Hello!
Indeed, I’ve changed the name of this newsletter. While it will forever and always be “three things with Andy,” those three things will now land within THE MELT, with a tailored focus on our current (debatable) epoch, the Anthropocene.
You’ll still get near-daily (if you’re a paid subscriber) dispatches focusing on tech, climate, work, science, and lifestyle, now with just a bit more global context. It’s going to be great.
I’m excited! And I hope you are too!
This is THE MELT.
Humbly,
1) Welcome to the Anthropocene
What is the Anthropocene? At it’s simplest, the Anthropocene is the current geological age during which human activity has been the dominant influence on climate and the environment.
Now, technically, according to the International Union of Geological Sciences (IUGS), the professional organization in charge of defining Earth’s time scale, we are in the Holocene epoch, which began 11,700 years ago after the last major ice age.
The term “Anthropocene” was popularized in 2000 by atmospheric chemist and Nobel laureate Paul Crutzen and has since become a buzzword in the scientific and research communities, spawning all sorts of articles and media. And it hasn’t officially been agreed and determined that we are now in the Anthropocene.
In May, 2019, a panel of 34 scientists — the Anthropocene Working Group (AWG) — voted with 29 members voting “yes” and four members voting “no” on two succinct questions:
Should the Anthropocene be treated as a formal chrono-stratigraphic unit defined by a GSSP?
Should the primary guide for the base of the Anthropocene be one of the stratigraphic signals around the mid-twentieth century of the Common Era?
Now, the panel plans to submit a formal proposal for the new epoch by 2021 to the International Commission on Stratigraphy, which oversees the official geologic time chart.
While we’re still technically in the Holocene epoch, which corresponds directly to the growth of the human species, the main difference between the Holocene and the proposed Anthropocene epochs is that the former ends and the latter begins when humans became “the dominant influence on climate and the environment.”
The AWG argues that this shift happened in the mid-twentieth century, with a rapidly rising human population, accelerated industrial production, agricultural chemicals, and the first atomic bomb blasts. Those bomb blasts are the basis for evidence of our new epoch as scientists argue that the radioactive debris that littered the globe is now embedded in the sediments and glacial ice and part of the geological record that traditionally defines these epochs and eras.
The four dissenting AWG members objected to the group’s efforts to prove a single clear signal (e.g., radioactive debris) that can be found globally in the geological record. Others say that global warming is proof positive that humans are “the dominant influence on climate and the environment.”
For me, there’s no question. Welcome to the Anthropocene.
2) Chicken Math
We all know that factory farming is terrible. And when Nicky Kristof says it, well, then there’s absolutely no denying it. Maybe you’re already an Upton Sinclair fan. Or maybe you get your chickens from Brooklyn’s Meat Hook who sources them from Cascun Farm, 125 acres of rolling pasture in upstate New York. Or maybe you’re a goddamn vegetarian and for that, I salute you.
I am not a vegetarian. As matter of fact, only recently have I incorporated meatless days into my diet and routine. Hey— it’s a start, right?
What other options to folks like you and me — folks who eat chickens and eggs — have beyond factory farming or community-supported agriculture? I suppose we could raise our own chickens? But does that make sense? I mean, what’s the math on that?
Ok, so, the average American eats almost 300 eggs and nearly 94 pounds of chicken meat per year. A homegrown chicken lays at most about 250 eggs in its first year but that level of production decreases with age. Basically, you need at least one chicken per household member to properly supply everyone with eggs.
And growing chickens for meat is an entirely different operation. At three to five pounds of meat per live bird, an average household would need about 30 birds per family member to provide a year’s worth of chicken meat. Sure, you could slaughter your chickens when they stop laying eggs but it seems that the best egg-laying chicken breeds are not the same as the best chicken breeds for meat.
So, for a family of three, you need: no less than 63 chickens to provide meat and eggs for a year. And how much does it cost to raise and nurture those chickens? Well, it depends. Are you building your own coop? Where are you sourcing your feed? Are you buying top-notch, mature chickens or dirt cheap chicks? With the baby chicks, you’ll be waiting about six months for eggs.
Via BackyardChickens.com, here’s some general chicken math for three hens:
Chickens: $3 - $30 per chicken depending on age, breed
Coop: Free (recycled materials) to $2,000 & up (new & fancy). Average is usually around $500.
Feed approximately $15/month.
Miscellaneous $10/month.
So, for our three-person family with 63 chickens, we’re looking at an annual spend of around… $6,000. And that doesn’t account for any losses, tragedies, or escapes.
Now, I suppose the final question here is… is it worth it to spend $500/month to raise your own egg and meat chickens?
What if I told you it would save the world? I mean, not entirely, but kind of? You see, greenhouse gas emissions for poultry farming are pretty gnarly. Producing 50 grams of eggs or chicken meat generates between 2 and 3 kilograms of CO2. And while the largest source of greenhouse gas emissions in the US is from burning fossil fuels for electricity, heat, and transportation, agriculture accounted for 10% of all greenhouse gas emissions in the US in 2018.
There isn’t a ton of research comparing “backyard” poultry farming with factory farming, but it’s safe to say, yes, your 60-something backyard chicken operation is producing less CO2 than that poultry factory. One study found that “barnyard” production methods in Australia generated roughly one-third the carbon footprint of the average commercial egg.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter in the end. We love our chickens! We’ll probably keep farming chickens long after climate change and global warming has our damn chickens laying hard-boiled eggs. And only 6% of Americans prefer having their eggs hard-boiled, so that’s a bummer. That’s a bummer, man.
3) Wearable Air Con
To be completely honest, I once thought that by 2020 we’d have pills to cool or heat your body, bracelets that would lower your rapid heartbeat, and eyeglasses that would alert you if someone you were talking with was lying to you.
Instead, we have widespread social injustice, a global pandemic, and calamitous climate change. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But I suppose, air-condition built into your clothes helps with at least one of those problems? Meet the Sony Reon Pocket. This little device can reportedly reduce a wearer’s body temperature by as much as 23 degrees Fahrenheit or heat the body by as much as 14 degrees Fahrenheit, and there’s a great little video to demonstrate. Of course, it’s operated through an app and can run for up to four hours without recharging.
Initially planned for release during the Summer Olympics, the Sony Reon Pocket is now available. And I’m happy to write a thorough review with donated, sponsored product. Or whatever, maybe you wanna just buy me a book off my Amazon wish list?