Technology is driving some big changes.
Especially when it comes to how we drive. Or... don't drive.
And change, as friends and regular readers of this blog know, isn't something I'm fond of. Well, more accurately, it depends on what's changing, and the degree to which it's changing, as to whether I'll embrace it or not.
When it comes to the rapid developments in driverless cars, however, the automobile revolution some experts predict is imminent presents a mixed bag for me. I can appreciate some of its major benefits, but I'm not sure those benefits can outweigh its major drawbacks.
This is so big, I'm also not sure it will happen as quickly as some people want it to.
Removing Drivers From Driving Has Its Advantages
Back when I was in my teens and twenties, I used to enjoy driving. As I've gotten older, however, and the driving population has gotten younger and far more reckless, I now consider driving more of a necessary evil than a fun way to spend some time getting from Point A to Point B. To many Americans, driving is more of a waste of time than a pleasurable experience. To the extent that so many of us think we can multi-task behind the wheel, it makes sense to try and take operating the motor vehicle in which you're traveling out of that list of tasks. Few people multi-task well, especially when driving.
The theory behind driverless cars is that once the driver is removed from the driving equation, automobiles will automatically become an incredibly safe mode of transportation. With the key word being "automatically." Technology continues to provide amazing advancements in a robot's ability to sense motion, speed, the proximity of other objects, and infinite adjustments to calculations monitoring all of these variables in real time. If the basic premise of "autopilot" that airplanes have featured for decades can now be extrapolated to the comparatively lowly car, what's stopping us, except more technology?
In their push to accelerate development of the necessary technology, Nevada has already licensed driverless cars, and California did so this week. Google is testing some prototypes, along with other entrepreneurs hoping to get in on the ground floor of what a lot of people hope is the next big thing in transportation logistics.
After all, it won't be just passenger cars that can use driverless technology. Cargo vans and even 18-wheelers could theoretically deploy the same technology and remove the oft-maligned profession of truck driver from the employment pool. Not to mention our roadways.
It has been suggested that individual vehicle ownership itself could become anachronistic, as this new breed of cars becomes less an item for personal consumption, and more a generic mode of conveyance. Parking lots might become extinct, as people simply dial up a transportation pod from a local fleet, use it to get wherever they need to go, and when they disembark from that transportation pod, it becomes available for the next call.
Kind of like a driverless cab.
Perhaps the very components of cars that make them so heavy and dependent on fossil fuels would become obsolete, since each transportation pod, programmed as they'll be on the street grid, won't need crumple zones, bumpers, and reinforced doors. Traffic accidents will evaporate, claim experts, saving thousands of lives a year, and preventing thousands more injuries.
Remember, with driverless cars, computers do all of the driving, making split-second accommodations for varying traffic conditions that could otherwise cause a real person to make mistakes behind the wheel.
Yes, we'd probably still have traffic jams during rush hour, but they likely won't be as severe, since computers would be monitoring traffic flow, and there'd be no accidents to cause the traffic jams to begin with. There would be no fender-benders, since computers would keep safe distances from other vehicles. Nor would there be rubberneckers, gawking at accidents from the opposite side of a freeway, because first, there'd be no wrecks, and second, computers don't gawk at the misfortune of others. Computers don't get drunk, tired, or distracted, either. Neither do they speed.
See how so much of our modern life in post-industrial America would change with driverless cars? Probably no more car ads, since the cars would all perform basically the same. It would be more like a bunch of enclosed golf carts, differentiated only by whatever bling with which an individual owner - if there are people who'd still want to own their own transportation pod - would want to customize it. Hey, back when horse and buggies were a conventional mode of transport, there was little customization, so maybe what was old could become new again.
Many cities around the world today have implemented bike-share programs, where people can rent bicycles in different parts of the city, and ride them to their destination, where another bike rental facility would receive the bicycle, and another person can rent it for wherever they need to go. If parking lots don't become extinct, they'll likely become centralized rental depots for these transportation pods, kinda like today's car rental lots at airports.
Switching Gears
Yes, it all sounds rather weird, and would take some getting used to, but the savings in lives alone represents a hard benefit to downplay, doesn't it?
With all of the efficiencies and safety improvements we'll likely achieve with driverless cars, however, I see some significant drawbacks.
First, what will Government Motors (er, I mean - General Motors), Ford, and the other legacy car manufacturers have to say about this transportation transformation? It's unlikely that driverless cars will be able to retain the aura and intrigue of what's become a conventional aspect of car ownership - each model's driveability. If it doesn't matter how quickly a car can accelerate or stop, or maneuver out of a dangerous situation, who's going to buy one simply for the hood ornament or nameplate?
The loss of the driving aesthetic is potentially the greatest liability for driverless cars, since by their very description, the reason most customers are willing to pay what they are for the cars they buy has to do with how they drive. If it doesn't matter how they drive, or what kind of safety features they have, then car manufacturers will pretty much be trying to push those glorified golf carts. After all, you can bet the government isn't going to be crazy about allowing driverless cars to travel very fast - they'll be more interested in the environmental value of reduced carbon emissions.
And speaking of speed, certain intangible conveniences will be lost with driverless cars. How many people speed to make up for lost time? In a driverless car, you can only go as fast as the government will physically let your car be programmed, and only on prescribed roadways. If you're running late, you likely won't have time to program off-the-cuff shortcuts into your transportation pod's GPS.
Also, remember that the speed at which your car travels is also the speed at which every occupant in the car is traveling. Therefore, just because you won't be driving, your car's computer will still need to compensate for the reaction time necessary in case it encounters, say, a dog running out into the street. If you're working on your laptop computer or drinking a cup of hot coffee, and not paying particular attention to the roadway being navigated by your car, you could suffer injuries inside its passenger compartment if your car is traveling too fast for emergency maneuvers.
What else is there? How about money, since many government entities count on speeding tickets for much-needed revenue. Road construction costs would remain the same, while undoubtedly, new technology would have to be purchased by transportation departments to help manage computerized traffic flow. Even though each transportation pod wouldn't need expensive safety features, somebody's going to have to pay for all of the new driverless technology, and you can bet its developers will be looking for a hefty ROI as well. If the passenger car looses its allure as a commodity, who - or what government agency - will purchase them?
Then there are emergency vehicles, such as fire engines, police cars, and ambulances, who will still need to navigate the same streets as driverless cars, but at greater speeds, and likely with less flexibility in terms of inputting GPS coordinates for the latest crisis environment. What about inclement weather? Will driverless cars need to crawl at a snail's pace just because they detect water, ice, or snow on the road surface, or will they be able to adjust for varying conditions being experienced not only by your vehicle, but other vehicles concurrently traversing different patches of slush, mud, and other hazards just another lane away from you?
Indeed, the scenarios and complications that need to be worked out before driverless cars become commonplace seem far more numerous than the benefits of driverless cars. It seems quite unlikely that I'll be having to face this drastic transportation - and cultural - revolution in my lifetime. Maybe that's why I can look at the benefits of driverless cars with such surprising sanguinity. I can appreciate the same things their ardent advocates appreciate, but I don't need to worry about having to fret through the details of making the switch myself.
Some people sometimes say change can't come soon enough. In this case, change seems to be coming soon enough to suit my tastes!
That's the kind of change I like.
_____
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Christ Got Into the Boat
22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23 After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. 25 During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. 27 But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." 28 "Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." 29 "Come," he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" 32 And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. 33 Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." Matthew 14:22-33
For the past two Sundays, my church's pastor has been preaching from Matthew 14 and the account of Christ and Peter walking on the water.
And while his sermons have explored lessons on how focusing on Christ can eliminate fear, and that we should worship Him for his wondrous acts on our behalf, some other elements of this famous event hit me this morning as I was pondering this same passage during my devotions.
Christ Chooses To Be With Us Despite Ourselves
I don't know about you, but I'm not on the mountaintop with Christ and His Father. I'm in the boat, anxious, along with His other disciples. I'm trying to figure out from which direction the wind is coming, and fretting about being blown off-course.
Maybe you're up on the mountaintop with Christ, in a sublime fellowship with God that sets everything else around you into a confident perspective. Enjoy it, because even Christ's time up there didn't last for long.
Eventually, Christ comes to His disciples in the boat, tossed about by the waves. He walks on water, both literally, and perhaps even figuratively, since He'd just left the immediate presence of His Father, our God. What a dose of reality that must have been for Jesus, having to leave the mountaintop - again, both literally and figuratively - and resume His association with such a rag-tag band of mortal followers.
No titans of industry, no heads of state, no engineering geniuses, no entertaining celebrities. Christ's disciples were ordinary, politically disenfranchised, and of modest economic means. It seems Peter was the only one to provide the entertainment, only whenever he did, it was entirely unintentional.
And probably only really funny to us, reading the Bible's accounts of his bumblings with the benefit of millennia of hindsight.
Speaking of entertainment, isn't it almost laughable for the disciples to initially wonder if the apparition they see on the water is a ghost? Had the wind and choppy water made them that afraid? They'd only been deprived of Christ's physical presence for perhaps a matter of hours, and after some pretty spectacular miracles, too. It was so easy for them to forget that He had just fed thousands of people with five loaves and two fishes. Why wouldn't he be able to walk on water? The psalmists say that seas obey Him, right? Yet short memories of Christ's power is so very typical of not just them, but us, too.
Isn't it?
Having Christ call out to reassure them, and having the mental picture of Peter - of course, it would be Peter - demand that Christ allow him to walk on water, too, can almost be anti-climactic. So often, we mortals assume the climax of this story is Peter's walking on water. But perhaps the climax actually is Christ getting in the boat with His followers.
Did He have to? How much of His earthly ministry depended on the disciples? None of it, right? Christ could have accomplished His work on Earth in any number of ways that wouldn't have required what must have been an arduous, demanding, oftentimes thankless job of teaching - and re-teaching - an ad-hoc group of tax collectors and fishermen. He'd just come from fellowshipping with His own father, and was likely forcefully reminded of what He was missing, working on Earth, instead of being with God in Heaven's glories.
Leaving Glory
Instead, He was climbing - literally and figuratively - back into that wooden boat, with that same group of forgetful, feeble, selfish, confused guys who mostly thought they were working for a new political kingdom for Israel. It's like His incarnation all over again.
Christ got back in the boat with us. But not to be "one of the guys." He didn't get back in the boat to hone His street cred as a savior-type dude. He got back in the boat, because as our Savior, He exudes love, and His disciples could do nothing else but immediately worship Him.
They didn't slap Him on the back and say, "boy, that was a cool trick! How did You do that?"
They were transfixed in awe and wonder, and likely, a good deal of shame at their obvious lack of faith and incredibly short memories.
And they were also undoubtedly greatly relieved and happy that He was back with them. Joyful, even.
Christ's love for them honored God, and modeled for both them then, and us today, one of the many reasons we have to worship Him.
He left God's glory and got in the boat with us.
_____
For the past two Sundays, my church's pastor has been preaching from Matthew 14 and the account of Christ and Peter walking on the water.
And while his sermons have explored lessons on how focusing on Christ can eliminate fear, and that we should worship Him for his wondrous acts on our behalf, some other elements of this famous event hit me this morning as I was pondering this same passage during my devotions.
- Jesus "made" the disciples get into the boat. It's as if He wanted to get rid of them for a while, like parents telling their children to go play outside. Why?
- Why? So He could fellowship with His Father. He went up on the mountain to talk with God, with Whom He shares a uniquely holy relationship as both God's Son, yet a fellow member of the Trinity.
- Christ stayed on the mountain with God for quite a while, likely enjoying their utterly profound interpersonal bonds; both paternal and spiritual.
- Meanwhile, what were His disciples doing? They were out in a boat on the Sea of Galilee, likely chatting amongst themselves about any number of things, from the miracles they had just witnessed, to Christ's shunting them off into the boat so He could be alone, to the wind that was battering their craft with increasing strength.
Christ Chooses To Be With Us Despite Ourselves
I don't know about you, but I'm not on the mountaintop with Christ and His Father. I'm in the boat, anxious, along with His other disciples. I'm trying to figure out from which direction the wind is coming, and fretting about being blown off-course.
Maybe you're up on the mountaintop with Christ, in a sublime fellowship with God that sets everything else around you into a confident perspective. Enjoy it, because even Christ's time up there didn't last for long.
Eventually, Christ comes to His disciples in the boat, tossed about by the waves. He walks on water, both literally, and perhaps even figuratively, since He'd just left the immediate presence of His Father, our God. What a dose of reality that must have been for Jesus, having to leave the mountaintop - again, both literally and figuratively - and resume His association with such a rag-tag band of mortal followers.
No titans of industry, no heads of state, no engineering geniuses, no entertaining celebrities. Christ's disciples were ordinary, politically disenfranchised, and of modest economic means. It seems Peter was the only one to provide the entertainment, only whenever he did, it was entirely unintentional.
And probably only really funny to us, reading the Bible's accounts of his bumblings with the benefit of millennia of hindsight.
Speaking of entertainment, isn't it almost laughable for the disciples to initially wonder if the apparition they see on the water is a ghost? Had the wind and choppy water made them that afraid? They'd only been deprived of Christ's physical presence for perhaps a matter of hours, and after some pretty spectacular miracles, too. It was so easy for them to forget that He had just fed thousands of people with five loaves and two fishes. Why wouldn't he be able to walk on water? The psalmists say that seas obey Him, right? Yet short memories of Christ's power is so very typical of not just them, but us, too.
Isn't it?
Having Christ call out to reassure them, and having the mental picture of Peter - of course, it would be Peter - demand that Christ allow him to walk on water, too, can almost be anti-climactic. So often, we mortals assume the climax of this story is Peter's walking on water. But perhaps the climax actually is Christ getting in the boat with His followers.
Did He have to? How much of His earthly ministry depended on the disciples? None of it, right? Christ could have accomplished His work on Earth in any number of ways that wouldn't have required what must have been an arduous, demanding, oftentimes thankless job of teaching - and re-teaching - an ad-hoc group of tax collectors and fishermen. He'd just come from fellowshipping with His own father, and was likely forcefully reminded of what He was missing, working on Earth, instead of being with God in Heaven's glories.
Leaving Glory
Instead, He was climbing - literally and figuratively - back into that wooden boat, with that same group of forgetful, feeble, selfish, confused guys who mostly thought they were working for a new political kingdom for Israel. It's like His incarnation all over again.
Christ got back in the boat with us. But not to be "one of the guys." He didn't get back in the boat to hone His street cred as a savior-type dude. He got back in the boat, because as our Savior, He exudes love, and His disciples could do nothing else but immediately worship Him.
They didn't slap Him on the back and say, "boy, that was a cool trick! How did You do that?"
They were transfixed in awe and wonder, and likely, a good deal of shame at their obvious lack of faith and incredibly short memories.
And they were also undoubtedly greatly relieved and happy that He was back with them. Joyful, even.
Christ's love for them honored God, and modeled for both them then, and us today, one of the many reasons we have to worship Him.
He left God's glory and got in the boat with us.
_____
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Can Karma Be All About Looks?
I just saw my first Fisker.
A Fisker Karma. Silver. With a black glass roof lined with metallic circuitry.
This Karma Ain't No Chameleon
Fisker Karma is a brand-new hybrid luxury sedan that can get up to 52 mpg, despite its sprawling dimensions. I saw my first Fisker today while gazing out a third-floor window in none other than Arlington, Texas, a city better known for sports and chain restaurants than exotic automobiles.
Who knows - the driver may have been a sports celebrity. He was a fairly short, muscular white guy with a thick head of black hair. I watched as he pulled into a bank's narrow parking lot, and found his Fisker was too wide to fit between a poorly-parked black pickup truck and an idling armored truck. The driver waited for a while, and then got out of his car (that's how I know how tall he was), motioning for the driver of the armored truck to move up just a few feet. But the driver in his burly rig just stared at him.
Was that karma, maybe?
Finally, the Fisker guy got back into his swanky ride, backed away, and drove off. Since I was up high, I could see him soon coming around the back way into the bank's drive-through area.
Maybe he had to make a deposit to cover his first month's payment.
We have a hazy sky here in north Texas this afternoon, but still plenty of sun to keep the solar cells built into the Fisker's roof drinking up the energy rays. That's why, from above, the car's roof looks like a sleek circuit board hovering over the passenger compartment.
Developed for around $1 billion by a team of automotive and ecological engineers headed by Danish designer Henrik Fisker, the Karma represents the leading edge of a brave new world of ultra-luxury low-emissions vehicles. At least, if you view hybrids and all-electric cars apart from the coal and gas-powered factories powering the massive electric plants essential for this new automotive technology. We may all be fooling ourselves that "green" cars are really helping to save our planet, considering that somewhere along the way, fossil fuels still play a huge role in how they operate. But if the ride into our environmental fantasy is going to be in cars like the Fisker, we'll at least be stylin' our way around the proverbial bush.
Immediately, looking out the window from my perch, I could tell this was a different car, even before I could recall it's name. Fisker is brand-new to the automotive world, completely separate from the Big Three and any foreign legacy car makers, except for its GM-produced engines that power each car's generator. Its fluid, sexy styling invokes flashbacks to the Jaguars of old, and comparisons to today's Aston Martin Rapide - at twice the price - or maybe a late-model Maserati Quattroporte. In any event, these are all relatively rare cars, even in the exotic environs of haughty north Dallas, where elite nameplates seem to breed in valet parking lots.
Earlier today, I was chided by a reader of an essay of mine about Mitt Romney and his $250 million fortune. My reader thought I sounded jealous of Romney's wealth, which seems to be the typical reaction these days from conservatives who think pointing out millions of dollars in assets is akin to class warfare.
Chill, people! Who's the one who preaches on this blog that it's the love of money that's the root of evil, not money itself? Like many things, money is relative, and I only wish I had a relative with lots of it! Okay, bad jokes aside, as long as anybody with money - whether it be somebody working a minimum-wage job or somebody with Warren Buffett wealth - tithes the portion of that money God directs them to, how they spend what's left over is more a matter of being responsible to God than being restricted by Him.
And "being responsible" is laden with cultural variables.
In the United States, spending $25,000 for an automobile is considered relatively normal and prudent, and hardly extravagant. But in India or Bangladesh, spending that amount of money would be seen as absurd by most of the populace that barely earns that amount in their entire lifetime. Meanwhile, spending $100,000 on a car like the Fisker is low-balling it, at least in the orbits of New York City's hedge fund titans, or the technology wonks out in Silicon Valley.
What Effect is This Cause Having?
Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for cars, but if somebody can honestly afford to buy something like the Fisker, I say "congratulations, and enjoy it!" Having said that, if I personally had the money to buy one, I'm not sure I would. But not directly because of the cost. Being the cynic I tend to be, I'd be anxious about some crazy uninsured driver hitting it. And speaking of valet parking, I don't even let valet employees park my humble Honda Accord anymore, after one of them scuffed the bumper of my last Honda in the back lot of a Dallas restaurant.
It's also valid to point out that cars like the Fisker have a history of introducing new features and engineering to the broader, mass-consumption market. I'm not crazy about professional car racing, but I can't deny that many of the safety standards and equipment we drivers and passengers enjoy today have come from NASCAR and other real-world racing venues. Who knows yet the amount of technology Fisker and other new hybrid car manufacturers are pioneering that could make ordinary cars more environmentally-friendly in the future? Indeed, a lot is riding on cars like Fisker's in more ways that one. The fight over hybrid technology is so fierce these days, one of Fisker's competitors, Tesla, alleged in a lawsuit that Fisker had stolen some of its secrets.
As new as this technology may be, however, at least one part of the Fisker story seems to smell of the same old bad politics that have corrupted other environmental projects. Fisker won half a billion dollars in guaranteed loans from our federal government, like the now-defunct Solyndra did. Fisker also received $193 million in taxpayer-funded incentives to provide "green" jobs, even though the Obama administration knew Fisker is building these Karmas in Finland, of all places. A mothballed GM plant Fisker purchased at a government fire sale will ostensibly be used for future cars in Fisker's pipeline.
That is, if Fisker can hold out that long. Within weeks of its debut last fall, Fisker had to issue a recall, and has issued two more since then. At least one fire has been definitively linked with their vehicles, and another fire may have been. Such numbers wouldn't mean much for a mass-market vehicle, but Fisker has only sold a few thousand of their Karmas so far.
Some people with $100,000 to spend on a vehicle might let the car's incredible looks overrule a more pedestrian logic, and indulge themselves with one. However, if you've earned that money yourself, you're probably also smart enough to consider your other, more time-tested options in this price class.
I spotted that gorgeous Fisker right away out of a parking lot full of cars, and a four-lane avenue teeming with traffic.
Maybe that kind of attention is still worth it to the guy who couldn't even get an armored truck to move a few feet out of his way.
_____
A Fisker Karma. Silver. With a black glass roof lined with metallic circuitry.
This Karma Ain't No Chameleon
Fisker Karma is a brand-new hybrid luxury sedan that can get up to 52 mpg, despite its sprawling dimensions. I saw my first Fisker today while gazing out a third-floor window in none other than Arlington, Texas, a city better known for sports and chain restaurants than exotic automobiles.
Who knows - the driver may have been a sports celebrity. He was a fairly short, muscular white guy with a thick head of black hair. I watched as he pulled into a bank's narrow parking lot, and found his Fisker was too wide to fit between a poorly-parked black pickup truck and an idling armored truck. The driver waited for a while, and then got out of his car (that's how I know how tall he was), motioning for the driver of the armored truck to move up just a few feet. But the driver in his burly rig just stared at him.
Was that karma, maybe?
Finally, the Fisker guy got back into his swanky ride, backed away, and drove off. Since I was up high, I could see him soon coming around the back way into the bank's drive-through area.
Maybe he had to make a deposit to cover his first month's payment.
We have a hazy sky here in north Texas this afternoon, but still plenty of sun to keep the solar cells built into the Fisker's roof drinking up the energy rays. That's why, from above, the car's roof looks like a sleek circuit board hovering over the passenger compartment.
Developed for around $1 billion by a team of automotive and ecological engineers headed by Danish designer Henrik Fisker, the Karma represents the leading edge of a brave new world of ultra-luxury low-emissions vehicles. At least, if you view hybrids and all-electric cars apart from the coal and gas-powered factories powering the massive electric plants essential for this new automotive technology. We may all be fooling ourselves that "green" cars are really helping to save our planet, considering that somewhere along the way, fossil fuels still play a huge role in how they operate. But if the ride into our environmental fantasy is going to be in cars like the Fisker, we'll at least be stylin' our way around the proverbial bush.
Immediately, looking out the window from my perch, I could tell this was a different car, even before I could recall it's name. Fisker is brand-new to the automotive world, completely separate from the Big Three and any foreign legacy car makers, except for its GM-produced engines that power each car's generator. Its fluid, sexy styling invokes flashbacks to the Jaguars of old, and comparisons to today's Aston Martin Rapide - at twice the price - or maybe a late-model Maserati Quattroporte. In any event, these are all relatively rare cars, even in the exotic environs of haughty north Dallas, where elite nameplates seem to breed in valet parking lots.
Earlier today, I was chided by a reader of an essay of mine about Mitt Romney and his $250 million fortune. My reader thought I sounded jealous of Romney's wealth, which seems to be the typical reaction these days from conservatives who think pointing out millions of dollars in assets is akin to class warfare.
Chill, people! Who's the one who preaches on this blog that it's the love of money that's the root of evil, not money itself? Like many things, money is relative, and I only wish I had a relative with lots of it! Okay, bad jokes aside, as long as anybody with money - whether it be somebody working a minimum-wage job or somebody with Warren Buffett wealth - tithes the portion of that money God directs them to, how they spend what's left over is more a matter of being responsible to God than being restricted by Him.
And "being responsible" is laden with cultural variables.
In the United States, spending $25,000 for an automobile is considered relatively normal and prudent, and hardly extravagant. But in India or Bangladesh, spending that amount of money would be seen as absurd by most of the populace that barely earns that amount in their entire lifetime. Meanwhile, spending $100,000 on a car like the Fisker is low-balling it, at least in the orbits of New York City's hedge fund titans, or the technology wonks out in Silicon Valley.
What Effect is This Cause Having?
Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for cars, but if somebody can honestly afford to buy something like the Fisker, I say "congratulations, and enjoy it!" Having said that, if I personally had the money to buy one, I'm not sure I would. But not directly because of the cost. Being the cynic I tend to be, I'd be anxious about some crazy uninsured driver hitting it. And speaking of valet parking, I don't even let valet employees park my humble Honda Accord anymore, after one of them scuffed the bumper of my last Honda in the back lot of a Dallas restaurant.
It's also valid to point out that cars like the Fisker have a history of introducing new features and engineering to the broader, mass-consumption market. I'm not crazy about professional car racing, but I can't deny that many of the safety standards and equipment we drivers and passengers enjoy today have come from NASCAR and other real-world racing venues. Who knows yet the amount of technology Fisker and other new hybrid car manufacturers are pioneering that could make ordinary cars more environmentally-friendly in the future? Indeed, a lot is riding on cars like Fisker's in more ways that one. The fight over hybrid technology is so fierce these days, one of Fisker's competitors, Tesla, alleged in a lawsuit that Fisker had stolen some of its secrets.
As new as this technology may be, however, at least one part of the Fisker story seems to smell of the same old bad politics that have corrupted other environmental projects. Fisker won half a billion dollars in guaranteed loans from our federal government, like the now-defunct Solyndra did. Fisker also received $193 million in taxpayer-funded incentives to provide "green" jobs, even though the Obama administration knew Fisker is building these Karmas in Finland, of all places. A mothballed GM plant Fisker purchased at a government fire sale will ostensibly be used for future cars in Fisker's pipeline.
That is, if Fisker can hold out that long. Within weeks of its debut last fall, Fisker had to issue a recall, and has issued two more since then. At least one fire has been definitively linked with their vehicles, and another fire may have been. Such numbers wouldn't mean much for a mass-market vehicle, but Fisker has only sold a few thousand of their Karmas so far.
Some people with $100,000 to spend on a vehicle might let the car's incredible looks overrule a more pedestrian logic, and indulge themselves with one. However, if you've earned that money yourself, you're probably also smart enough to consider your other, more time-tested options in this price class.
I spotted that gorgeous Fisker right away out of a parking lot full of cars, and a four-lane avenue teeming with traffic.
Maybe that kind of attention is still worth it to the guy who couldn't even get an armored truck to move a few feet out of his way.
_____
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
What Might They Say About You?
Some friends of mine who live in Europe recently told me a story.
They once shared a meal with some friends of theirs: the husband a Frenchman, the wife a product of the former East Germany when it was under communist rule.
The wife who'd grown up in East Germany recounted how several years ago, her mother, who still lives in what's now a united Germany, received something completely unfamiliar to us Westerners. She was given the file kept on her by the Staatssicherheit, or Stasi, which was East Germany's secret police. While she was growing up, the wife knew her family was under suspicion because they would receive packages of things as harmless as denim jeans from family members living in the democratic, capitalistic west. Such deliveries were major red flags for government agents trying to repress its citizenry.
Who knew blue jeans were subversive?
To try and avoid any further trouble with the Stasi, the wife's family stopped going to church, a custom widely known to invite friction with East Germany's government-sanctioned thugs. After all, they couldn't really communicate to their free relatives how even something as ubiquitous as jeans could jeopardize their safety under communist rule. At least, they rationalized, they could try to reduce their visibility by dropping church attendance from their list of activities which would be considered objectionable.
It doesn't seem the family was ever really harassed by the Stasi, but in the file this family's matriarch received after the Berlin Wall's fall, it wasn't for lack of evidence. Turns out, close acquaintances, co-workers, and neighbors had all turned in the family to the Stasi for various things. As you can imagine, the family was shocked more by the familiar names they saw in the file, not particularly what activities and habits those back-stabbers shared with the Stasi.
Apparently, too, this family had never thought to report these same friends to the secret police.
It has been estimated that approximately one in 63 East Germans collaborated with the Stasi, which is one of history's most impressive records of manipulation by a nation's secret police. During its reign, the Staatssicherheit employed over a quarter-million people in various capacities; one soccer club alone had 18 agents.
In 1992, after German unification, the security organization's files were opened to the public for the first time. As government researchers, ordinary citizens, and journalists went on the hunt for Stasi criminals, they soon discovered that much of the most incriminating evidence necessary to produce convictions in a court of law had been shredded or otherwise destroyed. Indeed, the process for literally piecing together these paper trails - estimated at 45 million documents - has been arduous and time-consuming. So far, only two former Stasi officers have been convicted of any crime from their years of torturing suspects, covering up state accidents, executing dissidents, and whatever else secret police officers do in the line of nefarious duty.
We take for granted the fact that here in the United States, stuff like this is something we hardly ever need to think about. But do you know at least 63 people? How many Facebook friends do you have? How many people work for your employer? How many people live in your apartment building, or in your suburban neighborhood?
In East Germany, remember, at least one in 63 people would be spying on you!
Here's another question: If our CIA was recruiting informants to turn in evangelical Christians, believers in Christ whose primary allegiance was to God, not our president or any particular political party, who might turn you in?
You may be familiar with the time-worn question, "if you were on trial for your faith, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" In a way, though, that's a fairly benign question, isn't it? In a way, the personal nature of your faith is removed from how your faith may or may not impact the lives of people around you.
But what about those people around you; the people you know, with whom you work and associate? The people who live next-door to you? What might they say about you and how you live your faith?
What might a secret police organization's dossier on you look like?
_____
They once shared a meal with some friends of theirs: the husband a Frenchman, the wife a product of the former East Germany when it was under communist rule.
The wife who'd grown up in East Germany recounted how several years ago, her mother, who still lives in what's now a united Germany, received something completely unfamiliar to us Westerners. She was given the file kept on her by the Staatssicherheit, or Stasi, which was East Germany's secret police. While she was growing up, the wife knew her family was under suspicion because they would receive packages of things as harmless as denim jeans from family members living in the democratic, capitalistic west. Such deliveries were major red flags for government agents trying to repress its citizenry.
Who knew blue jeans were subversive?
To try and avoid any further trouble with the Stasi, the wife's family stopped going to church, a custom widely known to invite friction with East Germany's government-sanctioned thugs. After all, they couldn't really communicate to their free relatives how even something as ubiquitous as jeans could jeopardize their safety under communist rule. At least, they rationalized, they could try to reduce their visibility by dropping church attendance from their list of activities which would be considered objectionable.
It doesn't seem the family was ever really harassed by the Stasi, but in the file this family's matriarch received after the Berlin Wall's fall, it wasn't for lack of evidence. Turns out, close acquaintances, co-workers, and neighbors had all turned in the family to the Stasi for various things. As you can imagine, the family was shocked more by the familiar names they saw in the file, not particularly what activities and habits those back-stabbers shared with the Stasi.
Apparently, too, this family had never thought to report these same friends to the secret police.
It has been estimated that approximately one in 63 East Germans collaborated with the Stasi, which is one of history's most impressive records of manipulation by a nation's secret police. During its reign, the Staatssicherheit employed over a quarter-million people in various capacities; one soccer club alone had 18 agents.
In 1992, after German unification, the security organization's files were opened to the public for the first time. As government researchers, ordinary citizens, and journalists went on the hunt for Stasi criminals, they soon discovered that much of the most incriminating evidence necessary to produce convictions in a court of law had been shredded or otherwise destroyed. Indeed, the process for literally piecing together these paper trails - estimated at 45 million documents - has been arduous and time-consuming. So far, only two former Stasi officers have been convicted of any crime from their years of torturing suspects, covering up state accidents, executing dissidents, and whatever else secret police officers do in the line of nefarious duty.
We take for granted the fact that here in the United States, stuff like this is something we hardly ever need to think about. But do you know at least 63 people? How many Facebook friends do you have? How many people work for your employer? How many people live in your apartment building, or in your suburban neighborhood?
In East Germany, remember, at least one in 63 people would be spying on you!
Here's another question: If our CIA was recruiting informants to turn in evangelical Christians, believers in Christ whose primary allegiance was to God, not our president or any particular political party, who might turn you in?
You may be familiar with the time-worn question, "if you were on trial for your faith, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" In a way, though, that's a fairly benign question, isn't it? In a way, the personal nature of your faith is removed from how your faith may or may not impact the lives of people around you.
But what about those people around you; the people you know, with whom you work and associate? The people who live next-door to you? What might they say about you and how you live your faith?
What might a secret police organization's dossier on you look like?
_____
Friday, September 7, 2012
Long Life's Dear Cost
Living a long life used to be a good thing.
And if you're healthy, right up to the end, it may still be.
But for an increasing number of Americans, old age is not the good thing we've been led to believe. The Lord has blessed our doctors, scientists, and other medical experts with incredible insight into how the bodies He created function, and that insight has led to some amazing advancements in healthcare, which have helped to lengthen lifespans.
Long life, remember, used to be considered a good thing worth striving towards.
In Biblical times, long life wasn't 80 years, or 100, but several hundred years. We still don't know how the same human bones and flesh they had back then could last so much longer than ours does today. Or, for that matter, what the quality of life was for those folks when they hit the 300-year mark. Survival then was much tougher than it is today, which makes one wonder whether back-breaking labor might actually better for us than sitting at computer screens all day long.
We've just finished the last of our national political conventions, and today, the race for President of the United States goes into overdrive. One of the key topics up for debate centers on how our country plans to care for its rapidly-aging population, including ideas for revising Medicare and, even more importantly, Medicaid. Medicaid, after all, is what many middle-class families currently rely upon to fund the oftentimes exorbitant costs of long-term care for their loved ones.
Whether you're for vouchers, reducing the role of the federal government in healthcare generally and elder care specifically, or increasing Washington's role in determining and allocating funds for such care, we need to remember that funding elder care is not an abstract problem. It's happening now. Baby boomers pose a significant threat to the financial integrity of American families, charities, and the government, from the local to the state and federal levels. And care isn't getting any cheaper.
Who Can Save Enough to Pay for Long Term Care?
It may be easy for all of the young fresh faces and voices of America's contemporary media, including blogs and political action groups, to view elder care as a cost-savings opportunity. Letting policy shapers speak from lack of experience has become a dangerous trend in our country. Speaking as a member of a family that has already begun the slow, expensive process of long-term elder care, however, I see this issue differently. The loved ones in my family who need specialized attention have worked their entire lives in honorable yet modestly-paying jobs. The kind of jobs most people have that, although ordinary, helped them afford decent homes and a few luxuries. They've retired mortgage-free and credit-card-debt-free. With savings. So why should they worry about paying for their own care, right?
Sure, some right-wing Republicans might grouse that my family's loved ones should have striven to become independently wealthy, so they would know they could afford any healthcare contingency. Meanwhile, any serious student of economics knows that not everybody can be a One Percenter. Or even a Twenty Percenter. My family's loved ones played the career and personal finance games as well as many other Americans have been able to. Along the way, however, the retirement goalposts got moved. And even if they'd earned twice what they did during their careers, it wouldn't be enough to pay for modern long-term care.
Hopefully, most rational conservatives can agree with many rational liberals, and recognize that personally funding retirement care these days requires much more than conventional savings and healthcare insurance, and experts differ as to whether long-term-care insurance is worth its steep cost. Double the quandary when both spouses live into ripe old age. Stories about running out of money, particularly because we're living longer than past generations, are incredibly frequent. Even most long-term-care insurance policies cover only three years of care, while patients may live much longer. Only an ignorant person would claim that any American worth their citizenship should be able to save up the money they'll need to pay for their own elder care, or hope three year's worth of expensive insurance provides enough protection.
Indeed, if there's one great equalizer in American society, it's elder care, because even if you've earned hundreds of thousands of dollars in retirement assets, you can burn through it quickly if you're not healthy. And it strikes me as being a bit hypocritical of politicians - of all people - to be dictating how and what types of care should or shouldn't be funded anyway. After all, many of them benefit from a federal healthcare program the rest of us Americans can only dream about.
Being Responsible for What God Expects of Us
People of faith, particularly those on the far-right side of the aisle who normally eschew anything that drains taxpayer dollars, need to remember that the Bible is explicit and repetitive on our mandate to care for the widows and needy among us.
If that means cutting back in other programs so that we can honor our elders by paying for the care they require, shouldn't we?
Of course, if that means cutting waste in the elder care programs we already have, shouldn't we?
Should it mean that family members currently working and trying to pay for their own retirement be forced to quit their jobs to perform the care for which our politicians don't want to pay?
Should it mean our pharmaceutical industry gets to set their prices for medications required to sustain life? Or that nursing care providers and healthcare plan administrators get to inflate the costs of elder care by setting their own payment guidelines?
Where should the line be drawn between profit motive and pure greed when it comes to elder care?
Where should the line be drawn between our personal preference for low taxes and our ability to help out our fellow families grappling with elder care costs? Granted, having the federal government administer elder care may not be the best approach. The rules government bureaucrats and politicians concoct - particularly at the federal level - have a bad history of being woefully counterproductive. Right now, Medicaid is run by individual states, and paid for by each state with matching funds from the federal government. Technically, states can opt out of Medicaid, since their participation is voluntary. So far, however, even though some states call their Medicaid program by a different name, all fifty states participate.
President Obama would like to expand Medicaid by broadening patient eligibility standards. He says Obamacare will provide states more federal funds, but states will have to contribute more themselves, too, causing some to balk. After all, whether we're talking state or federal funds, it's all still taxpayer dollars, so Obamacare doesn't really appear to be solving anything in terms of Medicaid. Subtly expanding federal control over what has traditionally been a state-run program - which is what increasing federal participation would effectively do - doesn't sit well with conservatives, either.
Don't forget that Medicaid doesn't just pay for elder care. It, along with Medicare, pays for a variety of healthcare costs for a variety of segments of our population. When it comes to paying for elder care, however, it's usually Medicaid that taxpayers rely upon to cover the gaping cost gaps. Unless somebody can come up with a better idea.
You've Aged Just Reading This
Fortunately, the recent trend towards home health care is helping to reduce some costs, and fast-paced advancements in the treatment of cancers and dementia may help provide cures to help senior citizens lead less dependent retirements. But it's all still expensive.
A lot may hinge on what happens to Obamacare after this November's election. Right now, depending on who you talk to, Obamacare is either lowering costs, or simply reducing the number of allowable medical procedures. It's very difficult to parse the hype and rhetoric from reality. Considering the resources required to provide the care you would expect for yourself or your parents, however, can we afford to spurn greater federal involvement in elder care? If states opt out and lose federal funds, can our churches and community charities keep up with the growing demand? Would you want your family to be one of the ones to find out?
Not that the government is the only hope for elder care. But how realistic are we being by playing political gamesmanship with the needs of our aging population? After all, even if we find ways to better manage elder care, and I hope we do, the demand for it won't go away. None of us are getting any younger.
And we can't all hope to be the exception, and either earn enough or stay healthy enough to avoid the elder care cost crisis.
One of the blessings God offers His people in the Bible is long life.
How much of a blessing might long life really be?
_____
And if you're healthy, right up to the end, it may still be.
But for an increasing number of Americans, old age is not the good thing we've been led to believe. The Lord has blessed our doctors, scientists, and other medical experts with incredible insight into how the bodies He created function, and that insight has led to some amazing advancements in healthcare, which have helped to lengthen lifespans.
Long life, remember, used to be considered a good thing worth striving towards.
In Biblical times, long life wasn't 80 years, or 100, but several hundred years. We still don't know how the same human bones and flesh they had back then could last so much longer than ours does today. Or, for that matter, what the quality of life was for those folks when they hit the 300-year mark. Survival then was much tougher than it is today, which makes one wonder whether back-breaking labor might actually better for us than sitting at computer screens all day long.
We've just finished the last of our national political conventions, and today, the race for President of the United States goes into overdrive. One of the key topics up for debate centers on how our country plans to care for its rapidly-aging population, including ideas for revising Medicare and, even more importantly, Medicaid. Medicaid, after all, is what many middle-class families currently rely upon to fund the oftentimes exorbitant costs of long-term care for their loved ones.
Whether you're for vouchers, reducing the role of the federal government in healthcare generally and elder care specifically, or increasing Washington's role in determining and allocating funds for such care, we need to remember that funding elder care is not an abstract problem. It's happening now. Baby boomers pose a significant threat to the financial integrity of American families, charities, and the government, from the local to the state and federal levels. And care isn't getting any cheaper.
Who Can Save Enough to Pay for Long Term Care?
It may be easy for all of the young fresh faces and voices of America's contemporary media, including blogs and political action groups, to view elder care as a cost-savings opportunity. Letting policy shapers speak from lack of experience has become a dangerous trend in our country. Speaking as a member of a family that has already begun the slow, expensive process of long-term elder care, however, I see this issue differently. The loved ones in my family who need specialized attention have worked their entire lives in honorable yet modestly-paying jobs. The kind of jobs most people have that, although ordinary, helped them afford decent homes and a few luxuries. They've retired mortgage-free and credit-card-debt-free. With savings. So why should they worry about paying for their own care, right?
Sure, some right-wing Republicans might grouse that my family's loved ones should have striven to become independently wealthy, so they would know they could afford any healthcare contingency. Meanwhile, any serious student of economics knows that not everybody can be a One Percenter. Or even a Twenty Percenter. My family's loved ones played the career and personal finance games as well as many other Americans have been able to. Along the way, however, the retirement goalposts got moved. And even if they'd earned twice what they did during their careers, it wouldn't be enough to pay for modern long-term care.
Hopefully, most rational conservatives can agree with many rational liberals, and recognize that personally funding retirement care these days requires much more than conventional savings and healthcare insurance, and experts differ as to whether long-term-care insurance is worth its steep cost. Double the quandary when both spouses live into ripe old age. Stories about running out of money, particularly because we're living longer than past generations, are incredibly frequent. Even most long-term-care insurance policies cover only three years of care, while patients may live much longer. Only an ignorant person would claim that any American worth their citizenship should be able to save up the money they'll need to pay for their own elder care, or hope three year's worth of expensive insurance provides enough protection.
Indeed, if there's one great equalizer in American society, it's elder care, because even if you've earned hundreds of thousands of dollars in retirement assets, you can burn through it quickly if you're not healthy. And it strikes me as being a bit hypocritical of politicians - of all people - to be dictating how and what types of care should or shouldn't be funded anyway. After all, many of them benefit from a federal healthcare program the rest of us Americans can only dream about.
Being Responsible for What God Expects of Us
People of faith, particularly those on the far-right side of the aisle who normally eschew anything that drains taxpayer dollars, need to remember that the Bible is explicit and repetitive on our mandate to care for the widows and needy among us.
If that means cutting back in other programs so that we can honor our elders by paying for the care they require, shouldn't we?
Of course, if that means cutting waste in the elder care programs we already have, shouldn't we?
Should it mean that family members currently working and trying to pay for their own retirement be forced to quit their jobs to perform the care for which our politicians don't want to pay?
Should it mean our pharmaceutical industry gets to set their prices for medications required to sustain life? Or that nursing care providers and healthcare plan administrators get to inflate the costs of elder care by setting their own payment guidelines?
Where should the line be drawn between profit motive and pure greed when it comes to elder care?
Where should the line be drawn between our personal preference for low taxes and our ability to help out our fellow families grappling with elder care costs? Granted, having the federal government administer elder care may not be the best approach. The rules government bureaucrats and politicians concoct - particularly at the federal level - have a bad history of being woefully counterproductive. Right now, Medicaid is run by individual states, and paid for by each state with matching funds from the federal government. Technically, states can opt out of Medicaid, since their participation is voluntary. So far, however, even though some states call their Medicaid program by a different name, all fifty states participate.
President Obama would like to expand Medicaid by broadening patient eligibility standards. He says Obamacare will provide states more federal funds, but states will have to contribute more themselves, too, causing some to balk. After all, whether we're talking state or federal funds, it's all still taxpayer dollars, so Obamacare doesn't really appear to be solving anything in terms of Medicaid. Subtly expanding federal control over what has traditionally been a state-run program - which is what increasing federal participation would effectively do - doesn't sit well with conservatives, either.
Don't forget that Medicaid doesn't just pay for elder care. It, along with Medicare, pays for a variety of healthcare costs for a variety of segments of our population. When it comes to paying for elder care, however, it's usually Medicaid that taxpayers rely upon to cover the gaping cost gaps. Unless somebody can come up with a better idea.
You've Aged Just Reading This
Fortunately, the recent trend towards home health care is helping to reduce some costs, and fast-paced advancements in the treatment of cancers and dementia may help provide cures to help senior citizens lead less dependent retirements. But it's all still expensive.
A lot may hinge on what happens to Obamacare after this November's election. Right now, depending on who you talk to, Obamacare is either lowering costs, or simply reducing the number of allowable medical procedures. It's very difficult to parse the hype and rhetoric from reality. Considering the resources required to provide the care you would expect for yourself or your parents, however, can we afford to spurn greater federal involvement in elder care? If states opt out and lose federal funds, can our churches and community charities keep up with the growing demand? Would you want your family to be one of the ones to find out?
Not that the government is the only hope for elder care. But how realistic are we being by playing political gamesmanship with the needs of our aging population? After all, even if we find ways to better manage elder care, and I hope we do, the demand for it won't go away. None of us are getting any younger.
And we can't all hope to be the exception, and either earn enough or stay healthy enough to avoid the elder care cost crisis.
One of the blessings God offers His people in the Bible is long life.
How much of a blessing might long life really be?
_____
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