Between Common Sense and Belief

I was doing the evening dishes when my daughter called from the other room. Her voice was tense. She asked me to come read the pop-up message on our computer. It alerted us to a variety of viruses and other dangers the machine was encountering because she had clicked on a site offering information about Siberian huskies.

The notices looked a lot like the kind we’d seen on our PC—and it took days of frustration and work to clear up that mess. But this was a Mac, and we’d specifically bought it because we wanted better protection against hackers and all the forms of inconvenience that malevolent cyber criminals can unleash on you.

I read the notice carefully and held my breath and then … clicked “OK” on the suspicious message that claimed it would protect the computer. I almost expected the Blue Screen of Death or a flash and an explosion. But the machine unfroze and resumed functioning normally, and I hoped I hadn’t just begun a long series of events that would lead to identity theft, credit card fraud, and general misery.

At some point in a risky situation, after you do everything you can to prevent bad things from happening, you simply move forward. I may look back on that moment as a critical misstep and regret it, but our antivirus software was up to date, and all I could do was remind my daughter to be careful about the Web sites she visits.

The next morning I got up and began my daily rituals. I made the kids’ breakfasts and lunches. I kissed my family and walked out to my car at a casual pace, because for once, I was a few minutes ahead of schedule. I swiped my hand across the dew on the back window to see if it was frost—it was not. I unlocked the car and inserted the key, but the engine didn’t catch. I tried again. And again. And again.

My irrational belief in a stable and unchanging world began to crumble, and a chain of uncontrollable events unfolded. I would not make it to work on time. I would miss my morning meeting. There were choices to be made: tow truck or jumper cables? There were financial implications. We were saving for a vacation and had to budget for oral surgery for one daughter and braces for the other. We were seven weeks from Christmas. Clouds were gathering over this Monday morning.

Our daily routines lull us into believing that we exert much more control over our lives than we actually do. An automobile is a very complex machine, and yet I believe it will always work well. To manage my risk with this tool, I usually bring it to a mechanic who knows how to keep it running smoothly. Unfortunately, it was long over due for some maintenance work.

I went back into the house—a house that I gratefully noted was heated and comfortable. My unnaturally energetic son was ready for school. I raided the envelope that we diligently tuck cash into for car maintenance—there was enough to cover a minor repair.

Back outside, I put the car in neutral, pushed it into the street, and positioned it for a jump from our other car. My hands were cold, but the sun was up. It was the second sunny day in about 30, and I appreciated the warmth.

I checked the battery and the indicator said it was fine. I suspected it was the fuel pump or the starter switch, but because I know little about cars, these terms hold about as much concrete meaning to me as Zoroastrianism or credit default swaps. However, I am an optimist, and I believe in all sorts of irrational things including miracles, aliens, and ghosts, so with misplaced confidence, I turned the key one more time—and the car started.

As I drove to the repair shop, I thought about the workings of computers and cars and life. I have no reason to be so confident that the rituals I perform today will still serve me tomorrow; that what I believe is true this morning will be true by noon. Our entire fragile world could be terribly altered by some disruption or unforeseen loss that irrevocably changes everything.

But the car was running, now. I would get to work late, but everything would be okay, for the moment.

Once you accept that there are many aspects of life you have no control over, it’s easier to stop worrying about it. We derive a sense of security from the precautions we take, but you must strike a balance between paranoia and naiveté. In general, those precautions are common sense. Put your wallet in your front pocket if you’re in a large crowd. Don’t open email attachments from people you don’t know. Frequently save your work on the computer. Back up your files. Don’t hand out your credit card number. Don’t talk to strangers. Floss your teeth. Eat healthy. Exercise. Wear sensible shoes. Each day is filled with both positive and negative forces, and the best you can do is be vigilant and alert so you can reduce the opportunities to take a bullet.

That night, I stepped off the train at my stop and watched the moon rise above the clouds on the horizon. I still believed my car would start, and the moon would set, and tomorrow would be another day.

Paul D. Pfeiffer is the managing editor of EFFECT magazine.
Contact Paul at ppfeiffer@larsonallen.com or 612-376-4686.