At most every port in the world, there is a person who serves as the harbor pilot. The harbor pilot is charged with taking a small boat out to meet the monstrous container ships that contain your sweater (or my bag, or her sneakers) as they pull into port. The harbor pilot saddles their boat up alongside the giant cargo ship, locates a rope ladder thrown overboard, and scrambles up it. Once safely on board the cargo ship, the harbor pilot deftly guides the bigger boat through the final passage to docking. “[The harbor pilot] is the least automated thing in the whole process,” says Christopher Mims, the author of the new book Arriving Today: From Factory to Front Door—Why Everything Has Changed about How and What We Buy. And the humanness of a role like the harbor pilot’s, he explains, is one reason the global supply chain is presently tied up in horrific knots.
“Supply chain issues” has become a catch-all term for practically everything ailing consumers at the moment. Thanksgiving and Christmas? Cancelled because of supply chain issues. Can’t find Sour Patch Kids, affordable gas, that shirt you wanted online, or even fish sticks? Blame the supply chain. But the phrase has a way of obfuscating the elaborate and often human process involved in transporting goods from one place to another—or even creating them in the first place. Mims first learned about the harbor pilot, while reporting and writing his book, and kept coming back to the role. The job is so dangerous that one in 20 die over the course of their career—all in the name of shortening the gap between us and our stuff.
The problem we’re confronting, Mims explains, isn’t so much a broken supply chain but the limits we’ve pushed it to. As opportunities to travel, stay in hotels, or spend a day at the local fancy spa have evaporated, consumers have poured that money into tangible goods: they’re redoing their kitchens, planting hot tubs in their backyards, and buying more sneakers than ever. Save for unplugging the supply chain and then plugging it back in, Mims says consumers hoping to lessen the strain on the supply chain should keep heeding the same advice we’ve heard for years. “We can be more conscientious about how much we consume and we can make things last longer,” he says. “You know, all the things that Patagonia wants us to do.”
We talked to Mims about his perfectly timed book, what’s really behind the supply chain, and why the hell our sneakers aren’t being delivered.
GQ: Let's say, hypothetically, that I've ordered a pair of sneakers and they're heavily delayed. What are the major factors contributing to that?
Christopher Mims: Your sneakers started life, potentially, as fracked natural gas in the panhandle of Texas, and then it's liquefied and shipped to China. There are these very specialized plastics manufacturers there that synthesize the hydrocarbons and natural gas into synthetic thread, which is then going to be woven into a special fabric. And only then does it go to wherever it's going to get sewn into something. So [if] you think of that point as the beginning of the journey, it's not.