Power Broken

A new construction project at my house involves, among other things, expanding and upgrading our utility systems. A sub-panel must be installed to power the addition, a tap line must be added to our water/pump system, and new hydronic heating loops have to be created. As we consider all the things we would like included in these improvements, the question has come up a couple of times: What about a generator?

At least once every couple of years we have a big enough ice or snow storm to take out our electricity for more than 24 hours. And every time it happens, the discussion about generators comes up. Given the infrequency of these prolonged outages, it is an expense somewhat difficult to justify. But in the midst of the storm, the ability to pump water, fire the heaters, and keep the freezer from defrosting prove to be powerful motivators.

It is at these times that I become aware of just how dependent we have become on these conveniences. I find myself almost constantly flipping light switches, anticipating power that isn’t there. And the cave like qualities of those windowless basement bathrooms become apparent, even though we seldom notice this when they are washed in warm incandescent light. And since, like so many mountain households, our water is supplied by a well, the absence of power also means an absence of running water. But I still forget that I can’t flush the toilets or wash my hands in the sink. The simple fact is, these are conveniences so common to my daily life that I take them for granted. And while I will probably eventually break down and buy a generator, there is a part of me that recognizes the inherent value of going without from time to time.

There is, of course, the unpalatable reality that these things I consider basic necessities are not even available to large numbers of the worlds population. But there is more to it than simply having grown accustomed to these luxuries. Modern utilities have helped to convince us of our own independence, power, and control. With a simple light bulb, we are no longer accountable to the cycle of the sun. With a pump or a public water utility, we no longer need a communal well or the shared responsibility of carrying water to provide for the needs of the community. With power lines strung to my home, I can pretend my household is an independent island; that I neither need anyone else, nor do I answer to anyone.

But then, when the power goes off, the independence I think I have is no longer such a great thing. Honestly, one of the reasons a generator would be such a welcome addition to our infrastructure is the fact that it would help me maintain my illusion of control. But one of the things I actually like about the occasional storm and outage is the way my neighbors and I all come out and work together to take care of things. There is a certain admission of powerlessness that undermines our pretense of independence. And the resulting community is, actually, very enjoyable. Needing each other, it turns out, is really a very healthy thing to do. And the control we think we have, when we really think about it, turns out to be a rather tenuous illusion. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.