You are in a very high room that is slowly filling with water. There is a door near to the bottom of the room, but that has already been covered with the rising water. High up on one wall is a spout from which the water is pouring, and next to that spout is a lever marked “OFF – ON”. There is a set of metal steps attached to the wall leading up to the lever, and at the top of those steps is another door.
On the other side of the room, above the level of the water spout, is a set of breathing apparatus. Attached to the breathing apparatus is a large, clear plastic bag of money. Both the lever and the breathing apparatus look in good condition. You can also see a large plug at the bottom of the room with a chain attached. There are no steps leading up to the breathing apparatus and money, but the water is warm and you are able to float for as long as you like.
Now, here’s the question: Do you climb the steps, turn the water off and leave, or do you wait until the water is high enough to reach the breathing apparatus, so you can swim down to the plug and empty the water out?
Let’s suppose you choose to climb the steps: you climb up, pull the lever down — it’s not easy, but eventually the water comes to a stop and even if you are trapped elsewhere in the building, should the walls of the room fail, not too much damage will be done. The door is a bit of a struggle, having not been used for a long time, but you are able to open it and escape through a maze of corridors and into the open air.
Well done!
Now, let’s suppose you are keen on that bag of money. You cannot pull the plug out because if you do then the water will stop rising and you won’t be able to reach the money, but you are pretty sure you can do it. After a few minutes the water has nearly risen to the top of the room, and you are getting a little tired — it’s not easy to tread water for a long time. Eventually you are high enough to reach the breathing apparatus, which you sensibly put on straight away. You also have the money, which is in very large denominations: you will be a very rich person when you get out.
Swimming to the bottom of the room is nice and easy with the extra weight of the gas bottles, and you reach the plug, which you yank hard. It comes out with a plop and a few air bubbles ascend from the hole to the top of the water. You smile, holding onto your money bag tightly. Hmm, there don’t seem to be as many bubbles as you would like. You swim, with some effort, towards the top of the room, but can barely put your head above the surface because the water has nearly reached the ceiling, and it is still rising. After a few seconds the water touches the ceiling, and keeps pushing upwards through a few cracks in the stonework.
You start to panic, but then remember that there is a door at the bottom. Quickly swimming downwards, you reach the door and pull with all your might. It doesn’t budge – the huge pressure of the water is keeping it shut tight, and there is no way you will be able to shift it. You check the gauge on your air intake and find it is down to half: was it full when you put it on? You are not sure. It’s ok, there is another door further up the room; you climb up the metal steps as quickly as you can, reaching the door as your gauge shows you only have a third of your air remaining. You pull the door hard, but can’t get enough purchase standing on the top of the narrow steps, with the water pressing on your exit. You pull and pull, harder and harder, but nothing moves!
Thnking quickly, you grab the lever and pull it down: the trickling noise abruptly stops. You have to be calm and wait. You don’t have the energy nor the desire to pick up the money that you left at the bottom of the room any more; you just want to live. So you wait, as the gauge tips towards “Empty”, and your breathing becomes shallow…
We have a simple choice if we are to survive the future: we can either try and build our way out of the problem, pretending that technological fixes will compensate for the voracious, unsustainable consumer culture that has led us to the brink of catastrophe; or we can reject this way of life, and take a different path — helping to shut down the machine as we leave.
Only one way will work.
Keith Farnish
