But he couldn't have known the consequences of the
development he predicted—a planet whose climate is badly destabilized, whose
inhabitants face mass extinctions in the years ahead.
In August of 1964, just more than 50 years
ago, author Isaac Asimov wrote a piece in The New York Times,
pegged to that summer's World Fair.
In the essay, Asimov imagines what the
World Fair would be like in 2014—his future, our present.
His notions were strange and wonderful (and
conservative, as Matt Novak writes in a great run-down), in the way that dreams
of the future from the point of view of the American mid-century tend to be.
There will be electroluminescent walls for our windowless homes, levitating
cars for our transportation, 3D cube televisions that will permit viewers to
watch dance performances from all angles, and "Algae Bars" that taste
like turkey and steak ("but," he adds, "there will be
considerable psychological resistance to such an innovation").
He got some things wrong and some things
right, as is common for those who engage in the sport of prediction-making.
Keeping score is of little interest to me. What is of interest: what
Asimov understood about the entangled relationships among humans, technological
development, and the planet—and the implications of those ideas for us today,
knowing what we know now.
Asimov begins by suggesting that in the
coming decades, the gulf between humans and "nature" will expand,
driven by technological development. "One thought that occurs to me,"
he writes, "is that men will continue to withdraw from nature in order to
create an environment that will suit them better. "
It is in this context that Asimov sees the
future shining bright: underground, suburban houses, "free from the
vicissitudes of weather, with air cleaned and light controlled, should be
fairly common." Windows, he says, "need be no more than an archaic
touch," with programmed, alterable, "scenery." We will build our
own world, an improvement on the natural one we found ourselves in for so
long. Separation from nature, Asimov implies, will keep humans safe—safe
from the irregularities of the natural world, and the bombs of the human one, a
concern he just barely hints at, but that was deeply felt at the time.
But Asimov knows too that humans cannot
survive on technology alone. Eight years before astronauts' Blue
Marble image of Earth would reshape how humans thought about the planet,
Asimov sees that humans need a healthy Earth, and he worries that an
exploding human population (6.5 billion, he accurately extrapolated) will wear
down our resources, creating massive inequality.
Although technology will still keep up with
population through 2014, it will be only through a supreme effort and with but
partial success. Not all the world's population will enjoy the gadgety world of
the future to the full. A larger portion than today will be deprived and
although they may be better off, materially, than today, they will be further
behind when compared with the advanced portions of the world. They will have
moved backward, relatively.
This troubled him, but the real problems lay
yet further in the future, as "unchecked" population growth pushed
urban sprawl to every corner of the planet, creating a "World-Manhattan"
by 2450. But, he exclaimed, "society will collapse long before
that!" Humans would have to stop reproducing so quickly to avert this
catastrophe, he believed, and he predicted that by 2014 we would have decided
that lowering the birth rate was a policy priority.
Asimov rightly saw the central role of the
planet's environmental health to a society: No matter how technologically
developed humanity becomes, there is no escaping our fundamental reliance on
Earth (at least not until we seriously leave Earth, that is). But in 1964 the
environmental specters that haunt us today—climate change and impending
mass extinctions—were only just beginning to gain notice. Asimov could not have
imagined the particulars of this special blend of planetary destruction we are
now brewing—and he was overly optimistic about our propensity to take action to
protect an imperiled planet.
2013 was not the warmest
year on record but it will come close. Last month, November, was the
warmest since 1880. All of the 10 warmest years on record have occurred since
1998. A video from NASA shows the dramatic shift in recent years. Watch what
happens in the decades after Asimov wrote his essay. (Yellow and red represent
temperatures warmer than the average for the years from 1951 to 1980.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=TO03ColwxHE
Courtesy: http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2013/12/in-1964-isaac-asimov-imagined-the-world-in-2014/282728/
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