Ignorance is not an excuse

Critical thinking cannot be replaced by machines, they are simply tools

“Abiding in the midst of ignorance, thinking themselves wise and learned, fools go aimlessly hither and thither, like blind led by the blind.” -Katha Upanishad

“Indian shed?” I was viewing the homestead I bought the year previously for the first time, the deceased farmer's son was giving me the tour.

“ayup, that’s where dad kept all the bits” “I can see what it’s being used for, why has it got that name?”

So, a bit of background might be useful here. The homestead I had purchased was in the middle of nowhere, the nearest village to which our land was legally bound had a population of 13 and this is where the post office was.

The town is called Endiang, Alberta. Its only claim to fame, or infamy, is if the good ole US of A and Russia were to launch ICBMs at each other, they would collide over Endiang, Alberta.

No sense in being on the perimeter of the blast and living through the eternal hell of nuclear winter when you can go out with a huge bang!

The man I was speaking with had never been more than 100 km from the place he was born and had never met a native american. Political correctness had not reached this place.

What the hillbilly meant to say is the building before me once belonged to a Native American who had lived in the nearby village until his death. I am not sure it belonged to him as in ownership, perhaps he just lived in it. Either way, it was the residence of the last Native American in the village.

After his death, the tiny home was sold off at auction and it ended up where I now lived on a little farm. This building was placed on the property long before my time, long before the man telling me the story existed. Ignorance and prejudice good bedfellows do make.

It was watertight, barely, and full of all the things on a farm you keep around for “one day” and are rarely if ever used, yet still require protection from the elements.

Its most useful purpose during my time on the land was to house a weather station on the roof transmitting wind speed and direction, along with barometric pressure, and temperature to my kitchen, just to verify what I saw out the window. Which reminds me of a Captain I once sailed under.

Settle in dear reader, need a fresh cuppa?

On some trips, the ship and its crew aimed to provide navigation training to Maritime Surface Officers. We cruised the coastline for six weeks at a time while they trained. With plenty of technology available the students often forgot or weren’t even taught the basics, paper charts, and the sextant were two the XO made sure he taught.

What stands out in my mind is the students, mostly my junior in age, absolute reliance on technology and protocol. Allow me to illustrate.

It was a blustery day, and the coastal defence vessel we sailed did not heavy seas enjoy, nor was it built for it. A lot of equipment was taking a pounding from wind and sea. One of the young bosuns had just entered the bridge from the upper deck, flags had to be changed, even in bad conditions.

You see, the thing about bad conditions is, the conditions are bad, working in bad conditions isn’t fun, young people like having fun if it isn’t fun they lose interest quickly, even if they are paid to be interested.

This fellow had incorrectly secured the halyard, the wind took it and sent it flailing about the upper decks. The wind for the moment was in our favour as the radar antenna was forward, the halyard aft, but this could change in an instant.

I called out to the officer of the watch, I needed permission, technically, to shut down the rotating antenna before the rope snarled and snapped the antenna from its mast.

“Stand by? Seriously? You need to call the captain?

“Maam, either we shut the radar down now, or in a minute it will shut itself down, and never work again, explain that to the captain if you have time.”

Geesh!

The captain was a good trainer, always ensuring the students learned their lessons, even if he was sometimes harsh. I had ways of messing with the ship's electronic systems, telling the navigation computer we were going backwards, sending an alert from the depth sounder saying we were approaching ground, modifying speed displays, well, you get the idea. The captain used these as training aides, helping students quickly go to plans B and C…

unless they can’t.

During a scenario I altered the navigation computer to display a course and heading for shore, the alarm went off and the student froze in front of the computer display, baffled, unsure of what to do, convinced we were on a collision course he panicked and froze.

Clearly, without malice, the captain broke the reverie by shouting, “look out the fucking window!”

Training. We did a lot of that in the Navy, Floods, fires, combat, HASMAT.

They were usually rigged, Kobayashi Maru, no-win scenarios. The point was usually to imprint the ability into a habit, of making quick, educated guesses, stem the damage, escape and survive. Think of it like this.

A windstorm blows a branch through your reading room window, without a magic wand you cannot repair the broken glass, however, you can cover the hole with cardboard and tape, keeping the invasion of the outside weather to a minimum. The same principle applies on a warship. A missile puts a hole in the hull, no magic wand, water is pouring in at great pressure, stem the flow, reduce the pressure, and buy time.

During training, as in everyday life, we all had scenarios to role play, like cadet James T. Kirk, but without the ability to influence the outcome by changing the programming.