Security Is Xed Out

security  n. 1. Freedom from risk or danger; safety

The concept of Security is Xed out every day of our lives. Sometimes in small ways. Sometimes in large.

A young man and young woman save their money and train their bodies. They make the trip to Nepal to scale the highest mountain on Earth. Each of their flights lands safely – no bombs, no terrorists. Their transport to Base Camp arrives safely. The change in altitude causes discomfort, but they adjust.

They consider the dangers. They know they might have to cancel their plans to summit the mountain due to sudden changes in weather, striking Sherpas, or a host of other obstacles both natural and manmade. They take what precautions they can and make contingency plans. They know this trip is anything but safe. They go anyway. That is part of the adventure.

We are at risk from natural phenomena – tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunamis, blizzards, wild fires. The list is long. Some things are predictable and we can take precautions to protect ourselves and our property or be prepared to recover, repair, and replace.

When children go to school, we expect them to be safe. A bus ride to the casinos in the mountains or to a church camp or home from a music competition. These are all expected to be safe. Attending a midnight showing in a movie theater should be safe. Working in a post office or office building, shopping in a convenience store or drug store, and filling our car’s gas tank should be safe. Driving on a modern highway in a well-maintained automobile should be safe. And most of the time safety comes through for them and for us.

Sometime in my childhood I learned to mistrust the concept of security. For many years I sought a religion that could replace that lost security. I found lots of reassuring stories and scary stories. I found generous people who professed belief and intolerant people who demanded belief. There were beautiful costumes and simple, grand buildings and austere, and all kinds of music. But no security.

Then somewhere along the line, I discovered that a sense of security is not necessary for me. It is exhilarating to explore life and love people free of the need for a secure future. It’s part of the adventure.

Longitude -- a review



In this day and age with our GPS and our smart phones and our Google Maps, it's hard to imagine a time when the world was being explored and travelled by people who literally didn't know where they were and had no dependable way to find out.

Longitude is well-written and follows a straight-forward path from need to discovery and implementation. Why longitude? Because in the middle of the ocean without knowing what your longitude is, you were lost. And being lost most likely meant death. You could misjudge the nearness of land and like Admiral Sir Clowdisley Shovell who, on a foggy night in October of 1707, ran his flag ship and three more of his five warships aground on the Scilly Isles, "dooming almost two thousand" of his troops. Or too often a captain misjudged the distance and the direction of land and "missed his mark -- searching in vain for the island where he had hoped to find fresh water, or even the continent."

They knew about longitude, but could not track it at sea. Latitude could be deduced "by the length of the day or by the height of the sun or known guide stars above the horizon." Longitude does not lend itself to these easily recognized and readily available markers. Scientists and mathematicians devised methods to tell where a ship was in relation to its longitude. Their methods like them reflected deep thinking and cumbersome equations, not easily implemented by the general sailing public. Nor were their equations all that dependable when a navigator was able to follow the instructions.

What they needed was a reliable clock. And this is the story of the self-educated English common man who developed just such a clock. For want of just such an instrument, countless lives and fortunes were lost.

The story of John Harrison's development of a clock that would keep time dependably during the rough and tumble of a sea voyage is a cautionary tale for those societies that  circumscribe their people's talents based on class. Or, though not applied in this clockmaker's case, based on race or religion or gender or sexual orientation or any other arbitrary measure of a human's value.