Letter to The Garden Island

This was published in the December 4th edition of Kaua'is The Garden Island newspaper.

Let science dictate, not money

On Nov. 21, TGI published a letter from a Canadian engineer named Tom Harris which disputes the evidence behind climate change. He claims that the Earth may actually be cooling and that “extreme weather events are not affected by our emissions of greenhouse gasses.”

I found it curious that a Canadian engineer would be writing a letter to The Garden Island, so I did a bit of research.  

1) Tom Harris began his career as a lobbyist for the fossil fuel industry.  

2) Tom Harris is a senior fellow at the Heartland Institute.  This institute exists to undermine the science behind climate change and is funded in part by the notorious Koch brothers.  Their most recent advertising campaign was a spree of billboards comparing those who believe in climate change to terrorists.   

3) The panel that he cites in his letter (NIPCC) consists of 23 citizens who are paid $300,000 a year by the Heartland institute.

I don’t mean to personally discredit Mr. Harris, because I’m sure he believes what he says. He is likely just as sincere and passionate about the continued use of fossil fuels as I am about preserving the natural wonders of Kaua‘i.

However, the difference between us is that he gets paid for his passion. Fossil fuel companies pay him and every outspoken climate change denier in the world to speak up. Their job is to muddy the discussion just enough so that our society will continue with the status quo. So that the people who write his paycheck can continue to run the most profitable companies in the history of the world.

There have been 13,950 peer reviewed articles on climate change published since 1991. Of those, only 24 reject the evidence behind anthropogenic climate change. Other than the theory of gravity, there are not many theories out there with that type of overwhelming consensus.  

By listening to men such as Mr. Harris, we are letting the future of our planet be dictated not by science, but by money.

Luke Evslin

The Unpublished Letter

Last week a letter was published in the Garden Island disputing the science of climate change.  I sent in a rebuttal, but it was never published.  Since I put a good hour of my life into that letter, I feel like it needs to be seen by someone.  So, for the 17 unique visitors to this blog, here's my letter (I took the name of the original writer out, because it's a bit too much of a personal attack to have on a blog called Life, Love, and Awareness):

In a letter to the editor on 08/12, Mr. ___ dismisses the mountain of scientific evidence behind anthropogenic climate change as simply “anecdotal conditions.”  I am sorry Mr. ___, but you are wrong and your ignorance is staggering.  

The climate is warming beyond the range of natural variability.  The major cause of most of that warming is rising levels of Co2.  Carbon Dioxide levels are rising because we burn fossil fuels.  As we continue to burn fossil fuels, the warming will continue.  Over the next century, climate change represents a danger to human welfare and the environment.

That’s not just my liberal opinion or just the viewpoint of the subject of your letter’s attack, Michael Mann.  That’s the endorsed conclusions of: Nasa’s Goddard Institute of Space Studies, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the National Academy of Sciences, the Environmental Protection Agency, the American Institute of Physics, the National Center for Atmospheric Research, the American Meteorological Society, and the equivalent scientific agencies of the following countries: China, France, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, United Kingdom, Australia, Finland, Indonesia, Ireland, New Zealand, Sweden, and Malaysia, just to name a few.

With your letter, you single handedly dismiss the findings of nearly every scientific agency in the world.  Normally, I wouldn’t care what you believe.  But, when we need to be doing everything we can to fight climate change and reverse humanity’s course, we can’t put up with the ignorance that you spout.  We have one planet and one shot to make a difference.  We need a historically unprecedented shift in the way we view our relationship with the environment.  And Mr. _____, you’re not helping.  

*Edit-- The letter just got published today: The Garden Island

Night Invasion

We were startled out of bed at 2 am to the sound of popping and furious quacking.  Since our duck (Issie) is our first line of defense against visitors (I know that that sounds anti-social), our first groggy thought was that our Yurt was being attacked. “Pop... quack quack quack... pop.”  No night creature (of which we have lots) had ever made a sound even remotely similar. I’m usually not one to conjure up scary images at night, but my mind quickly went through the possibilities.  Swamp creature, ghost, gangster, or alien.  All seemed equally plausible.  And the popping was either a form of communication, the sound of bull frogs being digested, or a laser gun prepping our Yurt for imminent attack.  In an unusually brave mood, I got out of bed and went for my Machete (attackers beware, I keep it close to bed) and our super duper flashlight.  Sokchea furiously whispered for me not to do it... But, with the periodic “pop” followed by furious quacking still going on, I had no choice but to prepare for battle to save Issie, my wife, and all of the other animal members of our Yurt. 

I slowly opened the door, snuck out on to our deck, and then illuminated our yard with the super flashlight.  Forty-three toad eyes shined defiantly back at me.  Could it be that they were ammassing for battle?  Then I heard the pop directly below me.  It distinctly came from the small island we have in the middle of our pond.  Since I was far beyond concealment, I quickly ran down the steps to get a better view of the island.  And, then I saw it.  For a split second it looked as if a demon gorilla had set up camp on the island.  As the slow working innards of my brain finally turned over, I realized I was staring into the eyes of a boar.  And then, in defiance of me, he put his head down and picked up one of the 14 eggs that Issie had been proudly brooding for the last three weeks.  “POP,” as he crushes the nearly full term duckling in his mouth and Issie goes wild from my side of the pond.

I yelled at him as he took his time finishing the egg.  He slowly turned around and literally dove into the water to swim to shore.  And then he was gone.  The only way to get to the island (without wading through the muddy bottom) is to walk across a single piece of bamboo that I keep for that purpose.  I scampered across to find a pile of egg-shells and one remaining egg.  Since Issie has never seen a duckling or been a mother, I’m not sure how well she understood what just happened.  But, as mournful as a duck can be, she stood on the bank uttering the occasional quiet quack.  She didn’t bother swimming back across that night, as she knew what awaited her.  But, for most of the next day she just stood looking at the remains of her family.  

And that is why we need a fence.  Or at least a non-vegetarian with a gun.  

Can't Stop the Screaming (Pipes)

There is something about water pressure that screams "civilization."  The rest of the technological markers don’t come close.  Humans have been using fire for hundreds of thousands of years.  So all the variations of that (light-bulb, oven, toaster, etc) are passé.  But, to have a waterfall at your disposal?  That is the highest marker of human achievement.  Unfortunately, our gravity fed water-catchment system works perfectly in every sense except for that one.  It takes an eternity to fill a coffee pot.  The wind blows our shower water away.  I have to get about a foot away from my garden to effectively water it.  Washing dishes takes an entire evening.  Until yesterday…

I finally pulled the trigger and installed a Davey Torium 14-45 booster pump (just the name makes me giddy).  After just one burst valve and a drenched Iphone we were ready to go.  We went from a pressure gauge that never moved to a solid and consistent 70 PSI.  The difference is incredible.  Our shower literally roars when you turn it on.  Washing dishes has become fun.  And watering the garden?  I can do it all without getting off my deck.  The wild chickens in the yard don't stand a chance against my hose.

I went to sleep thinking that we’d finally reached the pinnacle of off-grid living and joined the ranks of the civilized.  We had every amenity that you could ever hope for in a grid-tied house. But something was wrong.  The water pressure felt forced and artificial.  Our barely dripping faucet used to be a constant reminder that we could live with less; that water pressure was a luxury that we didn’t need.  The slow and laminar flow of the water out of our faucet was a daily check to take it easy.  That water couldn’t be rushed.  That it would move with a pressure mathematically pre-determined by the height from the waterline in the tank to the faucet.  And there was no bending that. 

But I did more than bend it.  I took our laminar flow and cranked it up 700%.  The roar of the shower and the kickback of our faucet are now reminders that, no matter how hard we try, we are not peacefully co-existing members of this Earth.  We are hard-wired to lord over the elements and all of nature.

The scary part is that I could undo all of it with a simple turn of three valves.  Cut off flow to the pump and let gravity do it’s thing.  But there is no going back now.  As much as my Thoreauean ideals tell me to turn it off, I can’t do it.  Something deep inside of me just woke up.  And I can admit that I love my screaming pipes.

Our Life

We went from an ordinary couple in a nice house in suburban Kailua to the crazy hippies in the forest.  When I used to see friends on the street they would start the conversation by saying “how’s business?”  Now they say “how is it up there,” with a hint of mockery. 
           In most respects, we're as conservative as people in their mid-twenties come.  We don’t smoke, we rarely drink, and we believe in “the system.”  I run a business and spend most of my day on the computer.  The highlight of our social schedule is to hang out with my niece and nephews.  Our nightly routine is to light some candles, cuddle on the couch, drink a cup of tea, and read a book.  Yet, last night a duck slept by our bed.  Once a month I bury our semi-composted shit in the ground.  We drink only rainwater.  Today all I’ve eaten is a lilikoi I found in the hau and a papaya from our neighbors tree.  The biggest tragedy of recent memory is pigs wiping out my taro.  Our biggest inconvenience is the 15 bull frogs that moved into our ponds and keep us up at night.  Our biggest success is six beautiful star fruit from our tree. 

So who are we and what are we doing?  We’re not hippies, conspiracy theorists, revolutionaries, or even libertarians.  I believe in big government and “the grid.” I believe that we should support those who can’t support themselves.  But, I  also believe that there are some fundamental problems with the society that I’ve supported all my life.  We’ve lost touch with our surroundings, are losing touch with each other, and are entirely dependent on infinite growth.  We’ve built a civilization that will collapse if it doesn’t grow and we've convinced ourselves that humans can live outside of Earth's ecology.  From the first light of consciousness, we are taught to consume.  Turn on the TV or open a magazine and it’s almost entirely about consumption.  We have become hard-wired to live beyond our means.  

So, while there isn’t a title for who we are, for once I do know what I’m doing.    We are trying to live with what we have.  If it’s a cloudy day, we turn off our power at night.  If it doesn’t rain, we don’t use the washing machine.  If my chickens don’t lay eggs, we don’t eat eggs.  We are trying our best to become producers, not merely consumers.  And in the three months that we’ve been disconnected from “the grid,” we’ve started to connect to the planet.  This isn’t an experiment anymore.  This is our life. 

However, I know it’s not the life for everyone.  Even though I rarely use my truck and we produce our own electricity and water, our  impact is still likely larger than the average city-dweller.  And many times larger than the average subsistence farmer in a third world country. But, it’s a start.  For a couple with basically no survival knowledge, we’re making big strides.  A year ago I’d never planted a tree, I didn’t know AC from DC power, I didn’t know that the full moon rises at sunset, and I didn’t know Permaculture from Agriculture.  I’m still an infant when it comes to all of that.  I have 100,000 years of forgotten human knowledge to catch up on.  But we’re moving forward.

Smart Meters

Am I turning into the crazy guy in the woods who rants daily letters to the paper?  I hope not, but sometimes I worry.  And I know my wife does.  This was in Saturday's Garden Island.  

I dream of a sustainable Kaua’i.  One where we grow our own food and produce our own electricity.  Where we live with the resources we have without having to import those we don’t.

Then I wake up.  I read the letters in The Garden Island and I realize that it’s not going to happen.  Depending on the month, all we can talk about is the greatness of our cars, the sleaziness of a Co-Op that explores renewable energy, the inefficiencies of solar water heaters, or the health affects of Smart Meters.  We are looking backward at a time that we need to look forward.

Smart Meters are not some evil conspiracy for world domination by our local energy cooperative.  We have the potential to revolutionize our inefficient and outdated energy infrastructure.  Yet we are stuck debating whether the occasional burst of information from the Smart Meter is going to kill us or whether KIUC is going to sell our energy use information to the highest bidder.

Smart Meter technology is the first step towards a Smart Grid, which is one huge step towards energy independence.  Energy supply will accurately meet demand, but demand will be tempered by accurate pricing.  Those who use energy wisely (off-peak) will be rewarded, while those who don’t will pay the actual costs of that electricity generation.

We can live in the past, when oil was cheap, climate change a myth, jobs plentiful, homes worth something, and government worked.  Or we can look to the future.   

One Year

It's been one year since we began this blog. I was hoping to write a happy update about all being perfect in Yurtville, but... that's far from the truth. We just got back from a 10 day trip to New York. Our home, which we'd left in close to perfect shape, is in disarray.

- I'm writing on an IPhone because my Internet tethering no longer works.

- Our catchment tank is inexplicably empty. 4,000 gallons of water vanished through some leak.

- We are officially at war with the rats. After catching five rats in a row and realizing that they were just walking in under the flap of the canvas, we finally sealed it with cable the day we left. But, the unforgiving rats have chewed holes in the canvas in two places. From the inside and the outside.

- In June I planted about 40 'Uala (sweet potato) starts. Since then they've filled in beautifully around my ponds. However, the pigs picked up on the lack of human presence and destroyed both patches.

- The day we left I planted in our garden about 50 Kale and Arrugula starts that I'd seeded a couple of weeks prior. They are all gone. Presumably the ducks and chickens wiped them out.

- A few days before we left I seeded about 20 Balinese Papaya trees. Every pot has been cleaned out. Presumably by the chickens.

I'm going to sleep.