A Winter's Day in Canada
The storm also hit the internet
I just happened to be in Montreal when the storm hit. In a way, there was no indication of it coming. Weather forecasts predicted warm weather moving in, but as it turned out the system had slipped just to the south. Even then, it didn't look like anything serious was about to occur. Freezing rain is common, and the seemingly benign drops of rain and subsequent ice pellets didn't indicate that a disaster was about to unfold - naturally, until it was too late.
Over a one week period barely into the new year, the province of Quebec underwent an ice storm that it would never forget. Over three million people were without power for about a week; about half a million of these had to bear without electricity for even longer. The entire region was literally plunged in darkness, with up to 40% of the physical infrastructure destroyed. Emergency shelters went up all over the place and about 1,000 Americans came up to help restore power and clear the trees. Meanwhile, a state of emergency was declared and 8,000 soldiers from across Canada were mobilised to help in clean-up efforts and reinforce security.
When we think of storms, we think of sudden, violent changes. This was anything but that. It was just a constant drizzle of rain - freezing rain, that is - that calmly carried on for almost four days and nights uninterrupted. In its wake it left a world caked in ice. Trees were bent to the ground in surreal splendor, with tens of thousands of them seriously damaged. Huge electric towers toppled like dominoes, electric wires lay like snakes slithering in the snow, and transformers gave off blue plumes of light as they exploded from the pressure of the ice. Although the financial cost of the disaster had not been fully calculated yet, it has already been estimated to be more than a billion Canadian dollars.
Situations like this often bring out the best in some people. Those who had electricity opened their doors to strangers without. Donations flowed to hospitals and shelters that were strapped for supplies. Volunteers went out helping clear debris and break the ice for their neighbours.
At the same time, however, some tried to take advantage of the situation. There were cases of looting as thieves took advantage of the fact that many homes and businesses were vacated. Also, because of the lack of electricity, security alarms were of little use. The police were well aware of the situation, and sent out increased patrols while the media made it clear that the authorities were being extra vigilant. Their tones, however, betrayed a sense of unease whenever they talked about "security". Fortunately, Montreal is not like New York or Los Angeles; one could just imagine what would have happened if those cities had undergone the same situation.
On another level, though authorities called for community spirit some evidently didn't hear the call. As the glittering lights and neon signs took a break in the darkness, predatory capitalism still reared its ugly head. For the few shops that were opened, either because their power was restored quickly or they had a generator to keep them running through the crisis, the province-wide blackout was a moment of opportunity for price gouging. Many sold critical items - fuel, candles, wood, and rock salt - at exorbitant prices which were inflated specifically for the occasion, sometimes by as much as 100%. Consumers, meanwhile, cold and weary, were often irritable and vented their frustrations on the honest few that decided not to seize the chance to make an extra profit.
The degree of exploitation, however, differed not only among individuals but entire regions as well. Although the storm had focused most of its wrath in Quebec, it was not the only province to suffer. The Maritime provinces to the east as well as the province of Ontario to the west also fell victim to the ice. While the damage outside of Quebec was not as extensive, community spirit nevertheless wasn't commensurate with how badly a region was hit. In Ontario, for example, all hotels within affected areas of the province offered equal, special rates in order to not only assist victims without power, but to encourage people to leave their cold homes so as to minimise the risks and hazards of staying in freezing living conditions. In the province of Quebec, meanwhile, it was business as usual.
The ice storm of January 1998 was, above all this, a sobering experience. For all our talk, we are still humbled by the power of nature. This is especially true for the Internet. Techno-utopians and the digerati often forget that we still live within physical constraints, despite their proclamations of the "death of distance." No matter how easy it may be to lose your physical being and the real world by merging yourself with the images flashing on your computer monitor, when the lights go out it's just as black there as it is outside.
Naturally, some had battery-powered laptops and were able to use the Internet to do some work, keep up with the news, or wile away the hours within a paralysed city. However, not everyone was as fortunate to own a laptop, no less have the power to recharge the battery. It was a unique sight to see people running around with their laptops, looking for a building that had some electricity. Mad Max no longer seemed to be such a pointless movie after all.
Clearly, the Internet was not invincible to the frozen vengeance of nature. Local Internet service providers (ISPs) in Quebec reported a 25-30 per-cent drop in calls. What is more, smaller ISPs without a backup generator were simply shut down, leaving many users stranded. As for e-commerce, companies were unable to offer services or were themselves stranded since their web sites were not working.
Likewise, the vulnerability of a credit-based economic system was glaringly apparent in the darkness. People could not comprehend that they were unable to pay with a bank/credit card. If the storm had been any more severe, it could have had grave financial repercussions for there was simply no way to get cash out of all that plastic.
Some might argue that all this was just a fluke, something that would rarely happen once in a lifetime. Well, I wouldn't be too sure about that. Last year I just happened to be in Central and Eastern Europe when the storms hit. Fortunately, I was in Hungary at the time which was the least affected. Still, the feeling of being stuck inside while it rained day in and day out, as if it would never stop, is disheartening at best. This is to say nothing of those in Poland, the Czech Republic, and eastern Germany who had to flee their homes. Many of them did not even have a home to return to after that.
As the frequency and intensity of storms increase, it would be foolhardy to ignore them as accidental occurrences. Equally foolish would be to believe that technology in and of itself would somehow be a solution, or at least a way to escape the tempest until it blows over.
This is not to say that we do an about-turn and march backward in time. If we all run out and buy wood stoves we would probably do more harm to the environment than what we are doing at present. Rather, the problem is that in our post-modern societies we expect everything to be seamless - from the way we shop and do business to the operating systems of our computers to how we heat our homes. Consequently, we are left stranded and at a loss of what to do when what appears seamless suddenly comes undone.
In the end, what happened in Quebec on that cold January week is that nature delivered a frozen slap on the face to millions, so as to remind them (and the rest of us) of who we really are. At the same time, it was a unique pot-shot at techno-utopians and the digerati. Their claims that the Internet is indestructible and can withstand the effects of even a nuclear war may very well be true. However, the chance of you surviving such a mishap is much less. So what good is something like the Internet if you're not around to use it?