Chamber Corner

Among economist Thomas Sowell's many works is a book called A Conflict of Visions: Ideological Origins of Political Struggles. In it, Sowell makes a point that, if we, as a society, would understand and embrace the differences, it would revolutionize the way we approach challenges. He wrote, "There are no solutions, only trade-offs." It seems like such a simple observation, but the implications of it permeate every aspect of life.

When we seek solutions, problem-solving becomes an all or nothing proposition. Often, we end up thinking of the solution in moral terms. If there is a right way, then any other course of action becomes the wrong way. We start to see our chosen course of action as good, and any opposition to that course as evil. Seeking one solution to the exclusion of any other closes the mind to possibilities. How many times have you heard a person who is trying to lose weight speak about eating in moral terms? We say "I was bad this weekend. I ate a cookie. Or "I was really good. I ordered a Diet Coke with my salad." This kind of binary thinking leads to feelings of guilt if the "solution" is not pursued with perfect focus and consistency.

Legend has it that a couple thousand years ago, a Chinese alchemist was searching for the secret of eternal life. Mixing sulfur, potassium nitrate, and charcoal, the alchemist was sure he'd created an elixir that could help him cheat death.

In perhaps the most ironic twist in the history of humankind, the alchemist had unwittingly created gunpowder. It's famous now for its association with firearms, but for a long time, gunpowder was only used to celebrate births, weddings, and other special occasions. At first, they only worked when you threw them in a fire, and they only produced bright, loud flashes, bursts of light that quickly faded into darkness.

On April 8th, a swath of the country was treated to a celestial light show in the form of a total solar eclipse. There was little suspense to it; science and math have enabled us to predict what happened down to the fraction of a second. The whole event was entirely predictable. However, when you're standing in the moon's shadow, gazing up at the corona, blazing away around the black disc of the moon, the calculations and science falls away, and all that's left is a profound sense of awe at the vastness of the universe that surrounds us. Those who had the opportunity to witness the event came away with a newfound appreciation for natural phenomena. Such an event can make a person feel simultaneously small and inextricably connected.

I grew up in a time before life was ruled by screens. We had one television but there were only a few channels. Our television set had an analog channel changer that sounded like a bad transmission when you went from channel 4 to channel 7. There were only a few times a day that things came on that kids wanted to watch, which corresponded with the beginning and end of the school day. The rest of the time, we were on our own when it came to entertainment.

Recently, I've been quite taken with reruns of a show called "Undercover Boss." The show follows CEOs as they go undercover to work in their own companies. They invariably discover shortcomings in their firm's operations, such as computer systems that don't communicate and systemic issues that hinder their company's mission. What they also find is employees that magnify their position, making the most out of their time, and cheerfully create an environment that helps everyone around them excel. At first, I found the show interesting because of my own work in helping Grant County businesses succeed. I've realized, after watching a few episodes, that the real reason I'm watching this show is nostalgia.