Welmer

As a child of the 1970s, for my entire life I have lived and breathed the doom-and-gloom philosophy that supplanted the old post-war faith in human progress. A misanthropic world-view, dominant following the cultural revolution of the 1960s and 70s, hammered the younger generation with one apocalyptic prophecy after another. Movies such as Soylent Green, a Clockwork Orange, Bladerunner and Terminator all gave starkly dystopic and pessimistic interpretations of the trends of human society. Finally, the disaster flicks of the late 1990s and early 2000s capped off the generational obsession with end times with maudlin depictions of dread and impending doom. Looking back, future historians might reference these and other films to reconstruct the dogma underlying contemporary society’s cultural eschatology. Certainly, popular harbingers of the apocalypse such as population growth, nuclear technology, industry and genetic research, are spread liberally throughout the art of the past generation, which could make for an interesting reconstruction of the Four Horsemen.

It is tempting to attribute doom-hysteria to a subliminal millenialism that reached its peak right around the turn of the century, and indeed it may be that an atavistic numerology was the invisible force, running like a deep current under society, that darkened the collective mood. Mass psychology, after all, is poorly understood and works in ways that individuals do not well understand. One of the better ways to tap into it (or so I’ve heard) is through the ingestion of a large dose of hallucinogens, and perhaps there we have a hint of what was really going on in the last few decades of the 20th century, but that’s speculation and probably ought to be saved for a future discussion.

Recently, I have found a couple of old die-hard optimists, who in the strange positive-negativism of a culture that sancitifies doom-saying come off as a couple of contrarian curmodgeons. Needless to say, curmudgeonry can be interesting, especially when it concerns matters of global survivability and sustainability. The two men, one a computer scientist and the other a nuclear physicist, are both extraordinarily intelligent and possessed of esoteric scientific knowledge, yet they present their case with lucid, comprehensible prose and a delightfully sardonic wit (which I find particularly enjoyable, although that may be an idiosyncracy).

John McCarthy, the computer scientist who is currently Professor Emeritus at Stanford, has created a comprehensive, informative website making the case for “Progress and its Sustainability.” The site, although graphically sparse (why do brilliant scientists often have such lousy-looking websites?), has a wealth of facts that rarely see the light of day in the popular press, and is peppered with amusing quotes such as: “Because of journalism, humanity is readily annoyed, but we are capable of surviving any of the catastrophes to life that have occurred in past, and science is very likely to give us plenty of warning for most of them.”

Dr. McCarthy takes environmentalist prophets of doom such as Paul Ehrlich to task, putting together an impressive list of ridiculous quotes (including some that are downright psychotic) predicting imminent catastrophe or otherwise bashing the human species. I spent a good deal of time going through every page, finding something new and informative on each one.

The second curmudgeon, Dr. Bernard Cohen, another Professor Emeritus (of Physics at the University of Pittsburg), has published “The Nuclear Energy Option“, an online book about nuclear power that makes the case that nuclear energy is essentially inexhaustible. A staunch proponent of nuclear energy, Dr. Cohen sets about smashing myths about the dangers of radiation, putting it in perspective in comparison to coal and other energy sources. He has more of a flair for self-promotion than Dr. McCarthy, having challenged Ralph Nader to a plutonium eating contest — in the service of human progress, of course. The book examines the risks of nuclear power and radiation in exhaustive detail, and attacks anti-nuclear activists with a mountain of facts and calculations. I found the section on reactor meltdown risks – which he readily admits are quite real – and the safeguards to prevent them to be the most fascinating and informative section, although the discussion of nuclear waste storage came in a close second.

The fight these two old scientists have put up to make the case for optimism about the future gives me hope that the collective mood will lighten and my own children can grow up with a sunny eagerness for days to come, unencumbered by the shadow of doom that darkened depictions of the future during my childhood. Rather than a world filled with homicidal androids, mass starvation or nuclear holocaust, they may imagine a city on the moon and trips to see the rings of Saturn. Maybe things have already begun to change, and the dreaded horsemen of the apocalypse are riding off into the sunset. One can hope.