I’ve got mixed feelings about robot deliveries.
Have you seen these things?
These automated machines, owned by the company Starship Robots, are making pizza and grocery deliveries in Tempe. They’re pictured here stationed in front of a grocery store, ready for pickup. I’ve also seen them traversing the sidewalks en route to their destination.
They don’t seem very efficient. Sometimes they sit idly at a crosswalk, waiting three or four lights before finally gaining the courage to “walk.” Last week I saw a robot, seemingly intoxicated, bumping repeatedly into the curb, struggling to stay between the lines of the sidewalk.
The cameras are kind of creepy, peering out from all directions. Are they recording me? I don’t know. One time I charged at one full speed on my bike, veering away at the last minute, but the thing didn’t even flinch.
If you’re wondering how the goods stay safe from bandits, according to their website, the “cargo bay is mechanically locked throughout the journey and can be opened only by the recipient with their smartphone app.”
These robots are just one example of a tech boom happening in Arizona.
Intel and Motorola were early pioneers of tech-investment in the state, and many new companies are following in their footsteps. The video-conferencing company Zoom recently announced they will build a research and development facility in the Phoenix area. This news came shortly after Taiwan Semiconductor Co. announced a $12 billion investment in the Valley. Electric car producer Lucid is currently building a manufacturing plant in Casa Grande.
The autonomous vehicle movement had a setback after a self-driving Uber car killed an Arizona pedestrian in 2018, but experiments are continuing nonetheless. Autonomous vehicle company Waymo — a subsidiary of Google’s parent company Alphabet — has raised $3 billion in capital investments in the past few months. After taking a short pause due to Covid-19 concerns, the company has resumed testing of their self-driving cars in Phoenix.
The willingness of companies to move to Arizona is thanks in no small part to our technical education system. From specialized university campuses and community college programs down to the numerous STEM-focused feeder schools, Arizona has become a training ground for the scientifically inclined.
As a practitioner of the social sciences, though, I sometimes wonder if our technology is moving faster than our civic and social structures can withstand.
We’re already seeing disturbing outcomes from our fractured digital media landscape, and companies like Facebook don’t even pretend to be concerned about the divisive forces of their algorithms. Now, the pandemic is accelerating disruptive trends already in motion by way of automation and artificial intelligence. While we’re suddenly forced to physically distance, we’re adopting tech solutions that will be hard to roll back.
These disruptions are shining a spotlight on tensions and inequalities already present in society. Call them pre-existing conditions. Not everyone can work from home, and job layoffs are more drastic for low-income earners. Not everyone can learn from home, because digital schooling requires home stability and access to high-functioning technology.
Case in point: While robots delivered groceries in Tempe, across the state there began a more low-tech food delivery service.
In Arizona, nearly 600,000 students get free or reduced meals each day at school.
When schools closed down in March, families continued to rely on those meals. In addition to converting their entire academic operations to digital platforms, school leaders had to find ways to provide for the physical sustenance of their students.
At the public charter school where I teach in South Phoenix, administrators wore masks and stood outside the school building every day, overseeing food delivery to any cars and families who arrived. In some areas, demand was so high that schools had to scale back their regular food service, passing out just one meal a day or checking ID’s to ensure their own students were fed.
Due to continued economic fallout and job losses in the short-term, the number of students relying on free and reduced lunch will undoubtedly increase.
Those jobs might not be coming back in the long-term.
Sure, our economy has gone through technological transformations before — in the past, we’ve managed to create new categories of jobs to keep up with those lost to innovation. But in the age of AI, there’s no predicting how things may unfold.
We’re trudging forward into a post-pandemic world, handcuffed by the continued presence of the virus, while simultaneously bracing ourselves for an unpredictable technological disruption.
We’re entering uncharted territory.
Although there’s nothing certain in these times, we’d all do well to embrace the humanity in ourselves and others. We’re more than digital faces on someone else’s screen. Reality is always more complex than what’s being shouted onto social media. Far-reaching technologies don’t change the opportunities and responsibilities of living together in a physical community.
Living History
A reader asked if this newsletter was named after “Pineapple Express,” which is apparently a term that describes wet weather rolling into San Diego from Hawaii. The answer is no — I had never heard of this term before, except as the title of a slapstick comedy movie about marijuana.
This newsletter wasn’t named after the Pony Express, either, but it did get me thinking about the short-lived mail delivery service, and how it may have impacted early Arizona history.
I didn’t find much about influences on Arizona history, but I did find this lively description of an express rider by Mark Twain from his 1872 book Roughing It:
He rode a splendid horse that was born for a racer and fed and lodged like a gentleman—kept him at this utmost speed for ten miles, and then, as he came crashing up to the station where stood two men holding fast a fresh, impatient steed, the transfer of rider and mail-bag was made in the twinkling of an eye, and away flew the eager pair and were out of sight before the spectator could get hardly the ghost of a look.
The Pony Express didn’t last long — it was essentially a stop-gap for speedy communication to the West before the telegraph and railroads were built.
But it turns out, the Pony Express still lives on to this day, in a re-enactment put on each year by the Gilbert Rodeo, with riders carrying physical letters 150 miles across the state.
And that’s not even the only Pony Express still operating in Arizona.
The Hashknife Pony Express has been delivering mail for the past 60 years, wisely riding only during the winter season. Here’s a clip from their website:
Neither rain, sleet, nor dark of night can stop the Hashknife Pony Express. Each January/February for the last 61 years, the old west is brought to life as an elite group of riders thunder through Arizona. This exciting event is the oldest officially sanctioned Pony Express in the world. Each rider is sworn in as an honorary mail messenger braving weather, terrain, and modern-day obstacles to deliver the United States mail.
They claim the longest-running contract with the U.S. postal service and deliver around 20,000 pieces of first class mail per year.
The fate of the postal service is very much up in the air right now, and it’s possible that we’ll someday look back with nostalgia on all physical mail delivery like we do the Pony Express. Until then, it’s nice to know that I can still send a message without my data being gobbled up by tech companies.
As for Cholla Express, it just struck me as a cool-sounding name. I’m still pondering the significance behind it.
Rural Arizona in the Spotlight
Wickenburg is one of the oldest towns in Arizona. When a prospector struck gold there in 1863, it would have been a good bet to become the territorial capital. In 1867, Wickenburg farmer and speculator Jack Swilling raised funds to develop farmland about 60 miles to the southeast, an area that was eventually named Phoenix.
Although it didn’t become the state capital, Wickenburg has become known as the “Dude Ranch Capital of the World.” And despite some local tensions about how much to modernize, it currently does a great job balancing the needs of a modern small town with its historic roots:
The town has cherished the best traditions of its colorful early days. Through annual events such as Gold Rush Days & Rodeo, and the famous DC Ride, organizations such as the Wickenburg Chamber of Commerce and the Desert Caballeros, and the determination and hard work of its citizens, Wickenburg is committed to preserving the best traditions of the Wild West.
This rural Arizona community made national news in early May when a few restaurants and shops refused to follow the state orders to close for social distancing measures. When all other dine-in restaurants were closed in the state, the Horseshoe Cafe was packed inside, with crowds outside waiting to eat. Wickenburg has declined to prosecute shops that violated the order. So far there have been five confirmed cases of Covid-19 in the Wickenburg zip code.
The town of Wickenburg was never on my personal radar until I met my wife, Wendy, whose parents own a winter home there. For the past several years I have been a frequent visitor, and, in the summertime, more like a part-time resident. Wendy lived and worked there for nearly a year before we got married. We love the vibes of the town and the spacious desert surroundings.
The mural pictured above was just completed in downtown Wickenburg this past month.
Links and News
Daily news in ten minutes or less! If you want to get a quick rundown of important Arizona news each day, check out the Sun Up Podcast.
An update on the subject of last month’s newsletter: The Golden Pineapple Lounge in Tempe is now open, serving drinks and food for takeout. Wendy and I walked over for some green-chili and pork enchiladas one evening, and they were delicious. They’re also giving away colorful pineapple stickers.
Whenever sports return to American life, they probably won’t include spectators at first. That’s not stopping the Suns from continuing renovations on their arena. Phoenix City Council recently approved $230 million in tourism taxes for the renovation. Read about the progress here: “Suns unveil progress on Talking Stick Resort renovations.”
The Lost Leaf is a small independent music venue in downtown Phoenix that wasn’t able to get assistance from the federal government. Instead, the owners started a Go Fund Me and raised $25,000, allowing them to survive. This is an excellent story: “'It brought tears to my eyes': How downtown Phoenix is banding together to save Lost Leaf.”
For pictures and descriptions of other downtown Phoenix buildings, and to learn how they’ve changed over time, here’s a good collection: “Then and Now: The Ultimate Guide to Historic Downtown Phoenix Buildings.”
You probably know we’re experiencing a very serious drought here in Arizona. Water policy is complicated, and can be boring for many folks, but the topic is important, and I want to explore it occasionally in this newsletter.
So let’s start with a little water history.
The Colorado River Basin Project Act, passed in 1968, authorized the Central Arizona Project, or CAP — a canal system that delivers water from the Colorado River, through Phoenix, and down to Tucson.
Linked here is a six-minute video about this ‘68 law, made to celebrate its 50th anniversary in 2018. The video is cleverly “narrated” with clips of a signing-ceremony speech by President Lyndon Johnson. It also includes a short reflection by the late Sen. John McCain.
One Last Thing
Of the many things lost during this pandemic, my heart goes out especially to this year’s graduating classes. As a teacher of high school seniors, one of the most rewarding parts of the job is to experience this accomplishment alongside them.
Under the circumstances, schools have had to great creative with their ceremonies. One graduate school in Arizona even used robot avatars.
As much as robotic avatars and holograms sound like fun, there really is nothing that can replace the hugs, handshakes, and real world well-wishes of a traditional graduation ceremony.
A hearty congratulations to all 2020 graduates, and those who supported them.
P.S. Thanks!!
Very grateful to everyone who has read and subscribed so far! The response has been encouraging; the sign-ups have exceeded my early expectations. Don’t hesitate to reach out with your comments, feedback, or ideas. If you “reply” to this newsletter from your email, your note will show up in my inbox.
Final-final thought: A monthly newsletter is naturally detached from the immediate barrage of the news cycle. This format allows for a stepped-back and long-view perspective. In recent days, the country has been convulsed by unrest following the killing of George Floyd. Rather than hastily include content or commentary, I will hold off until the next issue.
See you in July.