Essays in Idleness

Every million years or less, our poles flip over. The Earth’s North Pole becomes the South Pole, and vice versa. This is not news, though it seems to be making news at the moment, among alarmists who are starting to abandon their hopes for “global warming.” Clearly, trillions of dollars will have to be spent studying this (unusually straightforward) phenomenon, and preparing the planet for Armagneticon.

Sometimes the poles almost flip, then don’t. This would seem to be much more common, the last such event having apparently occurred almost within human history. That in itself could send everyone’s electronic infrastructure on a wild ride.

According to every compass in the world, not currently near the Isle of Canna,* the North Magnetic Pole has been shifting fairly quickly in recent decades, south and in the direction of Parkdale. That might be a hint. (I should perhaps explain that owing to igneous Tertiary intrusion, Canna has a mountain which has been described as the world’s largest fridge magnet. Bear this in mind whenever sailing by.)

Anything might happen, for all we know, and after that, anything might follow. According to satellite readings, a war is currently in progress, around the edges of the Earth’s molten core, with iron and nickel clustering in strength to drain the dipole. But since the satellites that can detect this were only launched in 2014, we have, really, no idea if this sort of thing happens all the time. (For just one billion dollars — hell, for a thousand and a case of good Scotch — I’ll flip a coin and tell you the answer.)

Okay, I just flipped it, and my research tells me the dipole will soon be fighting back, don’t worry about it. (Now, where’s my money?)

And, did you know? That if the poles suddenly flipped, every electronic device in the world might (or might not) be fritzed? Same from a variety of other cosmic causes. I’m so old now, I can remember when I first read all about this, as a schoolboy in the 1960s. And, saw the movie: The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951; not some glitzy remake). It was fun then, I’m getting tired of it now.

Oh, go ahead, Poles. Flip. I want to see it. And if the event prevents me from uploading my Idleposts, so it goes. I’ll just catch up on my sleep instead.

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* I deeply regret that in the original recension, I confused Canna (one of the Small Isles) with Mull (that much larger isle well to its south, which offers magnetic anomalies of its own, but not to compare with Compass Hill on Canna). Fortunately, I now have Western Scottish correspondents to correct me, on such grave matters. Should my post have contributed to a shipwreck on either isle, I apologize and condole.