My friend glanced over, her eyes connecting with mine ever so briefly. With some hesitancy, she asked: “Do you ever feel lonely?” We had just dropped off our kindergarteners – my youngest, her eldest child. The gloss of a tear shone in her eyes in that moment of vulnerability. Could her despondency have anything to do with – cheap oil?
Oil has been fuelling our economy, delivering our food, shaping our lifestyle for a relatively short period in human history, yet its impact reverberates through our lives on a massive scale.
Watching Rob Hopkins' TED Talk recently, I learned that one litre of oil has offered us the equivalent of 35-person hours of work. Oil has enabled us to ramp up just about everything we do – from the distances we travel, to the scale of extraction, production, and development that power our new global economy. It has propped up our standard of living and contributed to massive population growth.
The free and easy flow of oil has even shaped the design of our cities. Roadways take us away from our neighbourhoods great distances to schools, stores, and workplaces. Our food is shipped an average of 2,400 kilometres arriving in grocery stores often short on flavour and nutrients.
Oil has brought mass production of cheap – read disposable – goods. According to the short documentary The Story of Stuff, the average lifespan of cheap, mass-produced products is six months from resource extraction, to store shelf, to our homes, and inevitably into the landfill.
The wild ride of cheap oil has been exhilarating, if not superficial, but the excitement is waning as we realize the damage and limitation involved in fuelling our extravagance.
There are ramifications for our oil joy ride. For one, we have depleted much of the accessible oil reserves. Hopkins notes that back in 1939, one unit of energy invested provided 100 units of useable energy. Now one unit invested provides a paltry 11 units. Extraction is also becoming dirtier and more dangerous with fracking, oil sands and deep sea drilling. Another repercussion is the toxic spew of chemicals into our air, land and water. Carbon emissions have increased dramatically in recent decades as multinational corporations traipse about the globe finding the cheapest labour to protect profit margins, never having to account for the environmental impact of their production model. Our health is suffering too, through exposure to the chemical cocktail, a sedentary lifestyle, as well as overconsumption and undernourishment with each bite of processed food. Ultimately, our frenzied cheap oil adventure has drawn us away from quieter, more soulful experiences living in community, belonging to a “tribe.”
Everyone is motoring around town, even around the globe, consuming mass produced, soulless food and products, all the while insulated from each other. “Glorified busyness” is what my friend calls it. We don't feel we have time to slow down, take our foot off the gas pedal to experience the richness of life that happens when we connect with each other. The unease of this is fuelling a movement back to handcrafted goods, homegrown produce, slow food and walkable, sustainable cities. We are social creatures, and we are beginning to understand the fulfilment we are seeking is not out there in “busyness” and piles of doodads. It has been here all along in our own neighbourhoods, over satisfying meals and common experiences.
I turn to my friend. I listen and share her disappointment at everyone scattering in a multitude of directions to do a multiplicity of errands – too busy to connect. I decide to step out of my own hurried life for a moment and embrace the opportunity to offer my friendship and the comfort that it can bring to a fellow kindergarten mom.
Jill grew up in St Albert, has a Bachelor of Education from University of Alberta and is passionate about nature, the environment, and building community.
