Efficiency, Growth, and the Killing Ground

The other day, I was running errands, as I tend to on the days I have off.  I'd had to take our aging 2002 minivan, as the wife was off at another interview.  As she was driving farther, she'd taken our hyper-efficient eco-pod.  Saves on fuel costs, eh?  It was a bitterly cold day, one of the few we've had in this wildly cycling pseudo-winter.

But when I got to the van, it was nice and warm inside, even before the errand began.  I didn't need to run the engine to warm it up.  I didn't need to burn those dollar bills that we pour into the gaping maws of our gas tanks just to have our engines idling, heating up so I could be comfortable.

That's because I'd parked it in the sun, and the sun had warmed it up nicely.  The energy had been freely offered from the vast fusion reaction that sits bright in the sky, dumping power onto our planet.

As I ran my errands, I made a point of parking the critter...not the most efficient beast, I fear...with its front untinted window pointed towards the sun.  I walked to get groceries, and then dogfood, and then an electronic doodad we needed to replace a failed electronic doodad.   When I returned, the van was warm again, free of charge, not a dime spent on fuel.

I do the same thing in the summer, but in reverse.  I'll go out of my way to park in shade, even if that means a longer walk to the store.  That means less compressor time to cool the car, less money spent, and less waste.

It's a habit, a pattern, a way of approaching things.  I simply would rather use less.  I don't want to have more, or to use more, or to consume more.  That's been a family focus.  In our flush-times, when resources are abundant, we've lived that way.  We save.  We keep below our means.  Where we upgraded, we upgraded to things that use less.  

Our goal is less, and smaller.  Because that's stronger, more resilient, more adaptable, more self-reliant.    That's peculiarly conservative, but it's something else.

It's peculiarly contrary to the "growth" measures of our culture.  The expectation that we'll spend every penny we make, that we'll consume right up to the edge of what we can manage and beyond?  That has been the dream of the oh-so-confident confidence men who sell us debt and credit and the illusion of easy, unearned wealth.

But that place is a dangerous place.  "Living large" in times of plenty means you are overextended when times are lean.  Though I'm not a military man, I find myself thinking of that in martial terms.  You find yourself vulnerable, deep into enemy territory, beyond your supply lines and with no way out.

Two thousand five hundred years ago, military theorist Sun Tzu had a word for that place.  He called it the Killing Ground.

Not my favorite place.

A Drop In the Bucket

Yesterday, me and the missus went to our local Toyota dealership and bought ourselves a nice shiny Prius.

It is, without question, an awesome little car. Well, not really little. It's quite spacious, rides reeeeal smoov, and is filled with all the latest gadgets and gimcrackery. It hums and whirs softly to itself as you drive, the perfect robot butler efficiently accommodating your needs and desires. It both speaks and will obey spoken instructions. It feels like the Car of the Future. Is it fast? No. But it gets you there, and when you come to a stop, those regenerative brakes sound for all the world like a K'tall Citizen-Grade Transmatter Drive on final approach.

I love that sound.

The Prius is also a much less expensive car than it should be. Though it's the iconic hybrid, it's always been a bit of a loss for Toyota. The tech it showcases wasn't cheap to develop, and it isn't cheap to produce. Even at retail price, Toyota was barely recovering it's investment. Now, though, they ain't movin' off the lots. The reasons for this are threefold.

First, there was the "braking" issue with Priuses. It was never a significant issue, but between media hype and an easily panicked public, the Prius name is a bit tarnished. Second, there was the Toyota QC thing. Having overexpanded, Toyota badly mucked up quality control in pursuit of market share, and suddenly folks are more reluctant to buy them. Increased warranty coverage and two years of free maintenance just aren't enough.

Third, Americans are just the teeniest bit short-sighted. I see many, many, many new Jeeps and SUVs on the Beltway this summer, purchased by people who got stuck in the blizzards this winter and who've utterly forgotten that gas prices are still historically low. Fuel at the pump is mysteriously sticking under the trigger point of three bucks a gallon...and so no-one is buying those silly little overengineered hybrids with their high-price tags. They don't make economic sense, and they're piling up on the lots with all sorts of incentives to buy. Where once there were waiting lists and dealer premiums, now you can haggle to your hearts content. As I most certainly did. Man, I love haggling for cars.

For us, the combination of comfort, Meet the Jetsons styling, and efficiency makes it perfect. Do I for a moment imagine it makes a difference in combating America's addiction to oil? Well, not meaningfully. Our family gas costs will decline, sure. We'll consume hundreds of gallons less gas a year. We couldn't buy more efficient personal four wheeled transport. Will that ultimately save us money? Nah. We're unlikely to recoup that hybrid premium unless gas gets waaay more expensive. And that'll never, ever happen, right, kids?

But globally? There simply aren't enough Americans who care. Most folks would prefer to just pay the cash and buy more gas. It's easier. It makes more financial sense. Ecology and the well-being of creation take a back seat to the immediate gratification of horsepower and the illusion of rugged individualism. Folks with my mindset are a drop in the bucket. Or, as occurred to me today, a drop in the Gulf.

Today, I held up a little ruler to my computer screen, and measured from the farthest points of the Gulf oil spill. I got a distance that is comparable to the drive from Germantown, Maryland to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. That's around 259 miles. It'd take us four hours and nine minutes to drive it.

Should I take comfort in knowing that in our shiny shiny Prius, that'd only use about half a tank of gas?

Woo hoo.