Floating Motes

I’ve started to think of humanity as a cloud of floating motes. Floating motes can be wafted by water or breezes, carried by flora or fauna, or moved by cascades of snow, dirt, rock, or lava. That they have no agency of movement, however, does not mean they have no effect. Particle density affects air quality for everything that uses air, alive or mechanical, as well as water sedimentation, sunlight impinging on Earth, sunset spectacularness or lack thereof, and how often I have to clean my windshield.

Dust was the leading factor in the extinction event that ended the 165 million year reign of the dinosaurs after that asteroid hit Earth. Don’t underestimate the power of tiny, brainless, nearly invisible specks.

Humans similarly seem to cause large effects without intending to. We refer to this as unintended consequences, and the way we wield that term implies that these are rare, that most consequences of our actions are just as we intend. This may be true in a very local sense: When I wipe down the countertop, it looks cleaner. Of course if I had a microscope, I would realize it is completely covered with Colony Forming Units, aka CFUs.

Though the bacteria and fungi that comprise CFUs are quite small, they are not motes, not only because they are alive–that’s how they form those colonies!–but also because they are much tinier; though the size of dust particles can range widely, in most cases each is 3 to 25 times larger than a bacterium. It’s easy to read some shocking stats on how disgusting most kitchens really are, but why bother? We are all covered with CFUs, both inside and out, as is the air, the water, pretty much the entire planet. We evolved to live with these things, and if you know how to keep your immune system healthy you shouldn’t worry too much about it.

Since we’re human, what we do doesn’t matter to us so much as what we believe we do. The countertop looks, feels, and smells great after my husband cleans it–really, he is so talented, you would not believe it–and that works fine for me. I don’t even own a microscope, and my vision is deteriorating each year, so I’m going with the evidence of my senses, especially since I can’t do anything about the situation anyway.

At least when we clean the countertops we aren’t making things worse. When we heightened smokestacks to improve local pollution, we created nationwide acid rain. During the Plague, Londoners killed the dogs and cats that might otherwise have eaten the rats carrying infected fleas. We tried to stop forest fires by just stopping them, leading to a massive increase in underbrush that fueled megafires many times more dangerous.

Unintended consequences can be positive too. Demilitarized zones often become vibrant ecosystems. Reduced human activities in cities during the pandemic allowed birds to sing more softly.

When we are noisy, birds have to yell.

I don’t mean to suggest that we shouldn’t try to do our best. I think our best strategy is to be as kind and patient as we can and to not try to influence other humans other than by our own example. They will take from it what they will. Doing my best is, well, the best I can do.

As a retired person, I sometimes enjoy thinking of myself as a floating mote, open to whatever happens without trying to force it. Wonder what I’ll do today?