The Power Went Out, and So Did We!
Our Dependence on Technology
Suddenly, everything went dark.
Blindly reaching for familiar light switches and buttons that no longer worked, panic crept up my spine. I had never realized how profoundly light dictates life in the modern world.
Amidst the loud winds of tropical cyclone Belal, I found myself sitting on the sofa in the dim, candlelit room of my sister, Beryl. We huddled around a small radio running on old batteries while paying close attention to the most recent cyclone bulletin. Despite the gusts of wind and rain battering against the windows, we remained fully absorbed in the news of the impending storm. We learned that the cyclone’s intense rainfall and strong winds had already caused devastating flash floods, sweeping away hundreds of vehicles in surging waters and leaving approximately 50% of households in the country without power.
The flickering flames of the candles cast eerie shadows on the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of melted wax and burning wicks. I clutched my dying smartphone, frantically searching for a Wi-Fi signal. Despite the relentless battering of the roof by the massive camphor tree branches outside and rain seeping through the windowsills, I was still hoping to connect with the outside world.
And yet, a few hours ago, the night had started ordinarily enough as I was sitting in a comfortable setting, leisurely typing away on my cell phone. Meanwhile, Beryl was comfortably lounging in her cozy bed, streaming movies, and expressing her discontent: What has happened to the world film industry? They seem to need to remember the art of producing good food-themed movies these days!
Cyclone Belal had whipped up heavy rains and howling winds, but our lights stayed bright, reassuring me we’d make it through unscathed.
However, that sense of normalcy vanished the moment the power lines went down.
Fumbling Through Dark Unfamiliarity
As darkness fell upon our house and the surrounding neighborhood, it became painfully clear that we were woefully unprepared to navigate even the slightest disturbances in our modern lifestyle. My smartphone’s backlight gave me temporary relief. But relief morphed into dread when I saw it had a 23% battery and was draining fast! How does one preserve power when one’s sole light source relies on continual use? Nevertheless, I carefully swept my phone’s beam, searching for flashlights packed away, useless without the recharging capability they once held.
Despite not finding much (the LED flashlight had stopped working), I managed to locate a few matches and a couple of emergency candles that had been stored in the back of a drawer. It’s a good thing we had them there, as we often experience cyclones in our area. Our elderly relatives have always advised us to “be prepared,” so knowing we have something to rely on in an emergency is good.
At least someone had their priorities straight.
We fought our way through the primary task of lighting a few candles in the room. The small flames danced shadows across the damp walls. But, despite barely penetrating the darkness, the delicate flames were the lone consistency, reminding me the storm would eventually pass. Without our array of gadgets, I gained a whole new understanding of how previous generations habitually lived and thrived with far fewer creature comforts than we deem essential today.
After a few minutes, my phone’s battery level dropped to zero, and the device winked out. At the same time, I noticed that Beryl’s battery charge did not promise much either. It wouldn’t last long, and we had to endure an entire night. I couldn’t believe how reliant I had become on my phone and electric lights! It didn’t seem easy to function without them, even for a few minutes.
An Endless Parade of Problems
Over the next agonizing hours without power, I couldn’t help but realize how much I rely on modern technology. It was hard to imagine a world without electricity. I couldn’t switch on lights, use appliances, regulate the temperature, communicate with others, or entertain myself. I struggled to stay connected to the small portable radio. I constantly checked for updates on when the power would be restored. When I was not monitoring weather reports, I meticulously scoured the freezer in pursuit of the next meal to satisfy our hunger. Nonetheless, I couldn’t shake off the lingering concern for the perishable goods at risk should Cyclone Belal choose to prolong its stay.
As I settled into my bedroom for the night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of isolation as I watched the solitary wick of my candle flicker. Stripped of modern conveniences like TV, internet, and phone service, I was alone with only my thoughts. I could not contact anyone and was hesitant to use my e-reader due to its limited battery life, and reading a physical book in low lighting was impossible.
My mind drifted to childhood as I wrestled against boredom in the dim light. Lying in bed, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fond memories of my grandparents, who could find endless entertainment even without electricity. Reflecting on my childhood, I was transported to those cherished moments with our wise and beloved grandmother. We would eagerly gather around her, captivated by the enchanting tales she wove, often staying up well past bedtime and drifting off to sleep easily.
It’s fascinating to observe how children nowadays constantly seek stimulation. They have unlimited on-demand entertainment—video connections with remote friends, constant interaction with touch screens, and flashing imagery. And yet, kids today hardly go nine minutes without seeking external tech stimulation. They struggle with boredom, have shorter attention spans conditioned by frequent switching between apps and videos, and have less interest in real-world connections.
In the past, children had more unstructured playtime with friends, read books to spark their imagination, had greater responsibilities around the home, and spent more time in nature. Parents didn’t provide as much access to constant digital entertainment and news. Children learned skills like cooking, cleaning, and building with their hands, which improved their patience and resilience. In the past, families spent their time playing board games together instead of each member being engrossed in their own digital world. Kids did not experience the same level of instant gratification as they do now, which allowed them to develop perseverance and work through struggles. The tight-knit community connections were formed easily, and the lack of stimulation allowed children to enjoy simplicity instead of constant novelty.
I am concerned that modern technology has created an attention deficit that makes it difficult for this generation to cope with slower stimulation and unpredictability. We have access to a wealth of information. Yet, we still feel dissatisfied and need more of the independence and resilience that challenging times once instilled in us. Past generations coped better with storms and outages, as they had learned resilience, developed close community bonds, and knew how to have fun without relying on excessive technology.
The Critical Creature Comforts We Take for Granted
As an individual of the modern era, I greatly depend on the favorable outcomes of technological advancements, especially when we are free of natural calamities like Cyclone Belal. However, the convenience we gain comes at the cost of increased vulnerability in our daily lives. The improvements made in weather-tracking technology have undeniably contributed to enhancing storm safety. However, the inability to charge our devices, which provide crucial access to data and communication, leaves us feeling utterly powerless. Upon deep contemplation of my unfulfilled aspirations in the dim glow of a candle, it became abundantly clear that what was once considered a luxury has now become an indispensable requirement.
The systems we rely on for guarantees, such as electricity, communications access, climate control, and food preservation, are incredibly delicate. When these systems fail, we often feel bewildered and unsure of what to do.
Many people need help understanding how much our daily operations rely on fragile systems that lack contingency measures. These systems are susceptible to failure, affecting our ability to function effectively. A single example of such a failure is the critical shortage of power, which can render many of the solutions we rely on entirely ineffective.
People often need to fully appreciate just how much our daily operations rely on precarious systems and lack contingency measures. These systems are often fragile and susceptible to failure, affecting our ability to function effectively. One example is the critical lack of power that can render many of the solutions we rely on entirely ineffective. Insufficient power renders advanced technology useless, leaving us vulnerable and unable to complete daily tasks. Therefore, we must invest in robust and reliable systems that can withstand unexpected challenges and disruptions to continue operating effectively and efficiently in all circumstances.
When Everything Went Dark, An Appreciation Grew
As I sat in my bed, staring at the half-burnt candle in a state of forced simplicity, I began to appreciate the hardships that past generations had to endure regularly. I also deeply admired my grandparents, who, despite being in their late seventies, eighties, or nineties, still stubbornly refuse most technologies. They see innovation as a welcome tool but continue to live sustainably and maintain self-sufficiency, not giving in to convenience. Their wisdom serves as a reminder for me to appreciate progress but not to hand over my basic functioning because of it.
And yet, as the hours passed, enveloped in stifling darkness, I yearned for the light that a mere flick of a switch could provide. I longed for the comforting hum of the refrigerator, a reassuring sign of preserved food and cool water. The unexpected tranquility of the absence of constantly buzzing devices was becoming quite remarkable around me. It felt inconvenient, but the lack of constant stimulation revitalized my creativity in ways that hours of Netflix consistently failed to achieve.
As the cyclone (now accompanied by thunder and lightning) raged outside, beating against the window panes, I huddled in isolation, scribbling the draft of this article into a notebook by candlelight. I enjoyed the feeling of holding a pen and paper in my hand. Besides, despite the facilities offered by the revolutionary AI writing tools, pen and paper use continues to offer numerous brain benefits and enhance creativity. The ambiance created in my bedroom that night was the perfect setting for inspiration to strike.
When pale daylight finally flooded our soaked property, I beheld the true impact of Cyclone Belal as I looked outside. The driveway was submerged under a pool of murky water. The storm had mercilessly battered the once-sturdy trees that lined our lawn, leaving their broken branches lying around like a battlefield. The potted plants I had so lovingly tended to be now unrecognizable, their delicate blooms dried and weighed down by the relentless rain.
But those were merely surface issues that could be easily remedied. Far less straightforward to address was my realization of the profundities we tolerate in the name of progress. My desperate craving for renewed electricity was about restoring normalcy, not electricity itself. What I yearned for was my familiar and unsustainable way of life.
Rethinking Our Relationship with Technology
Storms have blown through many countries for centuries, yet only now do prolonged outages upend everything. This is because we have become too reliant on modern conveniences and have lost our self-sufficiency along the way. While we have enjoyed the benefits of global trade and electricity, we have also given up the ability to cope without these comforts. But when these support channels get interrupted, we suddenly find ourselves unable to perform even the most basic human functions without feeling deprived.
We should strive to incorporate sustainable practices from the past into our current technologies. We should ensure reliable infrastructure from institutions and prepare for unavoidable outages. It advocates for building resilience as individuals and communities rather than relying on unsustainable systems for security.
Our institutions should provide us with reliable infrastructure, but we should also prepare for outages, as they are unavoidable. Instead of sticking to unsustainable systems, which give us a false sense of security, we must build our resilience as individuals and communities.
Despite the benefits of modern technology, it’s crucial to remember sustainable practices from the past. It is important to have reliable infrastructure, but it is also necessary to prepare for potential disruptions and focus on building individual and community resilience instead of relying on unsustainable systems for security.
My wake-up call was that, despite technological advancements, we have lost core competencies that cannot be replaced by apps or devices. The lack of self-reliance and communal reliance cannot be compensated for by upgrades. Outsourcing basic life skills to gadgets makes us vulnerable when they become inaccessible, making us vulnerable in the face of technological advancements.
Preserving Our Humanity in an Increasingly Fragile World
Tropical Storm Belal blew away in a few days as infrastructure steadily rebuilt. But the personal shifts lingered long after the frightening flood waters dried up and dead power mended. I vowed to reassess my relationship with technology going forward rather than unconsciously outsourcing my basic functioning. Embracing moderation and balance when adopting innovations, building backup systems for sustainability, and intentionally safeguarding my self-reliance.
Now I smile when Grandpa hands me a new six-pack of candles or tells stories of hauling ice blocks before refrigerators existed. I admire my ancestors’ fortitude and self-sufficiency in a continually unpredictable world. The utter foreignness of their self-sufficient existence compared to my experience during an extended power outage reveals just how much I’ve come to depend on external systems and constant convenience.
If there is one thing I learned during those dark and still hours without the modern conveniences of electricity, it is that humanity thrived long before its invention. If I find myself in such a situation again, I know that the light within and the community’s supporting hands will sustain us.
Even if that light starts as a single flickering candle...
