Sitting here in the Seattle airport in the midst of a very long travel delay. We are working in Anchorage this week and flights there have been delayed and cancelled all day due to a massive windstorm. Our flight was due to leave an hour ago. We have another six hours to wait. All good. Travelling in northern North America in the winter requires endless patience and the occasional bout of creative travel planning. There is nothing better than threading the needle to get the last seat. It’s a much better way to channel energy than getting angry at the weather.
So I was reflecting on some old blog posts and found this one from 2015 where I talked about my working tech set up. Back then it was kind of popular to share things like that on blogs. Ten years later it’s interesting to see what has changed.
Infrastructure
I have a full office now. Since our son moved out in 2020 I have occupied a downstairs bedroom which affords me a proper office chair, an adjustable desk and a space for two guitars, a digital keyboard and books. I need more shelves, as the piles accruing in the corners of the room are starting to give me anxiety.
Our internet comes through Rogers now. Since 2015 when I last documented this set up, Rogers has run fibre to our island, and bought out Shaw. Internet is reliable and high speed and we’ve had very very few problems.
When I’m home on Bowen Island, I often walk the 1.5 kms to village and work in our library which has just installed a booth for taking calls. It’s a good place to write and a fantastic community asset. I think public libraries are as important as schools, water systems, and ferries.
Hardware
My workhorse these days is a 2021 iMac. It’s the first desktops I’ve had in a while, but once the pandemic changed life forever, my MacBook Air could handle the load of a lot of video and the screen wasn’t big enough to host online. The desktop is starting to show its age, and I probably need to give it a good cleaning. My old MacBook Air failed me in 2022 and I replaced it with a new one then.
An Epson printer is mostly used for printing music these days. Almost everything I do is done digitally now.
I have a iPhone 13 which keeps me connected. I’v started weaning myself off it, so it currently sits in another room from where I am most of the time. Even still, it’s remarkable how much I use it. I have some social media presence and I read various newspapers and news sites most mornings. I am studying Italian on Duolingo and I’m a crossword fan. Tripit is how I keep my travel schedule straight.
I have a Kindle which holds documents and ebooks that I find on BookBub, as well as free ebooks from Project Gutenberg and elsewhere. I mostly read actual books, but the Kindle is still always in my backpack.
Basic apps
These days almost everything I do now is in the cloud, using apps and web tools. It’s pretty remarkable. Caitlin just bought a new laptop and it was so easy to open it up, download a few apps and get back to work. Back in the old days, doing migrations was a day of work. Instead of buying software outright these days, we have subscriptions.
Over the past few years I have migrated most stuff to the Apple Universe. If Apple has the app for it, I’m using it. Once Safari acquired the capability to to Voice Typing on Google Docs, that sealed the deal for me. Chrome is on board but very rarely used. For Google I do use Gmail still as my primary email address, but I read all my mail through Mac Mail and the Calendar is kept in iCal. The only reason to enter the Google verse is to set calendar dates and attach a Zoom meeting automatically. I wish Apple would bring that functionality to iCal.
I use Apple Maps for navigating because it has better integration with my calendar, but Google Maps tends to be a better option because I assume it has more data points, so the real time updates are useful. Also for driving in unfamiliar places, Google Maps tends to give clearer instructions with lane selection and the names of streets more constant than in Apple Maps.
Most of my writing is done on Google Docs. Especially since the pandemic, this just remains the easiest and most universal platform for collaboration. I still use Evernote for capturing and clipping web sites, articles and papers. It’s my digital library. However over the years it has become clunkier and clunkier and so I have moved my notes and reminders back to the Apple apps. It makes them easier to share with my partner too.
We use Zoom for video meetings and workshops, and Padlet and Miro as our white board collaborative spaces. Since Google Jamboards were discontinued, we’ve subscribed to Padlet and find their Sandbox app to be a very good substitute, and slightly more powerful. We are using Kajabi to manage our courses. I use NarraFirma for Participatory Narrative Inquiry projects and run a separate NarraFirma server for that work.
Apple Music is my preferred streaming platform. Not Spotify.
Web publishing and Social Media
If you are reading this, you will know that I still use WordPress as the engine for my blog. Folks seem to find posts here through Google searches, reposting to social media and subscription. I’ll do a separate post on my approach to blogging these days, but suffice to say I think that self publishing is probably more important than ever now. I keep an active set of blog feeds in NetNewsWire, which is my feed reader of choice these days.
I was a power Twitter user from near the beginning and build a decent following there. Musk’s take over ruined that as a useful app. The app has long ago been offloaded from my phone and my business and soccer accounts have both been made dormant. They will just sit there now.
Likewise I have gone off Facebook for almost everything but republishing blog post links and a few specific connections to communities I am a part of. I hate Facebook, and as Zuckerberg has firmly entrenched his presence in the gallery of fascist oligarch propagandists, it’s losing its usefulness daily. I despair how many continue people use that site as their entire experience of the web.
I use LinkedIn to share posts and find interesting stuff. It’s tough though. It’s like walking through the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul trying to make friends and have a good conversation while people constantly try to sell you stuff you don’t need.
So these days I have pledge not to invest in building a social network on any platform owned by a billionaire who can just change his mind on a whim. To that end you will find me on Mastodon, and specifically on the mstdn.ca instance which is large and inclusive and has a values statement I can support. On Mastodon I share links and engage in some conversation. I think of it as a true microblogging platform, so it compliments this one. Every month I publish a summary of links I find there on this blog.
My Mastodon feed is bridged to Bluesky so if you can follow me there if you like, if you prefer that app. I don’t engage in conversation there on that account.
You will find me active on Bluesky at my account devoted to my participation in the world of Canadian soccer.
Social Infrastructure
Since that post in 2015, things have changed and things have stayed the same. Still singing in local choirs, one based in our United Church and the other, Carmena Bowena, an a cappella Renaissance choir that performs locally. Things have changed since the pandemic, but village life is still the same. I feel less close to friends these days. I’m not drinking as much, so I don;t show up at the Pub, but I’m not averse to a spontaneous hour long cup of coffee, like I did yesterday.
My volunteer commitments have mostly wound down for now with the exception of TSS Rovers, the semi-professional soccer team that I co-own with 450 other shareholders. We are Canada’s first supporter owned soccer team and play in the Men’s and Women’s divisions in League 1 BC, basically the second tier of Canadian soccer. I’m a member of the leadership group for the Supporter’s Trust which represents the voice of the community owners on the Board. I absolutely love being a part of this.
Our ferry, Queen of Capilano, sailing in Snug Cove back in 2009 before she had her capacity increased.
Got word today that BC Ferries is embarking on an initiative to renew their community engagement practices. This is important to me because I rely on BC Ferries to get to and from my home on Bowen Island to te mainland. They are a critical player in coastal life in British Columbia. in 2003 the government of BC, a liberal party who favoured privatization, turned them from a Crown Corporation (and operating entity owned by government to serve the public good) to a private corporation. Or at least a quasi-private corporation; the province owns the only share. This was largely done to get BC Ferries capital debt off the government’s books so they could show that they were combatting public debt. It was a bait a switch game, but it has not improved services for Islanders in BC. It has become less accessible for Islanders to voice concerns and propose solutions because its the services contract that guides operations (the Province has a fixed price services contract with the company) and not actually public needs. This is what happens when you privatize public services. You get enshittification because the company needs to shift its focus from public service to operational sustainability, and in the cases of purely commercial organizations, profit and return to shareholders
BC Ferries used to have Ferry Advisory Committees in the communities where they operate, and these FACs, as they were known, were important channels for communications between islanders and the company. Increasingly it seems like these haven’t been very effective, as FACs can’t really influence capital construction, and at least on our island, BC Ferries has been completely unwilling to work with us on issues like ferry marshalling, traffic management and service improvements.
Now they are reinventing their process and have started an engagement process to do so. I breathed a big dispirited sigh when I saw that they are calling the first phase “best practice research.” There are no “best practices” for how to deal with the kinds of issues BC Ferries is facing either as a company or in its interaction with our island. We are in literally unprecedented times.
The advise I will be giving to BC Ferries will be that they need to adopt a approach to working with Bowen Island, and other island communities, that seeks to develop experiments and small changes that can help us learn more about how to make things better. We have many challenges and Islanders have a lot of ideas with respect to traffic management, marshalling, services schedules, equipment, collection of fees and infrastructure development, especially as they get closer to the scheduled Snug Cove Terminal capital project. Now is the time for us to experiment and find what works. I would also advise them to work with a group of citizens on Bowen who can act as a kind of ongoing citizens assembly – studying the problems together, learning about constraints, and co-creating ideas which BC Ferries can help implement. What is required for that is for BC Ferries to trust Islanders and to be a part of the solution by offering time, money and influence resources to see what we can discover by putting some ideas into play. I’ve signed up to receive their communications. I’m not too confident they will adopt the kinds of approaches I’m talking about, but I’ll let them know.
Because I lead a lot meetings, I often get asked to do territorial acknowledgements before the work begins. And because I’ve been a supporter of Squamish language education and fluency through the Sníchim Foundation I’ve been trying to learn how to do that in the Squamish language. The text above is a very basic acknowledgement of territory, that was shared with me by Khelsílem a while ago and I’ve been using it for gatherings held here on Nexwlélexwm (Bowen Island)*
* my current blog fonts settings can’t cope with some of the characters in Squamish orthography. I recognize that’s a problem. Any suggestions for addressing that are welcome!
A graph showing cetacean sightings in Átl’ka7tsem/Howe Sound from 2001-2018
Here in Átl’ka7tsem/Howe Sound, the return of cetaceans over the past 20 years has been truly incredible. Having been hunted to extirpation from this part of the world in the early 1900s, a single Humpback Whale made a stunning return to our inlet in 2001. Along with the Humpbacks came hope of a renewed and recovered inlet, washed free of the massive pollution problems caused by a century of logging, wood processing and mining.
The explosion happened in earnest in 2010 when Pacific Whitesided Dolphins returned to Howe Sound by the hundreds. The number of sightings in the above graph doesn’t catch the number of dolphins. There were pods numbering in the hundreds at times swimming in unison around the Sound, riding the bow waves of water taxis and ferries. They were here becasue the herring had returned to the inlet, and anchovies had joined them having moved north from California due to warmer waters.
The dolphins didn’t last long becasue hot on the heels of them came irruptions of sea lions and seal populations and that attracted the Biggs Killer Whales, transient Orcas that eat marine mammals. They are here to stay and in recent years have been joined by occasional visits from the Northern Resident Killer Whales who have forayed south in search of fish to eat.
Since 2018 when this graph ends, the humpback population has exploded and there are now upwards of 60 calves and 400 adults that make their summer feeding homes in the Salish Sea, some spending lots of their time in and around Howe Sound. These numbers are especially encouraging because calves that are raised in a place tend to stay there and later breed. The Humpbacks have returned. It will be amazing the tallies for the last six years.
It is getting to the point where every time I’m on the ferry I take my binoculars and scan for whales. I see whales probably 10-15% of the time, and in every month. Spomtimes the presence of whale watching boats gives them away, other times I just scan the sea and catch a blow or a fin. Just the other day I set up a hammock on the south shore of our island and spent the afternoon reading and watching a pod of four orcas travel below the bluffs.
It’s hard to describe the effect that the return of the whales has had on our Island and on the communities of Howe Sound. Multiple Facebook groups have popped up to share sights and Ocean Wise has set up a ground-based Whale Blitz which concludes tomorrow. Folks are being encouraged to get out and look for whales, contribute to the science and learn how to identify different species and how to keep them safe.
The whales have been the central figures in the story of how we established the Átl’?a7tsem / Howe Sound Biosphere Region in 2021 and they will continue to hold us accountable as we both resist and shape the industrial, commercial and development forces that are at work next to Canada’s third biggest urban area.
I was reflecting today with a friend on the nature of the world right now. We were discussing some of the story collections I have from the early part of the pandemic when I was running Participatory Narrative Inquiry projects with organizations seeking to understand the effects of the pandemic on their services. It’s hard to remember that time, and it’s very hard to remember the “before-times,” as people call them. But reading these stories reminded me of what we all did together all of a sudden. It was meant to be a short-term intervention in our lives. It wasn’t.
I think the pandemic has fundamentally altered our reality. I remember the 2010s as a time when we were starting to get some things right, and for me, that positive aspect of the decade really took shape in the way public transportation was developing in the Vancouver region. During the 2010s, Vancouver built a light rail extension to the airport, began building a subway across the Broadway corridor on the west side of the city and rapidly increased the number of express bus routes and connections, even out to the suburbs. This whole era seemed like one where the focus was on connecting people for a larger public good. It symbolized a collective and concrete commitment to our region’s well-being.
But when the pandemic began, much of that progress halted, and we lost many of those public services because people stopped commuting and meeting in person. On our little island, a successful community-operated express bus ceased running downtown. Our late-night water taxi service disappeared. Deep in the city, streets were taken over for patios, and folks started living outside a little more leading to the establishment of more bike infrastructure. But the return to public transit was slow and still hasn’t reached pre-pandemic levels (as of last year, anyway). People are Uber-ing and using car share programs like Evo, but we’re not getting in the bus. We don’t have to. Lots of us work from home now. It is getting more and more individual.
And that’s what seems to have captured the shift for me. I have no data to back this up – maybe you do – but this shift has led to a diminishment of shared public experiences, replaced by individual, isolated realities. Ironically, while we aimed to work together to to protect each other from the virus, the measures we took dissolved the sense of collective public good into fragmented personal experiences. In fact, I think the reason that so many people feel manipulated and react with a strong desire for “freedom from the government” has to do with the fact that the response to the pandemic required us all to participate but left no space for us to co-create, at least not by the second half of 2020. The early weeks and months were full of community effort locally and our skills were all called into action. Being a person with online hosting skills meant that I could offer a weekly zoom call for local businesses here to keep folks apprised of the supports that were available to them and help them connect to efforts that were ongoing to keepbrikcs and morter businesses solvent during the March – June closures.
That began to change towards the end of the year when folks started getting fed up with the restrictions. We longed to be left alone. We resented governments telling us what to do. We started to see a massive rise in the rhetoric of separation, whether it was deeply individualistic calls for action or movements that pointed fingers, blamed others and backed into relationships to form movements, like the Freedom Convoy in Canada.
As we slowly emerge from this period, it’s evident that our minds and ways of thinking have been irrevocably changed. The information we consume through our devices hasn’t helped us make sense of this transformation; instead, it often exacerbates the confusion and sense of disconnection. We don’t want anyone telling us what to do. We are forgetting how to make things together, other than networks of outrage.
On top of the health crisis, we’ve faced a kind of psychological and cultural trauma. This hyper-individual experience of a global event has left many feeling helpless and detached. Change-making, which requires us to act together to serve a public good, often fails to recognize the deeper, collective nature of our challenges. We see many individual actions without much organizing, connection or collective effort to work with power, policy and resources. Outrage is close at hand. This disconnection and frustration manifest because people feel they’re doing something significant, yet it’s hard to see how these actions fit into the larger picture of systemic change.
Moreover, this period’s grief and unresolved emotions linger in our collective psyche. Many of us were forced into self-reflection during the lockdowns, confronted with who we are and what our lives mean. There is a ton of lateral violence out there right now: people taking out anger and aggression at others for small or even presumed transgressions. We can probably all tell stories of being on the end of a tirade from someone, and probably many of us have stories where WE lost it against someone out of proportion to whatever irritation provoked the outbursts. This unresolved grief remains within our systems as we try to “return to normalcy,” highlighting the need for deeper healing and integration of these experiences.
We were never going to return to normalcy, though. We are in a different place than we were and I cannot put my finger on it. I’d love to hear your reflections on what it has been like. Many of us who work with groups as facilitators have noticed a difference in how groups work. I see fear and reluctance to engage. I think lots of us are regressing in our ability to sit face-to-face with one another and have conversations, especially around hard issues. While I have experienced tremendous healing in hosting conversations and participatory initiatives, I have also seen initiatives fizzle. Folks are increasingly asking me to host Open Space meetings because they just need to put ideas out there and talk about them.
I have a growing desire to understand this state of affairs and put my finger on it in a way others recognize. I have been reading novels set in other pandemic times, but it seems that none of the brilliant authors I have read have caught on to the psychological effects of the pandemic on the collective psyche. I’m not seeing it in films or TV shows, either. It’s as if what we went through has been erased or skipped over in our collective history. We aren’t really telling the story of it, nor are we telling stories that acknowledge it. Has anyone read a novel that spans the years 2019 to now? Let me know. How are you seeing what’s happening?