With the advent of the digital age, many anticipated that this technological leap would substantially curb carbon emissions, perhaps even freeing us from the weight of physical possessions. The shift from paper documents to digital files, printed books and newspapers to e-books, and CDs and tapes to streaming services was expected to diminish the consumption of resources traditionally linked with these formats. For instance, vinyl records are the physical embodiment of the service in music, just as paper is to a story, existing primarily to deliver the service to the consumer. After all, what purpose does a vinyl serve if it cannot be played? Or a book written in a language one cannot understand? It's a widely held belief that the physical aspects of these services are unnecessary, comparable to the human appendix or wisdom teeth: vestigial elements that are best removed to avoid potential issues.
However, through difficult lessons, we've come to understand that the separation of physical matter from the service it provides is not as clear-cut as we once thought. Physical objects possess an inherent significance that contributes to forming our identities, which can vary significantly in scope. This can range from the importance of driving a Tesla as a symbol of one's commitment to environmental sustainability and a marker of socio-economic status to the smaller, more personal symbols like wearing a Saree to express cultural heritage and ethnic roots.
Moreover, physical objects serve as mementos of life experiences and milestones. Perhaps a vinyl record was a gift from a loved one, or an old book from a second-hand shop carries a story marked by the scent of aged ink. Or, consider the sentimental value attached to receiving a physical gift card accompanied a handwritten note.
It is improbable that the world will shift entirely to the immaterial, virtual and digital sphere anytime soon; the material world will continue to coexist with us. We often perceive the virtual world and digital domain as intangible; a network of incorporeal phenomenon manifested through invisible yet intricate world of radio frequencies, staelite and Wi-Fi signals .
Regardless of our perceptions of the digital world's creation, it is underpinned by a vast material footprint. For example, when purchasing a shirt from a retail store, we remain oblivious to the manufacturing conditions, the logistics involved in its transport, and the extensive network of materials and labor that bring the product to us. Similarly, the digital world, with its data centers, hardware components, and infrastructure, has a considerable environmental impact, potentially surpassing that of obtaining services in their physical forms.
This discussion is not meant to provoke a simplistic judgment or indulge in romantic nostalgia for a pre-digital era. Instead, it aims to highlight the complexities of material presence that stretches across digital and non-digital world. As consumers, it's crucial to be mindful of these factors when engaging with the digital and the material world.
Is "Sustainable Energy" Immaterial?
As we navigate the journey towards sustainable living, a significant lesson is unfolding amid the booming solar energy sector. For a considerable period, solar panels were celebrated as the pinnacle of renewable energy solutions, envisioned to one day entirely supplant coal-generated electricity. This goal, while commendable and driven by a worldwide upsurge in solar energy adoption supplemented by federal tax incentives in the United States, has led to a noteworthy advancement in the adoption of solar energy in residential settings. However, a previously overlooked issue now fundamentally challenges the industry's core principles.
In our dialogues about solar energy, we have often overlooked the reality that transforming sunlight or wind power into electricity to warm our homes or cool our appliances is far from a disembodied process. The entire lifecycle of solar panels, from manufacturing to transportation and eventual installation, entails a substantial material footprint. An even more pressing concern is recycling aging panels amidst the necessity for technological upgrades. Establishing a sustainable material management framework for handling older panels becomes paramount as the sector matures.
This situation exposes a critical oversight in our conceptual understanding of sustainability and green living. We habitually view alternative energy solutions, zero-waste lifestyles, and eco-friendly practices as almost ethereal, mistakenly detaching them from their tangible environmental impacts.
While advocating for structural changes in global, mainly Western, energy policies is crucial, it doesn't absolve individuals and communities of their responsibility to contribute to these shifts. Our daily lives are interwoven with various materials and products – designed, crafted, and altered. These products threaten and shape our existence, from the homes that shelter us to the synthetic proteins flowing through our veins or even the microplastics we inadvertently inhale. We commonly refer to these as "consumer products." Yet, ironically, it often feels like these products consume us, molding our identities around the possessions we accumulate. Regardless of our perspective, the values we extract from our material world shape our understanding of what it means to be human in the contemporary era.
Carbon Makes Us Human
In their recent book, "The Sixth Element: How Carbon Shapes Our World," authors Theodore P. Snow and Don Brownlee explore how carbon, being a pivotal element, plays a central role in both the cosmic universe and the human realm. Whether present in the environment, embedded in our toothbrushes, or woven into our yoga pants, carbon embodies humanity's essence and vitality. Rather than attempting to escape or disregard this, we should strive to cultivate a meaningful relationship with the complex world of manufactured objects.
The presence of carbon in our environment is not inherently detrimental. In fact, carbon is a fundamental component of life on Earth. Reflecting on our middle school lessons about the carbon cycle, we recognize that the decay of organic materials naturally releases carbon into the atmosphere. Therefore, we cannot introduce more carbon into the atmosphere than currently in our environment. It does, however, make a significant difference whether a carbon atom is present as CH4 (methane) or CO2 (carbon dioxide), though we shall overlook those specifics for the moment. This implies that whether we let a stick decompose naturally in our backyard or combust it for a barbecue, the ultimate emission of carbon into the atmosphere remains constant. So, what's the problem?
The main issues arise in two specific areas:
First, the unprecedented speed at which human activity releases carbon into the atmosphere is problematic. The more rapidly we emit carbon, the lesser the chance for the environment to assimilate and neutralize it, maintaining a balanced interaction with other elements. Hence, while burning a stick releases an identical quantity of carbon, the accelerated release rate hampers the environment’s ability to effectively process it.
Second, perhaps more critically, is the extraction of carbon-based fossil fuels beneath the Earth's surface. Unearthing and combusting these fuels formed millions of years ago at a rate unfamiliar to the Earth represents a substantial challenge. The Earth is unprepared for this sudden reintroduction of ancient carbon into its contemporary carbon stocks.
Nowadays, much of society perceives the "Carbon Problem" primarily as a technical challenge, focusing efforts on developing carbon capture mechanisms.
The discourse surrounding carbon capture and storage is entangled in a web of conflicting technical, political, financial, and lobbying narratives. This complexity often paints the issue as a perplexing engineering challenge, seemingly relegating the general public to a spectator role with little to no influence. Many who are passionate about environmental conservation believe that engineers have the primary responsibility to address the technical hurdles, hoping that successful solutions will pave the way for political action and the implementation of environmental regulations.
A critical aspect frequently overlooked is the role of the public opinion and lifestyle choices. We are the end-users of the plethora of products manufactured by industries, driving demand and, in turn, fueling the economy. The pivotal question is how to make more conscientious consumer choices to slow the influx of additional carbon into the atmosphere. This challenge is inherently societal, making it as much about human behavior as it is about engineering and technology.
