This week's "What If . . . ?" column renounces the cynicism I have shown in the past. Today we examine how the world would be different if familiar, comforting, homespun proverbs were literally true.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
IT WOULD BE THRILLING, wouldn't it, to look up one day and realize that the most hopeful of proverbs became literally true, with every cloud in the sky framed by a magnificent nimbus of pure silver. People all over the earth — Aleutian fishermen, Bedouin tribeswomen, French harlots, Donald Trump — would walk out of their homes to witness the miracle. Then, pretty soon, we'd all start dying. Badly.
Gaseous silver would liquefy and fall as rain, contaminating our water. Silver is a heavy metal, and, like all heavy metals, it is toxic to humans. In the case of silver, death would be preceded by a condition known as "argyria," in which the skin and eyeballs turn a bluish gray. Humans would begin to resemble the classic image of the Martian. Then would come heart, brain, kidney and bone disease, followed by confusion and dementia, which would be a blessing, really.
A watched pot never boils.
I HAD DARK SUSPICIONS about what this would mean but did not trust myself, so I consulted a physicist. It was not as bad as I feared. It was worse.
The power grid in most civilized nations depends upon the conversion of an available energy source — coal, oil, natural gas, atomic fission — into mechanical power capable of turning a turbine to create electrical energy. This is done, in almost all cases, by boiling water to create steam. The steam furnaces are nothing but "pots" that are watched by technicians. No boiling, no steam. No steam, no power. Global anarchy. Holland, with its windmills, becomes a superpower.
But maybe you will argue that a generating plant is not really a "pot." Fine. Doesn't really matter. The generic "watched pot" would become the most destructive force in the history of mankind. It is unlikely that civilization could withstand it.
If the act of watching a pot of water prevented it from actually boiling, here's the scenario: By continually watching a pot of water on the stove (or having teams of people — all enemies of freedom — taking turns watching it sequentially) the water would never evaporate. It would simply continue to store more and more energy.
This is not me speaking; it is Professor Richard Berg, of the University of Maryland physics department. That pot, he said, could become so filled with potential energy that it would far surpass any diabolical source of destructive power devised to date. That pot — continuously watched — could be loaded onto a plane and dropped into an ocean. Watched by the bombardier all the way down, the pot would keep its hellish payload until it disappeared beneath the waves. At that point, suddenly unwatched, it would release enough energy to create a tsunami of devastating strength. Imagine, if you dare, the effect of coordinated pot-bomb attacks on America's Eastern Seaboard. Me, I'd prefer to go on to the next question.
A cat has nine lives.
PARENTS, DO NOT let your children read this answer.
By "having nine lives," this proverb really means "surviving eight deaths." Ergo, bringing one's beloved family cat to the vet to be put down — nine consecutive euthanasia procedures — would become prohibitively expensive, except for the very wealthy. Most of the rest of us would have a dreadful choice to make: We could watch our pet suffer through not one slow, painful death, but nine. Or, more likely, our compassion would prevail, and we would take matters into our own hands.
We'd try to be humane, but the reality of the situation would create an unimaginable horror. Sickened by each murder, we would turn in desperation to another method in a confusing, heartbreaking frenzy of savagery fueled by love. Drowning! Clubbing! Drano! Our homes would become charnel houses as humanity's better nature warred with its worst, and we deadened our souls to deal with it.
The pen is mightier than the sword.
ARMS RACES BEING WHAT THEY ARE, the nations of the world would compete to attract and keep the most persuasive writers. National treasuries would be exhausted not for defense, but for maintaining Literary Superiority. Freedom of the press, as we know it, would cease to exist, because writers — as instruments of national security — would be in the employ of governments. So on one hand, totalitarianism and the resulting enslavement of the masses would take hold worldwide. On the other hand, guys like me would be fabulously wealthy babe magnets. So I'm okay with that.
