Rusty Saber: Chicken Little was wrong again

If I weren't afraid of being accused of shamelessly promoting my book "McAdoo About Nothing" (which I just did), I'd ask: Was Y2K much ado about nothing or much ado about something, that something being a catastrophe that was averted due to the timely actions of government and business technicians and scientists from around the world?

As you know too well, ominous predictions were made that computers wouldn't recognize the year 2000; they would think (If computers can think, can HAL from "2001: A Space Odyssey" be far behind?) it was 1900 and would crash, shutting down electric power plants, water supplies, banks, ATMs, everything.

Well, the zeros rolled over, and zilch happened. Airplanes didn't fall from the skies, nuclear weapons weren't launched by computer accident. Nothing happened. I, for one, am happy that Y2K was a nonevent. Only the most pessimistic among us who thrive on misery are unhappy that Y2K didn't live up to its advance billing.

I don't know which hype was greater, that about the pitfalls of Y2K or the super-heroic efforts by government and industry to avert the crisis at a cost of billions of dollars. It was a lot of hyperbole.

Long-time Rusty Saber readers may find it hard to believe that some sadly misinformed people say I'm a cynic. Not so. I like to think of myself as a critical thinker who doesn't buy into scare scenarios until I see more logical proof than I heard from Y2K-ites warning that the sky was falling.

So, it shouldn't come as a shock that I didn't put much stock in the Y2K hype. I'm of the much-ado-about-nothing stripe. I know, I know. Those less cynical than I needed to take the problem seriously. Had nothing been done and the world had gone dead in the water at midnight, political leaders and captains of industry would have been driven from the halls of government and corporate boardrooms. We will probably never know for certain if the hype was necessary; even the computer experts don't agree. Some say the dangers were exaggerated, others say they were for real.

I made no advance preparations in case Y2K actually laid siege to the land. But Dec. 31 I listened all day to reports from nations on the other side of the world where 2000 arrived several hours earlier. We had been told that Third World countries weren't prepared for Y2K; calamity was predicted. Midnight rolled around there; nothing happened.

Some U.S. officials were concerned about Russia's lack of preparation. The new year arrived sans calamity. Russian computers didn't accidentally send nuclear weapons our way, nor did ours send any their way.

I knew I had survived Y2K on Jan. 1. I turned on my laptop computer and it didn't say to me: "Sorry, but this is 1900. The computer won't be invented for another 50 years or so; try me then." No. It worked like ... well, it worked like a laptop computer.

Television carried prodigious New Year's Eve celebrations in places like New York's Times Square, at the Washington Monument, in London, Paris, Berlin and Springfield. Not a word about Y2K, only happy throngs of people welcoming the new century and millennium. I know the new century and the millennium are a year away, but what the heck, I've joined the masses who have bought into the misguided notion that the 20th century has ended.

As for me, on Jan. 1, 2001, I plan to say, in a still, small voice: "So long 20th century. Hello 21st century. Hello new millennium. When all is said and done it probably doesn't matter a whole lot when people think you got here."

Unless the doomsday prognosticators are right, and the Y2K glitches they predicted won't come until sometime in the future, the world averted tragedy. Either there never was a threat, or the tragedy was preempted by the quick actions of government and business. Whichever it is, I hope we have heard the last of Y2K.

Thankfully, the Rusty Saber was Y2K compliant. It survived the prophets of doom. It's a good thing, because next week's column will mark the Saber's 17th birthday. To celebrate, my wife and I will treat the Rusty Saber to a month in Maui. Not to worry, readers. Since Y2K didn't zap my laptop, it goes on the airplane with us. The Rusty Saber will come to you via fax.

(Joe McAdoo is former chairman of the communication department at Drury College and a Springfield public relations consultant.)