By George Friedman
Last weekend, my wife and I visited our grandson (children were subsidiary to this visit) who lives in Rochester, New York. He and his family live close to the Erie Canal. The canal is now a placid body of water, the mechanics of a canal no longer intrusive except for the overhead guard gates and the canal a bare reminder of the time in which it represented the height of technological sophistication and in which it seemed a permanent feature of American life. It is now a picturesque body of water, made lovely by the decision a few years ago to recover its dignity, and where tour boats will take you on a tour to learn about its history. (A couple of years ago, one could even have caught sight of an enormous shipment of beer tanks from China that were too large to be transported by road, traversing the canal.) But it is also a reminder that in technology, all that towers passes away.
Construction on the canal began in 1817 and was completed in 1821. It connected the Great Lakes, and therefore what is now the American Midwest, with the Hudson River, which flowed south to New York Harbor, and distributed the agricultural products and minerals of the Midwest to the world. The land to the west was the future of the United States, but it was difficult to access. The Appalachian Mountains are extraordinarily rugged, and building roads across them was difficult. Even finished roads were difficult to use, despite the best efforts of Daniel Boone and his colleagues. The United States had to create economic links to the west in order to settle it and to allow it to prosper.





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