climate change

Chart / January

NEWSFLASH: I’m back.

It’s been a while since I did one of these….September, in fact. The reasons are myriad: I relocated to Athens, Pacific State needed a promotin’ (number #1 for cyberpunk in the USA last week!), and I have a few projects keeping me busy. Two days ago I wrote the last line of a neo-Western thriller I’ve been working on for a year. Perfect timing, because from mid-February I’ll be in residence at JOYA: AiR, a not-for-profit, carbon-positive arts residency supporting artistic projects “at the intersection between creativity and the environment”. My residency will last for three weeks, during which I hope to sketch out the structure for a new masculinity and climate-focused novel and write the first chapter.

Book of the month: Hyperion by Dan Simmons. I’d been aware of this book for many years, but I’d never actually paid it much attention beyond the gnarly cover art. For some reason, I’d assumed it was written in the 1960s. WRONG. It’s a mashup of Conrad, Gibson and Homer. And it’s fantastic. Not since the Three-Body Problem have I read science fiction so rich, with 10+ fully fleshed characters all with their own incredibly well-constructed stories. The world-building is flawless, the language varied and the dissection of religion compelling.

Film of the month:

In November Criterion put up a selection of ‘end of the world’ films, with some of the usual suspects including Mad Max, Threads and Escape From New York. I’m still working my way through the titles I’ve never heard of. Two I did watch were Dead End Drive-In and Night Of The Comet. Both distinctly B-movie, both rough around the edges, both with dodgy pacing, paper-thin characters and editing choices (Night has a pivotal scene where most of the world is turned into red dust by a comet passing overhead…all we see of this catastrophe is one woman closing her eyes and uttering a bored ‘oh’). The saving grace: the sets, costume design and cinematography (particular for Drive-In). Wow. Neon-soaked cities, orange horizons, bloodied skies. It more than makes up for dialogue like “Yeaaaah my name’s Crabsy, because people thought I had crabs, But I don’t”. That’s the protagonist saying it. Our hero. The guy we want to believe in.

Buena Vista Music Club:

1 The Beaches - Blame Brett

2 Phoebe Bridgers - Scott Street

3 sign crushes motorist - theres this girl

4 Pinegrove - Need 2

5 flyingfish - wonder if u care

6 Soap&Skin - Me and the Devil

Green Growth is Green Death

Green Growth is Green Death

In the 21st century, times change quickly. Like that esoteric band you’ve always liked being unexpectedly nominated for the Mercury Prize, last year was the year the climate crisis finally broke through into the mainstream. The Extinction Rebellion, global climate strikes, the UN Climate Action Summit, Greta Thunberg: for better or worse, everybody had an opinion when it came to this planet’s ecology. This year, as virtually everyone in the world knows, is the Year of the Pandemic. And one major element of this most unwelcome of developments is that COVID-19 has pushed the climate crisis into the background (despite being intrinsically linked to it). What has been foregrounded instead is the need to ‘save’ the economy rather than the planet we live on.

So, after having taken a break from the subject for a few months, I’ve decided to go back to beating my drum about the environment. Because, ultimately, despite COVID having killed hundreds of thousands of people so far, this is small change compared to the suffering that a near-uninhabitable planet is set to cause us all.

Green growth – a contradiction in terms

As a translator, I read texts every day about the need for companies to transform their business models to focus on green growth. I’m talking long blah-blah sentences like: “In an age where the industry has wrought near-irreparable destruction on the planet, we now have the chance to change how we do business and invest in efficient technologies that pave the way for 100% green growth and the environmentally sustainable evolution of society as a whole”. Leaving aside the fact that these companies virtually always make it sound as though they aren’t actually complicit in the global destruction-fest (note the non-personal collective noun, ‘industry’, instead of ‘we’), this appears pretty promising at first glance. Carbon-neutral tech, cleaner air, fewer trees chopped down, secure jobs, an economy safeguarded – who doesn’t want that?

But there’s only so many times you can read this kind of corporate call to arms before you start to ask what ‘green growth’ actually means and how it’s supposed to work.

As an article by Jason Hickel on the website Systemic Alternatives points out, “even under the best conditions, absolute decoupling of GDP from resource use is not possible on a global scale”. Hickel offers support for this conclusion in the form of an experiment conducted by a team of German scientists back in 2012, which created a computer model to chart global resource consumption. The team then ran a scenario in which every nation on Earth immediately adopted the current best practices on resource usage. What they found was that resource consumption rose from its then-current rate of 70 billion tons a year to 93 billion tons by 2050.

A slightly different experiment was conducted by another team in 2016, with virtually the same results: even after improving the best practices for resource consumption, the model showed a resource burn-through rate of 95 billion tons by 2050. While the 93–95 billion mark would represent putting the brakes on the free-for-all buffet-style approach we’re currently taking toward the planet, this is still a significant rise in resource use. With that comes vast CO2 emissions, warmer seas, drier land, more extreme weather events and the ongoing mass extinction of flora and fauna.

That’s even assuming we ever end up implementing those best practices, of course. Since the Paris Agreement was signed in 2016,  none of the major industrialised nations have followed through on the policies they set out, nor have they met their emission reduction targets. The USA has withdrawn from the agreement entirely. We can probably assume, then, that 95 billion tons is nothing more than a fantasy figure.

What this means, as the Systemic Alternatives article sums up so well, is that you can commit to efficient technologies and practices and organisational structures all you want, but you’ll still be part of the capitalist system – a system based on private ownership, materialism, unequal distribution of wealth and power, and widespread economic instability. Yes, you can have solar, wind and hydroelectric energy, but it’ll still be used to power the engine that drives consumer culture. As ever, these new developments will make some people richer and others poorer; the majority of the people who gain will use their wealth to pay for novel products and experiences (because that’s what we do), while those who lose will continue to work like dogs in the hope that one day, we’ll be able to move out of the kennel and into the big house. What a model of green economic growth absolutely won’t be doing is making every effort to limit the rise in the planet’s temperature to a manageable level.

You could say, then, that green growth is so called not because of any commitment to ecological preservation; it’s green because it’s going to keep the dollars flowing.

It isn’t just fringe websites that are pointing this out. A host of prominent media outlets and academic journals have highlighted the fact that “over-reliance on promises of new technology to solve climate change is enabling delay” and that “we can be green or we can have growth, but we can’t have both together” – at least not within the time frame we’ve set ourselves to put the brakes on the Anthropocene and ensure our home remains halfway habitable.

Deep social adaptation

An article on the website The Conversation by Geoff Mulgan, CEO of the charity Nesta, makes the case that in order for humanity to truly get to grips with the climate crisis, we need to weave zero-carbon living into the fabric of society. As he points out, this would require such steps as

[providing] more support for places that are deliberately pioneering new ways of life – like Freiburg in Germany, which has gone further than anywhere in designing new lifestyles into its physical structures, for example by banning and restricting cars

and

backing the thousands of local food projects around the world that are weaning people off dependence on agri-business and meat and cutting food waste.

That’s just the microplastic particle on the tip of the rapidly melting iceberg, though. On the most macro of scales, we need to invest – and genuinely believe – in a model of degrowth rather than exponential growth. As was established during the Second International Conference on Economic Degrowth for Ecological Sustainability and Social Equity in Barcelona in 2010, degrowth would mean, among other things, banning or imposing extreme restrictions on private vehicle usage, flights, consumption of meat and dairy, commuting and most forms of retail. It would mean the elimination of mega infrastructure projects such as the building of new roads, runways, bridges, tunnels, seaports, power plants, etc. It would require the introduction of a basic income and the appropriation of empty residential units for those who need them. It would mean facilitating the transition to not-for-profit and volunteer-based business models. It would require us to smash the advertising industry entirely. It would mean replacing GDP as our primary indicator of prosperity with the collective and individual well-being of people and the planet.

To manage this, we would need to bring about a sea change in the way we view the world, the way we work, and the approach we take to our lives as individuals. Part of that would mean working not because we wish to accumulate wealth, but because we love the essence of what we do and the effect it has on our personal and collective well-being. What about the jobs nobody enjoys? Maybe then those fabled ‘efficient technologies’ could come into play; alternatively, the work could be shared between all. Whatever the case, the prevailing belief would have to be that we exist to serve ourselves, not to service an invisible economy. Sound selfish? Maybe not: as Wilde said, “Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live; it is asking other people to live as one wishes to live.” We are asked day in, day out by a handful of people at the top of the tree to exist within a framework that benefits them only. The alternative – doing that which nourishes us physically, intellectually and spiritually – sounds much more appealing, at least to me.

All quite revolutionary and even (gasp) socialist ideas. And they’re nothing new, either. But they may just end up being necessary. That is, if we don’t want life to be one long pandemic after extreme weather event after famine after the other (I, for one, do not). For the record, I have absolutely no faith at all that we could implement deep social adaptation on this scale. Then again, I’m a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist. The point, though, is that the answers to the problems are out there. Green growth, worshipping at the altar of efficiency and magic bullet technologies are most certainly not it.

the soundtrack to this article is Green Machine by Kyuss.

the soundtrack to this article is Green Machine by Kyuss.

We need to use apocalyptic language for apocalyptic times

As Aldous Huxley wrote in Brave New World, “Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly. They’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.” Despite living in the age of Netflix, YouTube, six-second ads and 1.8 billion images uploaded to the Internet every single day, the written word hasn’t yet lost its power to captivate, compel or cause foundations to come crumbling down. More self-published books are being released than ever before, the blog publishing platform Medium is in the top 200 most-visited websites worldwide, and text still accounts for one-third of all content online. For the time being, at least, our thirst for the written word remains unquenchable.

Although we live in an era characterised by misinformation, spurious data and ‘facts’ made up to fit the story, we tend to believe what we read, too. As Leetaru points out in Forbes, “Citizens are taught from an early age to accept information provided by elites, from the government to the mainstream media to academia, on face value without question.” Having dived head first into, and then proceeding to swim through, the rivers of data that accompany the Information Age, this idea of the ‘elite’ has now expanded to include anybody who sounds remotely like an authority, people who shout louder than others, and contrarians who adopt controversial positions to entertain and enrage. Even more worryingly, the (fairly) recent erosion of trust in government bodies and the media in particular has caused us to turn to populist rhetoric as a means of shaping our understanding of the world. Instead of relying on—for the most part—rigorously checked facts, figures and accounts, we cherry-pick from a smorgasbord of headlines and soundbites that have been assembled purely to attract attention and push up the click rate.

This is obviously dangerous in many respects.  One person might read an article spearheaded by a quote stating that migration flows to Europe are “hopelessly out of control” (even though, as Patrick Kingsley notes in The New Odyssey, migration accounts for just 0.2% of the continent’s population). That person then demands that the borders be closed, loses faith in the current government and gradually turns to more extreme alternatives to stem the tide. The result: political parties such as Alternative für Deutschland in Germany or Rassemblement national in France get a foot in the door of parliament. Another person’s attention might be drawn to a piece warning about how vegan diets “end up in disaster”. With phrases as doom-laden as this littered throughout the article, the person dismisses veganism outright, even though the claim on which the piece is based—that veganism is a diet rather than a movement and a philosophy—is utterly false.

But…what if we could harness this sensationalist approach to information for good? What if the loudest headlines were the ones on top of articles that weren’t attempting to misinform, spread hatred or denigrate heartfelt beliefs, but which sought to educate us, bring us together, perhaps even scare us into action? What if we dismantled the mental barriers that are currently holding us back using the very tools that built them in the first place?

This brings me to the language we use to talk about climate change. Until recently, the words we relied on to describe the anthropogenic impact on the environment were, by all standards, pretty benign. ‘Change’, for example, suggests a gradual, not unpleasant slide into a new situation that we might be able to harness for our benefit – like, say, if we were to switch jobs. What it doesn’t suggest is that we are currently ankle-deep in a sixth mass extinction event. There is no urgency when we say ‘climate change’, nothing that suggests we need to do anything on a personal level to arrest it. ‘Global warming’ is another term that lacks bite. Popularised by a NASA scientist who presented findings to the US Congress in the 1980s linking greenhouse gases to the heating of the planet, it is a phrase that suggests long summers, brief winters and a slight temperature rise for everybody. It is this kind of language that has confused people to the extent that on days where the mercury plunges, naysayers are quick to trot out the line “Where’s your precious global warming now?”, as if the entire matter boils down to it being sunny or not.

Thankfully, we are starting to see a switch to stronger terms. The Guardian, for example, has changed its house style guide to recommend the use of terms such as ‘climate crisis’ and ‘global heating’. This is a step in the right direction. Heating is not the same as warming. Heat, after a point, becomes uncomfortable. If the entire world is heating up, we aren’t imagining that we’ll simply wear less and stock up on sun tan; it is aligned much more with images of melting ice caps, rising sea levels, vast dust bowls and bleached skeletons in the middle of the desert. A crisis, meanwhile, captures the public imagination. The Financial Crisis. The Cuban Missile Crisis. The Crisis in Venezuela. The Oxford Dictionary’s definition of crisis is “A time of intense difficulty or danger.” This is the time we are in, though we may not have realised it quite yet given that we’re still surrounded by the bubble we’ve blown for ourselves. Even so, the more we read that this is a Crisis Era and the more we hear it being shouted from the rafters, the more we may begin to believe it.

The United Kingdom has gone one step further on the terminology front. On 1 May—during a break from the slapstick routine it has been performing on the international stage since mid-2016—the British government declared that humanity is in the midst of a climate emergency. It grabbed the headlines. It made people stop and think, at least for a moment. An emergency is immediate, an unwanted, potentially dangerous situation requiring action right now. The British government’s announcement was followed by a climate and biodiversity emergency declaration from the Republic of Ireland on 10 May, Canada on 17 June, New York City on 26 June and Sydney on 1 July. With town and city councils all over Europe, North America and Australia indicating their support for this type of declaration, more national governments are surely set to follow.

Other outlets are employing language designed to challenge and provoke in the environmental arena, too. Looking through a recent Extinction Rebellion newsletter reveals the use of highly charged words and phrases such as ‘ecological collapse’, ‘genocidal impact’, and ‘act now with love and rage’. Similarly, the website thinkprogress.org doesn’t shy away from speaking about ‘catastrophic collapse’ and ‘terrible human suffering’, and describes the Hothouse Earth scenario as being akin to triggering a rockslide or avalanche where total destruction is unavoidable. These are the kind of X-ray words that Huxley was talking about, the ones that pierce us to the very core, galvanise our imaginations, cause cold beads of sweat to roll down our backs.

We need this kind of incendiary language to be applied across all relevant articles and content. If discord, vitriol and pithy summations work so well to whip up fear and anger among certain sections of society, why shouldn’t they have the same effect on society’s discourse about the climate crisis? The time for sober discussion, impartial reports and articles quoting scientists as being “concerned” about the evolution of the anthropocene is over. Now is when we have to use every weapon we have in our arsenal to pierce the minds of as many people around the world as possible—even if those weapons include ramping up our language choices to blockbuster levels. Genocide, annihilation, extinction, devastation, conflagration, perdition, death, suffering, starvation. Use them all. We have to catch the eye, appeal to selfish outlooks, elicit fear, shame people, dismantle mental blocks. We need to push back against terms intended to downplay the crisis, like the dystopian ‘molecules of freedom’ recently dreamt up by the Trump administration’s Ministry of Truth. We have to make others believe that human-made genocide truly is just around the corner, and get people to act and vote and change because of it. We have to do everything and anything to stop the sleepwalker—humanity—from stepping off the cliff. Because if we fall, there’s nothing at the bottom to catch us. Terry Pratchett once said that “Before you can kill the monster you have to say its name.” Let’s start calling the monster of climate cataclysm for what it is. Then we might just have a chance at going about killing it.

rising.

rising.

Guest post on author Kate Vane's website

I wrote a post explaining - a little verbosely - how By the Feet of Men came about and how important it is for every creative voice (even those with the smallest audience) to scream from the rafters about the climate crisis until we all wake up and do something drastic about it.

Thanks to Kate Vane, who has written four (!) books of her own. All of which look tasty.

https://katevane.com/2019/06/17/guest-post-grant-price-author-of-by-the-feet-of-men/

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