Climate chaos

I wrote this for my newsletter, but it’s worth reposting here… as well as adding more based on some reader feedback.

People usually say “Amsterdam is burning” for Pride week (started Saturday), but we’re really burning up. The last few days have seen record temperatures in the Netherlands (as in never recorded at this level) and Europe. It’s 30C in my office (86Freedom units) and it’s going to be 37± later today. The Economist writes the obvious: Record temperatures in Europe and the US are the result of climate change. Also read the article for its discussion of “attribution,” as in, “these temperatures (or this hurricane) are 5x more likely due to climate change.”

I think our name for these trends needs to change again. We’ve gone from global warming to climate change, but I think climate chaos is clearer. (Others have added a new season: The Bad Season.)

What does climate chaos mean? “At Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport the taxi runways are being sprayed with water to stop it from melting.” Or here’s a personal example: I ordered an air conditioner* for delivery yesterday, but PostNL’s IT systems failed, and it’s a day late. (Sleeping last night with 28C indoors was not easy.) Can PostNL blame record temperatures? Maybe. Maybe that’s why Schiphol’s fuel systems also failed on Wednesday, stranding thousands of passengers.

Speaking of flying, I flying Tuesday (hopefully) for a week in California. Is this another selfish act *like the A/C purchase, above? Yes and no. Yes because I am flying and buying an A/C, both of which contribute to climate chaos. No because it’s my best response to two failures of collective action: In California, my 86-year old dad has no safety net so I need to fly there to sign service contracts with private providers. I also need to buy an A/C because so many politicians have decided that it’s more important to make money now from burning oil than protect our atmospheric, earth and oceanic commons — and our futures. Since 90+ percent of people will follow in my logic (rather than the logic of that noble minority that will denying themselves everything to help the collective), we’re going to see a lot more damage result from our attempts to avoid damage.

These days, I cannot be too pessimistic about where we’re going as a species, but I have a few ideas. First, we’re going to suffer damage via a thousand little cuts (e.g., delayed flight, dead trees, or falling oxygen levels) that will reduce our quality of life for the first time since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. (People will not be able to handle this psychologically, socially or politically, since our institutions are built on growth and increasing prosperity.) Second, people are going to divert more time, money and resources to adaptation. In 2052: A Global Forecast, Jorgen Randers (of the team behind Limits to Growth) suggests that this spending will help mitigate climate chaos, but I think that damages will be coming too fast for us to notice that upside. Third, I think that a slow shift in our spending and behavior will turn into a tidal wave that will overwhelm the “old economy.” Demand for quality of life goods (everything from new electronics to cars, to larger houses) will drop as people shift to defensive spending. These shifts will hit share prices (thus portfolios and retirements) and jobs (thus housing markets), leading to a massive panic to dump shares, sell houses, and so on. (Will the rich be immune, in their enclaves? Only in the sense of The Titanic.) I’m not sure if this panic will take 10 years or 1 year, but it’s going to have bigger economic and social (and thus political) impacts than the Great Recession.

We could have prevented most (if not all) of this if political leaders had embraced change 40 years ago. Even oil and gas companies could have pushed the effort along, if they had been sufficiently and persistently motivated to shift their focus to delivering energy (I still think there’s a chance, by diverting carbon tax revenues to them), but that didn’t happen. So, buckle up: it’s gonna be a long, ugly ride down 🙁


(1) WA responded with:

I definitely share your pessimism about the future. In particular, I get anxious thinking about climate change and our future well-being (socially, economically, etc.). I know there are people who fear this future less, and emphasize our ability to adapt. They also have many historical examples on their side. I would say I’m more susceptible to the “this time is different” reasoning, and if there was ever a time this was right, I think it has to be for climate change/chaos. Yet at the same time, to try and save for retirement (~35 years out), I think the only option is to maintain an optimistic view of the world and tuck away as much of my paycheck as possible into low-cost, equity based funds.

I guess my question would be, do you see this “massive panic” as something that would eventually lead to a result where we right our course? I.E., we’re going to sustain self-inflicted wounds, but at least there would be some albeit slow course correction. Would you take a similar “optimistic” approach about investing for a longer time horizon? I feel like if I don’t adopt this mindset, I won’t at least give myself the chance to have a solid nest egg in retirement (note: that’s assuming I don’t go medically bankrupt in my elder years in this broken healthcare system). 

My reply:

“This time is different” means discontinuity, which could up-end some asset markets by 100% (similar, but different, to the way Enron’s share price dropped by 99 percent when its fraud was uncovered).

Save for retirement assumed that savings are worth something and that “retirement” can be bought. I think it’s worth putting more effort into assets (boats, land, food) and friendships, as “market solutions” will disappear. We’re seeing this now with various types of insurance against floods, crop failure…

We will not be able to “correct course” even if we want to once we pass the tipping points. We’ve not hit one this bad in human history, as climate forcing will continue for 40 years even if we stop 100% of emissions today, and GHG concentrations would not fall to “normal” (CO2 @ 280ppm) for millennia. Put differently, the weird weather, heat waves and other disruptions we’re seeing today are the result of actions dating from the early 1980s.

Finally, it’s good to be optimistic — otherwise, there’s nothing to live for — but our optimism is more likely to resemble that of gulag prisoners who find a bit of meat in their slop than winning the lottery. Dark Age Ahead.

(2) ND responded with:

What’s the economic impact of the scenario where all governments suddenly mandate to stop all CO2 emitting industries and vehicles? 

I see GDP declining massively of course. Unemployment goes up, inflation falls, we probably enter deflation. But does that mean value of money goes up? Wouldnt there be just too much money lying around for it to be worth anything, considering there is less need for it?  

And then a more self interested question: what’s the financial hedge for the above? And for armageddon? My view: invest in building a self sustaining community in the mountains. 

My reply:

A sudden stop to CO2 emissions would indeed require most industry, transport and other “lifeline” industries to shut down. There wouldn’t be a recession, but an apocalypse, as drinking water stopped flowing, electricity shut off, and so on. Only a few people, off the grid and growing their own food, would be immune. 

So that’s not going to happen. An order to phase out CO2 emissions over 10 years would do a lot less damage while protecting most of the gains, but I’d recommend a carbon tax that started at $25/ton and doubled annually (to $12,800 in year 10) as the most efficient way to kill carbon.

The impacts on GDP would be high, but not by more than 5% per year (that’s a LOT for “my dick is as big as my GDP” politicians, but not as bad as the end of civilization), especially if we stop paying attention to that flawed measure and focus on something more useful like the Genuine Progress Indicator.

(The value of money is not very important here, except if we get into international trade and other countries NOT doing anything about CO2. That’s a mess…)

As for financial hedges, I agree with sustainable community in the mountains. The break down in trade and financial markets that can result from climate chaos brings to mind an old joke:

Two economists run into each other at the coffee shop
Bob: Wow. The markets are really in trouble, and politics are worse. 
Tom: Yeah, I think it’s really bad. Losing faith.
Bob: So, what’s your investment strategy? Bonds and gold?
Tom: Nope. Guns and rice.

Be prepared.

Interesting stuff

  1. Utrecht is a city for people (and bikes) not cars
  2. A pro-bitcoin economist explains the value of gold (“hard money”) as a hedge against feckless governments. Here are a few quotes from his book.
  3. Visualizing the spread of the Airbnb plague in Amsterdam 
  4. Bangladeshi farmers are shifting from chickens to ducks to cope with climate change. Ducks are better at dealing with floods 😉
  5. Check out (join?) the Sustainable Touring Arts Coalition 
  6. Read Isaac Asimov’s 1959 essay “How Do People Get New Ideas?
  7. The Arctic is on fire (a lot), and we’re screwed (massive GHG release)
  8. Neal Stephenson on Depictions of Reality
  9. Hong Kong made this Chinese man rich. Now he’s defending its freedom
  10. California’s past gifts to farmers are endangering its future.

H/T to DL

The economics of footprints

AK emails:

What is the economically sound argument for reducing one’s water footprint (e.g. by eating less meat)? The common sense explanation goes something like this:

“There is a limited amount of freshwater that is available to humanity every year. People waste a lot of that on unimportant things. If people used water less wastefully, more water would be available for more important things. Hence, water scarcity would be reduced.”

That is, roughly, the common sense argument. But I am sure that this is the sort of question where common sense could easily be wrong, and a more accurate view of economics could provide a lot of clarity. So I was interested in your opinion. How would you describe it in economic terms?

Luckily for AK, I just wrote a draft paper on “pricing water scarcity” that deals with these topics. (I’ll be posting a draft here in a month or so, for you all to comment on.)

The key ideas here are water scarcity and waste/important, which can be mapped to supply and demand. In terms of supply, “water scarcity” means that there is too much quantity demanded at current prices for the available quantity of water. When I teach, I give students the example of 20 $0.50 beers for 20 people. At those prices, it’s probable that the 20 beers will be gone before people “lose their thirst.” At $5 per beer, that probability falls. At $20/beer, I am pretty sure that there will be beer left at the end of the night. Note that people are just as thirsty with higher prices, but unwilling to spend money that can be used elsewhere (opportunity cost) on overpriced beers. On cheap beers… they’re all in.

Also note that some people don’t like beer, at any price. In the beer example, they may not play a role, except in the long run, which allows for people to change their tastes (stopping or starting beer drinking). This discussion of preferences and tastes is not as relevant with water (we all need to drink and bathe), but it can get interesting when it comes to “marginal water uses,” which brings us to demand.

It’s pretty easy to rank our preferences (or “demands”) for different water uses, beginning with “important” (drinking water) and moving to less important (in terms of your priorities but also in your willingness to pay) uses. Watering the lawn or filling a swimming pool might be seen as “wasteful” to some people, but pretty much everyone can agree that they are less important, or that people — when faced with water prices — will demand less water for their lawns without reducing their demand for drinking or bathing water. 

We consume most of our water indirectly, via eating foods or using goods that require water to produce. A meat diet indirectly uses a huge amount of water because each animal needs to eat a lot of food (food that humans can eat) before they can be turned into meat. It’s this basic thermodynamics that explains why vegans have a much smaller “diet footprint” than meat-eaters. Overconsumption of clothes, electronics, vacation travel, you name it, also results in a heavy indirect footprint. Given that indirect water consumption is often a 100x multiple of direct consumption (a hamburger requires 660 gallons/2.500 liters vs a 5 minute shower, at 5 liters/minute) and that people around the world are getting richer, we have a lot to worry about here.

Scarce water can be rationed in a few ways. Price rationing (use as much as you want as long as you pay the price) is easy to understand. Per capita rationing (everyone gets x liters, no matter their wealth or willingness to pay) is considered fair by some people but it’s harder to manage (water taps must cut off when x is reached each day) and often results in an underground market (those who use less than x sell to those who use more). Perhaps the least efficient rationing method is bureaucratic (i.e., someone deciding that you can only use water in the evenings, cannot water your lawn, or must install a low flush toilet), but bureaucrats (for some reason) seem to like that method.

Thus, we have these facts:

  • When water supply is limited, it’s necessary to forego some demands
  • Everyone has their own ranking of demands, from most to least important 
  • The easiest way to limit consumption to “important” uses is to set a price that allows people to pay for high-value uses while encouraging them to forgo low-value uses.
  • Low prices that ignore scarcity encourage consumption of water now (on the lawn) that we might need tomorrow (for drinking).

Turning to AK’s opening (What is the economically sound argument for reducing one’s water footprint, e.g. by eating less meat?), here’s my one-handed advice: Set water prices to reflect water scarcity, and people will prioritize important (to them) over wasteful (to them) water uses. This advice, given the vast quantities of water embedded in food, will mean that people who eat less meat will save far more money than people who stop taking showers. 

So enjoy your shower, flush your toilet, kill your lawn and enjoy an Impossible Burger 😉

Stuff to read

  1. The making of the Active Water video. (Cool advert, but Gatorade is a waste of money — compared to water — for 95% of drinkers.)
  2. Quitting the Mormons is hard when they are calling your kids…
  3. Sand (!) is running out… and a podcast with an author on the topic 
  4. It’s not going to be perfect but it can be DONE.
  5. The garbage man knows everything — including burning beats recycling
  6. Facebook’s Libra is no crypto currency, but it may have big impacts
  7. The Economist’s “What if?” visions of the future: Antibiotic resistant bugs, Facebook vs EU regulators, and  fights over geoengineering.
  8. It’s time to switch from “he or she” to “they”
  9. Watch “Nothing to Hide” if you worry about internet privacy (you should!)
  10. A reasonable overview of water policy (and problems) in the Western US

Review: Travel as a Political Act

Rick Steves is perhaps the most famous American giving advice on traveling abroad. I have never used his guidebooks (thinking that they were perhaps too generic for my “advanced” backpacking skills), but I just bought one for Italy.

This book (subtitle: “How to leave your baggage behind”) is not a guide for tourists but a guide for understanding other countries and cultures. What I especially enjoyed was how Steves clearly explains foreign ideas in terms familiar to Americans. I would have loved to have this book as a response to the many people who have asked why I travel and what I’ve learned.

This book very easy to read, so it’s also a good one to take on vacation. (These data are a few years old but they show that 40 percent of Americans took zero vacation years in the prior year while only 12 percent vacationed outside the US.)

But let’s get to some interesting parts of the book:

  1. “Travel as a political act” refers to the ways in which we might import new ideas and perspectives from abroad back to the US:

     We can learn more about our own country by observing other countries—and by challenging ourselves (and our neighbors) to be broad-minded when it comes to international issues. Holding our country to a high standard and searching for ways to better live up to its lofty ideals is not “America-bashing.” It’s good citizenship (loc 74).

  2. Travel is also good for YOU. Travel has changed what I eat, how I commute, what I read, and so on. My revelation is not unique. In the 14th century, Ibn Battuta wrote that “traveling leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” For Steves, “travel has taught me the fun in having my cultural furniture rearranged and my ethnocentric self-assuredness walloped. It has humbled me, enriched my life, and tuned me in to a rapidly changing world” (loc 64).
  3. Steves and I agree that travel helps us understand our own countries better, and we both lament the FUD that our house-bound neighbors espouse. For him, the lesson was to protest war and push for cannabis legalization. My lesson was to accept that Dutch culture was better for me in some ways. Sadly, most people are too afraid to travel or question the status quo:

    As the news becomes more sensationalized [Congress repeals the FCC’s Fairness Doctorine in 1987], the viewer becomes more fearful. And eventually, all that fear metastasizes into the political realm. In the long run, the transformation of news from information to entertainment—making us feel that we’re less safe—threatens the fabric of our democracy…and, ironically, actually makes our country less safe (loc 385).

  4. I agree with Steves that we could bring far more security to ourselves (and the world) by spending money on aid instead of bombs, but corporate war mongers mean that the United States American taxpayers spend $600 billion on the military and 15-times less ($40 billion) on all international affairs. I am sure that the “war on terror” would disappear if we shifted  7 percent of the military budget to doubling the international budget.
  5. Steves captures the tradeoffs for living in “socialist” Europe (loc 1093): 

    European housing, cars, gadgets, and other “stuff” are modest compared to what an American with a similar job might own. It’s a matter of priorities. Just as Europeans willingly pay higher taxes for a higher standard of service, they choose less pay (and less stuff) in exchange for more time off. Imagine this in your own life: Would you make do with a smaller car if you knew you didn’t have to pay health insurance premiums? Would you be willing to give up the luxury of a cutting-edge TV and live in a smaller house if you could cut back to 35 hours per workweek and get a few extra weeks of paid vacation? Would you settle for a 10 percent pay cut if you knew you’d never get an email or phone call from the office outside of work hours? For most Americans, I imagine that the European idea of spending more time on vacation and with their family, instead of putting in hours of overtime, is appealing.

  6. Steves captures the essence of economic migration, immigrant culture and the refugee crisis in three excellent passages:  
    1. If you’re wealthy enough to hire an immigrant to clean your house, you do it—you get a clean house, and the immigrant earns a wage. If you don’t want to trade away your personal freedom to care for an aging parent, you hire someone else to care for them…and it’s generally an immigrant. That’s just the honest reality of capitalism. (loc 1406).
    2. 99 percent of Americans descend from immigrants, whereas much of Europe has been largely homogenous for millennia. In some European countries, large-scale immigration is a fairly recent phenomenon. This makes many Europeans particularly vigilant about ensuring that Europe’s homegrown culture continues to thrive. I share their concern, and yet, it’s easy to fall into contradictions: If diversity is a tenet of EU beliefs, what’s wrong with immigrants wanting to preserve their home cultures? Is it hypocritical to celebrate the preservation of the Catalan language, but expect Algerians to learn Dutch? (loc 1425)
    3. I think the real refugee crisis is the human cost of a failed state. The refugees coming to Europe today are a direct result of poorly drawn borders by European colonial powers a century ago. If Europeans (or Americans) complain about the hardship of housing those refugees, they should ponder the hardship brought about by their ancestors’ greedy colonial policies a century ago (loc 1440).
  7. Steves is also perceptive on (un)sustainable choices and lifestyles:

    In America, we have freezers in our garages so we can buy in bulk to save money and avoid needless trips to the supermarket. In contrast, Europeans have small refrigerators. It’s not necessarily because they don’t have room or money for a big refrigerator. They’d actually rather go to the market in the morning. The market visit is a chance to be out, get the freshest food, connect with people, and stay in touch (loc 1511). 

    The bottom 40 percent of humanity lives on roughly 5 percent of the planet’s resources. The top 20 percent lives on over 75 percent. The greatest concentration of wealth among economic elites in the history of the human race is happening at the same time our world is becoming a global village. Meanwhile, even in the countries that benefit (such as the United States), the spoils go mostly to the already wealthy—padding profits for shareholders even as working-class American jobs are exported south of our borders, leaving many citizens of the rich world underemployed and disillusioned (loc 1859).

    Any society needs to subscribe to a social contract—basically, what you agree to give up in order to live together peacefully. Densely populated Europe generally embraces Rousseau’s social contract: In order to get along well, everyone will contribute a little more than their share and give up a little more than their share. Then, together, we’ll all be fine. The Danes—who take this mindset to the extreme—are particularly conscientious about not exploiting loopholes. They are keenly aware of the so-called “free rider problem”: If I had to identify one major character flaw of Americans, it might be our inability to appreciate the free rider problem. Many Americans practically consider it their birthright to make money they didn’t really earn, enjoy the fruits of our society while cheating on their taxes, drive a gas-guzzler just because they can afford it, take up two parking spots so no one will bump their precious car, and generally jigger the system if they can get away with it. We often seem to consider actions like these acceptable…without considering the fact that if everyone did it, our society as a whole would suffer (loc 2258).

    A perfect example of Danish “social trust” is the image of babies sleeping in carriages outside a restaurant while the parents eat inside. You might say, “But no one is watching!” A Dane will say, “Everyone is watching” (loc 2310).

  8. What about drugs, prisons, terror and the Holy Lands??

    When it comes to soft drugs, policies in much of Europe are also more creative and pragmatic than America’s… Much of the US seems afraid to grapple with this problem openly and innovatively. Rather than acting as a deterrent, the US criminalization of marijuana drains precious resources, clogs our legal system, and distracts law enforcement attention from more pressing safety concerns (loc 2909).

    While America is still building more prisons, the Dutch are closing theirs. My Dutch friends needle me with the fact that the US has the world’s highest incarceration rate—nearly 10 times the Dutch rate—at an annual cost of $60 billion (loc 3037).

    Yes, there are evil people in Iran. Yes, the rhetoric and policies of Iran’s leaders can be objectionable. But there is so much more to Iran than the negative image drummed into us by our media and our government. I left Iran impressed more by what we have in common than by our differences. Most Iranians, like most Americans, simply want a good life and a safe homeland for their loved ones. Just like my country, Iran has one dominant ethnic group and religion that’s struggling with issues of diversity and change—liberal versus conservative, modern versus traditional, secular versus religious (loc 3707).

    Religions around the world seem to always be stoking turmoil—even though the teachings of those religions say “love your neighbor,” and all of them have the “do unto others…” Golden Rule. I’ve decided that fundamentalism is the crux of the problem…For a person of faith to travel without letting the experience stir what’s inside them is a lost opportunity. Of course, many people actually go on religious trips—pilgrims on pilgrimages. While I’ve never done exactly that, every time I’m at a pilgrimage site, I endeavor to keep a positive attitude about the devotion that surrounds me. It’s easy to be cynical about the reverence given to relics I don’t understand, the determination many have to believe in what seem like silly miracles, or the needless pain someone suffers in the name of their faith—whether by climbing a mountain in bare feet or a long staircase on their knees (loc 3898 and 4097).

    The conditions in Balata [a Palestinian refugee camp] are dismaying, particularly when you think that people have been living this way here for decades. But Israelis point out that Israel has taken in many Jewish refugees and assimilated them into their prosperous society. Meanwhile, they claim that Palestine—and the Arab world—has intentionally kept the West Bank refugee camps in squalor in order to stir public opinion against Israel (4379).

  9. And… finally… coming home:

    On returning from a major trip, you sense that your friends and co-workers have stayed the same, but you’re…different. It’s enlightening and unsettling at the same time (loc 4513).

    Mark Twain wrote, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” These wise words can be a rallying cry for all travelers once comfortably back home. When courageous leaders in our community combat small-mindedness and ignorance—whether it’s pastors contending with homophobia in their congregations, employers striving to make a workplace color-blind, or teachers standing up for intellectual and creative freedoms—travelers can stand with them in solidarity (loc 4548).

    My one-handed conclusion is that all Americans should read this book. Travelers will recognize echoes of prior thoughts while the sedentary will (I hope) understand the common humanity that binds us all. 

Stuff to read

  1. Guess what? House Hunters (a reality TV show) is scripted
  2. An incredible detective story: tracking down a fake Rolex “brand”
  3. Here’s an interview with me [mp3] on the Future of Agriculture podcast. (I’m not optimistic.)
  4. I recommend listening to “Hash Power, a three part audio documentary that explores the world of blockchain and cryptocurrencies,” which was published in 2017, thus providing some interesting predictions of where crypto was going (and not!)
  5. Three delusional visions of smart cities
  6. How Boeing lost its way
  7. Thomas Sowell explains why “trickle down economics” is a lie
  8. A new report on water governance in China
  9. Marriage is more complicated than just a couple making promises
  10. Oceans are absorbing carbon at a rate likely to cause mass extinction within this century. So, yeah, we’re fucked.

Five case studies of water scarcity

I began teaching (!) water scarcity this year. The main assignment for the course was a case study explaining water scarcity (from physical to political) affecting a city of the student’s choosing. 

Although this was the first time I gave this assignment (it draws on my 2014 Water Smarts calendar), I was very pleased with some of the results and asked the students if I could share their work. So here are their PDFs!

Please leave feedback on these cases and/or additional information that would improve the treatment of scarcity. I will be using this format again next (school) year!

Stuff to read

  1. Exercise is not just about losing weight
  2. When is a “burger” a burger — and other naming nonsense
  3. Americans only started working too much (rather, taking too few vacations) in the 1980s
  4. Here are some excerpts from a new documentary on Elinor and Vincent Ostrom and the study of the commons, which will come out in May 2020
  5. In an experiment, students lived in the desert on 15 liters of water per day “without difficulty adjusting to a low-resource lifestyle.” Could you?
  6. Thirty people are sailing from Europe to the COP meeting in Chile. Support their mission?
  7. The most important wind in the world — the monsoon — is failing.
  8. China is exporting its digital surveillance model, beginning with BRI countries. Related: Read this 1993 essay on Singapore: “Disneyland with the death penalty
  9. “Bluntly stated, we should accept the grim reality that victory in modern major wars was most often achieved by mass slaughter, not by heroics or the genius of generals” Related: I agree with Bernie Sanders on “ending America’s endless war
  10. I’m quoted in this essay on over-population, sustainability and the Bay Area.

Raising boys better

I won’t bother to provide evidence that boys have a lot of energy, take risks and cause lots of “accidents” (some of which win them Darwin Awards).

Given those facts, I suggest that we reconsider how we raise — or educate — boys. Here’s my logic:

  1. Boys are likely to grow up to be men. With longer life expectancy, there’s no need to rush boys from school to work and family.
  2. The world is getting more complex, which means that education needs to reflect that complexity. Back in the day, boys only needed muscles and energy to do a job. Now they must wrestle with abstract concepts, office politics and 30+ years of evolving, cumulative responsibility.
  3. Somewhat paradoxically, but also obviously, there are fewer men willing to do manual labor and service jobs that involve low wages and hard work. The resulting shortages can result in a society of middle managers doing bullshit jobs while the working classes make big wages just for showing up. 
  4. Boys are less considerate and communicative than girls, especially when they are told that the route to success involves taking risks (but no prisoners) and they are judged according to their salary, car model, etc. 

From all of these trends, I think we should rethink male careers and education along these lines:

  1. Make sure boys complete their high school education.
  2. Do not let them into higher education until they are 25 years old.
  3. In the middle years (18-25) encourage them to do manual labor, military or civil service, go traveling, etc. The goal here — and the point of this post — is that these “aimless” years will help them learn about themselves, work off excess energy, deliver on obligations to employers and friends, and so on.
  4. After these rumspringa years, they will have more knowledge, patience and confidence, such that they may go to higher education — or not. The key is that they will be able to benefit from the experience and opportunities, unlike the case now where lots of young men seem more lost than found (I’ve seen a few examples).
  5. I’m guessing that men who are graduating at 30 years old will have plenty of time to start families and careers that will last a lot longer than many families and careers now do for young men who lack the emotional depth and confidence of experience that comes from taking care if yourself for some time. (I’m biased, as I traveled between 25 and 30, only starting graduate school when I was 32. I’ve also met plenty of “mature” students who got far more out of their education.)

My one-handed conclusion is that men mature later than women, and that our systems and institutions need to reflect that fact and the ways that the modern world has complicated “traditional” male roles. It’s time to raise boys in a system that recognizes how they mature.

What do you think?