Loose tappets

First, a quotation from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance:

“In a motorcycle… precision isn’t maintained for any romantic or perfectionist reasons. It’s simply that the enormous forces of heat and explosive pressure inside this engine can only be controlled through the kind of precision these instruments give. When each explosion takes place it drives a connecting rod onto the crankshaft with a surface pressure of many tons per square inch. If the fit of the rod to the crankshaft is precise the explosion force will be transferred smoothly and the metal will be able to stand it. But if the fit is loose by a distance of only a few thousandths of an inch the force will be delivered suddenly, like a hammer blow, and the rod, bearing and crankshaft surface will soon be pounded flat, creating a noise which at first sounds like loose tappets. That’s the reason I’m checking it now. If it is a loose rod and I try to make it to the mountains without an overhaul, it will soon get louder and louder until the rod tears itself free, slams into the spinning crankshaft and destroys the engine. Sometimes broken rods will pile right down through the crankcase and dump all the oil onto the road. All you can do then is start walking.”

I was pondering the growing food crisis and this image came to mind as an example of catastrophic positive feedback – of a system which starts to go wrong in a small way, but which is so finely calibrated that this small error impacts the system exponentially, and the whole process lurches more and more wildly before collapsing – and all we can do is start walking.

You could say that the problems that people are beginning to see with regard to food are the equivalent of the sounds in the motorcycle engine. Which then means that the most important capacity is the ability to discern and read the signals correctly. Are there loose tappets, or is the engine rod loose? At which point, an explanation of my TBTM comment that our government is institutionally incompetent.

Our government – most governments – rely upon energy resource forecasts produced by the Energy Information Agency, and a report on their recent annual conference can be found at the Oil Drum here.

As discussed in the comments, there is a profound disconnect between the two groups of people considering the available data. On one side are those whose worldview is primarily constructed from financial and economic experience and data, dominant in the EIA, which sees the availability of oil increasing out to 2030. On the other side are those who are driven more by the fields of geology and physics, who see the peak in production happening within five years at best, if not already here.

One side is hearing loose tappets. The other is hearing a loose rod.

The concern I have – originally mentioned here – is with the knock-on effects as they start to cascade through the system; the equivalent of the loose rod forcing its way through the engine and rendering it useless.

Consider some more graphs. This one is historic, and shows the decline in exports from the principal suppliers.

This one shows the change in production over the last year (which reinforces the point about exports).

Essentially, the “Peakists” envision a period twenty or so years from now when there is practically no fossil fuel available in the West – in other words, availability at around 10-20% of its present availability. (Note: availability, not cost). Whereas the EIA envision a smooth increase in oil supply in response to demand.

It’s impossible to predict how the impacts of peak oil will feed through the system, but that there will be catastrophic failure if the Peakists are correct is unarguable. The issue is whether what we are experiencing already is a loose rod or a loose tappet.

I have just planted an apple tree in our back garden. We’ll be planting some more in the coming weeks.

Carrying our wounds with us

A sermon on John 20.19-end

We have this morning the familiar story of doubting Thomas – which is a story that means a great deal to me personally, as I too have moved in my life from doubt to faith, and I am greatly encouraged that it is Thomas who is privileged to give the climactic statement of this gospel ‘my Lord and my God!’ There is a natural sermon there… but I talked about Richard Dawkins last week!

There is something very important about this story which occasionally gets missed. First, and this is very important, it shows that the incarnation was not an illusion, that it wasn’t just Jesus putting on flesh like we might put on a coat – he really was flesh, and he has raised that flesh up – you could say, what this story tells us is that Jesus wasn’t pretending when he suffered

But there is something else here too, even more important, about the nature of resurrection itself – and it says something about what we have to hope for. Jesus is resurrected and I have a question for you, is he happy? [pause]

Of course he is, he has entered into glory. Now what is crucial is that he shows us what the resurrection body is like – full of mystery of course, but still we know some things – we know that he bears the marks of his crucifixion – he is happy, but he is still wounded.

I feel this is worthy of much reflection, and I would like you to take this image with you home today and ponder it – he is happy, but he is still wounded.

A few thoughts about what this story means for us and our Christian hope of resurrection.

First, we carry our wounds with us.
Second, the wounds are no longer painful but they do define us, we are the sort of people that these things have happened to. Our stories, those things which make us who we are – these are honoured by God.
Finally, the wounds are redeemed and healed – but they are not forgotten.

What this means is that what happens in this life is important – God doesn’t wipe the slate completely clean and begin again (the resurrection is not like the flood at the time of Noah); God takes what we have and changes it without destroying it. God takes the broken pieces and makes something new out of them.

This means that what we do today is of eternal significance. What we do in this world matters for ever. How we treat each other, how we treat our world, our environment – these things are invested with profound meaning. This doesn’t mean that things that go wrong cannot be redeemed – it does mean that just as we carry our own wounds with us, so too those with whom we interact will carry their woundings from us with them, and our world will carry its wounds as well.

I was pondering – should God be gracious enough to me to bring me into the kingdom on the last day – I wonder whether I will still be half-deaf, or whether that part of my nature has so profoundly shaped who I am that I couldn’t have full hearing and still be me. Yet I wouldn’t want to mislead you either. In the Kingdom there will be no hearing aids, there will be no spectacles, there will be no crutches or wheelchairs. Yet we will still be the people formed by such things, of that I am sure.

This is one of the deep mysteries revealed in this story of doubting Thomas. For the story is not just about Jesus but also about ourselves, about what we can hope for – that we will still be who we are – that everything that happens to us in this life will matter forever – that when God redeems us, he heals us – he heals, and he heals us; he will, in deed, raise us from the dead. Amen.