“It will be a long time before we
forget the threat that lies smouldering under an Icelandic glacier. Or
its lesson that even in the 21st century, our lives are still at the sufferance
of nature.”
New York Times Editorial on April 18, 2010
In my own, humble
understanding of the world – the one I try to convey to my child – this
sentence is obnoxious. Unfortunately it makes a lot of sense for it to be
written in a newspaper! It represents the assumption that we are in control of
Nature. While it’s difficult for me to understand how our human relationship
with the rest of the world can be understood in these terms, it’s an all too
common idea. We have mathematics, we have technology, we have models, we have
established laws that Nature – and indeed society – should obey…and therefore
we should be able to tame Nature’s ‘threats’! As recent events have shown,
however, we clearly don’t have sufficient
models and knowledge to tell us how much ash an aeroplane engine can take. It
appears that we merely pretend to tame Nature’s ways without knowing how our
own creations work: the hot debate right now is the flaws of modelling and
over-precautionary decisions they led to (see, for instance, this commentary by Jerry Ravetz).
Not so long ago I read
another story about flying: a journalist travelling to New York from Europe was
describing the reactions of a passenger in business class who had been given
the opportunity to test out Internet use in the air. The passenger was
delighted until, after five minutes of use, the system went down and he lost
his connection. He got angry and insulted – more or less - the whole universe.
Ten minutes beforehand he hadn’t even known that the technology existed; five
minutes after he’d tested it, the
technology was already taken for granted.
I see these two stories
as related.
The volcano in Iceland
has stopped hundreds of thousands of flights. Many people have had to stop,
change their plans, look into other ways of communicating, improvise, and
explore different ways of moving around - or indeed have been forced to not move around. The volcano has been an
opportunity to stop, pause, and wonder about the things we take for granted. It
has caused us to think about technology, models; about the objects that
co-habit our everyday spaces, without being questioned, some silent, some with
their own noise, but all of which we get used to and understand as part of the
world’s order.
That passenger in the
flight to New York does not make time to have time. But the volcano has forced
this time upon us! When else do we take the time to look into our gestures, our
quotidian gestures, and understand that they do not come from instinct, but
that they were taught? To consider that what we think is natural, and take for
granted, probably is not? What does it take for us to pause? And reflect?
What other volcanoes,
earthquakes, floods do we need to start thinking about Time?
I recently commissioned a
short movie intended to reflect on time – the time we don’t use to think about our place, time, gestures. The film was
intended to be subtle, unusual. It seeks to explore, through an appeal to the
senses, the things we do not realise: we often pass through the world as
automata, as if what we do is what has
to be done, as if there were a hidden order that we follow. We too seldom
question how we use time, how we use our gestures.
Time, do you have time?
Youtube version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiSbNV0sGEk


NATUREVol 46429 April 2010 the article "Questions fly over ash-cloud models" for the models allusion I make in this post.