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Seated at his most formal White House desk, Carter was serious and effective Monday night in delineating the dimensions of the impending energy shortage. Although his words were, as always, delivered in soft Southern tones, they were blunt and stark. If the world's use of oil continues at present rates, he predicted, demand will exceed international production by the early 1980s. Just to stay even would require "the production of a new Texas every year, an Alaskan North Slope every nine months or a new Saudi Arabia every three years."
Carter called the U.S. "the most wasteful nation on earth," adding: "We waste more energy than we import." Claiming that "we can't substantially increase our domestic production," Carter said the U.S. will become perilously dependent on increasingly costly imported oil. "We could endanger our freedom as a sovereign nation to act in foreign affairs," and we would "constantly live in fear of embargoes." There would be pressure "to plunder the environment" in a crash program to expand nuclear plants, strip mining and the drilling of offshore wells. Regions within the U.S. would compete with each other for supplies. "Inflation will soar, production will go down, people will lose their jobs."
In Carter's view, the U.S. must conserve if it hopes to leave "a decent world for our children and our grandchildren." He said the sacrifices he would ask of Americans "will be painful" but also "gradual, realistic—and, above all, fair." Well aware of the difficulties in getting his program through Congress, he predicted special-interest groups would proclaim "sacrifice is fine, as long as other people do it." Pointedly looking beyond Congress, Carter predicted that the fate of his plan "will not be decided here in Washington, but in every town and every factory, in every home and on every highway and every farm."
After that alarming call to action, a packed House chamber on Wednesday night expectantly awaited the details of Carter's plan, even though most had been leaked in advance and congressional leaders had been briefed. There was a moment of apt happenstance at precisely 9 p.m., when the chamber's great center door opened and, instead of the President, a confused and disheveled James Schlesinger entered the hall. Obviously tardy, the energy adviser, who was directly responsible for putting the massive plan together in just 90 days, had to be directed to his front-row seat.