The accumulation of capital depends on the ever-contracting time it takes for the objects we consume to become obsolete. Think of how frequently you have to replace your electronics before the software they use ceases to be interoperable. The constant and expanding production of stuff, the constant accrual of capital in the hands of few, depends on the obsolescence of so many of the things we use.

Eighty to ninety percent of this ever-ballooning mountain of goods travels by sea from factory to consumer. The often invisible machinery of circulation is itself subject to obsolescence, as new transportation technologies replace older modes of moving goods. Think of the standardized intermodal container. Or the cranes that move containers from ship to shore. Or the machinery, whether automated or manually operated, lifting and transporting them on land.

Both production and circulation depend on the exploitation of labor. Both produce waste, onshore, offshore, and near the shorelines. And in the interstices of both processes, there are humans on the move — workers, migrants, survivors—struggling to carve meaningful lives out of so much destruction, so much obsolescence.