Microcosm Societies

Before I had ever lived in a camp, I read Microserfs by Douglas Coupland. The title is far more clever than I ever gave it credit for while reading it. It is a play on Microsoft, on feudal social structures, and general computer nerd-dom, which, I suppose, is as far as I took it while reading the book. Living in camps though, the idea of microserfs, the peasants of the smallest microcosms of a society, becomes fascinating, far from the confines of computerized LEGO programming in Silicon Valley.

Like Coupland's imaginary startup, a camp has its visionaries, its leaders, its middle class and its serfs. The social structure is a rigid caste, and the only thing that keeps the society functioning is that there is the promise of life after camp. People come to a camp to pay for what they do when they go home. To pay for lives that do not include the people they spend most of their time with. It is a weird dynamic. Imagine a water cooler conversation where no one will ever know anything about anyone else, where no one did anything over the weekend, and where there are not plans for the coming weekend. One functions in this environment because they have to.

In all camps, there is a hierarchy. It is essential that people have a leader, as anarchism simply does not get a job done. These duchesses and feudal lords can be brutal or kind, just as any others. They may plan for the winter, or their fiefdoms may starve. It is impossible to know before one has been in the camp what the leadership is like. Leadership though, is strange. In the Medieval period, these microcosms worked because an army backed the leader, and the leader backed the army. A symbiosis occurred at all levels of the chain, where the over- and underlying social strata agreed where everyone was. In a camp there is no army, instead, there is the upcoming Visa bill.

We are all Visa's indentured servants in these microcosms. Maybe a person has no debt, maybe a person always pays cash, but in the end, we owe now or in the future, and we know that we must fill our role in order to make that payment. It is the army of creditors that keeps a camp in check, there is no symbiosis.

This, makes something of a leadership vacuum. The camp leaders lead only by directing the work, yet s/he who directs the work does have power. If the leader is a fan of a football team, days when that team plays may end early, the basketball enthusiasts lose out. If the leader likes to run in the mornings, the morning meeting will be later. If they like an early dinner, workers will be early to their jobs, but back at the mess when the food is served. The power comes from the little things.

Who gets the power? How do they keep it? Like in any political struggle, the key players start to show their hand, and the knights, rooks, and pawns move into position. The power positions in a camp are the same as chess, and society. The king is all powerful, but crippled by the burdens of leadership. Their second, the queen is more powerful, s/he faces the conundrum of Lady Galadriel, to be pure and good, a champion of the pawns, or to become all powerful dark sorceresses. In either case, the queen may, intentionally or not, seek to usurp the king. Lastly, are the bishops. These are the hidden players, they control the conscience of the serfs, and thus, wield power that the king and queen can only demand. Pawns are the first to choose sides.

In minerals exploration, the pawns are usually the locals. They are infinitely replaceable, yet impossible to control. They see the whole camp establishment as outsiders. Often, race or ethnicity complicate relations between the monarchy and the serfs. They have nothing to lose in their meager existence, and so they are eager to choose sides with the person who gives the most present, and often petty rewards. If the bishop offers a workday that is 10 minutes shorter, the bishop will win the pawns. Yet, the pawns are the downfall of s/he who controls them. For the locals want things that are often contrary to the desires of the more loyal, more skilled knights, who will triumph against the pawns every time.

Knights in the camp society get the work done. They have a platoon of serfs behind them, but they get samples submitted, they log core, they run the computers, they collect the data, and deliver the goods. In the camp power struggle, the knights will win the battle. Yet, an exploration campaign, like a war, is not about a battle, but the compound effect of many battles. In order for one to win the war, a strong position must be held through many skirmishes. For these, one looks to the rooks.

Rooks, in the camp society are consultants and technical experts. The knights can win the battles fought today, but the rooks win the battles that will be fought tomorrow. The rooks are motivated by entirely different things. Rooks are motivated by professional reputation, by what happens outside of camp, more than within. From the top of their battlements, a rook can see what tomorrow will bring beyond the confines of the short field campaign.

From my tower, for I fancy myself a rook, I can watch the battles ebb, and the tides turn. I see racial and ethnic tensions flare, and the knights rally around their banner. I have time to sit, and ponder, in this microcosm society, who are the allies I want to maintain when I leave this camp? Who will bring me the most benefit when I deliver my fealty? It will never be the bishop, s/he lacks the wherewithal in my networks. It may be the king or queen, or with enough ambition, I can usurp even these leaders. So I, and the other fortresses watch, listen, and wait.

All of this, requires that outside force. The creditors, whether they be from the Bank of America, or the Society of Economic Geologists, we all seek the value placed on us by those outside camp. In this way alone, we are truly a microcosm of society. The technicians are microserfs, not only because we are a microcosm, but because they are more insignificant than the feudal serf. They are nameless, and ephemeral, they are but leaves on a tree, inconsequential today, and forgotten by fall. The brave knights, who fight for the banner of their fancy, they are no more influential in society. They are not minuscule because this is a camp of 50, but because this is a country of 300,000,000. This microcosm functions not independent of society, but dependent upon society.

While I wile away hours with an iPod, and an endless cylinder of rock, I contemplate why people work. Why people live in these camps the way they do. I watch the power struggles, and I come back to the same idea again and again, they do this because they will leave here. I wonder then, what would a truly micro-society look like? What will be the dynamics of the Mars One team, when they land with no intention of returning? What will keep them going? There is no creditor, there is no army, there is no future, just today, for the rest of their lives. In this strange world, I wonder, will there be microserfs?

Travels with Charlie: In Search of Walden

A problem I have with most philosophical writing is that I often doubt the philosopher really ever thought about human thought.  I will not claim to not suffer from this same problem, but I also do not often claim to understand how people think.  America lacks well known philosophers in the European tradition of philosophy.  Reaching back to undergraduate coursework, I think that Americans tend to be pragmatic.  I do not know much about philosophy from the Americas, but I would hazard a guess that two things permeate the thinking of all those who live on North or South America, Jesus and pragmatism.

While I think it is pretty clear that Jesus is probably the most influential philosopher, tied only with other religious leaders, discussing the role of Jesus in American philosophy is certainly fun, it is a bit like talking about Plato's influence on European philosophy.  It is interesting, but if everyone is influenced by it the discussion only takes you so far, and not quite to a truck named Rocinante.

When I read Thoreau, there were definitely transcendental overtures.  Without society, the farmer would be content with feeding his family.  It is the influence of the wealthy, not the will of ice cutters to engage in their peculiar endeavors to satisfy the desire to have cold in the summer (I am somewhat skeptical on this).  Yet, is someone who fills pages with drivel about the savings of a used window and the nurturing qualities of the sublimely cheap and cultivatable legume really a transcendentalist?  To me, this is the land of pragmatism.  Iterations of method and reasoning until reaching the most intelligent practice.

Pragmatic or transcendental, I cannot help but feel that Thoreau never went to Walden, never built a cabin, and not once did he talk to someone.  Sarah, after listening to people talk about having "been" to a place without leaving the airport, decided that you had to buy dental floss in a place before you had been there.  We have argued endlessly about this.  "What if they do not sell dental floss there, has anyone ever been to Antarctica," I tease her with a smug grin?  I agree with her at times, but I want to "go" to Oklahoma without staying long enough to necessitate buying dental floss (just buying a toiletry every time one travels is apparently cheating).  I think more importantly is going to a place as a blank slate, to allow the place to imprint upon you so you leave the place a new person.  Without intending to throw stones from my glass house, I do not think Thoreau ever considered not judging beforehand a single experience in his writings.

I recall a philosopher, and I want to credit Emerson, with writing ideas along this line.  He asks why one would travel if one brings a decided mind, and leaves unchanged?  I agree with him.  Yet, this is far easier to write than to do.  When I visit Oklahoma I am bound to be unimpressed.  I hope though, that I can be surprised if there are grounds to be surprised.  Like a scientific experiment carried out to verify the results of a previous study, a travel destination may not be unexpected.  In the mundane or expected one can still grow as a person, just as knowledge grows when a previous experiment is verified.

Thoreau, in Walden, does not grow.  He begins by whinging about trains rushing people around, and ends the same way.  He further proves that he is equally susceptible to the corruption of society by leaving his cabin on a pond to pursue new windows and meals priced for experience rather than sustenance.  Inevitably, he walked away changed.  He grew older, and solitude changes people in ways that cannot be anticipated.  Yet, I do not think Walden changed him.

Steinbeck left his vacation home in conflict.  He felt he had lost America, and without judging him too harshly, I would probably agree that when your concern is the sinking of your sailboat the suffering of the masses is far removed from your mind.  In Travels with Charlie though, I find that Charlie is the one who is discovering America.  Steinbeck ensured that he had his comfortable bubble of wealth along with him.  No dog would ever turn down a warm dry bed, but Charlie was unaware that he was insulated from the reality of other dogs or people, he was open to let the smells of each new place imprint upon him an experience with no preconceived ideas.

In Walden and Travels with Charlie, I get the distinct impression that the authors have managed to write the exact same book, and could have written the book without ever leaving their arm chairs.  While Walden is often dull (poor grammar destroys even the best story, it is no wonder that the comma and the novel appeared at about the same time), it is often insightful.  Thoreau also records observations of nature, that are being used to help measure climate change.  Such naturalism could not be recorded from an arm chair, but the ideas certainly could be.  While sitting in a heated home, at a laptop, connected to the internet through a smart phone I can write a passage about how the people who live in this town have been corrupted by society.  They are enslaved by a society that tells them they need a TV, a car, and all the trappings of modernity.  They should be out enjoying the beauty and wonders of nature.  While that statement is hypocritical, I do not need to be out in nature if I have already decided that being in nature is the more noble pursuit.  Travels with Charlie is much more pleasing to read, but in the end, it is more of the same.

Instead, I think Hunter S. Thompson had it more correct.  He went out searching for the American Dream.  In Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, he fails to find it, but I do not think he knew what it was.  He pursued the knowledge without preconceived ideas.  Further, he sought the American Dream, not America.  Without delving too far into Greek philosophy, are there not two things?  Is there not America and the Idea of America?

This, I think, is the important question when talking about these two important American creations.  Searching for America is not possible.  There is no America, only the idea of it.  In its ideal form, America may be many things, but to know America is to know the idea of America.  You cannot find this in an RV, you can only find it in one's mind.  While I cannot point to a particular passage in Travels with Charlie, I was just overcome with the feeling that Steinbeck already had his Idea of America.  He tells his reader that he takes no notes, which, with no disrespect, is a fantastic way for memory to mould reality into what the mind wanted it to be.  While Thoreau took a great deal of notes (though much of Walden was written after leaving the pond, despite Thoreau's claims), his Idea of Walden was so much stronger than his experience of Walden that I do not know that he was actually there.

If I recall correctly from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, at one point Duke and Dr. Gonzo ask a taxi driver to take them to the American Dream.  They are driven to a roller rink in the process of being razed, previously named, "The American Dream."  Obviously there is a lot of imagery at work here, Thompson's lament (or Raoul Duke's, I suppose) is that the counterculture was unable to change America in the way he wanted.  To him, the American Dream was lost.

While I cannot argue that Thompson's Idea of America was my ideal America, he formed an idea of this country through travel and experience.  Gonzo journalism violates the candid observer ideals of standard journalism, but to let something change you, it seems necessary to interact with it.  Swimming is an easy task that most animals seem to manage without years of swimming lessons, but to stop fighting our preconceived ideas about the water, and interact with it is the very essence of swimming.

Like swimming, I think travel is the interaction of a person with a place, and philosophy is the interaction between a person and thought.  The philosopher traveler must interact with people, places, and ideas with the full intention of letting that interaction unhinge their preconceived ideas.  From my reading Thoreau and Steinbeck fail in this regard, and as such, Thoreau never went to Walden Pond and Steinbeck never left his vacation home in New England.

The Fellowship Breaks

I finished The Fellowship of the Ring, and had to take a brief break from LOTR owing to the fact that I did not have The Two Towers.  Now I have it, but feel obligated to finish The Calculus Diaries, which is a pretty quick and fun read when I devote some time to reading it.  I enjoy when people make math more fun, because like spreadsheets math is always fun, so more fun is just a bonus (or a fiery rant about making simple concepts dumb enough for the average person, rather than making the average person educated enough for simple concepts).

I promise, I am working on a longer post for this week, but...  I (may have) just applied for a position at the USGS (when a contract geologist, applying for your next job is never done), which has taken up a lot of my desire to sit at a computer after work.

Alice in Wonderland

I started reading Alice in Wonderland on my phone while waiting for something to happen (I do not recall what).  Progress has been slow, as I have not spent a lot of time sitting in waiting rooms alone lately.  I started reading it because I was curious about e-readers, and it seemed handy to have a book on my phone.  Progress in Walden has also slowed owing to my working lunches of late.  On the bright side, LOTR continues to progress at a reasonable pace for a bedtime book.  I anticipate my reading will increase once Sarah departs on Wednesday, which I suppose might be a bit of sweetness, but I am not looking forward to it in the slightest.

The Fellowship of the Ring and Walden

I finished Lost Discoveries, an interesting read.  I think Teresi lacks a suitable definition of science, but the book is fun in establishing what non-European cultures contributed to our understanding of the world (like the number zero).  After finishing it, I started The Fellowship of the Ring, which I had wanted to read in camp, but I cannot really complain about reading it in New Zealand (I might have to buy one of the travel guidebooks that catalog all of the sites in the movies).

I also started Walden for my lunch time reading.  I have not read Walden, but Jason and Alecia gave me a Walden t-shirt (http://www.outofprintclothing.com/) for Christmas, which prompted Sarah and I to decide to read it.  I do not know if it is going to be exactly my type of book, but it is a classic, and there is no better place to read classics than at work, where TV, runs and blogging are not as easily at hand.

Lost Discoveries

I finished The Hobbit, and with some reservation, I began Lost Discoveries by Dick Teresi.  It seems like the book will be reasonably interesting, but after The Hobbit I wanted to jump into LOTR. (My guide to italics did not cover abbreviated titles!  Thoughts, grammar nerds?)  I did not do this, because I am trying to purge hardcover books first (as they weigh more, and I am trying to cut 30lbs from my luggage).  As such, The Fellowship of the Ring will be a reward for learning about the lost scientific discoveries of man, owing, largely it seems, to a Euro-centric culture (though I am only on page 12).

Reading

I like to read, but I find that it is hard to find the time to do it.  Perhaps it would be more reasonable to say that I find it hard to make the time to read.  In camps, it is particularly difficult for me to accomplish this.  So I generally read at breakfast in camp.  When I work, I read at lunch.  I generally read before going to sleep, but this is also prime journal time.  In camp, I usually feel too tired to accomplish anything significant laying in bed, other than falling asleep.  Thus, breakfast is sacred time, reserved for reading.

For some people, a book is not a "do not disturb" sign, but an invitation for chatter.  To avoid being chatted to while reading at breakfast, I tend to get up earlier than others in camp, to sit in a secluded spot in the mess tent, early in the morning, and read.  I did this at Red Dog too.  Sarah relishes quiet reading time, so she would arrive to the Red Dog mess after me, sit across from me, and read too.  You have to duck out of the mess before the hordes arrive, otherwise you are stuck chattering away, holding a book, and getting steadily grumpier.

One problem with this method is that it makes me tired earlier at night.  Meaning I have less time in the evening to read, journal, blog, email, etc.  This makes my breakfast reading even more important.  You can see where this all goes.  In the real world, I still squeeze in reading, though I can usually find a place to read without being bothered, so I do not generally have to become nocturnal just to read a few pages of The Hobbit.

Which brings me to the next part of this post.  I am reading The Hobbit.  I have read it before.  I have listened to it on audiobook.  I have seen the movie.  I like the LOTR in book form.  I have listened to them on audiobook.  I have read them.  I plan to reread them after rereading The Hobbit.  I have seen the LOTR movies.  I like the LOTR movies.  I like the extended editions the best.  I have watched all three extended editions back to back.  I do not consider myself a Tolkien, or fantasy, nerd or fanatic (I do think of myself as a nerd).

With all that out of the way, it seems like an easy type of post will be updates on the book(s) I am reading.  Sometimes this will make me disappointed with myself for not reading enough, but overall, I hope it to be a fun way to share details of my life with anyone who cares.  Without further delay, here is my first reading post.

I just finished Lawless World, by Philippe Sands.  It was a good book about international law, and I would recommend it, but it would have been better six years ago.  It also was not the most engaging camp book.  To reward myself, I am rereading The Hobbit, a better camp book, perhaps even one of the best camp books (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, including all of the sequels, is also a great go to).  I cannot help myself from thinking about Middle Earth whilst bounding about in the field.  My responsible plan is to push through a bunch of books, hard bound first, to lighten my baggage to New Zealand.  Unfortunately for my plan, the call of the LOTR may be too strong after I finish The Hobbit.