The Moose is Loose: A Road Trip Through the Future of Making

Recently, my son Seamus and I hopped in my blue Subaru Outback and headed for College Station, Texas. Near undergrad age, he tagged along on my quest for up-and-coming manufacturing technology to glance at a possible future place of study. Coffee sets in as we roll out at 5 am, my time of the morning. I express with grandisimo that we will need places to learn, share and cultivate relational leadership skills necessary for future collaborations and survival. Our whole way of life needs to shift away from transactional competition and scarcity to relational support of the regenerative ecosystems of life that can provide abundance. If we don’t, we will consume ourselves and truly experience scarcity. 

What, you mean like, the Road style? Yeah, possibly or something similar. Dude, I just woke up. Slow your roll and keep it andante. Ima nap now. I let it lie to focus on driving.

Rolling through the dark country roads, aware of my approach into enemy territory, I trusted Google Maps to optimize our journey for speed and safety. The annual Hass Teaching Education Conference at Texas A&M would be vying for our attention soon, but at the moment, it was an episode of How I Built This with Guy Raz and Sam Altman. Altman is the CEO of OpenAI, a developer of safe artificial intelligence, as well as a board member of Helion, a nuclear power plant developer. They are discussing the different natures of goals and objectives between the two companies. Helion’s end result is very straightforward, safe, and cheap power, and the direction taken is clear and definable for employees and investors. Open AI is murky AF. Altman described their process as trying everything they can think of, sensing what is working, and following that lead. Observing where it goes and how the AI system adapts. He also used the analogy of driving down an old country road, only seeing as far as the headlights shine. This approach, less the AI robot takeover of humanity, feels akin to the flow of a creative space. Provide space, cultivate a community of care and creativity, and follow the illuminated leads. 

I work in the academic maker space movement. Across the country, colleges are discovering that community-based experiential learning is accelerating the capabilities of our younger generation. Youth are creating businesses, products, and services that are novel and inspired by their home communities. They are nimble and unburdened by the boomer mantra of “This is how we did it in my day”. They are ok with playing their way through challenges and being flexible because they experience it daily. They are trusted, share what they learn openly, and self-regulate through shared purpose and transparent communication. In doing so, they cross-pollinate world views, bond, and learn that competition may not be the only way to thrive.  Their actions provide a glimpse into what can be when technology is used as a collaborative tool in supporting relational community endeavors. 

Dude, are you talking to yourself again? Whatever, don’t act like you don’t.  You ever seen Dude, Where’s My Car? Nope, a movie? Yeah, it’s funny and silly. Bet. What? Bet. What is Bet? You’re supposed to say, Sweet! Same thing. Ah, Coo cool. We’re here. Let's head in.

We park and navigate the concrete maze to exit into the conference area. Greeted by a menagerie of Costco pastries. We graze and mingle. Then, grab our obligatory safety glasses to scope the tools and setups. Before our curious hands can break anything, an announcement from the day’s MC,  Dr. Wayne Hung, corrals us into a preformed rectangular grid in front of a microphone. Lecture style. Dr. Hung shares the emerging technologies of the metal fabrication industry with a thick Cantonese accent. He seems out of place in the room full of modern cowboys and not bothered in the slightest. He shows us hyper-fast CNC machine cells (clusters of machines) connected by feed robots that are infinitely programmable and can run 24 hours a day. They can change setup and fabricate any part that fits the machine's specifications. Outfitted with automated metrology stations (measuring devices) and adaptive tooling that can measure out-of-spec variations,  the cells can make immediate self-correcting actions. Absolute marvels of the modern engineering age. 

He then takes us on a journey through his research in metal additive manufacturing (3D printing). An emerging technology that is not yet on par with the machine cell we saw. The current array of available processes all create parts with inconsistent structural deviations that render the parts unfit for critically safe applications like aircraft or car parts. Hung's research involves the development of non-destructive testing (NDT) practices to measure parts for compliance and to help identify process improvements. The cumulative worldwide efforts are close to finishing the puzzle, and when they do, the additive process will be faster, with fewer design constraints, and almost no waste compared to the ultra-fast machine cell we had just witnessed. Minds blown, we skipped the Q&A and slog through the late morning heat back to our car. 

How bout we head through Austin to grab lunch and check out another techno marvel? Bet. What’d you think of the talk? I mean, I’m only 16, but yeah, that seemed pretty impressive. The machine cell we saw can outproduce a small factory with one programmer/ operator. Could you smell the fear in that room? Yeah, they all seemed nervous. They are. They’ll have to change how they think of work again. The industry that they grew up in has gone through 2-3 dramatic changes, and they’ve had to adapt each time. Soon, what they know may go away completely. And not from where they expect. It won’t be from overseas or an immigrant invasion, but the savvy, competitive businessman they are loyal to. The one that keeps up with the new new. There’s a dude from the ’70s, Alvin Toffler, who saw this coming. He coined the term future shock to describe the stress, fear, and disorientation induced by the compressed cycle of technological advancements that require relearning to participate in our capitalist system. The disorientation would most likely manifest as fear that calls for a return to traditional conservative values. A return to simpler, more binary times. Feels like now. Yup. And I quote “The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn. ” Dude, you're riding a dadsplain wave. I’m feelin' it. Don't cramp my old man style. 

When thinking of creative spaces and what they could offer us, I look at my own recalibrations over the years. Your grandfather's woodwork plant had a community inside that I got to know from afar growing up and intimately as the production manager post-college. Working side by side on creative endeavors allowed us to see past our biases and share our origin stories. People I never would have encountered had I gone the standard white-collar route of my peers. It changed my life. 

Chainsaw is a good example. A crazy-looking dude that I first met the summer after my 6th-grade school year (1988). My father couldn't pronounce Ynocencio and introduced him to me as Chainsaw. Slightly round with spiky hair, he liked to rip the sleeves off his shirt and cut the bottoms in a zigzag pattern to show off his Ponza. Belly? Yeah. He looked like the little homie dolls sold at the local corner store. I took over his janitorial duties for the summer. He greeted me with a smile as he handed over a duct tape-wrapped cardboard box filled with the standard cleaning supplies. Later that day, during break, he offered me a taco. The others concealed a sly snicker and as soon as I bit in, I realized why. A Bean and really hot pepper taco. Hottest thing I ever recall eating.  Haha, sucker.

He spoke no English so I learned through the crew that he lived across the creek in the Alazan Courts. More commonly referred to as Heroin Heights. A Government housing project that the government had given up on. Abandoned, boarded, and left to rot. It was home to all of the scary things we are told to keep our distance from. Drugs, prostitution, and Chainsaw. As work ended and my dad locked up, I'd watch him trek across the creek and over to a plywood-covered doorway, push it aside, and disappear in. I learned that Chainsaw sent every penny he made, after food, back to his family in Mexico.  

Much later (10 years) I took over the shop and Chainsaw found his niche as a prep sander. An unusually hard skill to train. It required the right amount of touch, patience, and critical observation. He was one of the best prep sanders I've worked with. He sanded woodwork for the US Treasury Building, the Texas State Capitol, all of the Ivy League schools, movie stars, country stars, and on and on and on. He’s who contemporary white Americans are afraid of.  The ravaging gang members across the border, trying to infiltrate our society. Ynocencio is one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever come across and he taught me so much about craft and how to be a good human. He worked for my father for 35 years, paid taxes, and rarely missed a day. He’s a bad dude. In a good way, right? Yup.

We bonded and learned about each other through our common interest in craft and creative pursuits. He certainly needed to work and had many opportunities to do cleaner, less challenging work elsewhere. He chose a path that allowed creative expression and contributed to the strength and vitality of our community. As a society, we have much unlearning to do and it won’t happen through our living room TV. 

I would be among the fearful if not for being exposed and immersed in an underrepresented and unacknowledged community. Less resilient and adaptive. I like to imagine ways to bring that experience to more. How much better off could we be if we played and created with what we fear to move beyond? Creative community spaces can offer the opportunity to bond, which leads to care and compassion. A place where all types of people help each other through tasks in support of meeting needs. Hmm, Right on. 

We roll into Austin and find our way to Sam’s BBQ on East 12th. The spray-painted message outside declares that ”You don’t need no teeth to eat my beef”. True. We order and sit outside. Chichatas lull in the background. 

I used to live on East 13th,  half a block up. My roommates and I are the only white people for blocks. A bad omen if ever there was one. The people around here or you? Us for sure. We were the white locust. Anyways, we’d pop in here when we had extra money and time. I’m surprised it survived the progressive revisions of a hot, can’t-miss neighborhood. I take a bite. Good stuff, right? Oh yeah. You gonna eat that? The nose looked at the Major and frowned a little. Gogol? I frown back. I forgot how salty BBQ is. Yeah, I could now be repurposed as a salt lick. Hah, that would tickle.  

I can't turn off my mind today. I can tell. Back home, we’re an arm's reach from a botanical center, a zoo, three art museums, two public parks, a tea garden, and two universities. All value-added multipliers on an actuary table. Don’t forget the country club, hospitals, and central market. Good call. Anyways, they're all pretty nice, right? Maybe, yeah. They’re definitely an amenity and all have clear mission and purpose statements declaring their support for community. And their true purpose is to make money. Maybe yeah. That's why they look so nice and get revived every so often. What they look like and offer is decided on by boards. Mostly people who donate large amounts to earn the privilege of deciding what's what. They fit the standard American trickle-down model. Knowledge and money trickle from haves to have-nots. Come here and our expertly curated staff and faculty will teach you something about plants, food, art, or, if you make the cut, all of the wonders of undergraduate-level knowledge. A one-way, two-dimensional pyramid flow model. Maybe you are overthinking this. Nope.

What if we reimagined their true purpose to be relational, experiential community support hubs? Inspired by existing and thriving ecosystems. Resources could come from the entire community and be allocated through participatory budgeting practices. These spaces could flex and change with the needs of the community. The botanical center could be a farm-community kitchen-research hub-cultural exchange center. The work could be distributed through volunteer-type task boards and supported by emerging technologies that are fast and reliable. Interesting, sounds complicated. It is, and far more complicated than one can manage, but just right for many to support. And it’s messy and ambiguous by nature. It flows with what's being called for by the community. My grad mentor, Nina Simon, did something similar with fantastic results. She converted a failing traditional art museum into a community-driven creative space. Gave the surrounding community the reins and it's kicking ass now. Sweet! For real. You done? Yeah. Let's roll on to the ICON houses. K

We checked out 3 homes that were 3D printed in an afternoon and finished out over 3 days. Another yet-to-be-fully implemented example of emerging technology that will change how we do. All manufacturing will change soon and look unlike what we know. Maybe what you know. It’s all still new to me. Bet. Soon, we’ll have lightning-fast information with super-advanced computing and the ability to make what we need when we need it. These technologies are expected to be turned on full blast to make money and grow our current systems. Competitive systems where thriving is shown out in bigger-better-more stuff or accolades. And they’re too fast. We’ll run out of resources. What if we rethink tech’s purpose to support relational instead of transactional ways? We use tech to assist in meeting our needs rather than growing our economy. Creative spaces are a place to make that happen. Need a chair? Come on in and a community member will show you how to print or make one. While you’re here, chat a bit and tell us about yourself. All we ask is that you reciprocate the same energy as needed. A place to experience a different way to thrive. I’d be down. Heck yeah, you would. Let's head out. Cool Cool. 

We bob along to I-35, Wayne's World style, to Pavement.  I’m trying! I’m Trying!  wails and repeats in the background as we continue our chat. What book you on in school? Crime and Punishment. It’s Dense, intense, disturbing, and visual. I feel changed. Like all other books of my exposure, pail in comparison. Yup. My grad program has my mind in knots right now too. We approach a light as a text rings in. He opens and we pause and listen to a recording of a stranger's advice for bad days. We giggle and formulate our day's motto in keeping with the stranger's advice. My mind has been fucked and what's fucked cannot be unfucked.

I talked with our cousin Chris King the other day. He’s cool. You’d like him. He’s an artist and musician and does a lot of movie soundtrack work. Nice. He’s now using AI to assist in making indie-label music videos. He takes stock video with his phone and uses AI to clean and alter to a pro-level production. All from his living room. The movie industry insiders he deals with are scared. Their cash cow is dying.  And he’s excited. Excited to see how this tool democratizes storytelling. What stories and art will the world share when all that is needed is a phone and computer? That’s what’s up.   

We can fear AI, automation, and people who look or act differently, or we can rely on their support to transform and release our pent-up creative potential energy to help us navigate change and meet needs. At times, it seems easier to believe and follow the aggressive dystopian fight through scarcity fantasies. What we imagine and believe is what we bring into the world. We have choice. We can’t bring visions of utopia if we don’t allow ourselves to imagine them. To believe in their possibility. Our ancestors, and remnants of, thrived through support of and respect for their regional ecosystem. We can imagine ways to do it again and make them happen. 

I'm feelin' it, and I’m also feelin' pent up and need to move around. Let's flex some disc. Mk. I’ll ask the maps for the closest disc golf course. Roy Gurerro disc golf park. 2.1 miles. Let's go! We park and haphazardly schlep on 50 SPF. Did I miss any spots? I’m blended in? Yeah, looks fine.  We leave the door open for future razzing of the burned-in missed calculations and wander in search of hole one. We come across a fort made of discarded Austin. A shirtless, shoeless dude pulls up and greets us with a couple of hellos. Hi, do you know where hole 1 is?  Oh, you mean for the frisbees? Yeah man, follow me. He takes us along a creek for half a mile through more forts and shacks and hi’s and hellos. Points across a fallen bridge. Up over there. Thanks. Hey, you got any water? It’s a hot one. Yeah, here you go. Thanks! 

Dude, that's a Klean Kantean! Whatever, take off Hoser! He needed it more than me. Yeah I suppose. 

Seamus clacks up to Tee 1 in flip-flops and flicks a driver down the fairway with pop. Hot damn! You really ripped that one. The moose is loose!  We follow as our viewport shrinks to a speck and catch the tail flight careen hard right into the woods 400ft away. Damn! You niced me! I did. Not nice, right? Ima keep it going.

AI and automation are going to render most jobs obsolete.  In our current economic system, all of the earned money will go to the top %1-10%. Not just most like now, but all. What we gonna do? Play more Disc Golf. For sure, and to survive, we’ll have to change. Discard the story of Stuff that we’ve been sold. 

The production cells and techniques that we saw today are easy to use and learn, but rapid manufacturing is not new.  We’ve been fast and efficient for a long time and this increased efficiency has decreased the monetary value of manufactured goods to almost nothing. We shifted business strategy from manufacturing to marketing. Proven to produce the highest return on investment and keep growth models churning. Our stories became the stories of stuff and our perception of thriving reflected in trends and must-haves. We’ve grown to care more about protecting our opportunity to acquire junk than developing meaningful relationships. Relationships add pep to our step, pick us up when we are down, and challenge our assumptions. They provide the stories of Us that make us whole. Cool Cool.

Now AI is coming for the marketing jobs and many, many that are yet to be realized. The people who helped us find hole one. They live here in the woods. They are the beginning. Many more will be unable to keep up in our current system and will need help finding their footing again. Handouts won’t suffice. They need to be empowered to live. I see the seeds of this empowerment in our maker space. 

Our users make more than things in our space. They share their origin stories and concerns. These stories bounce around and merge with others to transform ideas into action. Action that can be made real with the tools and knowledge available in the space. We have students who have made water aid stations for migrants, shipping containers converted to aquaponics food growth systems, mini plastic recycling systems, and many more systems that can support basic needs. All with around 200 users. We can and need to spread our availability. How?

We can look to the group that inspired our space, the Sears Think Box at Case Western Reserve in Cleveland, Ohio. The city partnered with wealthy donors and Case Western Reserve to reimagine a 7-story, fifty-thousand-square-foot building into a space for empowering community-led creation. It serves a separate art university, a medical school, and is open to the public for use and participation. Students, faculty, and community members are working together to address concerns and needs of the community with the aid and access to state-of-the-art industrial equipment and the knowledge base of a tier 1 research institution. They are completely transparent, committed to serving the needs of their community and taking the time needed to build trust and relationships within the city.  

The money donated to start was not a transactional handout; it was an invitation to empower transformational change.  A way to meet the needs and not the ambition. Our space, our city, and our state need to recognize and learn from the generative relational energy on display at Think Box and invest similarly. We need their help to kick-start these opportunities here, with the acknowledgment that what we create here will look and feel different from The Think Box, as we live in an ecosystem with unique living environments, cultures, and needs.  

Sounds like it could be chaotic. Yes, and messy, challenging,  unknown, and time-consuming as all relationships are. We are spectral beings of far greater complexity than our ascribed labels. We can thrive by adapting with the entropy of life rather than over. The process is not akin to flipping a switch. Our leaders will need to be ok with the time and frustrations involved to find our relational sweet spot. These spaces must be established with community purpose of support, full transparency, and allowed to cycle through failures into healthy systems. Give us access to the tools to support our communities and we will thrive. I’m all in! Sweet! 

The clang of hole 18 rattles through the woods. Good game. I’m pooped, let’s pack it in.