Herewith begins a new series of tales from my career as a public relations coordinator for a once prominent Northwest public utility from 1986-2008. There, I met all kinds of interesting characters, many of whom I worked for and admired, and any number of others inadvertently brought together by happenstance.
This story focuses on the latter: a random series of incidences I call the Boy Scout and the Brainiac. But before I begin weaving that tale, allow me to introduce the characters: one William (Bill) Eaton (above), retired utility education coordinator; and Amory Lovins (below), physicist and founder of The Rocky Mountain Institute.
In the early 90s, I met the Boy Scout, retired utility geek, critic and curmudgeon with an affinity for collecting electrical antiques from the post-Thomas Edison era, frequent pest at board meetings and letter writer to practically anybody willing to listen to him. Somehow, I had had become responsible for his care and feeding.
The Brainiac, an expert on energy policy and innovator of the “nega-watt revolution,” contended that utility customers do not want more kilowatt-hours of electricity but energy management services. With at least 10 honorary doctorates and numerous awards, Lovins has provided his expertise worldwide.
Joining the utility conservation department as a communications and marketing hack for a massive, federally funded weatherization effort in the mid-1980s, I became quickly engulfed and articulate in the philosophy and practice of the nega-watt revolution as espoused by the Brainiac: conservation and renewable energy.
Of course, the Boy Scout and the Brainiac were polar opposites. Bill Eaton was Old Testament: generate electricity in mass quantities for the good of all, as characterized by Mr. Redi Kilowatt, a funny-looking little dude who was the (ahem) cartoonish face of power marketing, such as it was back in the day.
After his presentation, I received unfettered access to the Brainiac. He knew who I worked for and was hoping to gather another Northwest utility of note as a client of E Source, his consulting group that helps utilities advance the concepts inherent with the efficient use of energy in an increasingly complex natural environment.
Meanwhile, back at The Ponderosa, the Boy Scout was making preparations for his legacy: an antique appliance display for the utility featuring old electric gizmos and gadgets of all kinds. We purchased a pastry case for the small stuff and displayed the monitor-top refrigerator and larger appliances by themselves.
In the early 90s, I met the Boy Scout, retired utility geek, critic and curmudgeon with an affinity for collecting electrical antiques from the post-Thomas Edison era, frequent pest at board meetings and letter writer to practically anybody willing to listen to him. Somehow, I had had become responsible for his care and feeding.
Joining the utility conservation department as a communications and marketing hack for a massive, federally funded weatherization effort in the mid-1980s, I became quickly engulfed and articulate in the philosophy and practice of the nega-watt revolution as espoused by the Brainiac: conservation and renewable energy.
Of course, the Boy Scout and the Brainiac were polar opposites. Bill Eaton was Old Testament: generate electricity in mass quantities for the good of all, as characterized by Mr. Redi Kilowatt, a funny-looking little dude who was the (ahem) cartoonish face of power marketing, such as it was back in the day.
The Brainiac, on the other hand, was New Testament, with a 180-degree perspective from that of the Boy Scout. Because you can only store so much electricity in batteries, Lovins reasoned, why not only use what you need, thereby achieving balance in the force? You know, more is less and less is more.
Turns out, Lovins would be the keynote speaker at the American Public Power Association utility conference in Colorado Springs and I would be in attendance: lucky me. More good news, the gig would be held at The Broadmoor, a five-star facility in the foothills of the Eastern Rockies, red-rock country to be exact.
Eager to learn, I lapped it up. Speaking knowledgeably about energy could be perplexing. How do you talk about a product that is invisible? Strategically, of course, through end uses. Need space heat? That’s typically the biggest energy drain. Water heating? Less electricity but still a significant contributor to energy usage.
Discussing electrical generation can also be tricky business. Ask a group of Rotarians where we get our energy and you’ll hear about Northwest hydropower. Ask a group of school kids where we get electricity and they’ll point to an outlet. Both demographics are correct, of course, and should received full points.
Yet, even renewable energy has environmental issues. Hydropower creates problems for upstream and downstream fish migration, particularly salmon, a Northwest icon. Wind power affects birds and bats and things. Effects from both sources of renewables must be mitigated. And don’t get me started on fossil fuel generation.
Nonetheless, the cleanest and lowest cost energy source is conservation. Save energy right at the source: where we use it. Efficient windows and doors, insulation, natural lighting, efficient artificial lighting, passive and active solar applications. Few people know “demand-side” management like Amory Lovins.
As the presentation began, I gathered a chair in the front row, as is my style, where lots of butts disguised as empty seats joined me. I prefer a spot with access to the speaker, enhancing effective listening and note-taking opportunities and photo ops. I was so close to the Brainiac that he couldn’t help but notice my name tag.
“Hey, I want to talk to you after the session,” Lovins said. “Me?” I queried, turning around to see who he might really be addressing. “Yes, you,” he confirmed. I was puzzled but pleased that a keynote speaker of such significance would be interested in talking to the likes of me, a public relations and marketing professional.
On my way home, I had the good fortune to sit next to the Brainiac himself on the commuter flight from Colorado Springs to Denver. Quite an interesting fellow to be sure. He explained how one Japanese client would test job candidates by having them stick their hands inside a black box.
“What was in the box,” I asked, “A tarantula?” He laughed aloud. Guffawed, actually. I think he enjoyed my obtuse sense of humor, and we agreed that he would come to Eugene and make a presentation to my utility while conducting a news conference for the local media. Big score for yours truly.
When the Boy Scout discovered the fact that the Brainiac would conduct a presentation and media conference at my utility, he was all in, for the wrong reasons as usual. Yes, he was that kind of troublemaker, and also known to be lecherous with the ladies he encountered in his daily travels.
The good news is that the Brainiac arrived in town promptly and provided a noteworthy presentation that was a hit with utility types and media wonks alike, and picked up another client for E Source in their endeavor to help utilities solve problems and make business decisions that serve customers well.
The Boy Scout was reasonably well behaved except for an off-color comment about Hunter Lovins, an environmentalist, lawyer, political scientist, university professor, business whiz and Amory’s then-spouse, growing nice “tomatoes” at their unique conservatory at the Rocky Mountain Institute in Snowmass, Colorado
2 comments:
Eaton wasn’t the only original naysayers from that era, but perhaps the nosiest. As one senior staffer characterized it to me at the time, Eaton and a generation of old schoolers went “kicking and screaming” into conservation as an energy resource. Eaton met one certain future general manager at the same new employee orientation orientation session I was on, when she was an up and coming government affairs coordinator. Eaton was then a retired tour guide, leading us on a tour of the filtration plant. He introduced himself to the group and just before departure, made a special note “for you ladies” which caught her attention. He said he “wouldn’t be talking too technical” and made it a point to dumb it down that the processes he would be describing basically were to remove invisible “bugs” and make it safe for people. With that, that tallest “lady” strode to the front of the group to professionally introduce herself, walked at Eaton’s shoulder through the entire tour and aquatinted him with knowledge attained from her degree microbiology. She could have led the tour herself that day. She went on to become the first and only woman to serve as manager of the pioneering EWEB conservation department, authoring it’s first Residential Conservation Services Plan and nationally acclaimed conservation bond financing program. She rose to become the first woman manager at Oregon’s largest publicly owned utility. Eaton learned a lot that day. So did I. She was an amazing leader I had the privilege of working for. Watching how she handled Eaton was only the beginning of the barriers an new generation of energy professionals would need to navigate through. Today, a resource in excess of 50 average “negawatts” continues to quietly offset the need to purchase or produce that amount of energy for EWEB customers. The name of the leader who blazed that trail was Jean Reeder.
You are, of course, absolutely correct, Lag. Another of the Boy Scout's ilk was Walt Youngquist. Remember that meeting?
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