Think locally

Act locally.

The Basin loop is about 80K and takes around five hours to ride.

When my dad was young, the same route—well, a similar one—took all day and involved at least two flat tires.

When my Nanny was a little girl, there were only two cars in town, both taxi services. “You could walk faster than they drove.”

Which, frankly, sounds delightful. No one was getting road rage at 8 kilometers an hour. You can’t honk angrily at a horse.

We take for granted how small the world has become through jet travel and electronic communication. The world has gotten smaller, yet people have never been further apart. We can FaceTime someone in Australia but we won’t make eye contact with our neighbour at the grocery store.

In a comment on a recent post about “standard time,” someone suggested we create “global time.” The planet doesn’t need time zones, just scheduling.

I find this idea repugnant.

I want nothing to do with the other side of the world. I don’t care what time it is in Tokyo. I don’t care what they’re having for breakfast. I don’t care if they’re thriving or suffering or inventing a new kind of toilet that sings to you. Good for them. Leave me out of it.

The concept of “think globally, act locally” is asking too much of people. Extending our moral care and concern to people on the far side of the planet is inhuman and inhumane. We are creatures with real constraints. My empathy has a range limit, like a shitty Wi-Fi router. I’ve got a 50-kilometer radius of give-a-damn, and that’s on a good day.

Global thinking is far too much. We’d all be much better off if we merely focused on who and what are right here. Hell, most days I can barely focus on myself. You want me to add seven billion people to that list? Get fucked.

Love the people who love you. Ignore everyone else. It’s not selfish—it’s survival