Funny old world we live in. Wars and natural disasters apparently have a silver lining. Well, not for us per se, rather the economy - according to that handy time-honoured yardstick, Gross Domestic Product.
This remarkably undiscriminating gauge simply measures economic activity, and the rebuilding of Christchurch is going to require an enormous and prolonged period of activity that, in turn, will ultimately lead to a sustained boost in GDP.
And given the economy was not going anywhere prior to February 22, in the overall scheme of things, that has to be positive, doesn't it? According to the perverse material logic of GDP - which has everything to do with inputs, outputs and computations, and nothing to do with human wellbeing, either physical, spiritual or emotional - earthquakes, especially those that cause widespread damage, are a good thing.
Yeah, well, economists may prattle, but try telling that to all those people in Christchurch who have lost their homes, their businesses, and in some cases their family members or friends; all those who no longer have jobs to go to, may be unable to pay their mortgages, have had life plans or dreams dashed, ambitions skewered.
Tell that to the business owners whose lives are on hold because they are not able to access their red-stickered business premises. For them, GDP is more likely an acronym for Gross Desperation Potential - for some, it rises by the day.
And yet, amid the grief and the misery, the daily grind of starting again, there are signs the quake has had some positive spin-offs - if only in rediscovering the resilience of spirit and determination that are said to be imprinted on the Kiwi psyche; but also, for all of us, a radical, jolting reprioritising of that which truly matters in life; and, perhaps, a renewed respect for the mysteries, the uncertainties and the power of the natural world.
If the events of last month in Christchurch were insufficient to move anybody in this latter respect, then the massive 9.0-magnitude earthquake and savage tsunami that followed in Japan must have remedied this. Notwithstanding history's relatively frequent reiteration of such calamities, today's media environment lent an extraordinary immediacy and impact to the unfolding events.
The sheer scale of devastation and ruin, the unstoppable force of the tsunami, was shown "live" on our television screens. And in Christchurch, of course, the consequent destruction was right here in our own place.
We all know people who have lived through it and have suffered its seemingly arbitrary predations; some know of others who did not survive it.
The power of these earthquakes and tsunamis reminds us of our fragile hold on the landscape and that our squatter's rights are subject to unpredictable and indiscriminate forces - forces beyond our control.
We may do our best to meet their potential threats, but we can never entirely eliminate them. Living with this knowledge will alter the way we do things. It will, for instance, influence the way Christchurch is rebuilt.
The fallout, to use a currently ubiquitous term, from the Japanese nuclear crisis will invoke a reassessment of power generation and use worldwide: it already is in places such as Germany, which will decommission some of its ageing nuclear plants sooner than anticipated; and any chance of a revival of the possibility of nuclear energy in this country has probably been buried in the rubble of Christchurch and Sendai.
Not so that indomitable spirit of optimism, generosity, stoicism - and the renewed sense of what really matters.
It was as if the widespread destruction of property and buildings only served to highlight the values of family, friendship and personal relationships. One friend commented, without a hint of self-pity, that her family had lost their house and their car but that they were much better off than many.
The other day, another friend from Christchurch dropped in. She told us how it was on the day.
How she waited out the quake under her desk then, with the rest of her colleagues, got out into the streets. She spoke of the elation of being alive, and the immediate concern - her own and of those around her - for friends, spouses, children.
Where to go first?And of the kind of adrenaline-rushed "high" that appeared to infect some at the unfolding calamity around them - doubtless to be replaced, when the ground stopped shaking, by a steep increase in gross desperation potential.
• Simon Cunliffe is deputy editor (news) at the Otago Daily Times.
