But I think the issue is broader than that—fact is, what follows kept me up most of last night (Sunday 1230). In a hyper-rank-conscious society (the Soviets), one incredibly thoughtful Red Army Colonel may have saved the world courtesy one and only one thing—common sense.

My message, though, is not just a tribute to applied common sense. As the new year approaches, I'd urge you to use this story as a reminder of how precious and precarious life is. Last year I touted a wonderful book, The Manager's Book of Decencies: How Small Gestures Build Great Companies, by Adecco exec Steve Harrison. I suggest using this Big Story of impending Nuclear Holocaust to remember small gestures. That is, take the time, with family and friends and colleagues and, indeed, strangers on the street, to smile or say thanks or somehow or other go the extra inch to introduce humanity into your moment-by-moment routines. Do this especially when you are harried and "don’t have a second to waste." Between this amazing story about you and me and Colonel Stanislav Petrov and planetary nuclear incineration, and Dickens' Christmas Carol (I re-read it every Christmas), we should be humbled—and moved to give serious thought to the ways in which we transit the world on any given day, at any given moment.

[What follows is the beginning of an article re-printed from dailymail.co.uk. See the original here, and more by author Tony Rennell here.]

"September 26th, 1983: The Day the World Almost Died," by Tony Rennell

Stanislav Petrov, a lieutenant-colonel in the military intelligence section of the Soviet Union's secret service, reluctantly eased himself into the commander's seat in the underground early warning bunker south of Moscow.

It should have been his night off but another officer had gone sick and he had been summoned at the last minute.

Before him were screens showing photographs of underground missile silos in the Midwest prairies of America, relayed from spy satellites in the sky.

He and his men watched and listened on headphones for any sign of movement—anything unusual that might suggest the U.S. was launching a nuclear attack.

This was the height of the Cold War between the USSR and the U.S. Both sides packed a formidable punch—hundreds of rockets and thousands of nuclear warheads capable of reducing the other to rubble.

It was a game of nerves, of bluff and counterbluff. Who would fire first? Would the other have the chance to retaliate?

The flying time of an inter-continental ballistic missile, from the U.S. to the USSR, and vice-versa, was around 12 minutes. If the Cold War were ever to go "hot," seconds could make the difference between life and death.

Everything would hinge on snap decisions. For now, though, as far as Petrov was concerned, more hinged on just getting through another boring night in which nothing ever happened.
Except then, suddenly, it did. A warning light flashed up, screaming red letters on a white background—"LAUNCH. LAUNCH." Deafening sirens wailed. The computer was telling him that the U.S. had just gone to war.

The blood drained from his face. He broke out in a cold sweat. But he kept his nerve. The computer had detected missiles being fired but the hazy screens were showing nothing untoward at all, no telltale flash of a missile roaring out of its silo into the sky. Could this be a computer glitch rather than Armageddon?

Instead of calling an alert that within minutes would have had Soviet missiles launched in a retaliatory strike, Petrov decided to wait.

The warning light flashed again—a second missile was, apparently, in the air. And then a third. Now the computer had stepped up the warning: "Missile attack imminent!"

But this did not make sense. The computer had supposedly detected three, no, now it was four, and then five rockets, but the numbers were still peculiarly small. It was a basic tenet of Cold War strategy that, if one side ever did make a preemptive strike, it would do so with a mass launch, an overwhelming force, not this dribble.

Petrov stuck to his common-sense reasoning. This had to be a mistake.

What if it wasn't? What if the holocaust the world had feared ever since the first nuclear bombs dropped on Japan in 1945, was actually happening before his very eyes—and he was doing nothing about it?

He would soon know. For the next ten minutes, Petrov sweated, counting down the missile time to Moscow. But there was no bright flash, no explosion 150 times greater than Hiroshima.

Instead, the sirens stopped blaring and the warning lights went off.

The alert on September 26th, 1983, had been a false one. Later, it was discovered that what the satellite's sensors had picked up and interpreted as missiles in flight was nothing more than high-altitude clouds.

Petrov's cool head had saved the world.

He got little thanks. He was relieved of his duties, sidelined, then quietly pensioned off. His experience that night was an extreme embarrassment to the Soviet Union.

Petrov may have prevented all out nuclear war, but at the cost of exposing the inadequacies of Moscow's much vaunted early warning shield.

Instead of feeling relieved, his masters in the Kremlin were more afraid than ever. They sank into a state of paranoia, fearful that in Washington, Ronald Reagan was planning a first-strike that would wipe them off the face of the earth.

The year was 1983 and—as a history documentary in a primetime slot on Channel 4 [UK] next weekend vividly shows—the next six weeks would be the most dangerous the world has ever experienced. ...

[Read the remainder of the article at dailymail.co.uk.]

*SLUMS ARE GOOD. Today's burgeoning slums are the product of people pouring into the cities from the countryside—in pursuit of jobs. (In 2008, cities' population will surpass countryside population.) While eyesores and cause of appropriate concern, said cities are in fact the source of jobs, and overall poverty reduction is significantly attributable to the migration—burgeoning slums notwithstanding. The assertion is that no nation has grown wealthy since the start of the Industrial Revolution until the country-city migration was in full flower. ("Bright Lights, Big Cities," Matthew Quirk)

*HOME OWNERSHIP IS BAD. There are indeed enormous benefits to home ownership. But the big drawback, especially in times of economic revolution, is that home ownership measurably slows migration from where the jobs were to where the jobs are. ("Housebound," Clive Crook)

*WE HAVE TOO MANY DOCTORS. The supply of doctors to an area is significantly determined by the wealth and insurance coverage of the population. Hence there are more docs per capita in well-off areas—where, in fact, medical problems are less intense per capita. This also leads in particular to an excess of specialists—lots of docs prescribe lots of tests and make lots of referrals. As to the "bottom line," healthcare, per several sound measures, is no better in places with lotsa per capita docs than in places that are doc-deprived. It gets more interesting: The more specialists, the worse the outcomes. (More or less.) Specialists trip over one another, give conflicting advice, and are notoriously bad at cross-communication. More on specialists: The glamour and pay accorded to specialists comes at the price of less and less well-paid primary care docs—it is the vanishing primary care docs who are primarily responsible for good healthcare outcomes. Dr Elliott Fisher, Center for Evaluative Clinical Sciences at Dartmouth Medical School: "If we sent 30 percent of the doctors in this country to Africa, we might raise the level of health on both continents." ("Overdose," Shannon Brownlee)

*Less AID, more aid. "Scents & Sensibility," by Sarah Chayes, is the saga of helping Afghans successfully build a soap and body-oil business. It's also the umpteenth repeat of the story of how such "on the ground," practical, human-scale efforts are slowed or halted by the ham-handedness of USAID. [Web-only slideshow]

*THE LATE-BIRD STARTS THE CREATIVE ENTERPRISE. From "How You Sleep Is Who You Are" [not available online]: "Early risers prefer to gather knowledge from concrete information. They reach conclusions through logic and analysis. Night-owls are more imaginative and open to unconventional ideas, preferring the unknown and favoring intuitive leaps on their way to reaching conclusions." Morning people are more self-controlled, more formal, respect authority, and obsess on making a good impression. The late bunch are more independent and have less respect for authority. (Research source cited by the Atlantic: "Morning and Evening Types: Exploring Their Personality Styles," by Juan Francisco Diaz-Morales.) (TP note: Sounds like we need a night-owl CEO matched by an early-bird CFO.)

Over the past few days there was news that Britney Spears' new CD was #1 on Billboard's charts. That, itself, is a scary piece of news. But here's what caught my attention: Billboard later changed their list, putting the new album by The Eagles on top.

Why is that scary? The Eagles record is only available at Wal*Mart, and Billboard had to change their rules to include sales in limited retail distribution. Britney had sold about 300,000 copies, but The Eagles had sold 711,000 copies at Wal*Mart/Sam's Club in six days.

Personally, I can't wait to hear the new Eagles CD. And, I'm not one of those anti-Wal*Mart types, by any means. But it does catch my attention when American buying behavior can be so concentrated in one place. I'll admit it. I want to be part of the fragmented, interesting marketplace The Long Tail, describes.

On the other hand, anyone who does not believe in "market imperfections" is a loony. For instance, I believe that globalization, whatever that is, is a good thing—in fact, a very good thing. On the other hand, its impact is as messy-uneven as one would imagine, given the enormity of what's afoot. And indeed we (the Chinese and Indians at home, big time, and the rest of us, as well) must squarely address said imperfections—or pay an enormous price.

Which brings me to my point—though I'm not entirely sure what I'm trying to say. If there is anything I believe in more fervently that capitalism, it is its social twin, free speech. Hence I am inalterably opposed to muzzling ... of any sort.

But I also think that even if one is a free speech and capitalism nutter, as I am, that one can vote for the occasional dose of good taste—"manners," my Mom might have called it. Which leads me by the backdoor to the purpose of this Post. Though I wish not to muzzle, I must admit to being a little bit revolted by Saturday's Financial Times magazine, which I read in the Frankfurt airport. The issue was devoted to a single topic. The cover read: "How to spend it." (A regular feature!) I am no enemy of luxury goods—as you know from recent previous Posts, Susan gave me a Kubota 4-wheeler for my birthday. But when "one" (me) reads of the world's strife in the news section, much, if not most, of it at least an indirect product of real or perceived inequities and disaffections of some sort, "one" (me) sometimes—e.g., yesterday—wishes we, the hyper-privileged, weren't so apt to shove, de facto, our joys and toys down others' throats. It's also why I'm no fan of the new Portfolio magazine, despite excellent reporting.

I don't know how I want this Post to end. Not with a recommendation, to be sure. Just as it is, as a personal "footnote" of sorts, declaring that this certified capitalist pig feels "troubled" at times by our tendency to "flaunt it" in a way that seems distasteful ... to me. (I acknowledge, too, that it's "just" human nature—I recently read somewhere, maybe Forbes or Fortune, about the billion-dollar (!) house that India's richest dude is building outside Mumbai. Ah, well ...)

Dismissing China's progress would be a disaster. Wildly overstating China's "inevitable march to Global Hegemony" would also be a disaster. Thurow may be wrong, but his argument is worth absorbing in some detail.

I just about ran off the road as I choked with laughter. It's not that I doubt that Murdoch will make ideological changes, nor do I expect to agree with some of those changes. No, my response, the life-endangering laughter, is tied, no more and no less, to the name of the beleaguered editor's paper per se. This is the WALL STREET journal. And, last I heard, Wall Street is precisely and by design "all about money." (Albeit aiming to produce economic well-being.)

The WSJ is ... and has been ... and doubtless always will be ... by definition ... all about money.

(My thanks to that discombobulated editor—anything that can produce a laugh at 5 a.m. is worth a salute.)

Comments?

• Tony Blair yesterday gave a speech asking business to be more aggressive in the EU. This is a Labor PM? Mrs Thatcher started a pro biz tsunami beyond the (1980) imagination, and has cast an enormous shadow. (Financial Times headline 0522: "Blair calls for louder business voice in Europe")

• The Chinese bought a significant share of our largest private equity group, Blackstone. (Financial Times headline 0522: "Chinese agency charts bold path")

• The Saudis bought GE Plastics. (International Herald Tribune headline: "Era ends as Saudis buy GE plastics")
  

Just another ho-hum day in the Global Economy, circa 2007.

(Speaking of the global economy, above is a charming picture of my view from the Heathrow Terminal 4 Hilton, where I'm hanging out for 10 hours between my Boston to London flight and my London to Johannesburg flight. A little different from Vermont in full Spring bloom at this time yesterday. So, why do I do this?)

As you can see by the headline (above) on Ankara's English language newspaper for 0508.2007, the Turks are not exactly thrilled with the French election results. Sarkozy bluntly declared on the campaign trail that there was no way in hell his government would support Turkey's membership in the EU.

(For what it's worth, and the answer is "not much," I think it would be an epic strategic mistake to shut out this moderate Islamic country. Of course there are a jillion ramifications—but my vote is a crystal clear "Yes" for membership.)

God save the queen.

I look forward to my visits.

And yet on the way home from Italy yesterday, I read results of a poll revealing that 91% of Egyptians, our longtime "allies," feel that attacking American troops in Iraq and Afghanistan is justified. Obviously this pisses me off at Egyptians. But it also pisses me off at me. This is not a political Blog. I bend waaaaaaay over backwards to keep my deeply held political views to myself. But stuff such as the 91% figure demand comment.

In short, in response to very legitimate issues, we have nonetheless exacerbated the most Godawful mess imaginable in the Middle East. And in the process screwed up almost beyond recognition, hopefully not beyond repair, America's reputation in the world as a beacon of hope and decency. (To want to shoot American soldiers is, at least metaphorically, to want to shoot at me. I am an American, and regardless of how I cast my vote, I am responsible for my government—that's the way it is in Democracies. Why do they want to shoot me? Because they're hopeless? Because I'm hopeless? Both?)

The situation is ridiculously complex, the enmities thousands of years old, and ready solutions there are not.

Still ...

I intend to go to Turkey and Dubai. I will try to be of service. (Jaw jaw beats war war, per Churchill.) And I must declare that, in the process, I will be almost as pissed off at "Washington's" "blunders"—manifest incompetence—as at the 91% of Egyptians who are maddened by us.

So/but: Do I indirectly support the 91% of Egyptians who want to kill our troops by going to Turkey and Dubai? You may say, "Of course not." I think I agree—but, frankly, I'm not sure.

What do you think?
Should I go?
Or not?
Why?
Why not?
(No simplistic, sloganistic answers please.)

(A State Department report released yesterday concludes that our "liberation" of Iraq has increased global terrorism—not ameliorated it. This is "news"?)

The world is a mess and getting messier.
Chaos reigns—and will get more chaotic.
America has no friends.

And on it goes. (I've been a drummer of some of this litany of woes ...)

But let's pause, for a day, anyway.
Let's wish Europe, that is the unprecedentedly peaceful and enormously prosperous European Union, a Happy Happy 50th Birthday!

Today—March 21—is the Big Anniversary. Six nations signed the very limited (mostly about steel and coal) Treaty of Rome on 21 March 1957, little more than a decade after WWII ended. Now the EU has 27 member nations and 500 million people within its confines. There's never been an alliance like it in history.

But it's so "old economy" ... right? Don't be so hasty.

E.g.: "Absurdly" high wage Germany has the highest positive trade balance (and growing) in the world—surpassing China's. The Nordic countries, so burdened by social welfare costs, are thriving and then some. And, yes, France has higher output per hour than ... the U.S.A. (Ours is higher per year—since we work a lot more hours.) London, some say (Manhattanites are in a not-so-mild panic), may surpass New York, New York, as a financial hub.

(My more intimate report on EU prosperity, or something, was made graphic at the currency exchange counter in the Lisbon airport—where I got back 139 Euros for my two-hundred dollars.)

So the EU peace & prosperity Report Card at age 50 is quite healthy.
But that's not actually the point of this Post.

My point is to speak about a broader and equally inseparable union that gives new historical meaning to the word "mighty"—namely the EU-US Dynamic Duo.

Many of "them" are irritated (or worse) at many of "us."
And vice versa.

But the point is, like it or lump it ... bachelorhood (isolationism) is behind us, and we're now an old married couple. Our politics may differ (not about the most important stuff of course—Big D Democracy, variety of flavors notwithstanding). But our economic destinies are those of Siamese twins, or close to it. Daniel Hamilton, Director of Johns Hopkins' Center for Transatlantic Studies, told Newsweek that our de facto cross-oceanic union "is by a wide margin the deepest and broadest between any two continents in history." (That's a mouthful, especially from a professor!)

Sixty percent of U.S. foreign investment, Newsweek also reports, goes to Europe—and even our investment in the smaller European nations such as Belgium and Ireland is more than our investment in China or India. In turn, or return, fully two-thirds of European foreign investment is in the U.S.A. In one of those "cute factoids," Newsweek informs us that Europe's investment in Georgia, Indiana, and Texas is greater than U.S. investment in China and Japan combined.

Hmmmm ...

So spits and spats aside, "we" are in it, and in it deep, together; and our destinies for years to come are unimaginably intertwined. And, as to the rise of China and India and the turmoil in the Middle East, well, it may well create chaos—but the EU-US colossus dwarfs any other combination and will for a long time to come.

(And add in, as I think one should, our deep partnership with Japan ... and think US-EU-Japan ... and the idea and dimensions of "colossus" stagger the imagination, a billion-and-a-quarter Chinese notwithstanding.)

We have a lot to do. But "they," and especially "we two," have come a long, long peaceful and prosperous way, baby. Yes, it does stagger the imagination—especially if you were born in Baltimore in November 1942 on the day, I believe, General Eisenhower landed, along with his raw farmboys, in North Africa while Europe lay in tatters for the second time in 25 years.

(I got to Lisbon in the late afternoon, and I was determined to get my own pic of the EU flag for this Post; I did, but thanks to lousy light, it isn't very good—but it's mine, and thence gen-u-ine, relative to this Blog.)

End of the World as the English know it. An unexpected Commons vote to, after 700 years, turn to an elected House of Lords. The end is nigh for the ultimate oxymoron ... "hereditary excellence"? Quite possibly.

The Chinese are seriously considering real property rights—the right to OWN one's property. Headline (from Tom): "Today the Sun Rose in the West."

Hooray: The Brits are seriously considering severe penalties for the BAA if security lines, especially in hell (a/k/a Heathrow) are too long. Five MINUTES, on average, would be the new standard, and >20 minutes would be treated a Capital Offense. Fingers crossed, hope it happens—and exports across the Atlantic.

No less Important for being obvious. Headline, the Times (London): "A friend is loyal, kind, true ... and probably a woman." An academic study based on 10 years of data. Conclusion: "Friendship between women seems to be fundamentally different from friendship between men." "Friendship is much deeper and more moral for a woman. Women tend to keep their friends through thick and thin, across geography and social mobility. Men, on the other hand, are more fickle with their relationships and seem more interested in asking 'What's in it for me?'"

Below, welcome signs of spring, daffodils in Green Park, London, March 8.

Yet before we get ahead of ourselves, there are scientists who remain skeptical that greenhouse gases (human-caused) are the major source of global warming. They argue that this warming is due to natural cycles or other variables, such as sunspot activity. While the number of these skeptics is shrinking faster than the polar ice caps, we shouldn't forget that a majority opinion is no warranty of scientific truth (ask Copernicus). And ideological claims ("they're all paid off by Big Oil") are no substitute for fact-based discourse, even if the big clock is ticking.

So, a couple of questions for this esteemed business community:
1. Are you convinced that human activity is causing global warming? Why or why not?
2. If yes, what would make the biggest impact in reducing CO2 buildup?

I know Dick Cheney and former ExxonMobil CEO Lee Raymond—and for that matter, Michael Crichton—say no deal. Maybe you do, too. That is, global warming—or not. Hence the picture above is a report, not an OpEd. Apple blossoms, Boston Public Garden, 1 January 2007. (And the bears are waking up in Russia—metaphorically and for real.) The ice sculpture picture below is from First Night Boston, the oldest FN in the country.