As an atheist, one might suspect I have no guiding philosophy and am therefore a soul doomed to eternal angst while shuffling around this mortal coil, and will be after shuffling off it. But I do have a philosophy, or a series of them, that help keep me sane in this insane thing we call living for a short moment on earth. One of those philosophies is that we, as humans, have invented societal systems of support woven so deeply into our everyday experience that we no longer see them for what they are. These assumed infrastructures are ever-present, especially to those of living the rich lifestyles of The West. I guess you could define this philosophy simply as ‘appreciation.’
But it’s hard to appreciate things that are so common and taken for granted that we no longer notice them. I like to to tease my fellow rich-country citizens about bottled water. To someone who insists on exclusively drinking ‘Fiji’ or the like:
“What if we had some sort of network, like the internet, that could deliver fresh water directly to our homes at a high volume? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Think about if everyone in the world had such a network! Not that you would, but, imagine if the volume of fresh water delivered was so much that you could actually bathe in it? Use it to flush our toilets? Of course this is a fantasy. No one would flush the single most precious resource on earth down the toilet.”
The only way to appreciate the rain is to put down your umbrella. Having traveled across much of the developing world I’ve gotten a sense of what living without the internet of water is like. I’ve gotten rope burns pulling fresh water from deep wells in Mongolia, and carried five gallons drums on my head in Kenya. Much of the world lives around the acquisition of fresh water. Our largest cities are often built where giant freshwater rivers meet the sea, marrying two ideal lifelines: potable water and access to seaborne trade. But river courses change and glaciers that feed tributaries melt. Droughts can last for years and suck up aquifers.
When we talk about ‘rich countries’ we’re talking about access to resources. We’re taught for some reason to prize gold and diamonds as resources. But the only resource that actually matters, a fact known to anyone who’s ever been thirsty in a very hot, dry climate, is water. It’s so basic it sounds cliché.
Technology only helps so much with acquiring this resource. Much of it comes down to politics. When China invaded Tibet it wasn’t only because they thought Tibet should be part of China, it was because Tibet sits atop one of the greatest watersheds in the world. Control of the Tibetan Plateau assures the safe supply of water to a vast country. But the invasion was cloaked in politico/cultural meaning to obscure this most basic, logical purpose.
The water system that supplies New York City follows the blueprint of the Tibetan invasion in miniature. The city of New York forcefully acquired watershed lands around the state and even created a Police department to guard it. This, despite the fact that one of the largest rivers in America flows directly past the metropolis. The reason New York kicked out, bought out, and drowned dozens of upstate towns was that the Hudson had become too polluted to drink from. Having destroyed one source of water, the city spent billions to create another*.
This little rambling essay started with me being an atheist and somehow became rant against the imperial acquisition of watersheds. So maybe I do have a religion. The next time you turn on your tap and fill a glass full of fresh clean drinking water, make some sort of gesture. And maybe think twice before you flush.
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*It’s not quite that simple. The Hudson is a tidal river, the extent of brackish water reaching up to 150 miles north of the city. But a 150 mile submarine aqueduct following the riverbed would have been far less complex that the solution they opted for.