What You Don't Know

How many of those who bought their homes in a quiet residential area of San Bruno knew that they were on top of a 30-inch natural gas transmission line that would someday blow up and obliterate much of their neighborhood? Do you know what's underneath your feet right now?

It's called infrastructure, and it makes much of what happens in our lives work. This kind of infrastructure is ugly. It's best when it's invisible, and when it's working the way it should, we don't even know it's there. We flush a toilet, and the business we just did is carried out of our lives by a system invisible to most of us. It's, uh, not our business anymore. It just disappears--unless, of course, there's a sewer backup or something. In Christchurch, New Zealand, a 7-point earthquake heavily damaged infrastructure, making toilets unflushable and water undrinkable. All of a sudden, the residents had to think about things they never spent much time thinking about before.

A number of years ago, I remember a big to-do in a Southern California city where I worked about a truck that was going to be passing through the area on a nearby freeway. As I recall, it was carrying nuclear fuel rods. Local officials were all steamed up about it. Quite frankly, I don't remember what happened, but I think the truck passed through without vaporizing any cities along the way.

A big fuss was made about that shipment, because we knew ahead of time it was coming. But how many thousand gallons of unknown unpleasantness pass through the area unannounced on the same freeway every day? And how about the railroad? I remember a train wreck in that area involving a tanker car that had some unpronounceable chemical on it. Fortunately, it didn't leak. Had it done so, 25,000 people would have had to be evacuated immediately. But freight trains carrying nasty stuff travel the same route daily, without incident. We’re surrounded by potential danger, whether we think about it or not -- but it almost always stays potential.

This doesn't relieve those who operate the trucks, trains and pipelines from maintaining them and government from seeing to it that the maintenance is done. The bottom line is, we seem to need this unpronounceable stuff somewhere in our lives, even though we don't know what it is or how we use it. But after a while, things in the system that deliver them call attention to themselves and require repair or replacement -- and more often, of course, as they age.

I guess that's why we have skin. If we didn't, we'd have to look at a lot of less-than-photogenic parts of the human body -- yucky unless you enjoyed dissecting frogs in biology class. We don't have to know what those parts are or where they are -- we just expect them to work, silently and invisibly, if at all possible.

But is there such a thing as too silent and too invisible?