Popular Mechanics is one of the most historic titles in American magazine culture, but it hasn’t been highly decorated during its 106-year run. Founded by Henry H. Windsor in 1902 as a weekly journal, and picked up by Hearst Corp. in the 1950s, the magazine hasn’t been nominated for a National Magazine Award since 1991, and it hasn’t won since 1986. Until now, that is. This year Popular Mechanics is nominated for three Ellies, including for general excellence among titles with circulations between 1 million and 2 million. The title also received two nods in the personal service category. Today, as part of an ongoing series showcasing this year's NMA nominees, Media Life excerpts passages from two of the Popular Mechanics pieces that were nominated.
Personal Service
Both of Popular Mechanics' NMA nominations for writing came in the personal service category, one for Logan Ward’s piece “Facing Down Disaster,” about how to prepare for natural disasters, the other for three articles by Alex Hutchinson from his “Know Your Footprint” series on being more eco-friendly. “Facing Down Disaster” originally ran in the August 2007 issue, here’s an excerpt:
Dirt farmers living 100 years ago had less technology than we do, but the technology they had worked — efficient wood stoves, hand pumps for their wells, draft horses. Plus, people were tough, accustomed to a daily routine that a 21st century time traveler would initially find exhausting and alien.
I was such a time traveler. One morning in June 2001, my wife, Heather, 2-year-old son and I woke up in a house in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley that we’d stripped of any convenience unavailable to local subsistence farmers in 1900. We had no electricity, running water or plastic anything, and we had sworn off cars and supermarkets — all to undertake a year-long sabbatical from modern life, a return to the roots of our Southern rural ancestors. We grew vegetables, collected eggs from our hens and milked a pair of Nubian goats. (The goats weren’t as charming as they sound.) We fixed what broke, bought nothing, and spent the first half of the year filling a root cellar with long-lived food to get us through the second half.
That kind of planning for the staples of life — food, heat — isn’t something Americans do much anymore. Today, you can expect to find fresh grapes and strawberries in the store year-round, delivered daily across continents and oceans. In a similar way, during disasters we’ve come to expect prompt outside help that a 1900 farmer never would have contemplated. Just two hours after Hurricane Katrina made landfall, rescue helicopters were in the air; within three days, 100,000 emergency workers had arrived. Yet, as thousands of
Gulf
Coast residents learned, you can’t always count on outsiders to bail you out — especially in region-wide emergencies. “We in the emergency-preparedness community used to tell people to stock up and plan for 72 hours, and then help will come,” Simpson says. “After Hurricane Andrew, we said, ‘Wow, it might be a week.’ Then Katrina hit. Now we’re talking two weeks or more.” Emergency responders have a name for the post-Katrina reality: Yo-yo. You’re On Your Own.
Here’s an excerpt from
Hutchinson’s “Know Your Footprint: Water,” which ran in the September 2007 issue:
If the price of water was anything like the price of gasoline, nobody would leave the tap running while they brush their teeth. Water-saving efforts don’t have the same financial jolt that energy conservation has, but the issue is no less urgent, says Sadhu Johnston, the commissioner for
Chicago’s Department of Environment.
Johnston’s office faces
Lake Michigan. “You look out the window and see the
Great Lakes, and there seems to be unlimited water,” he says. “But there’s more to it than that.” Pollution of the lake through storm runoff is a major concern for
Chicago, which is why this year alone the city is distributing 5000 rain barrels made from recycled materials, to divert water from storm sewers to backyards. On a smaller scale, clients of Milwaukee-based landscape architect Rosheen Styczinski are keeping her busy designing rain gardens, which reduce a home’s runoff by absorbing storm water.
Such creative outdoor solutions are at the frontier of water conservation. Amy Vickers, a water consultant who wrote the efficient-plumbing standards for the Energy Policy Act of 1992, points out that even miserly, high-tech irrigation of a thirsty lawn creates problems in dry regions. “I’m a big believer in water-efficiency technology,” she says, “but we have to be aware of its limits. We need water conservation, not just water efficiency.”
Monika Clauberg found an inspired alternative for her Las Vegas yard during hikes through Death Valley and Red Rock Canyon, where she saw beautiful plants such as chaparral sage and desert marigold that were adapted to dry climates. Back home, she tore out the lawn, planted some trees and started scattering seeds. Was it a sacrifice? Not really. The result was a 50 percent cut in water bills—and a lush, grass-free and award-winning desert landscape.
And here’s one from “Know Your Footprint: Waste,” which originally ran in December:
Newer technology involves more complex choices: Electronics are the fastest growing component of the waste stream—5 to 7 million tons of computers, cellphones, TVs and other devices are tossed each year. A typical desktop PC contains 30 pounds of metal, 90 percent of which ends up in a landfill. But most dangerous are CRT monitors, which can contain more than 5 pounds of lead. When it’s no longer possible to extend the life of electronics with simple upgrades, consult epa.gov/ecycling to find a nearby location for safe disposal.
Even the greenest homeowner occasionally has to dispose of durable goods. The practice of taking old clothes to Goodwill instead of dumping them is well-established, but making the same effort with old kitchen cabinets and other renovation debris is an idea that’s just beginning to catch on. “People nowadays are much more handy,” says Kevin Brooks, whose
Philadelphia salvage firm disassembles buildings from the top down so that materials can be reused. “You can just put up a message on Craigslist and someone who wants cabinets will come and take them out themselves.”
The little decisions do add up: After two weeks of avoiding paper products and packaging, plus recycling everything she could and even bringing her own cutlery to fast-food restaurants, Ashley Menger had accumulated only 1.2 pounds of trash—a far cry from the 63 pounds most people generate during the same time span. Her colleagues have taken up the challenge, and are now trying to pare down their own waste footprints. Like any attempt to shed pounds, it’s easier when other people share the experience; Menger says: “It’s like Weight Watchers.”