The End Is Near: Computer-Glitch as Tale in Revelation

3.22 p.m. ET (1922 GMT) August 18, 1998

By David E. Kalish  

 

Sure, it's just a software bug. But to some anxious folks, the Year 2000 computer problem may well be the next cataclysm of biblical proportions.

 

The Rev. Steve Wilkins isn't taking any chances. He recently bought a water purifier and a small mill to grind wheat into flour. Pare down debt, he advises his Presbyterian flock in Monroe, La. Maybe plant a vegetable garden.

 

David Tulis, 500 miles away in Chattanooga, Tenn., is stocking up on dehydrated food and reading about alternate power sources. From time to time, he drops by Wal-Mart for some extra ammunition.

 

"I try to do a little every day," explains Tulis, a newspaper copy editor.

 

Firearms for a computer flaw, a software glitch that confuses some computers into thinking 2000 is a century earlier?

 

Fearful folks scattered across the country are preparing for a man-made disaster they fear could make hurricanes seem like a summer breeze. They're sinking assets into gold, installing solar panels, packing pantries with powdered milk and canned goods.

 

Ammunition? Could be looting and riots.

 

Solar energy? Blackouts, too.

 

Gold? Downed computers may toss banks into a tizzy.

 

The super-cautious crowd may be overreacting, several Year 2000 experts say. Why board up the windows for a mere thunderstorm?

 

"There are people who are running off to the hills and buying Uzis. I think that's the lunatic fringe," says Peter de Jager, a well-known Year 2000 pundit who, nevertheless, warns of potentially catastrophic computer failures.

 

If people "run away screaming into the night," de Jager says, "then we have given up all hope."

 

Better to be safe than sorry, a minority of others argue. Let business and government boast of the billions they're spending for pricey programmers, consultants and systems analysts to mend countless lines of computer code and make software "Year 2000 compliant."

 

That's just hype, in some minds.

 

More than 80 percent of large U.S. firms, in fact, are behind schedule in fixing their computer bugs by 2000, according to a survey by the Cap Gemini America consulting firm. Experts say the failure of computers to correctly read dates could trigger disruptions in commerce, finance, power supplies and other mainstays of civilization. Some fear the flaws could even perplex systems like control panels for nuclear warheads.

 

Mindful of their valued disaster-relief roles, some religious groups preach extra caution, urging churches to invest in electric generators and install temporary living quarters for those caught without heat in winter.

 

The Presbyterian church in Monroe taped a 90-minute survival video urging people to stow emergency medicine and buy hand tools that don't run on electricity. About 200 people have bought the $10 primer.

 

The Southern Baptist denomination goes further, seeing the Year 2000 problem as a recruiting tool to help add to its nearly 16 million members. The potential for computer woes offers "historic evangelism opportunities," says a recent article in the Baptist Press, the denomination's news service.

 

"Whenever there have been significant societal events, such as the Mississippi River flooding or Hurricane Andrew, Southern Baptists have been there to minister," says Art Toalston, editor at the Baptist Press.

 

To drive home his point, he cites the New Testament, Luke 4:18:

 

"Jesus says, `The spirit of the Lord is upon him ... to preach gospel to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted."'

 

So let computers crash, cityscapes darken, financial markets evaporate. They'll be ready.

 

Hundreds of customers helped boost sales 40 percent this year at Emergency Essentials Inc., a small Utah maker of emergency supplies packed in gallon-size cans that don't rust.

 

Kevin Rogers, a repair shop owner, says he wants to build a shed in his Chattanooga backyard to stow up to three months' supply of transmission parts worth $75,000.

 

People like him will be ready for the high-tech Big One.

 

The worriers stand out in a society numbed by disasters; many people are only vaguely aware a global computer bug could gum up the societal works. But among other folks, the world's crazy mesh of phone, cable and power lines has spurred anxiety; electronics control so much of life, from bedside alarm clocks to the New York Stock Exchange.

 

"I spoke to my father the other night," Rogers says from his Tennessee transmission shop. "He's cashing out all of his mutual funds this year, and taking the penalties and paying the taxes."

 

"I think the odds of there being a crisis is 100 percent," he says. "The odds of it being serious is impossible to predict."