| Hey y'all, it's Austin. As hackers held Colonial Pipeline Co. ransom over the last couple of weeks, in the process threating oil output on the Eastern Seaboard, gas prices jumped and panicked Americans rushed to the pumps. It was a painful reminder of our collective digital vulnerabilities but also, to put a positive spin on the resulting chaos, an excellent education in how physical goods get from point A to point B. The past year has offered a crash course in the fragility of supply chains. Amazon.com Inc. and Uber Technologies Inc. have so conditioned us to believe near-instant delivery is simply a tap away that we often forget the incredibly convoluted logistics that go into moving our products around the planet. Between a deadly pandemic, a big ship ending up where it's not supposed to and a gas pipeline that stopped moving gas, that has finally changed. Of course, there's really no such thing as cost-free shipping, as the Colonial Pipeline debacle showed. For one, the Georgia-based operator paid almost $5 million in extorted cryptocurrency to get the cyber attackers to restore their systems, Bloomberg reported. More to the point, freaked-out drivers quickly learned that replenishing fuel flows isn't a matter of flicking on a switch. Certainly, many people have a vague notion that oil comes from … somewhere, somehow. But this hack was a visceral example of the sprawling coordination needed to provide gas, from refineries to pipelines to trucks. "It will take several days for the product delivery supply chain to return to normal," Colonial said in a statement, which was as relevant to oil-industry analysts as it was for average people wondering when their local Citgo station would come back online. Since the beginning of the pandemic, we've been learning this lesson over and over. First there were shortages of toilet paper, hand sanitizer and other common household goods. Then, as far-flung factories temporarily shuttered for safety, we saw a crunch in consumer electronics: iPads, laptops and headsets, among other popular hardware. The world soon understood: Global supply chains were broken. More recently, consumers have suffered this reality yet again with the Suez Canal disaster and an ongoing chip shortage. After a single cargo vessel blocked one of the most important shipping lanes for a week, it became clear just how limited the infrastructure is that's used to haul Ikea beds and couches to our front door. We've also learned that a lack of the tiniest computer components can prevent us from buying Xboxes and PlayStations, Ford and BMW vehicles and even refrigerators and microwaves. And it has created an economic burden for factory workers with less to make or assemble. Ultimately, the moral here—that our beloved same-day shipping and expect-everything-now mentality has real human costs—is a good, albeit harsh, lesson for us all. Unfortunately, some people misunderstood that message. Willy Shih, who researches supply chains at Harvard Business School, recently warned that the consumer frustrations of this past year have "triggered a rise in economic nationalism," in which people are pressuring companies to move more production to their home countries. Such a shift would only likely create more vulnerabilities in the supply chain, increase prices and make things worse for more people. —Austin Carr | 
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