I first
learned of Nassim Nicholas Taleb from non-urbanist circles. His philosophy about the course of human
history, and its lack of predictability, intrigued me, so I began reading “The
Black Swan”, the book and concept for which Taleb is most renowned.
It was only
after I was well into the book that I realized that our friends at StrongTowns had
listed “The Black Swan” among their suggested reading materials. The connection perplexed me at first, but the
connection that StrongTowns had seen became clearer as I progressed in my
reading.
Taleb argues
that human affairs are far more random than we understand and that the
unpredictability includes completely unexpected events, his “black swans”, that
change the course of history.
The black
swan reference is to a type of swan found in Australia. He notes that Englishmen, being familiar only
with the white swans of England, considered whiteness an essential component of
being a swan. If asked to estimate the
odds of a swan being black, an Englishman, up until the settling of Australia,
would have justifiably found the question ridiculous and answered that there
was no chance of a black swan.
And then
they arrived in Australia where black swans abound.
Taleb
similarly argues that much of the course of human history is the result of
events that were completely unforeseen and unimagined. Among recent examples, he notes the development
of birth control, the explosion of the AIDS virus, and the events of 9/11.
Nor are our
personal histories any more predictable, with few of us having met our spouses
as we might have planned or had our careers progress as we might have outlined.
The problem
is that we rebel against the thought that we’re not in control of our lives,
but instead are bottles tossed about the surface of the ocean by waves approaching
from all directions.
Taleb tells
the story of talking with local media while promoting his book and being asked
to predict the black swans that were likely to occur in the near future. It was a question that showed a fundamental misunderstanding
of his theory.
In our
personal lives, our best response to the sea of uncertainty is personal
resilience: a good education, cash in the bank, a strong network of personal
and professional acquaintances, the emotional maturity to deal with change.
And that’s
where we connect back to urbanism. The land-use
equivalent of a resilient individual is a city or town with systems that can quickly
react to changed conditions and can be readily restored if knocked off-line.
Think back
to Hurricane Sandy and New York City. On
the night of the storm, the most dramatic photos were of flooding and
widespread utility failures in Manhattan.
But a month later, the parking basements had been pumped out, the
mud-covered walls washed, the failed transformers replaced, and city life
restored. But more than two years later,
we still see photos of far-flung suburbs where cleanup is still pending.
If Taleb is
correct about his “black swans”, and there is much reason to think that he is,
then urbanism is the best response.
(Some may
argue that survivalist encampments would have the same resilience. It’s an interesting point, although I suspect
that the authoritarian structure of most survivalist camps eventually
undermines their resiliency. And even if
they can overcome the governance issue, life within the walls would be stilted
and unsatisfying for many. For those who
prefer a more unfettered form of freedom, resilient towns remain the best
response to Taleb’s theory.)
I’m still
working my way through “The Black Swan”.
(As much as I appreciate Taleb’s
thinking, I find his writing style digressive, so the reading can be
wearying.) I’ll be reporting on insights
yet to come.
But before
closing, I’ll share one of Taleb’s favorite stories about consultants and how anybody,
consultants included, who relies on limited data will have a cloudy crystal
ball.
The story
has become so popular that there are a great many versions scattered about the
internet. Given the dispersion, I’ll write
the story in my own words, adding one more version to the universe of
alternatives already in circulation.
It seems
that was a flock of turkeys on a prosperous turkey farm. The turkeys were content. Food was plentiful. Medical care was good. The poultry lot was well-groomed. The farmer seemed a fine man. And the turkeys were maturing nicely, adding
bulk in all the right places.
But the
turkeys were uneasy. There were vague
rumors that all hadn’t gone well for earlier flocks. So the turkeys hired a consultant whose scope
was to evaluate the long-term outlook for the turkey community.
The consultant
took his task seriously. He reviewed all
the medical records back to when the turkeys had been hatched months earlier,
analyzed the grain, observed the nightly cleanup of the turkey runs, and
watched the farmer as he tended his flock.
After weeks
of work, the consultant submitted his findings to the turkeys. He reported that all looked well, that the
farmer had their best interests at heart, and that there were no foreboding
clouds anywhere on the horizon. The
grateful turkeys paid the consultant his fee and the consultant headed
home. That was in the first week of
November.
And that’s
what happens when you trust consultants and other specialists and don’t have an
overarching plan for resiliency with lots of contingency options.
Next time,
weather permitting, I’ll begin my search for great streets in the North Bay with a look at
Petaluma and Cotati. But if I don’t get
a break in the storms, I’ll put up my feet and watch another episode of “The Planners”.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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