From an ION Paper Pad: Reflections post-Day 60

From an ION paper pad:

“Day 52

My time in the city of endless day is coming to a close. Tomorrow, I will be leaving Alaska for my journey home.

It’s really hard to answer the question of “what have you learned this summer?” from parents, family, and friends. I could give a endless retell of my days here in response to “what did you do this summer?”- but the word “learned” is always weighty. 

In the scientific arena: the cryosphere; arctic technology; alternative energy; extractive energy (methane gas hydrates and natural gas from coal seams), etc. 

In the skillset arena: I know how to “make use” of meetings and events. How to follow-up on a good brainstorm? Actionable items. Could learn this in business school, but workplace taught me this summer. 

In the other stuff arena: native issues, rural economy of scale issues, how different workplace structures work, how to create and sustain a network, different network structures, how to make funds grow. The idea of the pristine, again."

Frankly, I have only a vague recollection of sitting at work on my last day and jotting all of that down. What I remember of my last two weeks in Alaska consists mostly of watching Harry Potter twice, trying the amazing Ahi at Bear’s Tooth with Ali and Michael, and having a juicy, glazed chicken breast at the Spinnard Road House, doused with asparagus and saffron. I also vividly remember the halibut cheeks and oysters- the backdrop of me getting to know Ali’s family. It seems like a lot of what I remember about Alaska was food. This may be because food adventures and on-foot adventures were my main experimental outlets. Right now, I am an hour away from breaking my fast (I am fasting the month of Ramadan), and my food adventures seem to be the more tantalizing choice to reflect on.

There was also, of course, fabulous weather, sitting in the back porch- colors were vivid. I distinctly remember trying to take a picture, and being disappointed that it didn’t show up the way I thought it looked. This might be attributed to bad photography, but I decided to put my phone down and sat there looking for a long time. This was the same reason I could not blog every day. Between work and Alaskan adventures, there would have been plenty to fill a daily entry.  I was worried that over-sharing would mean under-living

I remember asking Ali, Merlin, and Henry “If someone sailed to the horizon in front of us, would they hit a sky-colored wall?”

I watched The Truman Show as a child, and that scene stuck with me the most. I know that what I valued most about Alaska was its complete embrace of the un-superficial. In Bahrain, people do embrace and indulge, but it is mostly in the superficial. I am not immune from over-indulging in the constructed, but I have been very convinced of setting minimalism as a ground-rule for life. Minimalism in material goods, but also in speech, plans, food, and activities. Minimalism especially in the amount of resources we put into the creation of anything. This must not be confused with laziness, because by minimalism I mean “doing something well with the least amount of resources”, I don’t mean heavily compromise on your quality of life, education, and food.

After my summer in Alaska, I think I have a stronger vision for what I want my career to be. I want to be part of an institution that has clearly grounded values like ION. That way, no matter what projects I end up working on, they will echo the values I would like to live by. ION showed me the importance of applicability, and granted me a strong affinity to the actual applicability of issues. While most of the topics had a scientific background, the issues were relevant to projects going on in the Senator’s office, in the community, and the Obama administration. This meant acquiring a comfort and know-how with everything related to environmental engineering and policy in Alaska. I told my father that I wasn’t sure if my ION experience narrowed what kind of job I wanted, but it made me more interested and more knowledgeable in how environmental engineering impacts the real world- how design can go from increasing functionality to changing social norms and demographic tensions. I knew what he would say. He's told me before: “don’t get a job, make a career, be an expert in a certain field, work on your inner  ثقافة and mental richness. Be an expert”. I agree with him. I don’t want “Economics and Environmental Engineering” to be a branding I give myself; I want it to be a foundation for a career in the real-life applicability of resources, design, and human behavior. 

Alaska and ION have both given me a lot. I will take the ideals of subsistence and minimalism with me, and the skills of resource and urban development. That being said, I will probably live most of my life in a place where life moves a little bit faster, and is a little bit more artificial (it’s hard to find many places as un-artifical as Alaska). But, I will miss smiling strangers on the street, and my neighbor’s daily tea and coffee set up outside his home for the neighborhood. Perhaps many areas of the world just need an alternative design for their resource usage, and then we'll have more smiling, communal-living neighbors.

Day 45

In the past week, I have mainly been focused on workplace adventures. Or as most would call it, work. With a few colleagues, I visited the BP Energy Center, where the First Alaskan Institute was organizing a summer internship program. With a group of around 30 interns, we discussed the relationship between being a good citizen and a good leader on the state, national, and tribal level. This included resource and public service responsibility.

Most of my work this week has been towards the Arctic Energy Network (AEN). The proposal is almost done, and I have now chosen groups to contact as initial members. I am also concurrently updating ION's contact database, which includes a lot of information compilation. This requires me to do a lot of things with excel that I did not know I did not know. My PowerPoint skills have always been good, but are also getting a good workout.

My research on Renewable Energy Fund has now entered the stage of surveying, calling, and reaching contacts in company database. The main things to consider when reaching out to contacts is reaching representatives of all levels of the energy sector. This includes the private, industrial sector, governmental institutions- on both a local and national level, academic institutions, tribal/native institutions, and international organizations that manage and set energy standards. Feedback from these different categories would be reflective of how funding is distributed when it comes to energy grants.

Tomorrow night, I am going with a few of my coworkers, and Ali, to see the final installment of Harry Potter. I cannot wait.

Day 37

Last week, I went to Seward for the weekend in an RV. My preconception of RVs as inconvenient and uncomfortable vehicles was quickly debunked; I started to view the cozy space as “home” for its three days of shelter. The drive to Seward was generous in visuals and fresh air, full with a drive along the Alaskan Range (the same route I described earlier to Girdwood), followed by lakes brimming with lily pads.

In Seward, the highly recommended Sea Life Center did not disappoint. I saw a variety of sea animals and birds. The most impressive were the sea lions. Utterly huge, but unbelievably graceful when they swim. They also have very cute bear-like faces, which make them look like they are smiling the whole time. The use of their lower body made them seem like giant mermen. The biggest one sat in an almost cross-legged-like position at some point, before making a giant, splattering dive.

Seward Sea Life Center. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

Next came kayaking in the Kenai Fjords. I want to do this again. I set out for a three hour trip across deep waters, but not too far from the coast. Unlike tourist kayaking from resorts in Jamaica, these were intricate kayaks, with storage units and directional navigation. Since the water is pretty cold, I also had to suit up in water-proof garb. We kayaked in a group, using a low, but wide stroke, as instructed. We were also instructed to focus on the usage of our core abdominal muscles rather than our arm muscles, since the latter tire much faster. After over an hour of kayaking, which revealed endless slopes on both sides of the clear water, and trees with bald eagles, we unloaded on a shale-like coast. A short hike revealed a small waterfall before we made our return. This time, we saw several sea lions. A small one approached one of the kayaks next to me, and tried to climb on very casually.

Beginning of the Two Lakes Trail, Seward. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

There were several short hikes to do in Seward, and we walked a couple of the routes. The Two Lakes route revealed two clear lakes, in the middle of dense trees and vegetation. I decided that this was what Christopher Pike meant when he tried to describe a lake and a forest clearing simultaneously. It gave my inner middle-school-Christopher-Pike-reading self a great satisfaction and serenity to look at the setting of what I had imagined to be countless resurrections and moments of protagonist solitude.

Lake surrounded by trees, Two Lakes Trail. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

We also hiked to the Exit Glacier, which was my first time to see a glacier. The ice mountain was a great sight to see, with swirls of perfect blue and gray in it. The next step would have been to go glacier hiking, but that required many sharp tools and a little bit more expertise than any of us had.

Exit Glacier. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

Touching Glacier water, Seward. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

At work, the past week included collaboration with the International Fellows program and a board meeting at ION. I spent most of my week working on the Arctic Energy Network (AEN), which should be ready to launch in a few weeks. Meeting the international Fellows was part of a collaborative effort between ION and Mara Kimmel, a professor of Political Science at the University of Alaska, to bring in international professionals working on Arctic issues. The Fellows were from all over Europe, and worked in different fields. From discussions with most of them, a few of them worked on refugee resettlement, socialist resource management, journalism, and overseas political representation. Our first meeting was with Mead Treadwell (my host), who discussed the direction of the Governor’s office with regards to Alaska’s environmental resource management. During that meeting, it struck me how big the Arctic was. Everything that the Arctic does successfully in terms of environmental management could be implemented in other zones around the world, which span over a much smaller area.

We also met with Dr. Dalee Sambo Dorough, who specializes in human rights law and public international law. The discussion was mainly focused on the political and legal relations between nation-states and Aboriginal peoples. She also gave a good briefing on Alaska Native self-determination, and how it plays into the development and evolution of international indigenous human rights standards. Although it is not directly part of my the AEN or the Energy Grant Funds I am working on while with ION, I have probably learned just as much about Alaska Native issues as I have about energy, Renewables, and the innovative design of funds and energy production.

Later on in the week, we had a board meeting with all the directors of the Institute. During the meeting, the board went over planned projects in detail, and then briefly reviewed budgets, and motions on inviting ex-officio members. Today, I accompanied Nils (my Managing Director at ION), to the Canadian Consulate. The Canadian Consulate here focuses on US-Canadian relations in an Arctic Arena, which includes Arctic Marine Collaboration and operational level engagements on environmental and resource management. Areas with shared marine resources benefit greatly from collaboration. At the meeting with the Consul, we specifically discussed a partnership between ION and the consulate for several upcoming projects within the next fiscal year. This comes after a change in the method of giving grants. Instead of a large, annual grant, to an institution, grants are now given to specific projects. This makes for much more efficient money use. While it increases efforts on the administrative side of things, it will ensure that the right amount of money is given to specific projects.

The Arctic Energy Network (AEN) is also in the final stages of touch-ups before we launch it to institutions. With the proposal ready, and a membership structure drawn out clearly, all we need is a review before we work on membership recruitment. The proposal is reflective of my time and work here.

4th of July kite flying, Anchorage. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

On the leisurely side of my past days, I tried Snow Goose on Third Avenue. I pass by it every day on my way to work, and always admired its open deck. It has an astounding amount of open space. It was a rare sunny day in Anchorage, and the open deck made for a great lunch break. Over the weekend, I visited the Saturday Market once more, and vowed to take bags of flavored almonds from Alaska Nuts and Honey with me before going home. They come in dozens of flavors. My absolute favorites are the zesty mandarin and lemon coatings, and the more low-profile but bean-y mocha flavor. The mocha coating, especially, is very subtle and does not overshadow the almond taste. I also had the spiciest Thai food ever. It took stamina to finish my Tom Yum, but my sinuses were very clear post-delicious struggle. For the 4^th of July, Ali and I checked out the local festivities. Downtown had a carnival-like set-up with a booth for almost everything; kite-flying, eagles on display, kettle corn, chili contests, a big Statue of Liberty blow-up, a recitation of the Declaration of Independence, and other things that make Americans happy. Sunny and clear at first, a breezy drizzle started around the afternoon.

Day 25

My week started with the Olafur Ragnar Grimsson, the President of Iceland. At the Alaska World Affairs Council, he spoke powerfully on what the financial crisis teaches us about the importance of relying on sustainable Renewables, rather than the financial sector. He said that an economy based on resources is seen by most as an “old economy”. Financial sector growth has been the pillar of almost all booming economies in the past decades, and for that reason, countries continue to expand their financial sector. If the financial crisis taught us anything, he said, it should be independence from a sector that is hyper-inflated by speculation. A “future economy”, in that sense, would be one that is reliant on a growing human resource base and the expansion of real, un-speculative sectors. This “future economy” idea stuck with me, mostly when President Ragnar said “Countries world-wide need to stop trying to be Wallstreet”, and that the financial sector should not be used as a matching formula to promote the economic growth of countries. Realistically, though, reliance on speculative financial activities seems to be the fastest, easiest way to grow for budding economies. Right? Perhaps. But, it is the fastest way to grow, not develop, and is thus limiting.

He also talked about how a big financial sector, even if it is successful, will hinder the development of innovative, technological sectors. I think that this is partially true when it comes to allocating funding and capital. More importantly, however, is that financial institutions within finance-reliant countries actually seek out the best engineers, software designers, and high-tech innovators. These innovators also seek out financial institutions because they are the most profitable lines of business. I had elaborated this point in an earlier post, but it is worth mentioning again that inventive industries need to be more rewarded within communities as an incentive for engineers and innovators.

Post-financial crisis, Iceland gradually recovered by investing in clean energy and the IT sector. In general, Iceland’s renewable energy record is more than apt. I didn’t believe that stats at the talk. Checking them online later confirmed that, indeed, 66% of Iceland’s primary energy supply comes from local geothermal energy, 15% from hydropower, and only 19% from fossil fuels. Electricity production is powered by 100% renewable energy (70% hydropower, and 30% geothermal power)! Sorry for the inundation of numbers, but wow.

And then, there’s this: http://www.iea.org/stats/pdf_graphs/BHELEC.pdf

The International Energy report (from 2010).
100% of Bahrain’s electricity generation is by fuel. I am glad we don’t have any purple (coal) on that graph, but blue, yellow, and red, are yet to even show a slight tint.

Meeting with President Grimsson at ION

Tuesday afternoon, President Grimsson came into the office for a meeting. I liked him, and thought that he was a modest, intelligent man. It made me smile to see a president with a schedule brimming with actual work, who gave forth specific tasks and plans- specifying his involvement in them. For some reason, I’ve always had this image of high-ranking government officials holding nominal, gestural meetings, rather than actually doing anything prolific. During the meeting, we discussed how Alaska could develop its geothermal energy use and the involvement of locals in the development of resources. We also discussed the passing on of ownership obligations to the next generation. President Grimsson seemed to strongly believe that inter-generational drastic change was achievable. I think this is because he is the president of Iceland, a country that shifted from fossil fuel to green energy dependence within a generation. He also has a lot of respect and admiration for Walter J. Hickel (the founder of the Institute of the North). Hickel’s approach emphasized the management of the “commons” by the commons. Unfortunately, this worldview has been marginalized in Alaska for a more laissez-faire, capitalistic model. We debated in the meeting whether these two models necessarily contradict one another, but one thing was for certain- they are two completely different models. There are plans in the works to create a movie about Hickel’s worldview. Steven Spielberg and George Clooney are on the list for possible contributors.

On Tuesday, I shifted gears- from brain to muscle. At 9pm, I began my ascent up Flat Top Mountain. Flat top is the most hiked mountain in Anchorage. There IS a route that is considered fairly feasible by most people. The route we took however, had only a few other people on it. Many of my coworkers laughed when I told them which route we had chosen for the hike, asking me if I knew that there was a route dubbed “fairly feasible” that I decided not to take. Although I had been warned that it was very, very steep, I was up for the challenge. I put on my extra-grip, North Face, lightweight hiking boots, I started my incline. At some points, I found myself wondering how this was considered just an “incline”, and not just a straight-up vertical hill slope. It took a lot of muscle work. Quads, lower back, upper back, shins, the Glutes- you name it. At some points I was on all fours, using my anterior core muscles for stability. We would stop every 15 minutes or so to get a glimpse of the view below, but after a while our elevation made me light-headed. It might be my desert-born nature, but every time I would look down I would feel a sharp tingling from my stomach to my head. My heart would race. I would have to grip onto the inclining ground harder. The sharp inclination meant every 15 minutes of distance gain was also a large height gain.

Ali, Flat Top Mountain

View from Flat Top Mountain

Almost sunset. Flat Top Moutain

Flat Top Mountain

Sunset on Solstice Day, Flat Top Mountain

Very cold. Flat Top Mountain

Moment on the edge, Flat Top Mountain

At around 11pm, I reached the top, and it was almost an hour until sunset. We sat around, sang songs on a guitar, and huddled in the chilly zephyr. The view was absolutely breathtaking. I do not want to describe it for fear of my inability to convey it truly. All I can say is that it was very green, high, and surrounded by other mountains. You could also very easily stand on the edge of a cliff. I did that, looked down, my altophobia was off the charts. One of my hiking mates was trying to ask me who else in my family was altophobic, since it is known to be mainly hereditary. I was too stupefied to tell him that pretty much all five of us hyper-ventilated on family ascents up the Eiffel Tower, the Empire State building, and the Sagrada Família. I went back to the middle of the flat top, and tried to think of the highest altitude drop I encounter in Bahrain. The only thing I could think of was the road going down when coming from البديع to مدينة حمد.

The sun set at around 11.45 pm, ending the longest day of the year. We began our hike downwards past midnight. If the ascent was rock-climbing, the descent was trying really hard not to roll all the way down the steep incline. I decided to try to keep my balance by embracing the momentum but still controlling my descent with my core. I found that I had much preferred the ascent, which was much more muscle-intensive, but did not give me the vista of the steepness below. I must say that the descent makes you feel quite adventurous and free. I was smirking as I landed on the flat earth.

Post- sunset. Flat Top Mountain

Project-wise, both my AEN and Renewable Energy Grant Fund projects are progressing well and on track. Yesterday, I went to a presentation held by Commonwealth North (another institution founded by Walter J. Hickel) on alternative energy for rural Alaska.

On the taste bud arena, I had the best calamari (in the world, yes) and ahi (yellowfin tuna) at the Glacier Brewhouse. They were both juicy and utterly fresh tasting. I always thought calamari was made to be crunchy, but this was just undeniably delicious, succulent bursts of savory tenderness.

Day 20

In the past week, I’ve tried elk, a lot of cheese, birch syrup, and Alaskan honey. This mostly happened at the Saturday market. The elk tasted like reindeer, and the birch syrup tasted exactly like the date syrup we put on لقيمات in Ramadan. 

I attended a daylong research workshop on cryosphere issues. The crysophere is the part of the earth that is icy, this includes river ice, snow, glaciers, ice sheets, permafrost, etc. The workshop consisted of cryosphere specialists presenting their research, and then working on cyrosphere sustainability issues. Most of the main takeaways I had from the day were scientific, but it was clear that information and research sharing was a big hindrance in the development of the field. There were 80 cryosphere specialists in the conference hall. My gut feeling tells me the world doesn’t have a whole lot of them. Nevertheless, many of them did not have access to each other’s research, to university archives, and to proper data. Since all three of these exist, there seemed to be a tremendous problem of communication, access, and sharing. When it comes to such wide-scale, long-term, environmental projects, data sharing is crucial. These are not specific technologies that need to be patented; it is an emerging field of research where specialists need as much information as they can. Plans to increase cohesiveness and accessibility of research and data soon took centerfield in the workshop. 

Another work-related experience came with a shaking of my building one afternoon. I thought my low blood pressure was kicking in, and I was ready to close my eyes to get through the dizziness. But, my tea was shaking. I sat at my desk for 10 seconds. I was certain my table was shaking too. My boss came out a minute later with a smile and said, “These earthquakes… they always make me feel funny”. Sophie, an intern at my office from Stanford who lives in Alaska, giggled. I caught on pretty quickly that these 15-second shakes were common here. I just wish I knew I was experiencing my first earthquake. It would’ve upped my excitement and lessened my confusion. I am on the lookout for the next one. According to the Earthquake Hazard Program, they happen on a daily basis, but some of them are not as strongly felt in all parts of Alaska.

See:

http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsus/Maps/special/Alaska.php

Post-earthquake, we had a meeting with Tom Case, the newly appointed Chancellor of the University of Alaska. He is a soft-spoken man. The meeting took place amidst classical music, and a large collection of native artwork. When he asked me where I was from, I said “Bahrain”, and he smiled calmly and said, “I’ve spent some time there”. He is a retired 3-star Air Force Lt. General, who headed the Alaska Aerospace Corporation, but has maintained positions at universities in the past two decades. We talked about synergies between the Institute of the North and the University and the creation of joint ventures. 

Saturday Market. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

Saturday Market. Courtesy of Ali Vivinetto.

Over the weekend, I went to the Solstice Festival. Activities included canoeing (set up in the middle of the road in a giant pool), racing, native dancing, and other carnival-like happenings. I also went to the Saturday market, again, where I touched the softest, finest fabric. The fabric was made of fine Qiveut (pronounced kiv-eee-ut) fiber, which is taken from an Alaskan Musk Ox. In the booth, photos of the Musk Ox revealed a giant buffalo physique. The fiber is very complicated when it comes to handling, and the Musk Ox is rare to find. It was strange to be touching something so soft that came from something so gigantic and not soft looking. 

Today, I watched Grizzly man. It follows the adventures of bear enthusiast Timothy Treadwell. I think the documentary is meant to be inspiring, but I was deeply disturbed by it. Timothy Treadwell spent 13 summers in the wilderness of Alaska with bears. He strongly believed that he was one with the bears, that they trusted him. He also found their way of life more fascinating and simpler than that of human beings. I think what stuck with me the most was the real footage. It was clear that over the years he went from curious, to staunchly believing that he was supposed to be with the bears until his end. After 13 years, he was eaten by a bear that he had been accustomed to being around. The documentary emphasizes the eating, with multiple descriptions of how it happened. In the real footage, Timothy Treadwell saw the bears as loving, magnificent creatures. He would cry several times, and tell them that he loved them. He would also say that he would die for them and for their wilderness. The incident is clearly ironic, but from a straight-forward ecosystem narrative, it is the simplest concept. Timothy Treadwell would cry and cuss when he would see how the bears ate their own during times of need. This humanizing of animals is not necessarily loving them in their wilderness, but searching for a stereotypical harmony. I think this harmony exists on a more macroscopic level of an ecosystem, rather than in the individual actions of animals in the wilderness, as they need to prey in order to sustain themselves. Depending on what kind of environmentalist you are, you might not see preying as the most harmonic processes of wilderness. His life was superb, but after watching the real footage, I do not think he would have necessarily thought of it as tragic.

Day 14

My taste bud adventures in the past few days feature reindeer, which was surprisingly very good- tender and salty, halibut, and Canadian poutine. The halibut was yummy and mild as a fish, and the poutine is French fries with gravy and cheese, which is, by definition, superb. I have also discovered Kumagoro with Ali, a great sushi place on 4th Avenue, which I envision will be a loving life partner during my time in Anchorage. Ali agrees.

On Thursday, I attended a documentary screening held by the local Refugee Assistance & Immigration Services. There,  I watched a series of documentaries on refugees. The first was on Burma, the second on Uganda, and the third took place in Shelbyville, Tennessee. It was quite an emotionally taxing screening, and I learned things I didn’t know about all three areas and their demographics. This induced a 2-hour Wikipedia session on the refugee situation in each of the areas.

Park by N Street

One of my neighbors right across the street has a table with coffee and tea on it. I always assumed it was leftovers from a daily tea party. I was told that the house puts out the coffee and tea for the neighborhood. Tentative at first, I tried a coffee labeled "Kaladi". Kaladi has a very strong coffee-bean texture, and it has become a great companion to my walk to work every morning. I usually have to make sure it’s almost done before I ascend on the steep inclination next to the community park on the way up from N street.

At the Institute, I have been working on several projects. Mainly, I am working on the creation of an Arctic Energy Network (AEN). AEN will be a network encompassing all environmental institutions, government agencies, and energy corporations of the Arctic. By Arctic I mean the Arctic Circle, which is a circle of latitude encompassing the northernmost countries in the world (which, if I am not mistaken, are eight). The goal of such a network is to create a forum that brings these organizations of the Arctic together for workshops, policy tours, research opportunities, peer research exchanges, and eventually maybe even policy advocacy. With time and funding, this seems possible. However, the hindrance in this feat comes in finding the delicate balance between these institutions’ common interests while still preserving their differing environmental policy stances. This would be analogous to creating a GCC environmental forum, which holds workshops, collaborates on research, and puts forth environmental policies that could be lobbied for. Without a political stance, the network serves as a ground for debate and possible policy suggestions.

Another project I have started working on is the creation and maintenance of a renewable energy grant fund. I attended a meeting with the Alaskan senator's staff, where they discussed the local Renewable Energy Grant Fund. The main problem with this fund seems to be that it is only dependent on money given to the fund. There is no return on the money in the fund, as it is not invested (like endowment money). I am curious to look more deeply into how the grant fund is set up, as it doesn’t really make sense for such large amounts of money to just be sitting there until they are granted. During the meeting, I was assigned to develop a potential model of how to design this Renewable Energy Grant Fund. I will be looking at the methods of financing that other jurisdictions worldwide use to fund renewable energy research and engineering.

Another re-occurring topic I have been dealing with is the lack of Life Cycle Cost (LCC) analysis. It might be pretty surprising to think that countries don’t actually run LCC analysis when thinking of future energy-intensive projects, but many don’t. Or, at least do not think long-term enough. Currently in Alaska, there are several solar/hydro projects that are being put off because of initial capital costs. These initial capital costs look pretty daunting and giant when compared to the running costs of continuing fuel-based energy production. This “moment in time” analysis is obviously not the right way to look at projects, and to be honest I am surprised that those responsible for giving grants and those shaping policy adhere to such transient analysis.

There are a few things, however, that are pretty great about Alaska’s environmental policy and funding climate. The sheer amount of funds that exist here for people to innovate in the environmental field are incredible. Currently, there is an Emerging Energy Technology Fund, which is granted to advancement in energy creation that holds weighty technological prowess. There is also a movement to increasing the use of electric vehicles. Registration fees are waived with any electric car purchase. At the meeting with the Senator’s staff, we discussed electricity generation via solar energy panels to charge the cars. This sounds very idealistic in terms of costs and efficiency. But actually, for a state with not much sunlight during the year, solar energy works unexpectedly well in Alaska. Using photovoltaic cells to capture heat and decrease the fuel used in transportation could be revolutionary for any jurisdiction. In the long run, this would decrease oil dependence and fuel costs, and possibly allow for more Greenfield investments.

Ah, Greenfield investments. I cannot help but make the comparison with Bahrain. In general, say we wanted to use the money we make out of oil exports to grow economically. If we would like to use this revenue to grow sustainably, we should use it for domestic Greenfield investments (such as infrastructure enhancement), rather than simply wealth creation (such as luxury real estate activity, financial transactions in the stock market, etc). The investment in these energy development projects (which have a high initial capital cost but a possibly lower LCC) such as this solar-electric combo, develops our resource base and our maintainable capital. Nobody wants a resource-rich but capital-poor jurisdiction. As domestic human capital increases (say, with education reform, or more people pursuing graduate education), we must make sure our environmental/resource capital also expands. Even if this means a high initial cost for us.

Then, there is the coolest thing I’ve learned this week. If you’ve heard of X-Prize already, then you won’t be very impressed, but I was quite blown away. The X-Prize foundation tries to encourage innovation through competition for good-for-the-world initiatives. The concept is so simple. It reminds me of a little game my mother would engage my sisters and me in as children called بنتي الجميلة . Whoever brushes her teeth, fixes her part of the room, and falls asleep first wins. She is بنتها الجميلة. Well, in mother Earth’s rendition of this bedtime game, it’s whoever finds the best technology to clean up the BP oil spill, whoever comes up with the most feasible renewable energy scheme, or whoever discovers a breakthrough technology to stop the ice caps from slowly melting. To understand my analogy, mother Earth is X-prize. Or the Environment and Energy part of X-Prize (since the foundation focuses on other do-good sectors of life, like education and global development, exploration, and life sciences). Point is, instead of getting a good night kiss and being called بنتي الجميلة  for the night, you get millions of dollars to bring your engineered, working model, to world-saving scale. The ideas that don’t quite make the cut aren’t too shabby either, and usually end up being picked up and expanded. X-Prize is currently partnering with agencies in Alaska to give away 20 million dollars to the group, institution, or person that can come up with the best environmental engineering answer to “How do you stop a village from falling into the water?” which is a big concern in the Arctic (don’t mean to be a downer, but yes, the ice-caps are melting as you read this). Starting up competitive incentives for people to save the world might be a good way to nudge humanity and engineers into caring. Maybe this way, we will have more environmental, civil, and chemical engineers in the next ten years in economic systems that mostly reward those that go into the financial sectors. It would also be a good forefront for businesspeople, economists, and engineers to cooperate, to come up with feasibility plans and enter these competitions. Not to mention academics and researchers (who are quite under-recognized in jurisdictions that are expanding rapidly economically due to the financial sector) get to make it big and compete on the enactment of their research. 

With Sir Sheinwald

One last job-related thing. During my lunch break today, I hopped over to the Hilton, where the Alaska World Affairs Council is hosting a speaker every Friday. This week’s speaker was the British Ambassador to the United States, Sir Nigel Elton Sheinwald. Sir Sheinwald talked about the UK’s energy goals, collaboration with the US on these goals, and the similarities between Alaska and the UK. Sir Sheinwald has a sense of humor reminiscent of Hugh Grant in Love Actually, and sounds like him at times. In the evening, he was a guest at my host’s house. I asked him how renewable energy initiatives affect the economy in the short-run (because LCC analysis tells us that the long run is great). He told me that renewable energy initiatives would create a new sector. He said, anything that promotes job creation and is simultaneously innovative would be good in the short run. I would be happy to stand by this notion, as long as these renewable energy initiatives cater to the employment of people from all skill levels. The non-renewable energy sector employs a lot of low-skilled workers. The renewable energy sector will emerge on the tail of highly skilled labor that brings forth groundbreaking innovation. This will likely be in collaboration with individuals or organizations that have an existing large capital. It seems to me that it will be the low-skilled workers that will be left jobless as the world makes a shift to renewables. However, this shift seems to be quite slow, and my optimistic opinion is that low-skilled workers in the field will find a new niche in a renewable energy sector, preferably through an investment in their human capital.

On Saturday, Ali and I went to a Jazz festival downtown. It was an outdoorsy event with live Jazz, and it was great to see families come with their puppies and enjoy the live performances. We later went to the Saturday market. At night, we kicked back and watched The Proposal, which offered what seems to be a pretty accurate portrayal of Alaska (it is based in Sitka, Alaska).

Ali at the Saturday market.

Jazz Festival, downtown Anchorage.

Today, we drove up to Point MacKenzie. Looking out the window for an almost two hours, I couldn't help but see a forest with roads cutting through it. I was amazed at how intact and dense all the greenery was and how tall the trees were. Once the road turned from pavement to dirt, it was a bumpier ride, but a greener one. We visited a few baby moose, who are being raised on a farm and bottle-fed. The farm is part of an initiative to preserve the moose population, as these baby moose have lost their mothers at an age when they still needed care and milk. After that, we went up to a cabin, where we had a barbecue, and then rode four-wheelers through what seemed to be endless land. In Bahrain, we refer to these as buggies, and people ride them on the beaches and in the desert. Of course, I rode behind Ali at first. She asked me if I was sure I didn't want to try driving. We switched. I pressed down on the gas as hard as I could and went for a long stretch. It was fast, everything around me was a giant green blur. We were both laughing like maniacs.

Chopped a log of wood, right down the middle. Point MacKenzie.

Point MacKenzie

Point MacKenzie

Day 9

Five days ago, I woke up at 4am for a 6am flight from Anchorage to Kotzebue (or Qikiqtagruk).  Kotzebue is small, less than 4,000 people live in it. It is in Northwest of the state, and according to my telephone network I was officially roaming. I was in Kotzebue to attend a conference on issues concerning rural Alaska. After conference hours, I got to see a lot of rural Alaska. I sampled a few more foods- herring eggs, caribou meat, Muktuk (frozen whale skin and blubber) and Akutaq (also known as “Eskimo ice cream” which is a mix of sweet blueberries and whipped fat). “Whipped fat” as an ingredient isn’t the most encouraging, but Akutaq was actually my favorite of the foods sampled on the trip- it just tastes like candied blueberries. I also tried ptarmigan eggs, which tasted like normal eggs but with a more pasty yolk, and a very thin shell.

Footage by the Kotzebue shoreline, detached ice chunks drifting along,
Chris explaining the formation of black ice in the background.

Kotzebue shoreline.

En route to hillside, Kotzebue.

Walking back from hillside, clouds above, Kotzebue.

En route to hillside, Kotzebue.

Graveyard, on top of the hill, Kotzebue.

Rods injected into ground to release heat from
overlying structures and ensuring permafrost protection, Kotzebue.

Air carrier to Red Dog and Noatak.

From Kotzebue, I “got off the road system” and took a small plane to Red Dog Mine; a zinc mine that had an astounding level of commitment to environmental standards. It was very strange travelling in small plane. I usually find myself twisting my fingers and praying for smooth sailing whenever I’m on a plane. I start to envision the worst things possible and try to distract myself, but the only thoughts that come to mind are worse than the ones I tried to get rid off. Well, this happened a lot at first in this tiny plane (بدأت بقراءة الأدعية) . After a few trips on it throughout the day though, the trips were starting to become adrenalin-inducing in a good way.

There were several things I liked about Red Dog Mine. To start off, the machines were so big and so awesome. I got to see a lot of the machines and processes I encountered on paper in Water Quality Control at Yale. The first machine we saw was a giant grinding machine called a Semi-Autogenous Grinding (SAG) mill. It breaks the ores from big rocks to little pieces around the size of a nickel. I liked the SAG because it was ginormous. The mechanical flotation cells were not as ginormous but still pretty splendid. The stirring tanks had lots of air blowing into them, bubbling through giant amounts of slurry. This allows for the zinc to be collected at the top. The aerated zinc is scooped up and collected in bins as fluffy, aerated metal (which looks like a metallic bubble bath- very shiny). The zinc then goes through a filter press, which gives us the concentrate. I also went to their water treatment plant, and walked right above a very, very big settling tank.

Aside from the sheer size of everything, the mine’s environmental performance is top-notch. When I heard them speak of “land reclamation”, I stood on my toes, ready to have at least one criticism. But, they were talking about literally restoring the land to the way it was (pre-digging) after excavation. This was not the euphemism of “land reclamation” for sea burial that I was familiar with; they actually had plans of completely restoring one of the mine sites by 2031, with vegetation, ore mineral, and all. This whole activity also does not affect the water table level much, as permafrost in the ground doesn’t make for much of a water table. There were also rivers around the mine that are doing better post-mine activities. The only question that remains is whether a more prolific man-made world is better than the origin of the land, the Pristine. This is an ethical spiral that dug my brains out.

Glazed caribou shoulder blade, soot and water (India ink),
drawing by Walter Wilson, Noatak.

After the mine, the little plane took me to the rural village of Noatak (pronounced like "no attack"). Noatak is also only reached by air, as there are no roads to it. In Noatak, I met several locals at a community event, visited the local school, and saw native dancing. I asked a few people what they thought about the mine I had visited earlier, and how long they had been living in Noatak.

 Footage of native dancing, Noatak.

At the conference itself, dialogue started with acknowledging Alaskan native environmental history and discussing its progression. Colonial issues, racism, segregation, and power, were at the forefront of every conversation.

Wolf skull, Noatak.

Alaska’s economy is pretty unique (but I can think of a few other comparable places). It is heavily reliant on oil, it has high ethnic diversity, high unemployment, and no income taxes. Citizens receive grants from oil money occasionally, but the fruit of land utilization is not shared equitably. The discussions, for me, were mostly informational, but a lot of what I saw presented and discussed was thought provoking on a larger scale. For instance, if citizens receive, but do not give the government money, to what degree do they feel like they have a say in how state money is spent? I do think that contributing monetarily gives people more of a right to demand where their money is spent, and what their government does. Being thankful for what the Alaskan governing body gives you is one thing, knowing that this body is politically accountable to you- it is there to serve you, is another. But then, how do you introduce to the culture of taxation to people that have mostly been receiving, not giving, in their lifetimes?

Another thought I struggled with was the major difference between ‘equality’ and ‘equity’. I think I decided that ‘equality’ might have the connotation of “being the same”, which causes societies to try to converge, which may be uncomfortable if it requires relinquishing prized differences. Ensuring equity and dignity of life and choice is a better way to think of fairness.

Just a few more small thoughts…

On economies of scale- what is our ethical responsibility to invest in small populations where economies of scale do not exist? Does it make sense economically? Will economically superior groups force groups to urbanize or “catch-up” in order for them to survive? How do I not know a word for this concept? At the conference, a businessman stood up and said, “The ‘right thing to do’ does not always make sense”. Here, I am implying that our ethical responsibility is to invest in places where economies of scale do not exist, except I don’t know yet.

Sustainable development is a misnomer; any “development” should be, by definition, sustainable. This isn’t just semantics, it’s a pretty straight-forward ideology.

One more. Starting with a talk on demographics, carrying capacities, and changes in the land, I was reminded very much of “tipping points”- one of Professor Nordhaus’ favorite concepts. Everything about Alaska seems to be a tipping point. A tipping point is a certain, delicate equilibrium (X), where a big shock can drive us to a “good equilibrium” (Y) or a “bad equilibrium” (Z).  This categorizing of good and bad may in an environmental, social, or economic scope. When you are at Y or Z, it will take another big, giant shock to move you, and depending on which one a society has landed on, the effects can be either dire or great.  Now moving from tipping points, a Crimsonite (Harvard grad) discussed Hegelian cycles with me. He pulled out a napkin and drew a graph with a curve that looked like a slightly uncoiled spring- a successively loopy line. The proper name of this concept is something-geist, but I have forgotten it. He said that history moved in cycles, shaped by major episodes. These episodes are the result of collective action, belief, or goals. Every episode allows people to attain a communal spiritual freedom through their own actions. Each cycle contains struggle, decisions, collective action, and change. Each cycle changes the state of things to what the “ultimate ideal” during that cycle is. I think Hegel thought that every cycle would bring us closer to flawlessness as a human community. If I believe in Hegelian cycles then I will hope that this is true. It would be awfully cynical to believe otherwise. If human beings change with time, the eventual ideal world we envision during our cycle will be differently envisioned in the next cycle. If movement through every cycle is a just big pushes from tipping points, from X to Z to X to Y, then is just human being struggling in every generation for a consensus on their betterment. In the spirit of pure idealism, this means that if I raise my children to not see racism, they will only see positive categories and informational groupings. If I raise them to think that leadership is not a title, it is not a position, nor a display of power, they will learn that leadership is service to their people. If I make sure my children know that they belong to an ecosystem, they will learn that it does not belong to them. This will be one cycle, and I have no idea what my children will teach their children.