Story is ubiquitous. Story is fundamental. Story is powerful. Story is ubiquitous. We all have stories. You have a story about where you come from, a story about your family, and a story about how you became a scientist. If you’re religious, you have a story about God. If you’re an atheist, you have a story about the non-existence of God. Regardless of where you’re from, you have a story about how your country started, and what it stands for today.

Last Friday, I was elected President of my local amateur radio club. As is typical for such elections, I was running unopposed, and had essentially been drafted into the position by the previous President (I’ll get you for this some day, Larry). In fact, many ham radio clubs are either on the brink of extinction, or have already gone under, unable to maintain enough participants to keep them running. Even with over 130 members, the Hampden County Radio Association struggles to get volunteers, not only for the administrative positions but for our regular activities.

A common trope in fantasy and science fiction is the ancient civilization whose vast knowledge was somehow lost to the ages. The idea resonates, because whether we’re conscious of it or not, we all know that knowledge is perishable. Not only do we forget things as individuals, but societies routinely lose vast quantities of information over time. Scholars estimate that 90% of texts from antiquity are now gone, and if you’ve ever tried to access an old computer file on a floppy disk, you know that we’re still actively losing access to old data.