Optimism over Despair: On Capitalism, Empire, and Social Change

I’m pretty sick of reading the opinions of old white men, but I’ll make an exception for Chomsky. I could use a dose of optimism and thought it would be unusual to come from such a source. The book is the result of a series of interviews with C.J. Polychroniou between 2013-2017 and all previously published in Truthout. Yes, there are brief touches on the Toxic T administration, but life in January 2017 looks much different in August 2017 when I read this.

Spoiler alert: there’s not a ton of optimism, although at the end of section 1 (and repeated at the end of section 3), he makes the best case for optimism:

If we succumb to despair we will help ensure that the worst will happen. And if we grasp the hopes that exist and work to make the best use of them, there might be a better world. Not much of a choice.

Chomsky consistently argues that the two most pressing issues we face are climate change and the possibility of nuclear war, saying that we don’t talk enough about the latter and are way too complacent about the former. One of the problems in raising concern about global warming is the absurdity that “40 percent of the US population doesn’t see why it is a problem, since Christ is returning in a few decades.”

The other point he hammers is that the US is unusual to the extent that we’re a “business-run society, where short-term concerns of profit and market share displace rational planning.” We also have a disproportionate part of the population that are religious fundamentalists. Basically, we’re screwed. Only don’t give up! Keep trying even though there is no hope.

Another note: I did not know about the “eloquent and poignant manifesto” left by the Austin pilot who suicided by flying his plane into an IRS office in Feb 2010. Worth a read and a helluva way to send a message about taxes.

Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence–From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror

The 2016 election caused a collective trauma to the U.S. Therapists are experiencing boom times, with one Florida doctor noting 80% of her clients say the election is a source of fear and sadness. Requests for online therapy through Talkspace tripled immediately after the election. In an effort to try and heal my own shocked and broken heart, I reached out to Judith Herman’s legendary book about trauma. I mean in no way to belittle the other forms of trauma by equating them with post-election trauma. I offer up a few tidbits learned along the way, but know there is a long road ahead to rebuild connections and restore my faith in humanity.

The book is broken into two parts: the historical search to diagnose this disorder (from hysterical women to shell-shocked soldiers to sexual abuse survivors) and an overview of the healing process. I found the former part to be of the most interest, the latter self-help component to be a bit saggy for my taste.

Fascinating that the study of hysteria came about as a way to divest the Catholic Church of some of its power in France. Freud was initially part of the investigation, but got freaked out when he realized the extent of what he was uncovering, the frequency of sexual assault. I didn’t realize that famous patient Anna O (Bertha Pappenheim) was Joseph Breuer’s, collaborating with Freud to publish their analysis, and that Breuer abandoned Anna after two years of intense daily “talking cure” (Bertha came up with the famous term). Falling ill for years after Breuer’s abandonment, she eventually recovered and became a passionate advocate for women’s rights.

This post-trauma disorder cropped up again in WWI as shell shock. One study estimates 40% of British battle casualties to be mental breakdowns, reports suppressed to prevent this demoralizing news from reaching the public.

The common trait of psychological trauma is a feeling of “intense fear, helplessness, loss of control, and threat of annihilation.” This describes the atmosphere of 2017. Trauma is also amplified when coupled with being taken by surprise. Hello November 9, 2016. Traumatic reactions happen when you can’t make a difference with your own action. “When neither resistance nor escape is possible, the human system of self-defense becomes overwhelmed and disorganized.”

This sums up my feeling pretty well:

Traumatic events call into question basic human relationships. They breach the attachments of family, friendship, love, and community. They shatter the construction of the self that is formed and sustained in relation to others. They undermine the belief systems that give meaning to human experience. They violate the victim’s faith in a natural or divine order and cast the victim into a state of existential crisis.

 

Janesville: An American Story

Perhaps it’s a result of overdosing on books about the failing/flailing middle class (e.g. 1, 2, or 3 which was also about Wisconsin), but I was reluctant to read this all the way to the end. Amy Goldstein takes us on an in-depth tour of Janesville, Wisconsin, home of Paul Ryan, and a town where GM shut down one of its oldest factories in 2008. Other industry in the town left as well, Parker Pen having been sold to investors and eventually to Gillette, jobs marching out of town in the thousands. She shows you what life looks like as a family slides from middle class into needing help from the local food pantry, and poor families slipping into poverty sometimes abandoning their kids into homelessness. The impact of job loss ripples outward as people who made the seats that went into the cars also get shut down (and other ancillary services like day care, etc. that are now no longer affordable).

One man opts to become a “gypsy” commuting to a GM factory in Indiana and sharing an apartment with another Janesville gypsy during the week, then driving 5 hours back each weekend. Others go back to technical school to pick up skills and hope to find work. Some are successful, like Barb who helps developmentally disabled adults. Some fail, like Barb’s best friend Kristi who kills herself after getting a job at the jail and falling in love with a prisoner. Suicide rates double in the town after the factory closes.

Mostly you see the splintering of a town, with rich optimists on one side (aka Paul Ryan supporters) who give lip service about jobs and things turning around, and those thousands who are actually impacted, who learn to do without, to eat a lot of pasta, to give up their dreams.

Iron & Silk

Nowhere nearly as good as the other book about China I recently read, but at least not painful to read. Perhaps the only painful part was the author photo in the back, showcasing the young author in a sleeveless t-shirt to show off his bulging martial arts muscles while eating Chinese takeout with a plastic fork. Yikes.

This came out in 1986, a record of Salzman’s two years teaching English and studying gong fu with a seemingly endless stream of willing teachers. (And yet, he protects his own time from frequent requests to give private language lessons by saying no). He also picks up a calligraphy teacher or two, and practices his sketching along the foggy river befriending fishermen who are dazzled by seeing a white man who speaks Chinese. A true Renaissance man, Salzman fixes an old lady’s piano and brings his cello to the fisherman’s home to give a concert (they’re dazzled most by the red velvet lining the case).

Charmed Circle: Gertrude Stein & Company

I will never understand the impulse to write a biography about someone you don’t like. James Mellow has little respect for Stein’s genius and his disdain comes through in sneers throughout. Maybe his purpose was to sneak an encomium to Leo Stein into a book that people would be tricked into reading, much more interested about his stunningly talented sister instead. Snide comments about Gertrude’s girth start in the first paragraph and pepper the remainder of the text. The only reason I picked this up was because it was the source of a reference in Pat Highsmith’s bio about how much Stein and Picasso adored the Katzenjammer Kids comics. I’m taking a hard pass on the remaining hundreds of pages of this travesty of a biography.

The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate: Discoveries from a Secret World

German forester Peter Wohlleben puts on his writing cap (with the help of English translator Jane Billinghurst) to share the secret life of trees. This book had the potential to be amazing, but the writing bogged it down, laborious and heavy where it could have danced in the wind among the treetops.

So many crazy facts!  Trees can accurately identify the insect attacking them by their saliva and release a specific pheromone to attract a “beneficial predator” to get rid of the attacker.

Trees talk to each other by electrical pulses in interconnected root systems carried by fungal networks. WHAT?! This has been deemed the “wood wide web.” Cultivated plants, however, lose their ability to communicate above or below ground, and as isolated beings are easy prey for insects. Trees also help each other out, funneling nutrients to their sick or dying friends.

This is simply insane: “When you measure water pressure in trees, you find it is highest shortly before the leaves open up in the spring. At this time of year, water shoots up the trunk with such force that if you place a stethoscope against the tree, you can actually hear it.”

This also mind boggling: “To protect its needles from freezing, a conifer fills them with antifreeze. To ensure it doesn’t lose water to transpiration over the winter, it covers the exterior of its needles with a thick layer of wax.”

Trees act as disinfectants, killing germs by releasing phytoncide from their needles. Walnut trees have compounds in their leaves that are insect repellent (gardeners are advised to put their benches under walnuts to avoid mosquitoes).

One group of researchers registered roots crackling at a frequency of 220 hertz. “Whenever the seedling’s roots were exposed to a crackling at 220 hertz, they oriented their tips in that direction.”

Man’s Search for Himself

Rollo May’s book from 1953 is oddly appropriate many decades later, mentioning the “semi-psychotic state, Third World War and catastrophe hovering around the corner.” The first half of the book was devoured greedily, but then I got somewhat bored by the last parts. He quotes T.S. Eliot’s The Hollow Men a lot, along with Kafka, Goethe, Freud (who always gets some adjective like “venerable” before his name).

May says, “The chief problem of people in the middle decade of the twentieth century is emptiness.” People don’t know what they want or even what they feel.  Another common characteristic is loneliness: “when a person does not know with any inner conviction what he wants or what he feels… he senses danger and his natural reaction is to look around for other people who will give him some sense of direction or comfort that he is not alone in his fright.” He mentions the anxiety that swept over the world “like a tidal wave when the first atom bomb exploded over Hiroshima,” causing interior panic since no one knew which way the world would turn.

To combat this aloneness, we gather in useless groups. May dips into a typical cocktail hour where people meet the same people every night and have the same conversations. “What is important is not what is said, but that some talk be continually going on.”

Another scary parallel to today’s hyper-connected world of false sentiment expressed in Likes, Claps, or various other virtual reality praise:

Since the dominant values for most people in our society are being liked, accepted and approved of, much anxiety in our day comes from the threat of not being liked, being isolated, lonely or cast off.

May points out the oddity that radio programs frequently signed off with “Thanks for listening.”…

Why should the person who is doing the entertaining thank the receiver for taking it? To acknowledge applause is one thing, but thanking the recipient for deigning to listen and be amused is quite a different thing. It betokens that the action is given its value by the whim of the consumer.

Hate yourself? Probably part of the reason you hate other people:

The self-condemning substitute provides the individual with a rationalization for his self-hate, and thus reinforces the tendencies toward hating himself. And, inasmuch as one’s attitudes toward other selves generally parallel one’s attitude toward one’s self, one’s covert tendency to hate others is also rationalized and reinforced. The steps are not big from the feeling of worthlessness of one’s self to self-hatred to hatred for others.

Melville: His World and Work

Who cares if Melville was gay? I certainly don’t give a fig (one of his favorite snacks) about his or any other genius’s sexuality. Yet that’s a bugaboo that must be faced in every single biography about the man. To be fair, his circle jerking in the “A Squeeze of the Hand” chapter of MD is over-the-top madness and hilarious, but must we dissect him to this degree?

Delbanco takes on the thankless task of creating a vivid biography of someone who left mostly traces of himself only in his written work, scattered letters, a thin journal here and there. This book is expansive in its exploration of Melville’s oeuvre, panning for nuggets of his life in the gold streams of prose. The best part was a re-ignition of my desire to read MD again.

Other bits:

  • I appreciated learning about Melville’s habit of buying a book for his library only after he’d read a copy borrowed from a friend or the library. Hey-yo, fellow traveler!
  • After the thudding failure of MD, Melville actually proposed publishing his next book under a pseudonym!

Georgia: A Guide to its Towns and Countryside

As expected, this WPA guidebook written about Georgia in 1940 sucks. Anything written by Southerners about the South before the Civil Rights Movement must be approached with caution. Nothing in here worth taking away. Provides the usual details about towns, only helpfully denotes that of the 6 movie theaters, 2 are for blacks, er, Negroes.

This topic even merits its own section. Which one of these chapters is not like the others?

Gross.

 

Ottoline: The life of Lady Ottoline Morrell

A tremendously boring biography about a tremendously interesting woman, Ottoline. Her life intersected with so many of the greats we revere today, and yet the story of her life as told by Darroch falls flat on its face. Friends with Virginia Woolf, Vanessa Bell, Bertrand Russell (lovers, actually), Katherine Mansfield, Murray-Middleton, T.S. Eliot, D.H. Lawrence, Lytton Strachey, Roger Fry, Duncan Grant, Clive Bell, the Asquiths, Henry Lamb (another lover), etc. etc. etc. She met Gertrude Stein in Paris, and was immortalized in the Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas as a “marvellous female version of Disraeli.”

Probably the most interesting bits gleaned from this dull tome were two pieces of unusual language: the idea that someone can be melancholy (and not melancholic), and the concept of someone getting their portrait painted as “sitting to” a painter, not “sitting for.”

I’m always hungry for gossip that denigrates Middleton-Murry, Katherine Mansfield’s unworthy husband, and this letter from Bertrand Russell to Ottoline does nicely: “I thought Murry beastly and the whole atmosphere dead and putrefying.” Also a comment dropped by Ott in her memoirs about KM calling him “a little mole hung out on a string to dry.”

Ottoline’s first impression of Katherine Mansfield wasn’t the best, KM having been embarrassed into silence by DH Lawrence’s violent political speech, she “sat very silent and Buddha-like on the big sofa—she might almost have held in her hand a lotus-flower.”

A Visit to Don Otavio: A Traveler’s Tale from Mexico

A delightful travel book about Mexico by Sybille Bedford, soaking up as much of the New World post WWII before heading back to Europe. (At one point she considers sailing on a boat from Vera Cruz to Bordeaux that would allow her to take two small donkeys back to Normandy.)  Descriptions waft out of her book with the scent of freshly made tortillas, tinkling with the clink of ice in a glass of rum or tequila, sparkling with the frank heat of a noontime sun.

I sipped from this book carefully, not gobbling at the usual speed and keeping a separate tally of all the intriguing words she packed in. This week I’ve become a bit of a word connoisseur, sampling the sound of each as I strain toward writing my own. These are not words you find in today’s sparse and modern tomes:

expostulate excrement sybaritic admixture rend desolation volcanic haphazard proportion graft expulsion promulgation appurtenance charlatan ossify miasma exegesis exorbitant inviolate somnolent torpor quiescence dour chafe sempiternal empyrean satraps gauleiters inured

Sybille and her friend “E.” (Esther Murphy Arthur) leave New York’s Grand Central and head south by train. I knew I was in for a treat early on when I encountered her acerbic retelling of the various availability of alcohol per state.

E. was told to wait until we have crossed the state line.  It is all very confusion. Oklahoma and Kansas are bone dry, that is everybody drinks like fishes. In Vermont you are rationed to two bottles of hard liquor a month. In Pennsylvania you cannot get a drink on Sunday; in Texas you may only drink at home, in Georgia only beer and light wines, in Ohio what and as much as you like but you have to buy it at the Post Office. Arizona and Nevada are wet but it is a criminal offence to give a drink to a Red Indian. In New York you cannot publicly consume anything on a Sunday morning but may have it sent up to an hotel bedroom. And nowhere, anywhere, in the Union can you buy, coax or order a drop on Election Day.

Her descriptions of the country are pure poetry, lyrical, flowing. Laziness overcomes me and instead of transcribing, I take the easy way out by screengrabbing Amazon’s copy (“Creole ladies went to Mass covered in diamonds leading pet leopards” and “women in crinolines sat at banquet among the flies at Vera Cruz” are you kidding me, perfect!):

The pair spend weeks in Mexico City, (just “Mexico” to locals), exploring the streets and jumping on buses for gut-wrenching lurching toward other towns up and down mountains. Drinking is somewhat of a problem as bars aren’t open to women except certain hotel bars. But this isn’t so terrible, “this is not a good country to drink in: in daytime one does not want it at all, and at night one wants it too much.” The wines are horrible, but Sybille learns to swallow it “with a liberal admixture of water, like a man.”

Of the sights, there is much to see. “Everywhere. No need, no point, to plan and rush, only to stand, to stroll and stare; to connect. Not great beauty, not the perfect proportions, the slow-grown, well-grown balance, not the long-tended masterpiece of thought and form, the tight French gem, but the haphazard, the absurd, the overblown, the savage, the gruesome. The fantastic detail and the frightening vista; the exotically elegant; the vast, the far, the legendarily ancient.”

She buys a manual of conversation for Indian phrases. In a section headed Useful Words and Phrases, page one has:
‘Are you interested in death, Count?’
‘Yes, very much, your Excellency.’

E.’s cousin Anthony joins them midway through the trip, making friends with all the Mexican gentlemen and paving the way for an easier journey. Anthony is on vacation from his job in Baltimore and after a few weeks of fun, lolling about Don Otavio’s well-managed house reading and drinking and talking and exploring, Sybille broaches the fact that he must return in three weeks. “How can you bear it? Cellophane, television, the deep-freeze unit, getting and spending. The whole old bag of nothing.”

A book like this makes me want to travel again. Maybe.

 

Henry Darger

Life is sometimes too perfect. I’d requested two Darger books from various libraries that arrived just in time for the furor over Confederate statues to reach fever peak and was delighted to find several depictions of statues strangling children just as they are strangling us right now. (See images below)

The first book was Michael Bonesteel’s Henry Darger: Art and Selected Writings from 2000, which includes Bonesteel’s great essay “Henry Darger: Author, Artist, Sorry Saint, Protector of Children.” This recounts Darger’s childhood (sent to an asylum for feeble-minded children at age 12, there when one of the inmates tried to castrate himself and died 4 days later) through decades in Chicago working as a dishwasher and making art and writing and going to Mass 3 or 4 times a day. The rest of the book includes selections from Darger’s writing: Realms of the Unreal (“the reason the story runs so much with little girls as the actual heroes in this warfare is because, under most circumstances, women are braver than men”), The History of My Life, Book of Weather Reports, and his diary. In this book Bonesteel informs us that Darger pronounced his name with a hard G like Berger.

The second book was Henry Darger, edited by Klaus Biesenbach, including another essay by Bonesteel. This was almost 6 pounds of glossy reproductions of Darger’s work, including several pages of his History of My Life, which fittingly ended with “There is one really important thing I must write which I have forgotten.” Definitely a must-read for anyone who is even slightly interested in Darger.

An American Sickness: How Healthcare Became Big Business and How You Can Take It Back

Elisabeth Rosenthal’s book is a bit uneven but there are worthwhile bits tucked inside. It shines at the beginning, providing a glance back in time to what healthcare was like in the early 20th century and its evolution since into big business. Things veer off course in a bit of a preachy manner with excoriating screeds against hospitals, doctors, pharma. The book levels back to usefulness when she lays out her suggestions for how to improve things, giving specific advice for individuals. Besides always asking for things to be done “in-network” and asking how much tests/etc. cost, I found her ideas around hospital bills insightful:

  1. Make it clear you didn’t request a private room (they have a glut of these) otherwise you may be hit up with a “private room supplement” charge.
  2. Admitting docs will include a page about willingness to accept financial responsibility. Write “as long as the providers are in my insurance network” before you sign.
  3. Be clear about your status- are you under observation or being admitted? Observation will cost you much much more.
  4. If you’re up for it, ask to know the identity of everyone who appears at your bedside, what they’re doing, who sent them. Or ask a friend who’s with you if you’re too ill. Write it down. Drive-by doctoring will ring up the bills big time, and you can always say no. You might be billed for a physical therapist to help you out of bed when the nurse did it. Dermatologist there to examine a rash that has nothing to do with your illness? “Tell them all to go away. Everything done to you or for you in the hospital will be billed at exorbitant rates.”
  5. Hospital may try to send you home with equipment you don’t need, like slings, knee braces, wheelchair. Decline and buy them much cheaper elsewhere.
  6. When bills arrive, request complete itemization. You should also negotiate. “Prices are so inflated that even low-level clerks are authorized to approve major discounts.” Check the bill against your notes. Protest the bill in writing to create a record. Argue against surprise out of network fees.

Economic Rules of the Dysfunctional Medical Market:

1. More treatment is always better. Default to the most expensive treatment.
2. A lifetime of treatment is preferable to a cure.
3. Amenities and marketing matter more than good care.
4. As technologies age, prices go up rather than fall.
5. There is no free choice. Patients are stuck. And they’re stuck buying American.
6. More competition vying for business doesn’t mean better prices. It can drive prices up, not down.
7. Economies of scale don’t translate to lower prices. With their market power, big providers can simply demand more.
8. There is no such thing as a fixed price for a procedure or test. And the uninsured pay the highest prices of all.
9. There are no standards for billing. There’s money to be made in billing for anything and everything.
10. Prices will rise to whatever the market will bear.

The E-Myth Revisited: Why Most Small Businesses Don’t Work and What to Do About It

I know, I know. Dull business books have no place on my read pile rubbing shoulders with amazing literature and non-fiction gems. But this book kept coming up in conversation after conversation I’ve been having with business owners and I finally held my nose for the plunge. It didn’t stink, filled with rather straightforward and readable talk about what it takes to build a business that doesn’t consume you but that you can replicate and eventually sell. The book garnered one of the highest star ratings that I’ve ever seen for a hugely reviewed book (1658 reviews on AMZN). The “e” in e-myth is for entrepreneur, not for “electronic”, thank god.

I suppose having my own business also helped retain my interest, if you can call my consulting shop of one a business. The idea of managing folks gives me the cold sweats, so I’ve never really considered what it would take to build my business into, say, an agency. This book allows you to dream a little in that direction.

Once you make your first hire, you can celebrate, offload tasks you hate: “you suddenly understand what it means to be in business in a way you never understood before: I don’t have to do that anymore!”

The first thing he has you do is to define your Primary Aim:

  • What do I wish my life to look like?
  • How do I wish my life to be on a day-to-day basis?
  • What would I like to be able to say I truly know in my life, about my life?
  • How would I like to be with other people in my life—family, friends, biz associates, customers, employees
  • How would I like people to think about me?
  • What would I like to be doing 2 years/10 years/20 years from now?
  • What specifically do I want to learn during my life: spiritually, physically, financially, technically, intellectually, about relationships
  • How much $$ will I need to do the things I want to do and by when?

And I get it—putting things in writing makes you more able to commit to them.

There are some wacky ideas and various suggestions that I disagree with, such as the tired idea that people respond to salespeople touching them. He includes a letter to the fictional woman that he’s helping with her pie shop and creepily ends it by saying “And remember, my heart will be with you wherever you are.” Then an epilogue, then an afterword. I’m sure Gerber would invent an after-afterword if he could.

Verdict: possibly useful for anyone starting a non-consulting business.

The Last Days of Old Beijing: Life in the Vanishing Backstreets of a City Transformed

Michael Meyer’s book about living in one of the surviving hutongs that was slated for destruction in the tidal wave of modernization that the 2008 Beijing Olympics brought. This was a great read, well written and packed full of detail about the crumbling neighborhood that was a community destined to be exploded to the winds. Once evicted by The Hand, they could fight for compensation that would barely get them a part of one of the new (and not yet constructed) apartments that were in suburbs far from their current location. It was a great reminder that this type of destruction of the past is happening everywhere, and nowhere as rapidly as in China.

Meyer comes to China with the Peace Corps and stays on to teach English at a local school in his hutong, Dazhalan. He is known as Little Plumblossom and accepted into the community, and his book provides us with a stunning first-hand experience of the destruction of this part of town. Drawings go up around town to depict the future avenue, only the people aren’t Chinese but white-skinned. “The only depicted shop signs were for Pizza Hut and Starbucks.” This new plan completely disregarded the principles of feng shui that once governed the construction of imperial cities in China, where a town’s central axis should be unimpeded in the south and shielded in the north.

He used to play hockey with other locals on a lake near the Drum and Bell towers and there was an old man who had been sharpening skates since 1937, even during the 8 winters of Japanese occupation. “He was no match for developers, however. In the winter of 2005, his locale had been fenced off with panels of blue-painted tin shrouding the construction of an upscale restaurant. In a sense, the center of the Old City was reverting to its original form, when it was the playground of royalty and its acolytes.”

Construction never stops, even in the case of discovering 2,000 year old artifacts. The Cultural Relics Bureau was given a week to grab what they could from the discovered site before the land was covered with new cement foundations.

One explanation for the lack of interest in historic sites comes from architect Zhang who noted that Chinese building materials and design remained largely unchanged over 2,000 years. Old buildings were seen as reminders of feudalism.

This section reminds us that the whole world was destroying its old buildings:

The assault continued worldwide throughout the last century, as historic cities modernized. “Between the years 1900 and 2000, nearly one quarter of the landmarks of Amsterdam were leveled by Amsterdammers,” writes Anthony Tung in Preserving the World’s Great Cities. “More than half of the indexed buildings of Islamic Cairo—one of the few intact medieval Muslim cities that had existed at the beginning of the century—were destroyed by Cairenes.”

Singapore tore itself down. Athenians looted “all but a minute fraction” of their city’s nineteenth-century design. Thousands of New York building were razed by New Yorkers. Moscow knocked over its onion domes and bell towers. Despite that their city was spared from incendiary bombing during World War II, Kyoto’s residents pulled down most of its wooden buildings afterward. “Romans demolished a third of Rome’s historic structures.” The Turks allowed Istanbul’s Ottoman architecture to rot. Beginning in 1949, Beijing worried its Old Cit like a scab, scratching away the city wall, tearing off its hutong. So did the rest of China: of the three hundred walled cities that existed at the founding of the People’s Republic, only four remained intact.

Haussmann’s Paris also gets discussed. But is preservation the right answer? Meyer mentions seeing the ancient capital of Luang Prabang, Laos threatened not by bulldozers, but tourists. The historic structures were converted to guesthouses, increasing sewage, traffic, and making the city a cultural Disneyland.

This is crazy to think about: “At a time when New York was building skyscrapers such as the Empire State Building, Beijing still delivered water to homes by wheelbarrow.”