I recently read The Accidental Superpower, and thought I’d write a brief review, as many of the book’s points align with the purpose of this blog. The first five chapters are great, and should be standard reading for anyone wanting a basic grasp of how accidents of natural geography help determine where nations form and what their fates are. Thanks to physics and to the demands of human biology, parts of the world with the following qualities are the best at supporting human populations:
- Mild climates. Humans struggle to live in places that are too hot or too cold. This is why there was never a powerful civilization centered in the Arctic regions or Sahara desert. Only small numbers of hyper-specialized nomadic people were able to live in those harsh places, their constant struggle for survival meant they never had the spare time and resources to get advanced, and they were conquered by other groups of people who originated in neighboring temperate climate zones that could support larger populations and bigger resource surpluses.
- Natural harbors and navigable waterways. Moving cargo by boat requires much less energy than it does to move it by pack animal, railroad, or truck. This means that parts of the world blessed with coastlines that have natural harbors–where ships could be protected from rough seas–could participate in trade and get richer than those that lacked them. Rivers are also very important because they provide drinking water, are convenient ways to get rid of waste, and can also be very cheap avenues of transportation, again bolstering trade. Importantly, not all rivers are created equal, and if they are too turbulent, shallow, or full of rapids, they aren’t useful for transit.
- Flat land. Flat land is, for obvious reasons, more useful as farmland, and it is faster, easier, and cheaper for people and cargo to move across it. Flat land can be colonized quickly, and it can support a larger, richer population because of the higher agricultural potential and lower energy costs of moving people and cargo around (the less money you spend on moving things around, the more money you have left over for buying things you want). As mentioned, the most energy-efficient way to move cargo is by boat, but railroad trains are a respectable second-place, while moving things by automobile is a distant third. However, the energy-efficiency of railroad transportation sharply drops if a train has to go uphill even at a 1% grade, or if its track has a lot of curves in it. Thus, flat land is much more conducive to railroad networks.
- Energy resources. Mostly, this means underground fossil fuel reserves.
There are three more key points worth mentioning:
- Mountains (or “highlands” as the author calls them) are usually low-population zones because they can’t support much human life. They also block the flow of people, which can be a good thing (forms a natural barrier between your people and a neighboring group of foreign people) or a bad thing (impedes the movement of your people within your own country and naturally encourages them to develop cultural differences that might undermine shared national identity).
- In general, the bigger a country’s population is, the stronger and richer it is. This is because most humans are productive assets that can build and invent things and aggregate into armies. However, important exceptions include humans that are very young, very old, or disabled. Those types of humans can’t do work, and are net drains on national resources. If they get to be too big a percentage of a country’s population, then the country will have all kinds of problems. The U.S. is one of the few major countries that has and will continue to have a favorable balance of productive humans vs. unproductive humans.
- All of the advantages and disadvantages conferred by geography can be partly ameliorated with technology. Useless cerrados can be turned into farmland, artificial harbors can be built and turbid rivers dammed or dredged, railroad and road networks can be built in areas lacking navigable waterways, energy can be imported or derived from an increasingly diverse array of sources (e.g. – a small country lacking fossil fuels might be ideally situated for dams, nuclear power, solar power, or wind power), and tunnels can be bored through mountain ranges.
I’m much less of a fan of the second part of the book, where the author makes predictions about how different countries will fare up to 2040. He posits many indisputable facts that are well-known to any student of international affairs, geopolitics, and economics, but then leaps from those to many unfounded and provocative conclusions about what’s ahead. Here are those I strongly disagree with:
U.S./Canadian fossil fuels production will stay at high levels. The extent to which fracking has bolstered North American energy supplies, and by extension, changed the world’s energy market (oil and natural gas prices are low across the board now) is clear and remarkable. However, I don’t think it’s safe for the author to assume that U.S./Canadian production levels will stay at current levels until 2040. We don’t know how much recoverable shale oil and gas there is in North America, and production could level off as early as the mid-2020s, and then start declining a few years later.
This scenario isn’t a certainty, and the author could be right, but it’s important to point out that a nearer-term peak is just as plausible as what he thinks. This is not just an academic issue; long-term North American energy independence and the ripple effect of low global fossil fuel prices underpin the author’s assumptions that the U.S. will have the economic luxury of disengaging from the world, particularly the Middle East.
The U.S. will disengage from the rest of the world, creating a destructive power vacuum. The author predicts that, once the U.S. becomes a net energy exporter, the infamous trade deficit with countries like China and Japan will shrink to the point that the U.S. could cut itself off from them at minimal economic cost. Advances in 3D printing (particularly metal printing) will also allow the U.S. to make its own goods instead of relying on foreign factories. Lacking any interest in affairs outside North America, the U.S. will withdraw from its military and trade alliances, bring all of its troops and ships home, and let high-seas pirates and undemocratic regional powers like Iran fill the vacuum.
Problematically, trends over the last five years since The Accidental Superpower‘s publishing haven’t gone the way the author predicted, which suggests the U.S. isn’t on track to being able to economically detach itself from the rest of the world. For example, even though the U.S. became the world’s #1 natural gas producer in 2013 and its #1 oil producer in 2018 and is now breaking all-time export records for both, the country;s trade deficit has gotten WORSE over that period.
Moreover, 3D printers have not improved to the extent that the author seems to have predicted, nor are they starting to replace traditional manufacturing machines (e.g. – looms, presses, lathes) in factories that mass produce goods. Furthermore, there’s no indication that this will change anytime soon. Looking back, it’s clear now that the author wrote the book during a period of hype about 3D printers, and that rosy predictions in pop-sci articles and financial magazines about how the machines were poised to revolutionize the manufacturing industry probably influenced his thinking.
Additionally, since 2014, the U.S. has not become isolationist, in spite of the election of President Trump, whom many policy experts considered a “worst-case scenario” for continuing the U.S. foreign policy status quo. Putting aside the “America First” slogan and countless insulting Tweets aimed at foreign leaders and international alliances, Trump’s concrete policy changes have barely reduced the U.S.’ overseas commitments. Trump has (justifiably) berated other NATO countries for their low defense spending and has “hinted” that he might-possibly-be-thinking-about leaving the alliance, but no real steps have been taken to do so, like shutting down U.S. bases in Europe. Levels of American troops in places that are clearly not core U.S. interests, like Syria and Africa, have little changed since the “globalist” President Obama was in charge. U.S. defense spending is up, and there’s no sign that the military brass or a majority of U.S. politicians want to shrink it.
Where international trade policy is concerned, Trump’s impact has been more substantive as he has replaced NAFTA with a trade pact that favors the U.S. slightly more, refused to join the Trans-Pacific Partnership, and put tariffs on many Chinese imports. But all at worst these policies collectively put a tiny dent in the flow of U.S.-foreign trade.
Since 2014, there has simply been no sign of the U.S. retrenching for its then-existing global commitments, even in spite of the fact that the U.S. elected a more isolationist President in 2016 than the author (or most other experts) probably expected. I don’t think this will change, either, for several reasons. First, even if the U.S. doesn’t consume Middle Eastern oil, many other important countries do and will continue doing so. Allowing the Middle East’s petrostates to fall into chaos will disrupt oil supplies outside of North America, damaging economies across the world, and in turn reducing demand for U.S. exports to those countries. Thus, it will remain in the U.S.’ economic interest to stay engaged in the Middle East indefinitely, and to use its diplomatic and military power to protect the petrostates and Persian Gulf shipping lanes.
Second, the U.S. will stay diplomatically and militarily engaged in seemingly unimportant countries like Afghanistan and the Philippines to keep them from becoming terrorist bases and to prevent them from allying themselves with rivals like Russia or China. Remember that the 9/11 attacks cost the U.S. economy $200 billion at a minimum, and that the attacks were only made possible by al Qaeda having free reign in Afghanistan for bases and planning.
Third, as I hinted earlier, the U.S. military-industrial complex has taken on a life of its own, and pursues its own self-interests and protects its assets (including overseas bases) regardless of America’s actual defense needs. It has become the mother of all entrenched bureaucracies, it’s career suicide for any elected politician to propose serious cuts to it, and fixing military overspending and winding down foreign military alliances is not a priority for most American voters.
China will just, like, fall apart. Arguably the most extreme and least credible prediction in the book is that China will economically and politically implode due to internal and external pressures, it will stop being a world power, and will fragment along ethnolinguistic lines. While the author is right to note that China faces major challenges in the near-to-mid future, he makes elementary errors when he assumes they will lead to national calamity.
I don’t contend the author’s point that China has a corrupt, opaquely run banking sector, and that the country hundreds of billions of dollars in bad debts, but it’s impossible for anyone to know if it will lead to a financial crisis that will wreck the country’s economy. The author’s prediction primarily hinges on this unproven assumption, and is thus bad futurism. The author also rightly points out that China’s working-age population is shrinking due to the defunct One Child policy, and that this will exert serious drag on their economy as the number of unproductive elderly people continues increasing. But again, the author jumps to a conclusion when he predicts this will lead to economic collapse and widespread starvation in rural China. I think it’s much likelier that China’s economic growth rate will continue gradually slowing until it settles near the boundary between “middle” and “high” income countries over the next 20 years. How long it takes them to get out of the “Middle Income Trap” is an open question, but in the long run, they will.
The author’s prediction that the U.S. will help to bankrupt China by ending trade with it ignores the fact that this would be against American interests (the ongoing U.S.-China trade war notwithstanding), and his suggestion that Japan will rearm, magically stop caring about possible nuclear retaliation, and wage a ruinous war against China (along with India and perhaps other Asian countries joining in to block the sea lanes China uses to get oil from the Mideast) is completely silly. Moreover, the notion that China will splinter along ethnolinguistic lines like the Soviet Union did rests on badly flawed assumptions about the Chinese Communist Party’s willingness and ability to use force to put down internal rebellions. The recent 30th anniversary of the Tienanmen Square Massacre gives testimony to the opposite. There are no credible secessionist movements in China, and no rivals to the CCP’s grip on power, and both are unlikely to change.
While reading The Accidental Superpower, I had the lucky…accident…of going on a trip to Ecuador, which is a country dominated by the Andes Mountain range. While there, I climbed a dormant volcano called “Mt. Pichincha,” which is on Quito’s outskirts. That experience in particular and the trip more generally hit home for me some of the book’s important points, and made me think about what they meant the future of intelligent life on Earth and beyond.
Quito sits in a valley that is 9,350 ft (2,850 meters) above sea level, which is already higher than the highest point in any U.S. state east of the Rocky mountains. Most foreigners can feel the tiring physical effects of the thinner air when they simply walk down the street in Quito. Hiking uphill at an even higher altitude is much worse, as I’d soon discover. The first step to climbing Mt. Pichincha is to take a gondola from the edge of the city to a point 12,943 ft (3,945 meters) up the mountain. After that, you walk on a trail to the summit, called “Rucu Pichincha”, 15,696 ft (4,784 meters) high.
Right after exiting the gondola, I noticed it was several degrees colder than in the city, and low-hanging clouds blocked the sunlight. By contrast, Quito far below was mostly bathed in light, and I realized that Mt. Pichincha had its own climate distinct from the valley’s. I hiked out of the gondola station towards the summit, and after only about 20 minutes, passed the last tree along the trail. I was above the treeline, and the only vegetation was wild grass, bushes, and lichens.
Soon after that, I got to what you might call “the cloud line,” meaning I had hiked high enough to be inside that low-hanging cloud layer I noticed at the gondola station. The climate became harsher and more volatile, one minute being still, the next minute being almost clear, and the next being dark and windy. There were actually three distinct “sleet storms” during my hike (keep in mind this was in mid-July, and I was only a few miles from the equator!).
Being in such an environment hit home for me a key point made in The Accidental Superpower: mountains are barriers to human movement, and they form natural borders between human groups. During the first 99.8% of our species’ existence, before Industrial-era technology existed, mountains like Pichincha would have been nearly impassable and almost uninhabitable. Merely building a shelter to escape the harsh climate would have been hard thanks to the lack of wood (remember, I quickly got above the treeline during the hike). Stones would need to be used, which imposes various inefficiencies. Even the crucial ability to make fire for warmth or for cooking would be handicapped by the lack of wood and the moist atmosphere.
The low temperatures (it got bitingly cold and my hands went numb at one point), low sunlight, rocky soil, and sloped land would have made farming impossible. Hunting and gathering on Mt. Pichincha wouldn’t have worked since the animals were so few (I only saw a few small birds and one rabbit) and the vegetation so sparse–the calories you’d burn chasing down animals and walking around to find edible plants would probably exceed the calories you’d get from eating them. Growing food in the arable land in the Quito valley and then shipping it up the mountain on mules or wagons to feed people living there would doubtless be too expensive (unless the mountain people had something really valuable to trade for food, like gold they were getting from a mine), and would ultimately be limited by the same “balance of calories burned vs. obtained” phenomenon. As I realized during my climb, you burn a lot of calories when walking uphill.
The only way a permanent human settlement might have been able to feed itself on Mt. Pichincha would have been if it had domesticated mountain goats or maybe llamas and alpacas (it depends on how sure-footed they are on steep slopes). They could have grazed on the wild grasses and bushes. Even still, I doubt there would have been enough vegetation to support anything but small herds of the animals, which in turn would have kept the number of humans living on the mountain small. The comparatively fertile and benign environment in the Quito valley would have inevitably come to support a much larger, richer population. Imagining a topographical map of the world in my mind’s eye with this new knowledge, many patterns of human settlement and many national boundaries suddenly made more sense to me.
As I hiked further, I considered another important point from The Accidental Superpower–technology allows humans to overcome problems imposed by geography–and I thought about how modern technology could make Mt. Pichincha habitable. Paved roads could be built on all but the steepest parts of the mountain, making most points on it accessible to humans from Quito without physical exertion (the gondola could also be extended). The sloped land could be leveled, graded, and terraced in order to build structures above it, where humans could live and work. Greenhouses could be built on the flattened land, and crops grown inside with much greater efficiency than they would grow outside, particularly if the greenhouses contained transplanted soil and used artificial lighting to counter the mountain’s cloudiness. Water supplies could be assured by building a system of rain catchments and cisterns, and by building simple devices that condensed cloud vapor into water. People living on the mountain could produce some of their own food, though it would be cheaper to buy it from a more fertile place and have it shipped up.
Likewise, people living on Mt. Pichincha could generate their own energy, or build power lines to Quito and buy it from them. As noted, the mountain was windy most of the time, so wind turbines would be an efficient power source. And since Pichincha is a dormant volcano, there are good odds that a geothermal power plant could by sited there.
The only real barriers to building towns or even cities at high altitudes like Mt. Pichincha are cost of living and quality of life. Most things would cost more money since they would be scarcer or would have to be trucked in from Quito. The mountain’s harsh and volatile climate would also be repellent to most humans, though the fact the people still willingly live in Iceland and northern Alaska proves that some people could take it. And even at the peak of Mt. Pichincha, 15,696 ft high, the air is thick enough for humans to breathe without difficulty after a few months of acclimatization. In fact, the highest human town is in neighboring Peru and is 1,000 ft higher than Pichincha’s summit, and professional mountaineers have found that the air remains thick enough for humans to breathe up to 26,247 ft (8,000 m). Thus, modern technology has overcome the natural impediments to human settlement on anything but the world’s very tallest mountains.
I kept hiking, and in spite of worsening physical exhaustion and the thinning air, I had more insights. What would even more advanced technologies mean for the habitability of Mt. Pichincha and other desolate places in the future? Extending the logic from The Accidental Superpower, it would stand to reason that they would open even more to settlement, especially if the settlement were being done by intelligent machines that didn’t have the same biological limitations and inbuilt preferences as humans like us. The colder, windy climate would actually be beneficial since it would help the AIs to cool their computer chips. The thinness of the air and poor quality of the soil wouldn’t pose problems since machines don’t breathe or eat. The bleakness of the landscape wouldn’t bother machines since they would lack the inbuilt genetic programming that humans have, which makes us crave sunny, green environments and blue skies.
All that AIs would need to survive on Mt. Pichincha would be electricity, building materials, and roads to get up and down the mountain. As I noted earlier, the electricity problem could be solved easily, there’s no engineering reason why roads couldn’t be built on all but the steepest parts of the mountain, and building materials could be shipped in from Quito, or even made by pulverizing some of the stones comprising the mountain itself and turning them into concrete. Intelligent machines could probably thrive there. And if they had radically advanced technologies like fusion power and nanomachine-based replicators, they’d have no need for anything aside from periodic refills of fusion reactor fuel and small amounts of trace elements they couldn’t extract from the mountain’s soil or from the air.
Additionally, it struck me that living on Mt. Pichincha or another remote, inhospitable place would be an ethical choice for intelligent machines since their presence wouldn’t displace any humans, and since constructing server farms and structures wouldn’t destroy much animal or plant life. As I noted, I only saw a handful of small animals during my hike, and few of the plants were higher than my knees. Perhaps it will be the fate of intelligent machines to build their cities on mountaintops, cold deserts, or floating on the seas.
And extending this train of thinking by assuming ever-better technology and intelligent machines moving to ever-more-remote places, we are inevitably led to the prospect of space colonization, von Neumann probes, and the conversion of whole celestial bodies into computronium, as Ray Kurzweil predicts (and maybe in the very far future, if our understanding of Physics evolves, our civilization might find ways to “live” in the very fabric of space-time and be invisible but everywhere, or to expand beyond our universe). The well-established point in The Accidental Superpower that technology allows humans to overcome problems imposed by geography and to spread to formerly inhospitable parts of the world (e.g. – Florida before air conditioning was invented) has major implications for the future, and buttresses ideas about space colonization that are now the purview of science fiction. The rule should be rephrased as: Technology allows intelligent life forms to overcome problems imposed by geography and to spread to formerly inhospitable places.
Right as I was making this wonderful conceptual breakthrough, I got so dizzy from the effects of thin air and physical exertion that I fell on my face. Fortunately, I was wearing my backpack around the front of my body like a weirdo, so it cushioned the impact, and I was unhurt. I took stock of my condition and my surroundings: the trail had become narrow and treacherous (the segment I was on was named “Paso de la Muerte” or “Step of the Dead”), I couldn’t see far because I was enveloped in the clouds, and stumbling to the right thanks to another loss of balance or a strong gust of wind would have meant rolling far down a nearly vertical cliff. No, I was not prepared for this climb, so I turned back about 30 minutes short of reaching the summit of Rucu Pichincha. Yes, it was a bit disappointed, but I didn’t want to die, and I consoled myself with my new bit of knowledge and with the fact that I’d managed to hike to about 14,500 ft, which, other than the times I’ve flown in airplanes, is the highest I’ve been in my life.
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