Some Shortages Would Make Us Creative

A recent newspaper article, about demand for energy in a post-Japan-tsunami world that might be reluctant to develop nuclear power, prompted this letter to the editor:

What is the reason to satisfy the world's insatiable need for affordable and plentiful energy? And is there a need really? Yes, there's a huge appetite, true, but need...?

Our Western civilization reminds me of compulsive shopaholics, who often perceive as needs what really are their own addictions. If tomorrow we will find a new cheap source of energy, we'll just use it up to build bigger houses and cars and TVs, and making our existence messier and more complicated.

Don't get me wrong, I'm guilty myself and could agree that indulging in exuberant excess could sometimes be gratifying. But let's not forget that a plentiful society lacks motivation and breeds laziness, while real challenges, like energy shortages when and if we face them, would awaken our creativity.

Overcoming challenges—unless they are too extreme, of course—makes people happier then plentiful life. It looks like we really don't need plentiful energy; we just need to learn how to use wisely what we've got. So far our civilization used up precious natural resources and enormous amount of energy to build mountains of waste. Plentiful energy would continue us on the same path. Some shortages would make us creative, and perhaps even turn our lives into simpler and less cluttered ones.

I have to say the writer speaks my mind.

Supermoon

Five American cousins are in town, visiting from Beijing, where they’ve been living six months and where the temperature hasn’t been above sweater weather the entire time. Before they arrived, we had corresponded about their visit to Thailand, particularly about what to pack. I advised bringing only short sleeves, flip-flops, the minimum. March is traditionally one of the hottest, driest months of the year here, so no need for jackets or umbrellas.

You’ve already guessed that I’m now backpedaling wildly, trying to explain Southeast Asia’s weird cold and wet streak. The least lame of the many lame excuses I’ve come up with is the SUPERMOON! Maybe you also read about this last Saturday, when the full moon cozied up about as close as it ever gets to the Earth, leading naturally to all kinds of predictions of weirdness to come.

Sure enough, two days ago here a quick but drenching downpour flooded Bangkok in record time, making everyone I know at least two hours late to work. Last night an earthquake in upper Myanmar led the bosses at work to activate the call tree to make sure everyone was OK. We’re all wondering what today will bring.

No need to worry about the cousins. They pretty much ignored my packing suggestions. Not that we didn’t believe you, they said. Bodies that are used to wearing fleece just need a little confirmation before they make the big leap to the tank top, and vice versa.

Well-Timed Mozart Requiem

Bangkok offers a surprising amount of good classical music. Not so surprisingly, the auditoriums are rarely full. I’ve never had trouble getting a ticket to anything I’ve wanted to see. Once I even bought a seat ahead of time and was told a few days later that I would get a refund, maybe because they didn’t sell enough in advance to make the performance worth giving.

When I noticed this week that a group of college students was putting on Mozart’s Requiem at the Siam Society, I figured there was no need to arrive early. Wrong! Standing room only! Nobody was turned away, but plenty of people had to listen from the lobby.

To be sure, the singers from Mahidol University did a great job. The soloists were especially superb, projecting their lines to the rafters as if Latin were their first language.

Beyond the musicians themselves, another explanation for the packed house might have been the tsunami in Japan. The concert was of course scheduled before last week’s disaster. But the powerful music, along with lyrics like “Grant them eternal rest,” and “Let the perpetual light shine upon them,” was therapeutic for many in the audience.