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Being a car guy has always been in tension with my profession as an environmental engineer. It is difficult to resolve this internal conflict, and recently, I have given it some thought.

Although I mainly work with chemistry, biology, and processes associated with water-based issues, I am familiar with the work related to defining the problems we face with climate change. I have read publicly available reports (back to the ‘70s) and reviewed source data to satisfy my own curiosity and am convinced that climate change is not only real but is ongoing, gaining momentum, and requires urgent attention. And yet, I have a ’57 Chevy parked in my garage that I am reluctant to part with. In some ways, the conflict I have also exists in our society.

In many ways, cars saved me. As a teenager, cars were the ‘tech’ of our time, and I spent countless hours trying to understand how they worked. Long before the internet, I spent many hours at the library scouring service manuals and feeding stacks of dimes into the copy machine to take home relevant instructions on how to tune an engine, adjust a clutch, or change a wheel bearing. My focus on cars helped to keep me from other, less productive pursuits, and eventually, my curiosity about how things work caused me to look toward college. I left for college in a beat-up ’57 Chevy whose engine I finished re-assembling the day before. Unfortunately, it caught fire on the off-ramp from the interstate, but I was able to snuff it out, put the spark plug wire back where it belonged, and go on to campus. After that, that car served me well throughout my years in college.

The’57 that had served me so well is now long gone, but years later, I acquired another ’57 and held on to it. The demands of a traveling profession and a growing family eventually necessitated putting the car aside for many years. Yet, it remained a nagging reminder of unfinished business. Decades later, the priorities of family and profession eased somewhat, and I began to breathe life back into it. It took years to get it back to be road-worthy. Along the way, I developed a deep respect for the skill of its designers and builders, who knew then how to make things that would endure. People such as these built the house and the community I now live in. Although I have taken many steps to make my house from the same era much more energy-efficient, I am less confident about what to do about the car.

This dilemma is shared by many who are reluctant to set aside things in which we invested our time and attention. Understandably, we are comfortable with the technology of our time, and learning new stuff can be, well, exhausting.

As a car guy and environmental engineer, I’ve watched the development of electric car technology from a distance and have long believed that it will be needed to quickly transition away from fossil fuel to blunt the impacts of climate change – despite having a classic car in the garage. The issue is, of course, much larger than me and my attachment to this car.

I believe the deployment of electric car technology has nearly reached critical mass. It is our future – perhaps our immediate future. This is a good thing, and the sooner we get this technology in the hands of tinkerers and racers, the sooner acceptance and exponential innovation will occur. From a personal perspective, it offers hope for me and my dilemma. Shops are now emerging that can convert classic cars to electric power. If Chevy’s debut of their twin motor, 750 hp, tire-smoking, electric Camaro portends the future, our hotrods may well survive the transition. So, I will embrace the future.

However, when it comes to self-driving car technology, I am resolved not to go down that road. I will not let a computer drive my ’57 Chevy. You have to draw the line somewhere.

Back to life after many years.

*****

Kevin Deeny