Most all technological innovations are alleged to have radically
altered civilization. The printing press, the steam engine, the
television, the personal computer, the automobile — the list is
endless. Of course, whether one considers these changes for the
better depends largely on one’s Weltanschauung. The radio,
for instance, can be seen as a delightful invention — an
accessible device for playing joyful music. Or, one might look upon
it — as I do — as a plague of biblical proportions, as a vile
disseminator of noise pollution and a destroyer of the social
medium of live, do-it-yourself music-making. Usually, the truth
lies somewhere in between.
Both cases can be made with regard to the efficacy of the
air-conditioner, an appliance much prized here in the
drought-stricken, unseasonably hot and muggy Mississippi
Valley.
What can possibly be wrong with an air-conditioner, you ask? If
you have to ask, you are doubtless unfamiliar with the vast
literature of the
anti-AC’ers, a small, but dedicated group who disdain
air-conditioning for its devastating effects on the environment and
on communal activities. “Saying goodbye to AC means saying hello to
the world,” writes Stan Cox, author of
Losing Our Cool: Uncomfortable Truths About Our Air-Conditioned
World. Others see the machine as a metaphor for the triumph of
all things artificial. “Darkness and obscurity are banished by
artificial lighting, and the seasons by air conditioning,” cried
Gilles Ivain in his “Formulary
for a New Urbanism.”
For such as these, Willis Carrier’s invention was the coup
de grâce for our Front Porch Republic. Before
air-conditioning, the storyline goes, everyday life was more
convivial and Americans were more neighborly. Homes were built with
porches, where our ancestors rocked in the warm evenings and
chatted happily with neighbors strolling casually down
tree-canopied sidewalks. Before air-conditioning, people knew how
to relax and took long summers off in the country or at the
seaside. At least the wealthier people did.
Few would deny that with the advent of the air-conditioner we
have become more indoor-oriented and more isolated from our
neighbors. We know the names of all the characters on the evening
television shows, but not the names of the family living across the
street. The air-conditioner provides us an excuse to be idle.
Before the air-conditioner, it was often too hot to remain indoors,
so getting out and participating in one’s community — softball,
PTA meetings, or just fishing with a friend — was a necessity.
Needless to say, without air-conditioning there would be no
shopping malls. No summer school. No steel skyscrapers. No sorrow.
No death.
The Air-Conditioned Nightmare Theory, however, has at least one
major flaw. Because of their expense, air-conditioners were turned
on mostly in summer, so nothing was to prevent Americans from
returning to their old front porch-sitting ways the rest of the
year. Nor would the possession of air-conditioning have prevented
Americans from inviting friends over to sit in their artificially
cooled living rooms to chat and play cards, if that’s what they
really wanted to do. No, it seems more likely that the oft-maligned
television had more to do with the decline of socializing and civic
associations than AC.
THAT’S A RELIEF, because I would hate to think ill of my
air-conditioner. When I first moved in into our 120-year-old
inner-city, two-story brick home with my lovely neo-bohemian wife,
the joint lacked — among other amenities — air-conditioning. And
Trina had no intention of turning our home into a giant Frigidaire.
I can put up with a lot of the eccentricities of inner-city living
— the crime, the litter, the droopy drawers — but I cannot abide
St. Louis’ hellishly humid summers — not without central air. Even
my wife’s neo-bohemian friends visiting from mild San Francisco and
Portland allowed how they could never live in the Midwest without
air-conditioning. That clinched it. Last summer we purchased two
Carriers, one for upstairs and one for the downstairs.
Besides making me a whole lot easier to live with, the
air-conditioning comes with an additional benefit. Since the AC
(and the fear of burglars) forces us to shut our windows, street
noises are now at a minimum. Goodbye brawls and boom cars. Hello
sweet, sweet sleep.
I’ve read enough Jane Jacobs to know her views on the importance
of vibrant city streets. (And, trust me, there is no more vibrant
residential street in America than ours.) I am even willing to
grant she may be right about the importance of having busy, lively
streets — up until, say 10 p.m. After that, I’m just grateful to
have my new energy efficient AC to block out all that wonderful
street life.
