I was going to call this story a ‘2020 vision’ which I thought sounded a bit clever but luckily I thought first I’d better look up Google, the columnist’s new-found friend.

Every organisation on the planet appears to have a 2020 vision, about 2.2 million of them, so I’ll settle for a 2019 vision of which there are fewer than 850,000. So anyway, on with the story:

One morning in the year 2019, Tom woke and looked out the window. Hmm, overcast and not much wind, not a good power day, he should’ve washed his clothes the day before. In the kitchen the power meter was showing in the red zone, meaning fossil fuel was burning to keep up with the current demand so the price was a bit high for using the washing machine.

Not to worry, he put his dirty clothes in the machine anyway, set the usual dials then set the energy timer to start the machine if the power meter went into the green during the day meaning that solar and wind were now online. Of course he could just bung the machine on like people used to do in the old careless days, but he would pay a hefty price.

Everyone these days had a power meter inside the house that showed how the electricity was being made at any given moment, green for renewable, red for fossil and a black zone meaning imminent outage. It also showed how much was being used, or in some people’s cases supplied, at any time by the house’s occupants and best of all, a counter in dollars and cents with the amount owing to, or owed by, the electricity supplier.

It looked like toast would cost $3.50 today so he settled for a bowl of meusli and skipped his cup of tea. He jumped onto his bike and pedalled away down the road to the bus stop.

All the regulars were there – school kids, workers and shoppers. Right on time, up glided the ‘DannVan’, as it was known locally in honour of the old fella who lived up the road. He had been one of the first voices to point out the all-round benefit of people working collectively.

The light-weight electric bus made easy work of the short run into Braidwood where the Canberra bus was waiting at the interchange. Tom swiped his carbon card as he got on the big highway cruising bus and headed for a comfy seat in the music section.

The turning point for public transport had been the introduction of the carbon card. Travelling by bus or train clocked up far fewer carbon debits than were imposed at the petrol pump. As more people used public transport, the carbon emission of the nation was reduced and the government soon realised that every dollar spent upgrading public transport was a win for everyone.

Tom really liked the bus. He passed the journey time checking out the latest demo music from the onboard multi-channel music player. Other passengers chatted or read, the nerdy types plugged into the blisteringly fast wireless internet and got straight on with the day’s work.

Before the bus arrived in Canberra, because it was now raining, Tom and the other passengers selected their destinations using the console on the seat back in front of them. The route computer at mini-bus central worked it all out and dispatched the appropriate vehicles to meet them at the terminal. Once again, a swipe of the card was all that was required.

It was a good life.