Markus Stocker bio photo

Markus Stocker

Between information technology and environmental science with a flair for economics, the clarinet, and the world of soups and salads.

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Moon. Sister, I heard voices telling you carry things on your shoulders that are too big to fail?

Earth. My darling, I’m sorry you got to hear the news. Please don’t worry. Indeed, some believe in infinite growth so much that others believe their mirage is too big to fail, or to let fail. We have here a concept, a formula to compare growth between different groups. I believe, it is called GDP.

Moon. Ridiculous. But explain me, how come some believe in perennial growth?

Earth. Humans never stop to amaze me. Honestly, my sister, we should exchange seats one day; you never stop to learn, laugh and weep from where I’m sitting. Humans recently figured how to tap into the wells of sunlight’s energy, the bright rays that, concentrated, somehow turn dark. I think, only our ever shining brother can tell you how it works. Humans call it oil. They say, you need 100 hands working as long as it takes for me to dance a full circle around my center to yield the energy equivalent to 1 liter of the black wonder. So, from one moment to the next, they got the gift of uncountable hands. With energy, though, the story only begins. Ever since the first drop of the liquid gold, every other or so product humans invented contains some drops of it. So, they grew and grew and grew, first in the number of unreal hands then in products and then in real hands that consume the products. Now they believe it can go on and on and on.

Moon. Absurd. I think, I should borrow your seat one day; from here, things appear all blurred like your beautifully glowing white cloud patterns this morning, if I look at them without my glasses.

Moon. Sister, I have another question but I’m afraid it is personal.

Earth. Honey, you dance with me ever since the beginning of our time; just ask.

Moon. I heard, some people are believed to be too dangerous to release?


Earth. This home nurtures an ancient ideal, far older than the thirst for the black gold. It is called the Rule of Law. It is supposed to be a necessary condition for democracy, the famous form to govern that ought to give the power to the people. The believe that some people are too dangerous to release seems to be sufficient to betray the ancient rule, the foundation of democracy. The fear of those believed to be too dangerous to release seems to be sufficient to let some choose to die without having the frightened obliged to explain why.

Moon. How convenient.

Earth. I know.

Moon. I love you.

Earth. So do I.

(My gratitude to Giacomo Leopardi for the idea of heavenly bodies having a conversation. I borrowed the idea; in no way I want to measure this with his art. Also based on “U.S. May Permit 9/11 Guilty Pleas in Capital Cases,” a Wikipedia Article and other articles on the subject, the heredity of thoughts by economist and author Herman E. Daly and HOME, a film by Yann Arthus-Bertrand.)