Conversations with Tyler - Stewart Brand on Starting Things and Staying Curious
Episode Date: January 26, 2022From psychedelics to cyberculture, hippie communes to commercial startups, and the Whole Earth Catalog to the Long Now Foundation, Stewart Brand has not only been a part of many movements—he was the...re at the start. Now 83, he says he doesn't understand why older people let their curiosity fade, when in many ways it's the best time to set off on new intellectual pursuits. Tyler and Stewart discuss what drives his curiosity, including the ways in which he's a product of the Cold War, how he became a Darwinian decentralist, the effects of pre-industrial America on his thought, the subcultural convergences between hippies and younger American Indians, why he doesn't think humans will be going to the stars, his two-minded approach to unexplained phenomena, how L.L. Bean inspired the Whole Earth Catalog, why Silicon Valley entrepreneurs don't seem interested in the visual arts, why L.A. could not have been the home of hippie culture and digital innovation, what libertarians don't understand about government, why we should bring back woolly mammoths, why he's now focused on maintenance and institutions, and more. Check out Ideas of India. Subscribe to Ideas of India on your favorite podcast app. Read a full transcript enhanced with helpful links, or watch the full video. Recorded January 3rd, 2022 Other ways to connect Follow us on Twitter and Instagram Follow Tyler on Twitter Follow Stewart on Twitter Email us: cowenconvos@mercatus.gmu.edu Subscribe at our newsletter page to have the latest Conversations with Tyler news sent straight to your inbox.
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Hello, everyone, and welcome back to Conversations with Tyler.
Today I'm chatting with Stuart Rand,
and Stuart is an individual who is, above all else, an individual,
and who defies summary.
But think of him as someone who was there early or their first,
in a multitude of movements, including cyberculture, psychedelics, the importance of Native Americans
in their philosophy, the whole earth catalog, the entire San Francisco scene, the Long Now Foundation,
and the notion of the importance of durability and the idea of maintenance, the idea of bringing back
woolly mammoths to life, and much, much more. Stuart Brand, welcome. Well, thanks. It's a delight and an
honor to be here. Thinking back on your entire life, in which ways do you see yourself as a product of
the Cold War. I was in a town that was in Rockford, Illinois, that was rated as number seven on the
list of the American cities to be destroyed by the Soviet Union with bombs because we built
machine tools. And they thought that was upstream of American industry and therefore, blah, blah,
blah. I was younger than 10 by then. So I had nightmares about wandering around and
or destroyed Rockford, where I was the only person left alive. So I had a certain built-in apprehension,
and among things that led to, as you may remember, I think you're old enough, to remember
when the mushroom cloud of the atomic explosion was the sort of symbol of human civilization at that
point. That was the way global everything thought about itself was the threat of nuclear annihilation.
And the photograph of the Earth from space that came along, 68 and 6970 from the Apollo program,
completely replaced that nuclear cloud with an image of a very hopeful-looking Earth.
And it's interesting because I realize now the Earth is sort of being deployed,
that photograph which was so hopeful and green and better than the mushroom cloud,
is now evoked a lot in context of climate change.
And once again, it's sort of an image of threat rather than a promise.
So am I correct in thinking of you of somehow taking the research environment of World War II,
the notion of threat, but redeveloping the ideas of the computer and the network forum
to put forward some more optimistic, also a more decentralized vision of the future?
Yeah, I think there's some motivations for all of that.
and paid very close attention as I started to pay attention to things to the research
library in electronics that was going on at MIT.
And they were studying Shannon's version of information.
They were studying how communications, electronic communications, and then digital communications
were transforming humanity, basically.
And so that was a set of premises.
This was before we had Moore's law.
But I had a sense of a self-enhancing process that was going to not just change everything once, but change it many times.
That's what exponentials do if they keep going.
So I sort of rode that wave of an engineering understanding of civilization that I have to this day.
And how is it that you became such a decentralist?
Got decentralist.
That's interesting.
You're right.
I think you'll probably see this with the artists that you study.
I got a degree in biology from Stanford.
and then was going off to be an army officer.
But in the course of that, I started hanging out with artists and Bohemians
in North Beach in San Francisco.
This is the late 50s, early 60s.
So my first calling was as a professional photographer
that then turned into a so-called creative photographer doing art.
And I was doing multimedia with a group called Usko in New York.
And basically took on the role as an artist in the world.
And that kind of stuck.
And so my media would change a lot.
I would start nonprofits and sometimes businesses and various things.
But it was always not part of a hierarchical organization and not trying to build a hierarchical organization.
It was basically enhancing creativity at the individual level.
And so with the whole earth catalog that led to a kind of a lazy libertarianism that I later got over when I worked for Governor Brown
the state of California. And remember also as a biologist and evolution, Darwinian evolution is the most
decentralized thing that you can imagine. It's way beyond the market economy is something that
runs itself and is self-organizing at every level and at every scale. And so I haven't answered
that question before. So answering at this time, I think I've talked myself into being a Darwinian.
What was the influence of Nikos Kazanzakis on your thought?
The Greek author, Zorba the Greek, right?
Yeah, Zorba the Greek and Adesius, the modern sequel and so on,
which I think I'm the only person who read.
There was a strong, committed romanticism there.
It was also clear in Einrand, who I also paid attention to for a while,
before the preposterousness of it all took it over.
But Kuznzaki had this sort of commit everything to your theory of the world,
even if it's wrong.
And I got over that also because that way,
lies madness and also great destruction. But it was fun to go down that road with him. He's a
beautiful writer and thinker. In which ways is your thought drawing from America's pre-industrial past?
Well, I'm old enough to have actually lived with ice boxes. Ice is what kept the refrigerator
is cold in Michigan in our summers, and we used outhouses. So to a certain extent, I'm just, you know,
grounded in Midwestern forest living. But
But also I, for some reason, picked up a strong, through a writer named Kenneth Roberts, a strong
identification with New England and kind of traditional New England.
Buckminster Fuller later played right into that for me.
And so all of that has a kind of grounded continuity.
I was, you know, one of the three guns, Midwesterners, where I started with a BB gun, and
then got a pellet rifle, and then a 22, and then a more serious rifle.
So hunting and fishing were part of the world.
I was in, I didn't do much of either one, but that was who we were. He wanted to be a good outdarsman.
Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window, how did it matter for you? Oh, God. Well, you know, because of the name,
James Stewart, because he was kind of lanky and laconic, I identified with him. My older brother,
Mike, I figured it was Bert Lancaster, but I was James Stewart. And so two movies that Stewart
made were Rear Window, where he was with Grace Kelly, and he was a photojournalist.
That looked exciting, and I later became a photojournalist.
And also, he was in a movie called Broken Arrow, which was the first movie that was liberal
about American Indians.
It was really, really well written, well researched on Chiracawa Apache culture.
And James Stewart, there is the guy who connects with Indians.
And when I later married an Indian woman, Lois Jennings, we used to play scenes from that
where she's watching him shaving and wondering what the hell he's doing, because Indians don't
shave, and we just played that stuff out. So James Stewart was a handy character to identify with
for me. And what do you think is the major intellectual influence from Native American or Indian
perspectives on your thought? Is it the idea of maintenance? Something else? I mean, it's surprised
for me. I've been surprised a couple of times. I was surprised in Venice that it was basically an
Asiatic town. I was surprised by the Indians I was photographing in Oregon in 1963, I guess it was,
that it was such a rich and active culture. This was not people in the past with feathers and teepees.
This was people in the present. They were doing a wild horse roundup. They were cowboys,
you know, cowboys and Indians together. And rather different cowboys than the ones I'd seen.
the white cowboys tended to be very ferociously individualistic and competitive.
And the Indian cowboys I saw were much, much more collaborative.
And there was a gentleness, a constant humor, a welcome to people like me.
So when I started hanging out, I was inspired by that experience to visit a lot of reservations
and just hang out with Indians.
And I eventually did a multimedia show called America Needs Indians.
and that turned out to become a point of reference for the hippie subculture.
And it was basically one subculture paying attention to another subculture for inspiration and a sense of identity.
So the long hair convergence was a way for the older Indians, the long hair gentleman.
And the younger Indians who were trying to decide who to be because they had a lot of choices are realizing that the continuity of their native culture
was a really valuable thing, not something to feel bad about or to flee from.
And that's played out very well.
So Indians are in way better shape now than they were when I first started paying attention.
Or when Marlon Brando, before I got to know Marlon, he was basically at every place that I went to before I was hanging out with the fish Indians in Washington,
with the sort of revolutionary Indians in Oklahoma.
and it was regarded with affection and respect by the Indians that I met.
Now, if I try to place you in the earlier part of your career,
and if I compare you to Buckminster Fuller, Norbert Wiener, Gregory Bateson,
what are the key variables where you disagree with them?
How should I sum up intellectually that difference?
I bought Norbert Wiener, I guess, first,
and he held up very well.
Buckminster Fuller, the artists I was hanging out with,
were paying close attention to him and to Marshall McLuhan,
and he was this amazing thinker who sort of revolutionized his whole behavior and his whole thought patterns
around what he thought was a more productive way to behave and think in the world.
The only person I know who's that radical with himself is Kevin Kelly,
who occasionally takes a notion and just goes all the way down just to see what's there.
So Bucky only really changed himself once, but it was an impressive change.
When I came across Gregory Bateson, he was sort of the corrective.
for Buckminster Fuller, for me, because Fuller was so totally an engineer, what Bateson would call a kind of an input-output approach to understanding and solving everything.
Whereas Bateson, he was aware that every system is basically self-referential to some degree, which that's the kind of thing Fuller would never take on and hierarchically organized at a very deep conceptual level and that we are always immersed in the system that we think we're isolating something from.
And so Gregory was wonderfully dubious about engineering solutions, about naive intention.
And it went a little far in the mystical direction for me.
And so there were later corrections over that for me.
Because I've kind of gone a mystical route back when I studied comparative religion at Stanford.
And that turned out to be eventually nonproductive.
And I think counterproductive often that people go down a mystical or romantic route.
But that was all stuff that I was kind of working through.
And I got to know Fuller, I got to know Gregory Bateson very well.
I never met Wiener.
But I hung out later with people like Marvin Minsky
and other part of the MIT intelligentsia
who are really still my frame of reference.
So in 1968, the whole Earth catalog,
you have the view that what the world needs
is a photo of the Earth appearing to be one thing.
What is the photo we need today?
Well, it's interesting is the various photos of Earth.
And one of the things I learned early on is people fixed on basically two photographs,
the Earthrise photograph of the moon in the foreground, which was powerful because he saw
in one frame and in one frame of reference a dead planet and a living planet.
And boy, the difference is striking.
And you're glad that you're on the living planet.
It sort of incites you to want to make sure that it stays living.
And then there's the so-called blue marble where the photograph is taken with the sun behind the spaceship behind.
the camera. And so you see there's no crescent, there's no gibbous earth, it's just a big round
earth like people expect, which of course is the rarest photograph you can take. You have to be
right in line with the sun to get that image. But there were thousands of other photographs of
Earth. Soviets took some. We took countless ones. And eventually I found their drawer
at NASA headquarters in Washington, where they all are. I just paged through her and, you know,
picked out these amazing images and started using them and later Whole Earth catalogs.
I think one of the best things that's happened in this last century is that outside the
planet perspective.
And every astronaut comes back with stories of how amazing it was, even though they're trained
for and prepared for being amazed.
They are then really amazed by getting out there.
The photograph is just a glimpse of how powerful it is to be off planet and see the
planet as a whole. So that, I think, will continue as we explore the rest of the solar system,
mostly with robots sometimes with humans. Lately, I don't think we're going to the stars, Tyler.
I think it's too far. What do you think? I don't think we are either. I think it's impossible.
Because of the distance. And the wear and tear on bodies, even if you freeze them.
You know, physical space is not what is scarce. So why not Nevada, I like to say.
Okay, right. How about space colonies? Where are you in those?
right outside the earth, I think there will be some, but I've not for a long time been very
optimistic about space as the future of progress. I just don't see what's the scarce input out
there that we really need. So if you think, well, the earth is so crowded, we must go elsewhere.
But if you've lived in New Jersey or the Netherlands or, you know, South Korea, that hardly
seems like an imperative. Exactly. I think I share that. I think it'll be basically voluntary
and of interest. You know, science fiction makes great.
of the generation ships and so on. But Kim Stanley Robinson recently did a book called, I think,
Aurora, where basically makes your point and my point, that even if you get people out that far,
the wear and tear on the social fabric, on the biology on everything, you cannot isolate a very
complex biological system like humans for that long and expect to get anywhere that's useful.
What was the nature of your mother's interest in space and space colonies?
She seemed almost obsessed with it.
Yeah, she was a vassar girl who was a liberal and probably a not very liberal town in northern Illinois.
And she kind of fell in love with Varna Gunnbaum and very early space stuff.
And so she got all the Willie Lay and the other kind of popular colliers and Saturday Evening Post magazines.
and books that came out at that time,
Lodding, going to the moon, going to Mars.
She loved all that stuff.
Later in life I got to know an astronaut named Rusty Schweiger,
and we went to see the movie The Right Stuff.
My mother and Rusty, this astronaut, went to that movie together,
and that was a real connection for her to the dream.
You think the images of the Navy UFO videos will have cultural resonance
the way the image of a single whole Earth did?
Oh, I don't track on that.
at all. But evidently you do. What do you see there? I see a very serious puzzle that our military
and CIA cannot figure out at all. I suppose I think there's a modest chance. It's an actual
alien drone probe. Probably not a very interesting drone probe, just sent out to follow us and then
run away. I've given that 5 or 10 percent in my estimations, but I find it very puzzling. It forces
me to think about our world a lot, that we could have multiple sensory sources of data,
measuring an object that moves very quickly, and we simply cannot figure out what it is.
And it dates back to at least 2004, possibly much longer.
So to simply say, oh, it's the china or it's laser-induced plasma, a lot of explanations
just don't quite seem to cut it.
Good.
Well, it keeps some mystery in your life.
There's things like that that I sort of just shrug and adopt a two-minded approach.
Might be true.
Is it something I can do anything about it?
Is it something that's going to affect me?
If not, I'll just, you know, stay open to.
further news, but in the meantime, kind of shrug at it.
Because one of the things you probably notice is you get older is you've seen a lot of
illusions come and go, and I've seen a lot of the world as doomed.
Illusions come and go.
You know, Y2K, when we've got all the computers are going to stop
because they don't know how to handle the year 2000 and stuff like that.
On and on the peak oil and one thing after another.
So I'm trying to encourage a certain sense of perspective
and realism about when people say the world is going to end because of this, that, or the other thing.
Humanity's been around for a long time now. The world's been around for a long time now.
Biology is incredibly resilient and robust. And I think the world-ending trope is just a waste of mind.
When you put out the whole Earth catalog, how much did you think about the font and style of the early editions?
Well, I stole everything. The typeface, the Windsor typeface I used on the Whole Earth catalog that's sort of become now the typeface of hippiedom, apparently, when I look at some of the nostalgia stuff. That was the L.L. Bean type font that they used. As I admired, I was building on my father's interest in mail order catalogs, and LL Bean was one of the ones we really liked. And there was kind of a straightforward New England honesty about it that I really appreciated.
So you would have a leather belt in there for $2.25.
The write-up on it instead of, you know, this will make you more of a man,
I just said, it's a pretty good little leather belt, but $2.25.
And that kind of pragmatic clarity and succinctness,
took us a model of how to review things in the Whole Earth Catalog.
Do you know what I think of when I see editions of that catalog?
I wonder, how did you manage to typeset the whole thing?
A couple of things made possible self-publishing a book that ambitious.
And one of them was the IBM Selectic Composer.
It was the golf ball, a striker, where you could take one golf ball
that had all the letters on it in a particular size in font
and put on another one, italic or whatever.
And so you could do very complex typesetting
with basically a kind of a jumped-up electric typewriter.
And so that led us do really good compositing right there.
in real time. And likewise, photography, getting half tones, there was a brand new device that
would let you make half tones. And lots of times I just clip stuff out of the magazines and books
and just pasting it down and then pasteups. We originally used beeswax in a big old frying pan,
a electric frying pan with melted beeswax and just paste that and the type of something and slap it down
on the page. That was how we laid it out. How is it that the whole Earth catalog ended? It was a bestseller,
had big cultural impact, reached Steve Jobs.
Why did it stop?
You could have just sold the rights and sold out, right?
I stopped.
The original one was 64 pages and $5.
And the idea was each one would be bigger and cost less and be better.
And that went on.
And as you can imagine, we were doing this every six months.
I didn't know about taking breaks or vacations or things like that.
So I was bearing down pretty incessantly on this thing,
getting it right and getting it better each time and all of that.
I went down my own kind of asymptotic black hole, and one writer said by the end of the whole
earth catalog, Stuart Brand was a rack, and I was a rack.
So rather than just, you know, retire and hand it over to somebody else, again, kind of with an
artist impulse, I wanted to see what happens if you take a full-blown success and just stop it
and see what happens.
Turned out wrong hypothesis was that others would immediately step into that very obvious opportunity
in the market and fill it perhaps better in many different ways that did not happen. But what did
happen is as soon as I named the last whole earth catalog, that turned out to be the best
possible marketing device you could ever come up with. And calling something the last anything
turns out to, if it's honest, which it was at the time, it gets people. And so that book became
bestseller, it got the National Book Award. It was a big deal. And in fact, two different
Broadway producers got in touch with me saying that they wanted to do a Broadway play titled Last
Hall of Catalog. And with, you know, people playing volleyball between scenes and Paul Simon was going to
write the lyrics and songs. I later asked Paul Simon really truly, said, yeah, well, went away like
things do. But I was a real downward slope. I had a marriage falling apart my fault. So it was a wreck for a few
years. Why aren't the top entrepreneurs of Silicon Valley more interested in the visual arts?
You have been your entire life, but it seems they are not. Why is that? I have no idea. Hippies in
general were not very good on the visual arts except for comics, Robert Crom and so on.
We were terrific on music. I'm no good on music at all, but I was trained as and then worked as
a graphic photographer. I studied graphic design. I'd even studied magic.
magazine design back at Stanford and then took a bunch of classes afterwards at San Francisco State
College and in the San Francisco Art Institute. So I think the exception there is Steve Jobs, who
basically studied visual design somewhat at Reed College. And when he became fascinated by
design as design, that really played out with Apple. And I'm glad I got Apple stock because I knew
Steve Jobs.
So what do you think is missing in Silicon Valley because of this lack of interest in the
visual arts? Jobs aside. Well, you and I both know Patrick Collison. And I see Patrick
because whenever anybody says something kind of disparaging about Silicon Valley and tech
brohs and so on, I think of Patrick can think, well, that's bulls. Because he's sort of,
personally, the one I know of the current set. You know, I've had some people who got in touch
instead of admiring things like Mark Andreessen, Jack at Twitter, and Chris Cox at Facebook,
I'd feel some personal connection there, but what I'm gibbering about here is I have no theory
of Silicon Valley at all, Tyler. What's yours? Well, Stripe Press books are beautiful. I would
stress that. Maybe there's something about the engineering mindset that in some ways runs counter
to the aesthetic mindset. They may come together with psychedelics, but not in the arts.
Okay. I got sure to buy that. And that would be.
a program for, I think, engineering, and you see a fair amount of at MIT of trying to keep their
engineers from being too mentally siloed into just solving problems with numbers.
Now, you first took LSD, if I understand correctly, as part of a military experiment.
Oh, not really military. There was probably military money in it.
What led you to take that plunge? Someone said, do this. It wasn't a known thing back then.
Why did you do it? I wouldn't have done it. Well, you know, I was young careless. I was jumping out of
airplanes and climbing things and doing all the dangerous stuff that you do when you're young
and witless. But that one, I think, was an outgrowth of the Bay Area, Mid-Peninsula T groups that
developed the kind of confrontational personal interaction in group sessions that developed in the 50s
at Stanford and in that area. And that led to a very transformational approach to ideas of human
potential and so on. When Esselan Institute got started.
started, I had already been doing seminars of my own with students from Stanford at Slate's
Hot Springs. It later became Esplan. I got to be friends with Mike Murphy when he and Richard
Price were starting Eseline Institute. So all of that human potential stuff was looking at religion,
looking at meditation, looking at drugs. We were, you know, reading about Aldous Huxley and what he
got from peyote. And I was hanging out with peyote Indians a lot increasingly in the 60s.
and the LSD was just starting to turn up.
It was still legal through the early 60s,
and there was a so-called therapeutic model,
which is now completely revived.
It's interesting that it had to go through a long hiatus,
that psychedelics can be useful as mental and significant personal therapy.
And the idea then was, remember before that,
when psychoanalysis first came along,
all the anthropologists felt they had to get psychoanalyzed.
And this was sort of a similar thing,
that, okay, there's this new therapy, and it's supposed to be used on sick people,
but if it works for sick people, let's try it on healthy people, see if it makes him even
healthier. And so that was kind of the theory we were going on. As it happened in that set
and setting, as they said, of therapy, I basically flunked out. It was just a not very pleasant
long episode. But later on, I had personal LSD experiences that were transformative,
including one that got me going on, what a difference, the photograph of the whole?
whole earth would make. As you know, San Francisco is a relatively small city. So why did it,
and not Los Angeles, become the center of hippie culture? That's a fair question. Los Angeles never
had 49ers. Los Angeles never burned to the ground. So San Francisco, you know, the Phoenix city,
they still say sometimes, has waves of boom and bust. It's not particularly infrastructural.
Los Angeles is completely based on oil and then water infrastructure. And major ship
even more than the Bay Area. And there's a frivolousness that the Bay Area is good at. It has two
universities of significance with Stanford and Cal. I mean, so does L.A. But L.A. does not feel like a
college intellectual world, whereas San Francisco somewhat does. And so Silicon Valley really is
an outgrowth of the industrial park at Stanford that was invented by one guy. And then those things
is, you know, take off. Economically, they feed themselves. And then they begin.
become their own storm system. There's a lot of people like me from Midwest to come to places like
California. And one of the things I sort of saw, because I spent time on the East Coast and prep school,
and then in New Jersey is a military officer, and then a lot of New York is an artist. And the sense
I got is that people go to New York and L.A. to be successful. And, you know, if you can make it in
the big apple, you can make it anywhere, and that sort of thing. Nobody says that about San Francisco.
They never have, and I bet they never do. People go to San Francisco.
It's just going to be happy by and large.
And then that leads to this sort of devil-may-care of creativity,
which is actually good for business startups of certain kinds,
especially ones that have a low threshold,
like anything digital or anything online.
So screwing around is not only possible but encouraged,
and screwing around is the way you discover the new useful things in the world, I think.
So I knew by the time I graduated from Stanford that I wanted to do,
stay in the Bay Area. I went away to be in the Army, and then I came right back.
What was the creative peak of Jefferson Airplane? I've no idea.
You didn't know them? Well, no, who I knew was Grateful Dead pretty well.
You know, the trip's festival that I organized with the Mary Banksters with Ken Kesey's group,
Grateful Dead had just renamed themselves from the Warlocks, and they really took over the
three-day show that we did. People just wanted to dance their guts out all night long, and
the dead had the way to do that and all the other artistic stuff that I brought in there was
sort of interesting, amusing frippery, but the dead really won the day. And so that's how I got
to know them early on and stayed somewhat in touch through the years. What did you learn from
David Crosby? Not a thing. You know, I love the songs. We apparently had this conversation. I guess
you've been reading John Markov's biography. Of course, yes. It's a good book. And what I remember is being
shamefully out of it when I talked to David Crosby. People would show up at the Whole Earth
Truckstore where we had this kind of retail outlet for Whole Earth Catalog stuff and wanted
to chat with me. And like Philip Morrison, a fantastic book reviewer, Scientific American,
showed up like that. And David Crosby showed up like that. I guess Hugh Romney must have brought
him. So, wavy gravy. And lost to me, maybe David remembers the conversation.
What is it about the early days of San Francisco culture that most people still do not know?
Which early days? There's a lot of them.
Say the 1960s, hippie days.
I don't think people know the extent to which the mob took over.
At first pornography, there was some really, really creative pornography coming out of basically
hippie artists having a good time and turning the camera on.
And then the whole dope culture, no hope without dope.
everybody was selling or buying marijuana and these other drugs from each other.
And then one of the guys named Super Spade, his arms and legs cut off and his torso was hung out by
Ocean Beach from a tree.
It was sort of knowledge of, well, those amateur days of drug sales are gone now and the
big time players are here in town and do not with us.
That was the end of that.
And everybody was selling dope and sort of learned a little bit of business from doing it and
went into business, legitimate business.
and they were good at it.
And so hippies became basically a very good commercial startup folks,
partly because of that sequence of experiences.
Is Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry a good movie?
I don't remember.
Clint Eastwood is an incredible movie director, except for this last one.
You know, it shows San Francisco and I think 1971,
and the city is supposed to be falling apart.
Maybe in some ways it is, but what's striking to me is how much cleaner San Francisco
was then the now, and also how few new buildings have been put in. It looks almost like the same
city, except for parts of downtown. Well, that's interesting. You saw it again, racially? So what happened?
About a year ago, during pandemic, he gave it another watch. It was a good and I think respectable
dialogue that was set in motion between a kind of conservative approach and a probably excessively
liberal framing that was going on at the time in the Bay Area. And so, you know, make my day,
it became a kind of a conservative line.
Given your long history with San Francisco,
do you think you see its current problems differently,
since you know so much of the past?
I think I don't see them clearly enough.
I think Patrick Collison has a lot more substantial to say on this issue
because he's in the thicker,
but he's got to figure out where workers live
and where his place of business is and so on.
I think a major shift that occurred
is, to me, a completely understandable retreat
from Silicon Valley from the Mid-Peninsula.
I lived there when we were doing the Whole Earth Catalog.
It's actually a kind of a horrible place to live compared to Marin County, where I am now.
The Marin County being north of the Golden Gate and Silicon Valley being south of San Francisco.
And so with Salesforce, Twitter, with these various web-based organizations that moved into the city and built their headquarters there and tried to house all the workers there and so on, that is a disgust with suburban working and living.
and a seeking out of downtown.
You've seen it in Seattle with Amazon, you know, staying in downtown Seattle and so on.
And because I've been thinking about, writing about and researching about cities from about 1998 on,
that all seemed completely sensible to me.
Cities are highly centriple.
They attract talent.
They attract all these things.
And so Jeffrey West's book scale in the studies going on at Santa Fe Institute on how cities
accelerate everything or the major economic engines of any region or any culture they're in.
If you're ambitious and talented, you're going to go to a town in the Bay Area, town of San Francisco still.
Now, in the last two decades, or maybe even a bit more, you've become very interested in this idea of the
long view. There's the Long Now Foundation, trying to take a very long-term perspective on things,
this attempt to build a clock that will last for 10,000 years. But if I look at your own career,
A lot of the most influential things you have done have been quite finite.
So you ended the whole earth catalog, the merry pranksters with Ken Kesey, right?
That ended a long time ago.
The online bulletin boards you were a part of, which were very important for the early years of the internet.
Those in their earlier form, those are gone.
So why seek durability if your own influence has typically come through the supposedly transient?
Well, some of us just getting older.
and I developed when I was studying buildings and then later writing about civilization
and this kind of pace-layered understanding that part of what makes a dynamically self-stabilizing
and learning system is that some parts of anything complex and dynamic move very fast
and some parts move very slow.
And we tend to pay attention to the fast parts like fashion and commerce
and not pay attention to the really powerful parts like nature and culture.
And once I sort of had that perspective, and plus I'd been a professional futurist for 20 years with the Global Business Network,
where I saw that people doing scenarios would treat 25 years as a very long time frame.
Military we did scenarios for it would sometimes grow up 50 years.
And I thought, you know, considering the level of stuff going on, changes going on, it's understandable people who pay attention to the short term.
But meanwhile, these basic dynamics of the really slow stuff is where the power is, calls for a reorientation of focus.
And so when Danny Hillis, computer scientist MIT, I've gotten to know at the Media Lab, wrote an email saying,
I'd like to build a clock the scale of Stonehenge that keeps a very long-term time and ticks once a century, bongs every thousand years, sent that out to everybody.
nobody responded but me. And I responded, said, let's do it. I think because of the stuff I just
mentioned, there's realizing Danny's framing of it was, this was all through the 80s and 90s,
everybody referred to the future as the year 2000. And Danny was growing up during that time.
And he said, so for my entire life, the future has been getting shorter by one year per year.
That just not seemed like a healthy frame of mind for a civilization that wants to be healthy to have.
and what could pop through that membrane of the year 2000.
And so coming up with the idea of a very durable, basically perpetual motion machine of a clock.
The clock, by the way, it is not trying to be built.
It is built.
It's almost completed in Texas on Jeff Bezos' mountain range.
It's not a perpetual motion machine in the sense that it takes the temperature difference on the very high mountain it's on between night and day
and runs an air bladder that then provides energy that keeps the clock knowing what time it is for
thousands of years. Would the younger Stuart Brandt say in his 20s be disappointed in the future that
has come to pass? Oh, mixed bag. A whole lot of stuff developed fantastically, I think. As a biologist,
I've loved seeing biotechnology, finally relink with field biology, conservation biology. I'm involved in that
doing co-founding, revive and restore to use biotech for the help of conservation wildlife projects.
So that's played out pretty well. By and large, when I was optimistic about stuff,
I turned out to be right. And when I was pessimistic about stuff, I turned out to be wrong,
often enough that it has kept optimism alive. And right now, the political conundrum of the United
States has me worried and I don't know what to do about it. And I can see that cyber war is going to
play out in some ugly ways and already is to a large extent. And I don't see automatic solutions
to either of those or ones that I can help with, except that focusing on long-term frame, the long now,
we describe it as the last 10,000 years and the next 10,000 years. So there's the now that is an hour
long, the hour long, the hour that is two weeks long, the year in the middle of. And then there's
the somewhat longer now that is 20,000 years long. And I think human civilization is early.
and needs the perspective of that is a foundation for thinking about everything.
Do you look much to science fiction for ideas and inspiration, or not?
Yeah, I mean, the new Neil Stevenson termination shock is brilliant in terms of really
playing out the geoengineering schemes that are out there.
Neil did fantastic research on it, better than most people I know, including many professionals.
And likewise, Kim Stanley Robinson, with the Ministry for the Future, again, beautiful research on
what overheating wet bulb high temperatures can mean for human survival in places like India.
And then playing that out in kind of politically astute terms, this is some of the best thinking
going on in society.
And the science fiction has always opened that door to thinking about the future in creative ways.
Marvin Minsky, who I knew at MIT, was always quoting Isaac Asimov, and he just said, look, these are
artists who thought about this stuff a lot, and I paid close attention. I feel the same.
How did your year working with California Governor Jerry Brown make you less libertarian?
Hasn't California governance turned out to be a big mess?
No, California governance was and still is pretty damn good.
What I learned is that the libertarians I knew, and they sort of clustered around the whole earth catalog,
because in a sense whole earth catalog, it was saying, you know, this is right after Jack Kennedy
said, ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.
We sort of said, ask not what your country can do for you. Do it your damn self.
And so there was a do-it-yourself thing that translated for many who say, screw the government.
And then the whole hippie period was counterculture, and a lot of that was played out politically in the new left and so on.
So working for the governor's office in Sacramento and wearing a three-piece suit, one of the things we started that I started was a water atlas of California.
And then the research that was set in motion from the governor's office to bring about this actually quite beautiful and somewhat influential book.
California is a hydraulic civilization, as you know, we move our water around and that's what makes
agriculture the main event here. It's what makes Los Angeles possible and so on and so forth.
I saw the people at Water Resources Department. I saw what they did all day. And we would show up saying,
look, we need some data on the Smith River, which is the only undam river in California. And, you know,
what's the patterns of flow in that? How deep your records go? And somebody's,
deputy assistant would say, we thought you'd never ask. And they had been, you know, carefully
keeping this data and trying to correlate it with things and keep it up to date and the various
computer systems and so on for decades. And the low-paid, high-quality, selfless work that these
folks were doing. And in the governor's office, you always knew who was Republican, who was a Democrat
and why and all this kind of stuff. Down in the departments, nobody knew and nobody cared.
There were Republicans and Democrats scattered it throughout the whole system, and it was a part of the ethic of that part of government to just not be political in the divisive sense at all.
And so I was seeing something that the libertarian folks I knew knew nothing about and were not the slightest been interested in.
They weren't actually interested.
I think you're somewhat of a libertarian or interested in how government works.
Most of the ones I knew were not.
and they were interested in how election works,
and they thought the absurdities that they saw in elections,
and electioneering, was government, and it's not.
And so I finally got the perspective of what is now vilified
as the deep state.
In the deep state, at least in California, is damned impressive.
And so I came out being way less interested in who was the governor.
I basically came out and said, well, Jerry's a good governor as near as I can tell,
but then later, Arnold was fortunately there was a pretty good governor.
Reagan had been a pretty good governor, and the realization I had is Donald Duck could be governor,
and it wouldn't be the end of the state.
Trump finally proved that you could have somebody as a president in that case.
It could be really destructive, and the deep state was not as successful as it usually is of working around it.
But that's reflective of a whole bunch of other stuff going on that I do not comprehend, frankly.
Now, you've written a good deal about architecture.
Do you view the forthcoming smart home as a blessing or a curse?
It's always been a curse.
The Internet of Things is making stuff a lot more convenient and a lot more handy,
but people are banging away on making home smart for decades and decades.
I think one of the things we'll be figuring out increasingly for the next few decades
is what things to hand over to robots and what things not to.
And there'll be lots of stuff that surprises it.
It's just great that robots are doing that.
Frankly, I love the autopilot on the Tesla drive.
I don't use it to get all the way from here to there.
I use it so I don't have to pay close attention to traffic, just peripheral attention.
And the difference there is fantastic.
But trying to get a whole bunch of things coordinated around shortcut convenience,
that is kind of a long cut to finally program it all so it works.
It kind of winds up with those remote clickers for television.
They have too many buttons, and people finally learn the three buttons to do what they
mainly want and pay no attention to the rest. The younger members of the family sort them all out
and become adept at it. And then the next generation of excessive choices comes along and they don't
know and they've got to ask their kids, how the hell does this complex thing work. So I think there's
kind of an endless quest for complete handiness. I think generally people who go for simplicity
rather than robotized complexity in terms of personal living or happier.
And if we, in proper Hayekian fashion, want more of an organically evolving architecture,
what can we do to get there?
Well, I wrote a whole book called How Buildings Learn.
It's probably my best book, and certainly most successful.
It's now treated as a classic and taught in classes and so on.
And it's basically that building is not something you finish, a building is something you start.
The building is an ongoing process.
that is in perpetual dialogue with the users of the building and the uses of the building.
And it's standing in the real estate market and so on.
And professional high-concept architecture is sort of allergic to all of that.
And they want to make work of art or signature pieces of something or other with the look
of that particular architect.
And they hope that the functional will work out.
So buildings that tend to go best are ones that are really durable.
like the old brick factories of the East Coast or some of the tilt-up concrete spaces,
what I call low-road buildings.
For example, at Stanford when I was there,
there were temporary buildings left over from World War II.
At MIT, the Rad Lab, the Building 20,
was where most of the real, well, much of the real innovation
that happened in curriculum, in science, and engineering happened in the trailers.
It happened in Building 20.
And because those were buildings that nobody cared about, you could do anything you wanted in there.
You could adapt the building, whatever kind of research you were doing.
It was cheap.
And you could throw things together and have them fall apart and not care or have them take over the world because you'd started cheap.
You were able to get there without having to over-invest.
And so buildings that adapt well over time are basically built strong for certain reasons
and then stay strong as the decades go by and the different uses go by.
In the book, I wound up sorting out various things that have those qualities
and things that don't.
I had a chapter on maintenance because buildings are sort of the most maintenance,
needing and maintenance defying things that we build.
And so there's a constant dialogue between keeping up with that
and letting it go and then cycles of real estate value that go in and out and so on and so forth.
I don't have a short answer to your question of what makes up.
more adaptable, but really looking at what buildings do over time sure helps.
Why does Japan fascinate you so much?
They're the most advanced material culture in the world, I think.
You know, how to wrap five eggs and things like that are a matter of enormous interest in craft.
And I'm paying attention to them now because my friend Kevin Kelly, who's traveled all over Asia,
including all over Japan, he said he's looked and looked for a broken roof tile in Japan,
and he can't find it.
And there's an attention to detail of caring about the physical essence of stuff that the Japanese are surpassing it.
On the other hand, there's a lot of so screwed up in Japanese culture.
The cities are a mess.
The buildings, most of them are kind of haphazardly built.
I first fell in love with Japanese architecture through a book written by a Japanese home and its surroundings, 1896 by a New Englander.
And he just spelled out the traditional Japanese home and the Ginkan and the use of the tatami mats
and the relationship with the garden and the Benjo and all the stuff in the bathroom.
And the aesthetic practicality of it just knocked me out.
I actually got to stay in the house like that in Kyoto for a season one year and it was fantastic.
So Japanese craft at its best, it's just the best there is.
In what year will we bring back the Willie Manet?
What's your point to estimate?
Certainly in this century, I think we'll have what looks like and acts like
Willie Mammoths back.
I would like to see them back in large herds in the Siberian and in the Northern Canadian
steps doing their old job of eating the grass and therefore causing the grass.
Grazers make grass.
And so the so-called mammoth step, which was once the world's largest biome,
reaching all the way around the North Pole, the Arctic and sub-Arctic.
Climate logically is much more stable.
but mainly it was the Serengetia in the north.
This was where endless large animals
and incredibly rich animal and vegetable ecosystem
compared to what's there now.
That's a case where humans, to some extent,
climate, but mainly humans,
got rid of all the megafauna by killing them and eating them,
and that keeps happening.
And as they come back,
the way the elephants and rhinos and whatnot do in Africa,
they will bring back the mosaic landscape
that is drastically richer, and by the way, much more stable in terms of climate.
And what's stopping us from doing this within the next, say, 20 years?
It might happen in the next 20 years.
The outfit called Colossil has decided to put in serious commercial money with George
Church at Harvard and others that are working on bringing genes from the extinct mammals
so we know what they are now because of paleogenetics
and putting them into Asian elephant genomes and start bringing back the archivalry.
capability of the blood system and the thick hair and the rest of it that makes it possible
for an elephant to not only survive but thrive in the far north. As it happens, Asian elephants
already live in Canada and like to break through the ice in the pond or go swimming. They wouldn't
make it through the long arctic night, but they already like the cold when you're big and massive
cold is not that harsh an event. So bringing grazers and megafauna back to the far north will be
practical and beneficial. It's already going on at this place called Placetocene Park in
Forest Northeast and Siberia. To close, I have just a few questions about the Stewart brand production
function. Are you ready? Sure. Now, you're well into your 80s, correct? Correct. I'm 83.
So what is it you do to stay so sharp? Pick parents with a change that to make that possible. That's the main thing.
And what do you do after that? And after that, frankly, I don't understand people who go,
quiescent intellectually as they get older. In a way, getting older, you get more control of your time
and you have more savvy on how to do things and how to make things happen and who to call
when you have a question and all that stuff. And so your ability to investigate stuff,
and especially with the Internet now, is going up all the time. And why would you let curiosity
fade? And many don't. You've probably noticed that people you know in their 70s are different
from people that you knew in their 70s when you were a little kid.
It was over.
They were settling down to play golf or whatever it was.
And probably a whole lot of people you know in their 70s and 80s are hard at it.
In some cases, just hitting their stride.
And that's a change that has occurred in my lifetime that is a total treat.
And as near as I can tell, that one is permanent.
I think that's with us now.
People will live longer and thrive longer.
The health span is now being referred to instead of lifespan.
and health span, meaning how long you can be really engaged and productive and alive to things.
And I think that's very good in terms of long-term thinking because people who are older are, half a longer now.
Their future may be getting shorter, but their past is personal and significantly long.
They've seen a lot of stuff come and go, and they've seen a lot of skills that possibly they had time to pick up that they can now deploy.
and all of that it makes at least the kind of intellectual life that we both seem to enjoy that much richer.
And so long as your genes are supporting your brain cells and whatever other medications and stuff we can do,
I mean, medically, it's possible for me to carry on in ways that would not have been possible a century ago.
So there you have it.
We are living longer and we're finding ways to keep the human body and human brain functioning better longer.
So why would you not take advantage of that?
How is giving away money kept you creative?
I'm not that good at it.
I've now gotten to know a number of philanthropists who are really good at it, and I know that I'm not.
At one point, there was a guy who was getting into philanthropy because he started eBay, and I said, if you like, I can try to find some good things that I know about, that maybe you don't.
That would be good to put your money into.
He said, sure, fine, here's X amount of money.
Go ahead and make good things happen.
And I worked on it for about six months and just failed utterly.
It was not good at that.
So I would love to see a whole lot more really creative philanthropy.
This is another thing that I think you and Patrick Collison, like you've done with your fast grants,
can help move much more creative philanthropy.
One of the things I've noticed all my life is that philanthropy should be the most creative thing going.
It's got to be more creative than government.
It's got to be more creative than anything the commercial entities can do,
and that it is not a waste, especially in America where the most philanthropic society
in the world, and yet it's not as creative as it should be.
Asked question. How do you decide what to pay attention to?
Well, it's a little different than Kevin Kelly's. When you get Kevin Kelly on, he'll tell you
it's what he sees that nobody else is doing that only he can do, and then he'll pay attention
to that and try to make something useful happen. I don't care as much about whether other people
are doing something. What I'm looking for is things that will, in Gregory Bayton's terms,
make circuit with the world.
And you see some of this in software development
where people talk about the minimum viable product.
And you start to get a user base
that you can co-evolve with
and develop your product,
so it's actually being useful to them.
And Amazon talks about the minimum lovable product
where it's not only useful, it's compelling,
and that you don't let anything into the world
unless it has its lovability quality to it.
I'm a little earlier in the process
of I'm just feeling around for things
that feel like they're overlooked.
The whole earth catalog,
do it yourself was something that middle-aged gentleman
who'd retire is what they were doing in their garage
and was kind of looked down on catalogs,
we kind of looked down on,
and basically I just took those two things
that were regarded with disdain
and turned them into something that turned out to be powerful.
Likewise, right now I'm focusing on maintenance,
partly because I noticed myself and everybody else
are reluctance to think about maintenance
because it's a chore,
It's a nuisance. It's a problem. There's no kind of economic, a short-term value in it, and, end, and, and, and. Because with the Long Now Foundation, we're looking at becoming a long-term institution to sort of stay with the clock. That's based on noticing the difference between Stonehenge, Egyptian pyramids, and the East Age shrine in Japan, where nobody knows the hell of Stonehenge was really for. And we know a lot about pharaeic religion with the
pyramids, but it's dead as a doorknial. And yet, Ease shrine expressing Shinto culture in Japan,
is as alive today as it was 1500 years ago, and it is the beating part of Japanese culture.
So what's the difference? And the difference is, I guess, maintenance, and it's institutionalizing.
We've got a lot more respect for institutions and trying to understand their institutions.
And Alexander Rowe is the director of the Long Now Foundation, is,
actively funding and pursuing the study of longevity in institutions, what actually makes it
works, what makes them earn their longevity and keep it in a changing world. Well, the whole
concept of maintenance, I think, is in the thick of all of that. And so I'm spending all my time now
in this room with all these books, sorting out how to think about maintenance in general.
Stuart Brand, thank you very much. Thank you, sir. That was fun.
Thanks for listening to Conversations with Tyler.
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