Carrying the Torch of Energy Conservation

Prior to the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles, a grand plan was unveiled with appropriate fanfare: Torch-bearers would carry the Olympic flame across the country, passing through all 50 states on their path to the Opening Ceremonies. There was, it turned out, a problem. The relay as conceived simply wasn’t feasible.

“I told them that the Games would be over and the torch would still be in Montana,” Wally McGuire, a San Francisco consultant with an expertise in political campaign logistics, recalled over lunch here Monday.

And so it was that McGuire was drafted late in the game to rescue the Torch Relay. He tore up the old map and developed a new, workable route that would take the flame through every region, if not every state. He then recruited and dispatched a cadre of young go-getters to nail down the details.

The result, of course, was a rollicking success. The torch relay arguably stands as the signature event of the entire Los Angeles Olympics. All along the route, from New York City to the L.A. Coliseum, Americans turned out by the thousands to cheer along the runners. It was one long national block party.

As a reporter who covered the relay, I got to know McGuire and we remain friends. In the years since, I have watched him organize papal visits, whistle-stop political campaigns, World Cup soccer events, smart-growth seminars, and on and on. Almost always, he begins with doodles on a restaurant napkin. Almost always, he ends with something so well-planned that it seems to have unfolded seamlessly on its own.

I caught up with McGuire at a restaurant near his office. He sketched a map of California on a paper tablecloth, filling it with dots and lines and grids, as he talked about his latest task--organizing an energy conservation campaign to see California through the summer.

He described various initiatives he has cobbled together in the two months since the governor brought him on board: door-to-door distribution of efficient light bulbs, audits of electricity consumption in state buildings, and assorted efforts to enlist CEOs, city bureaucrats, schoolchildren, fruit packers and others in the cause.

Some of the 10 initiatives--a plan to make janitors the conservation watchdogs in high-rises, a pledge to reduce consumption in state buildings by 20%--already have been announced. Others will be unveiled in the next few weeks. The idea, he said, is to build a sense of momentum and public support.

Although some programs provide financial incentives to those who conserve, McGuire also is counting on something he experienced with the torch relay. He came to see the enthusiastic, flag-waving crowds that turned out in every burg and city as evidence of a largely untapped spirit in the American people, a desire to be a part of something larger, to pull together, to connect.

It is his belief--or at least hope--that Californians will rally in a similar way this summer. He spoke of how they have responded to earthquakes and, in particular, to the last big drought, which gave rise to a conservation ethic that endured long after the rains returned.

“I think that when people begin to understand we are in this thing together,” he said, “and that we must get through it together, they will respond. They just don’t understand it yet.”

That dangling “yet” underscores a major obstacle. Californians these days cannot accurately be described as happy campers. There is wild disagreement and confusion over who to blame for the energy mess. Cynicism and conspiracy theories abound. This might not provide the ideal environment to make a call to sacrifice for the greater good.

McGuire, though, contends that attitudes will evolve, that Californians will come to see conservation as “the right thing to do. I think that people at some level believe that waste is not good. Waste is an expense. It does not make sense now. It does not make sense in the future.”

He sees the stakes as something greater than simply squeaking through a summer. There is a chance here to demonstrate to ourselves--and to the rest of the country--that conservation as an energy resource has been fully tapped. Indeed, for all the criticism of California’s supposedly laggard approach to building power plants, an even greater blunder was the gradual decay in the past decade of what was once the nation’s most aggressive set of conservation initiatives.

“Had we taken seriously the efficiency stuff we have talked about since the ‘70s,” McGuire said, “I don’t think we’d be in this pickle right now. We just got hooked on burning all this stuff. And now the party is over. It is a shame that we have to face this challenge, but I also look at it as a huge opportunity. I say that in the end this is going to make us a stronger, healthier state.”

Postscript: Since I left McGuire, California has gone through two consecutive days of rolling blackouts. To borrow a phrase from the Olympians, it would appear these games have begun.