I’ve been interested in time for a
long time. I’ve enjoyed books about time, such as The Time Machine by H.G. Wells (published in 1895, perhaps the
first popular time-travel story); A Brief
History of Time by Stephen Hawking; and The
End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov. I’ve delighted in reading poems about time
like “Time Is” by
Henry Van Dyke, “On Time” by John Milton
and “To Think of Time” by Walt
Whitman. Movies like “The Time-Travelers’ Wife,” “Interstellar” and “About Time”
have enchanted me.
The nature of time has been
considered by eastern and western philosophers and scientists for ages. One
interesting hypothetical concept is Time’s Arrow, the "one-way
direction" or "asymmetry" of time. Arthur Eddington, a British
astronomer, developed time’s arrow 91 years ago and it remains an unsolved question.
He argued that time’s arrow, or direction, can be determined by studying the organization
of atoms and molecules. Physical processes at the microscopic level are
believed to be either entirely or mostly time-symmetric. If the direction of
time were to reverse, the theoretical statements that describe them would
remain true. But assessing time’s arrow at macroscopic levels it often appears
that this isn’t always the case: there is an obvious direction of time.
One of the arrows in the quiver of
time that’s most interesting to me is the casual arrow of time. A cause always precedes its effect: the
causal event occurs before the event it affects. For example, even though birth
and death are both passengers on time, birth always follows a successful
conception and not vice versa. Thus causality is intimately connected with
time's arrow. Not everyone always follows the causal arrow of time; witness
analyses that have succumbed to the cum
hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy.
Economists and time get along
uncomfortably. We fastidiously never state a specific number of years that distinguishes
short run versus long run trends. Other than to assert as John Maynard Keynes
did: in the long run we are all dead. Instead, when pressed by a student,
client or Congress-person to differentiate between the short-run versus the
long-run effects of economic policies (e.g., price controls, fiscal and/or monetary
procedures) economists say that in the long run, all factors of production
(land, labor, capital) are variable. The short run is different because at
least one factor is fixed in quantity or price. Such an answer is seldom satisfying
for the questioner. So it goes…
In the early to mid-20th century
one of the hot topics of macroeconomics was business cycles. A nation’s business
cycle is the upward (expansion or growth) and downward (contraction or recession)
movement of real gross domestic product (GDP) over time, around its long-term
growth trend. During this period many economists hypothesized about how long a
macroeconomic business cycle actually was, and what factors most influenced it.
Arthur Burns and Wesley Mitchell took an encompassing view in their 1946 book
Measuring Business Cycles saying the
business cycle’s duration can vary from more than one year to ten or 12 years.
The Russian economist Nikolai Kondratieff posited in 1925 that the period of a cycle ranged from 40
to 60 years. Agreement among economists about the correct duration of the
business cycle has yet to ensue; we’ve moved into other fields of debate. The
current business cycle’s period of sustained economic growth is over nine-years
long. When will it end? No economist knows.
In recent times, some people have
said that time’s been speeding up due to improvements in technology that
increase how much we can accomplish or produce in a specific period of time. Economists
have a concept describing this occurrence – higher productivity. In 2Q2018, annual
labor productivity
increased a haggardly 1.3%.
Beyond labor productivity, it
seems that digital technologies have speeded up not just work-related
activities but social ones as well. Exhibit L for this improved social “productivity”
is a cover story
in The Economist, “Modern Love.
Dating in the digital age.” Around the world, about 200 million people now use
dating apps and rely far less on friends and family.
Unlike digital dating, physicists
note that the Earth's rotation
has been slowing slightly over
time. Hence, a day now is longer than in the past. This is due to the tidal
effects the Moon has on Earth's
rotation. Atomic clocks show that a modern day is longer by about 1.7
milliseconds than a century ago. Do you thus feel any older now? I didn’t think
so.
Financial analysts tend to pay far
more attention to three-month intervals of time called “quarters” than almost
any other time period. The financial world is filled with a plethora of
time-dependent factors like price-earnings ratios, debt-to-equity ratios, EBITDA
(earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization) and working
capital ratios (current assets/current liabilities). These and other statistics
are dutifully reported quarterly and in annual 10-K reports.
At the opposite end of economists’
and financial analysts’ time spectrum is that of geologists. Geologists’ views
of time aren’t bound by minor temporal concepts like quarters, business cycles
or unspecified short- and long-runs. Nope, their time periods consist of
millions of earth-years covering all of this planet’s 4.54 billion year history
(rounded to the nearest 10 million years, which is a great many quarters).
Let’s take a geologic look at the
history of California; way before the Gold Rush. Like all other land on Earth
California has moved quite a bit during the various paleo-geologic ages. Look here to see how it and
its neighbors, once a very long time
ago part of Pangea, have traversed the globe, and continue to.
For most of its 500+MYA (million
years ago) history
what’s now California was covered by deep ocean waters. To set the stage for California’s
recent (geologically-speaking) rise above water, the Mesozoic Era (250 – 65
MYA) saw the merging of the ancient Sonoma
“island arc” of land with the North American Plate to its immediate east. This
merger did not require FTC approval and extended the western edge of the North
American Plate into what’s now central Nevada.
The creation of dry-land
California happened in the Late Cenozoic Era that began 20 MYA. The North
American Plate was overriding the spreading center between the Pacific Plate
and the Farallon Plate. This spreading center migrated eastward causing massive
crustal extension and lifting beneath what is now the Great Basin Region (which
spans nearly all of Nevada, much of Oregon and Utah, and portions of
California, Idaho, and Wyoming).
The western edge of the North
American Plate then overrode hotspots in the Earth’s upper mantle that resulted
in extensive volcanism in the Yellowstone, Columbia River and New Mexico
regions. It also created the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains that powder-skiers
now enjoy. Remnants of this volcanism include Mt. Lassen, Mt. Shasta, Mt. St.
Helens, Mt. Adams and Mt. Rainer. By the way, changes in plates’ boundary
configurations created the San Andreas and other regional fault systems about
30 MYA.
The San Andreas Fault is about 800
miles long, stretching from the Mendocino coast south to the San Bernardino
Mountains and the Salton Sea. Researchers have measured identical rocks offset
by 150 miles across either side of the fault. For example, the volcanic rocks
in Pinnacles National Park south of Monterey match volcanic rocks in Los
Angeles County. Geologists think the total amount of displacement along the
fault since it formed is at least 350 miles.
On the west side of the San
Andreas Fault sits most of California's population, riding the Pacific Plate
northwest while on the east side the rest of North America creeps south. The
Pacific Plate is moving northwest at about 3 inches each year, and the North
American Plate is heading south at about 1 inch per year. Those inches add up
in geologic time. Assuming (heroically) this rate of movement continues
unabated, scientists project that Los Angeles and San Francisco will be
adjacent to one another in approximately 15 million years, thus making
the commute between Santa Monica and Berkeley a breeze.
The San Andreas Fault system moved
a maximum surface displacement of about 20 feet in 1906, causing the great 7.9
earthquake, and resulting fires, that destroyed more than 80% of San Francisco.
More recently the San Andreas Fault caused the 6.9 Loma Prieta earthquake that
played a small part in the 1989 A’s-Giants World Series. This picture I
took shows a fence over 40 miles south
of San Francisco straddling the San Andreas Fault in Los Trancos Open Space
Reserve that was displaced by the 1906 earthquake.
Geologists estimate that over
10,000 earthquakes occur each
year along the San Andreas Fault, but just several hundred are greater than
magnitude 3.0, and only about 15-20 are greater than magnitude 4.0. Is this
supposed to be reassuring for those of us who live along this long, sinuous,
moving neighborhood? Are you ready for the next “big one”? It’s only a matter
of time.