses to learn or accept new technologies.

Few people would suggest that the Luddites were right to do what they did. And few people today would suggest that we should somehow return to a form of Luddism in today's world. Indeed, most people enjoy the freedom and information that new technology brings. We marvel at the advancements in technology that seem to occur daily. We embrace technology willingly and believe that technological advancement is natural and inevitable.

This would be scanned.

One of my previous blogs was on the topic of artificial intelligence. The blog was inspired by my reading of Ray Kurzweil's book "The Singularity is Near". In this book, Kurzweil wrote about the imminent arrival of what he called the "singularity" or a new bio-tech life form that combines the best of biological humanity with the head-long race to create AI. Kurzweil was something of a prophet for the new creation and waxed positively evangelical on its benefits. I was shocked, sceptical and, quite honestly, frightened by what he wrote about. Images of "Blade Runner" and "The Terminator" raced through my brain as I contemplated Kurzweil's future world.

I've had some time to live with the notion of the Singularity. I even adopted a fatalistic sense of humour about the whole thing, believing in the old song of humans making "good pets" for the new, greater and far more intelligent and capable creatures.

I'm no Luddite. I don't believe we should storm the laboratories and headquarters of all the tech companies in the world, setting fire to all the super-computers, smashing all the data storage devices and rounding up all the scientists and technicians who are selling our future for monetary gain. I recognize and accept the general notion that change is inevitable and necessary.

But I do believe there will be serious consequences for all of us when the new technology is perfected and the Singularity makes its messianic debut. It becomes a question of what will the new world order look and feel like, and what will happen to the majority of us who are a bit slower and less able to adapt to it? Will it become a matter of "adapt or die", as social Darwinists would suggest? And what will happen to all of those whose livelihoods will disappear ? Yes, there will be new opportunities not even dreamed of yet. But the transition will be difficult, tumultuous, perhaps even violent. History teaches us that all such transitions have been so.

When I was young, our vision of the future was largely framed by the cartoon series "The Jetsons". The future for us was to be a fun one, with flying cars, humorous domestic robots, travels to outer space and instantaneous communication. Well, I'm still waiting for my flying car, but the other items are either here now, or soon to be here. So, we should all relax, right?

Well, as we grew up, "The Jetsons" were replaced by "Star Trek", and the afore-mentioned "Blade Runner" and "The Terminator" movies and shows. Technology became a little darker, a little more threatening and laden with serious consequences. At some point, perhaps, we should have applied the brakes and started to ask ourselves if this should be continued. Perhaps we would have arrived at a collective answer of "yes" because we all believe in the permanence of change. But a conversation may have been able to tackle the ethical and social issues surrounding the changes. And there have been some precedents for turning back the inevitable march of technological progress: nuclear proliferation comes to mind.

I, for one, would love to have that conversation. But, to the best of my knowledge, there is no such conversation happening anywhere. Political, economic and scientific leadership is oblivious or, at the very worst, complicit in avoiding the topic. And the rest of us ? Well, we love our smart phones and tablets. We have become willing participants to the gradual dumbing-down of society as we expect our machines to do our thinking for us. We become impressed at the increasing abilities and talents that we used to be able to do for ourselves, but are now done by our clever machines, as though the machines are our precocious children. And we want more of it. We should be careful what we wish for.

Perhaps the horse is already out of the barn. But I'd like to believe that we still have some time. I'm not saying that we should turn back time and become less technologically savvy. I, too, use technology, not terribly well mind you, but I use it and appreciate it. But I still think we need to have the conversation on the ethics and necessity of rampant technological advancement.

Just so we know what to do or say when the machines take over.

Friday, June 2, 2017


Yesterday started out well enough. I awoke early and drove up to my favourite paddling place, the Oxtongue River and Lake. The conditions were not perfect, but they were good enough for the first paddle of the season. I rented a nice little kayak, slipped into the water and spent two nice hours in the cool, breezy environment of the near north. There's nothing like being out on a lake all alone, piloting my craft among the rushes and under the rock face of the lake. As I headed out to see Ragged Falls, the wind picked up and I had to really work against the breeze which, in some spots, had quite a long fetch and seemed to stop me in my strokes. I persevered and got back safely, feeling good about myself and a little sore: but a good sore from a great workout. When I got back to Newmarket, I drove in to the Lion pub and enjoyed a cold refreshing beer to contemplate my day. And that's when things fell apart.

On the TV above the bar, Donald Trump, the moron put in the White House by equally moronic voters, was making a grand speech about pulling the US out of the Paris environmental accord. As I sipped my beverage, I became increasingly enraged by the pompous, ignorant ass masquerading as a statesman. The other people in the pub grew quiet as the man-child delivered his speech. The low volume comments from my fellow drinkers were as negative as my thoughts. I was partly relieved to hear their critical comments about Trump, but my own rage at this travesty grew with each laboured word the oaf spoke. I could hardly sit still. And that's when it hit me. I wasn't really listening to a blowhard talking about withdrawing from an environmental accord: I was really listening to a tyrant declaring war on the entire world.

For most of its history, the United States was a country that tried, as much as possible, to withdraw itself from the rest of the world. It wasn't until the late decades of the nineteenth century that the US became a player in world affairs. It had finally recovered its wealth, manpower and confidence after the disaster of its Civil War and was ready to cast a wider net. With the involvement of the US in World War One, the quest for isolation was gone forever. And with that, the imperial characteristic of the US, the world's largest military power, the world's wealthiest nation, the world's "policeman", the world's greatest superpower, was born. And it could not resist meddling in the affairs of other nations.

With that, and with several spectacular failures of this world domination, such as the Vietnam War, the failure to gain peace in the Middle East and the rise of global terrorism, American confidence in itself was shaken. It should have recovered with the end of the Cold War in the late 1980' and early 1990's, and for a time it looked like it had with the establishment of the "New World Order".

But that was as ephemeral as a cloud on a windy day. Terrorism has proven to be unsolvable and Americans now have their confidence replaced by a deep, lasting and visceral fear of the rest of the world. This fear is as irrational as it is prevalent. Many Americans know very little about the wider world: indeed the US is one of the few developed countries where a large number of its citizens do not have passports and have a very real fear of travel. It is this fear, this ignorance, and this unwillingness to accept others that has given rise to the xenophobia that Trump and those of his ilk have capitalized on in order to gain power.

Trump has spent the early weeks of his administration denigrating other nations. During the election campaign, he famously raged on about the creation of a wall along the Mexican border to paid by the Mexican government itself. He claimed that the majority of Mexican and other illegal immigrants were thieves, rapists and drug dealers. He criticised NATO and claimed that it was "obsolete", citing the legitimate grievance of the US having carried the lion's share of defence spending among its other NATO allies as a reason for its disdain of a largely European alliance. He effectively killed the world's largest trade agreement, the Trans-Pacific Partnership while it was still in its infancy. He informed all of us in North America that he was about to rip up the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) claiming that in the negotiations creating NAFTA, the US was out-negotiated by the con-men in Mexico and Canada. He further singled out Canada for what he termed as unfair trade practices in lumber and dairy exports. He launched cruise missile strikes into Yemen for negligible reasons and with negligible results. He bodily pushed himself ahead of the Prime Minister of Montenegro during the recent G20 meetings in order to put himself front and centre among the other leaders, not caring about the impropriety of the act.

And now this. As I listened to his rambling and repetitive speech, which coiled around issues such as the environment, international trade, military alliances and xenophobia, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the reasonable Americans who were listening to this buffoon speak for them. Trump has played his favourite card again: about ripping something up in order to renegotiate that which he has just destroyed, ostensibly to get a better deal "for Pittsburgh, not Paris." He singled out China and India, which are terrible polluters it must be admitted, as the main culprits for environmental damage. But he also claimed that those nations were the main beneficiaries from the loss of economic power the US has been suffering as a result of what he called a bad environmental deal. While he was calling the US the victim of all this international dealing, he continued to trumpet the fact that the US has the highest standard of living in the world. How can a nation have the "highest standard of living in the world" yet be constantly beaten in international bilateral accords and have its economy repeatedly raped by foreigners ? This doesn't seem to be a contradiction to him.

And so the world is left with this. The United States has officially left the Paris Accord, the Trans-Pacific Partnership, has threatened NATO and the United Nations with more lack of support, and has actively angered allied and partnered nations like Mexico, Canada, France, Germany, most of the rest of Europe, China and India. It has thrown down a gauntlet of challenge to the world: either cower in fear at the colossal anger of the US and beg for forgiveness and renegotiation of treaties and trade deals, or face the absence of the US from the world. Trump's world order would seem to build a symbolic and partly actual wall around the US and keep all foreigners out. His hope, and the hope and need of his supporters, is for the world to sink to its knees and ask for the US to please come back. Either that, or hope for US bombs and missiles to rain down on the world in a type of Yankee-Doodle self-righteous Armageddon.

But the world has another option: just don't pay attention to the American temper tantrum. Already, we have heard Macron of France, Merkle of Germany and Trudeau of Canada express disappointment at the US and a determination to work together without the US on important issues. We have heard from the surviving members  of the Trans-Pacific Partnership to continue to discuss formalizing the trade deal minus the Americans. And the Mexicans have essentially told Trump to shove his wall where the sun doesn't shine: if there's to be a wall, it will not be built with Mexican money.

This could be a long and nasty war. We must hope that it won't be fought with actual bombs or bullets, but rather with words and torn-up agreements. Whatever the means, it is obvious that we have embarked on another world war: the world vs the United States of America.

But the world knows that the only way to stand up to a bloviating, bloated bully is to be forceful and determined, and to work together. Perhaps when Trump sees this spirit of defiance in the world and even in parts of his own country, he'll try to play nice. After all, that's what spoiled bratty children usually do.

As for me, I should've stayed up at Oxtongue and paddled my way into contentment.