Monthly Archives: January 2022

The Malthusian Elephant in the Room

By Michael F. Duggan

The growing concern over global climate change, the shocking loss of habitat and biodiversity in recent years, and other issues of the environment (deforestation, the dying off of the world’s reefs, the overharvesting of fisheries, the plastics crisis, pollution generally, various water issues, refugee issues, etc.) is a good thing. The enabler of these crises, the great overarching crisis of our time and of all times is human overpopulation. All of these other issues would be manageable or nonexistent if the population was one-tenth of what it is today. By some estimates, a global population no larger than .5 billion to one billion people would be sustainable (or about the world population between 1600 and 1820, when there were no modern plastics).1 By other estimates, we surpassed the Earth’s carrying capacity around 1978. 2

Overpopulation is the basis or enabler of the existential threats now facing us. And yet when was the last time you heard a politician mention the issue? How much attention did overpopulation and related issues of economic growth get at the UN Climate Change Conference in Glasgow (COP26)? Are the solutions (such as they are) too difficult, too draconian, too unpopular to even mention? How would the world reduce its current 7.9 billion people to a billion or fewer in a century or less? Could it be done by liberal democratic means? Is the problem of overpopulation too far advanced to be the basis for political discourse? Are we already doomed and nobody in public office has the guts to tell us? How come this is never story on the evening news?

It may or may not be too late to solve the problems that face us. But if there are solutions, we will have to first discuss the problems.

Notes

  1. John Gray, Straw Dogs (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002) 11.
  2. Edward O. Wilson, The Future of Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002) 27.

The Cat’s Meow: Peter Bogdanovich

By Michael F. Duggan

Peter Bogdanovich is gone.

A master technical director who was equally an artist, he was a part of the “New Hollywood” generation of filmmakers that includes Woody Allen, Robert Altman, Francis Ford Coppola, Milos Forman, Terrence Malick, Mike Nichols, Sam Peckinpah, George Roy Hill, Arthur Penn, Sidney Pollock, Stanley Kubrick, George Lucas, and Steven Spielberg. He had a good historical sense and knew how to set the feel for a period with music and material culture as well as anybody (few filmmakers knew the 20th century American Songbook better). He had the courage and insight to make artistic, commercially successful, black and white films in the early 1970s (The Last Picture Show, Paper Moon). He was also a master of the screwball comedy (What’s Up Doc?) and even 1910s-20s slapstick (Nickelodeon).

Paper Moon is wonderful (shot in stark monochrome with red and green filters for definition and in wide angel for universal depth of focus). Seldom has an eight-and-a-half-year-old so powerfully upstaged pretty much everybody else in a film (except for Madeline Kahn), and a lot of that was the result of good directing (and amazing father-daughter screen chemistry). The final scene and ending credits are among my all-time favorites.

If the criteria for being a great director is to have made at least one great film, then he makes the cut (The Last Picture Show).

Some Trash Talk about Plastic

By Michael F. Duggan

Why should petty convicts have all the fun? 

It became a preoccupation with me a few years before COVID hit: whenever walking—from my car to a store, through the neighborhood, on longer hikes—I would (within reason) pick up any plastic I came across.  During my morning and evening commutes, I even began picking up plastic between Washington’s Union Station and my office the better part of a mile away.  It soon became a mostly plastics-free route.

Years ago I read about how scientists using a drag net in the Pacific Ocean had turned up seven pounds of dissolved plastics for every pound of plankton.  Some commonly-used plastics break down to the molecule fairly quickly, but no further for something like 1,100 years.  Whether or not we can see it, it is out there and working its way up the food chain.  Some of it has arrived and who knows what the health effects will be as we increasingly ingest foods with plastics in them (autism and some cancers have been linked to chemicals found in plastics).  After issues of human overpopulation, carbon generation, and loss of biodiversity/habitat, it is likely the most serious prong of the unfolding environmental crises.

If I am on a routine errand, I will pick up any small plastic I see: bottles and other containers, paper cup tops and straws, plastic six pack rings (always cut the rings before recycling), plastic ropes and cords, and all manner of other molded plastics.  Sometimes, when going on longer hikes, I will bring garbage bags with me. A number of years ago, a single 200-yard stretch of the flood plain woods between the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal and the Potomac River yielded two large garbage bags of recent and weathered plastic; I had grown tired of seeing discarded bottles and containers among the profusion of blue cowslip that grows there in the spring and decided to do something about it (an even shorter stretch along the border of a local shopping center yielded a similar haul).  Thus began my obsession. 

Picking up plastic quickly becomes a matter of pride and you soon come regret not being able to stop your car in traffic on seeing a particularly egregious piece of polymer-based refuse along the roadside.  At the height of COVID, I was forced by circumstances to drive to work two or three days per week for ten months. During this period, I stopped a number of times along highways and a parkway to pick up pieces of plastic wreckage after accidents were not sufficiently cleaned up by whatever regulatory authorities are responsible for doing so (these pieces of bumpers and car panels I cut up and put out with my recycling; the guys who picked it up every week probably thought I was running some kind of illegal chop shop in my basement).  Stopping on a highway is dangerous, and I probably should not have done this. I urge the proper departments to keep our highways clean (railroad properties alongside the tracks appear to be among the worst-policed places for discarded plastics, so are shopping centers).

If you choose to pick up plastic, please remember that the point is to never be conspicuous, much less righteous about it.  Act naturally and as if nobody else was around (unless of course someone thanks you or gives an approving gesture).  And make no mistake about it, people will notice you.  Along a roadside—and assuming that you are not wearing a fluorescent orange or yellow Department of Corrections vest—you might get an occasional approving honk or a passing thumbs-up out the window.  If you are on a trail carrying out a garbage bag full of plastic, people you meet will stop and thank you (people are friendlier on trails and boats).  Hopefully your actions will inspire others, but the important part is getting the plastic out of the environment even—and especially—when no one sees you do it.  It is an intrinsically good thing to do and its own reward.  Just remember that even good things have their risks, and you should always where heavy-duty work gloves when picking up plastic (a pickup stick also comes in handy).

To date, no one has ever made a negative comment to me while I was picking up plastic. But if anybody ever asks why I do it, I will likely say “Because others do not” or “If you and I don’t, who will?” Of course, the short answer is “self-respect.” On a darker note, if good people ask this question, then what hope is there for the planet?  

I have no illusions that the few pounds of refuse that I pick up will ever make a dent in the local surfeit of discarded plastics, much less the billions of tons now in the world environment (almost all of the plastic ever made is still in existence).  But I believe in the Butterfly Effect, that hurricanes may begin as ripples in a pond.  If you like this idea, please start picking up plastics at your convenience; the area of your everyday activity is your world, police it.  I also hope that the few people who read this article will share it with others.

Even more disheartening than the small scale of a personal effort is that fact that “recycled” plastics are often sent to other nations who sometimes just dump it. Plastic garbage has turned up in the Marianas Trench, literally the most remote place on the planet.  Because of this, we can only hope that the plastic we pull out of the environment does not just end up in a different place.

The United States should implement a world class national and international effort for addressing plastics in the environment.  If I was suddenly transformed into the chief executive of this country, I would appoint a “Plastics Czar” whose department would be to approach this problem on a scale similar to the industrial mobilization of the Second World War, and to organize—mobilize—an army of citizens into local chapters who would engage in competitive plastic pickups and related activities.