We face a moment of change that puts to shame, in sheer scale, all
the other changes of our 10,000 year civil history. By the best
available models, in three years time from now our burning of
carbon-based greenhouse gas (at least in already industrialized
countries) will have needed to peak out, and start on a dramatic
downswing (4% per year reduction in use of fuels like gasoline, 9%
per year reduction in carbon-based electrical energy generation). If
we could do that, there is a chance that we could limit the eventual
total concentration of carbon-dioxide in the atmosphere to 450 parts
per million. (What that means, basically, is that, out of every one
million molecules of air, oxygen, nitrogen, methane, ozone etc.,
450 of those would be carbon-dioxide).
If we wait until, say, 2020, to make those changes, the eventual
concentration will rise to 550-650 ppm, or more. Let it be known,
though, that the carbon cuts described above are so severe, given the
ultra-short time-frame, that no government is seriously considering
making them, at this point. These kind of reductions are far removed
from the tepid negotiations being eked out at the international
climate summits in the past few years. Effectively, the human species
has made no advancement in reining ourselves in, so that we may meet
this austere carbon budget.
However, the result of even 450 ppm concentration of CO2
in the atmosphere is not mild. It will yield a global average
temperature change somewhere in the range of 3-4º
centigrade, which leads to big sea-level changes, the creation of
massive deserts, and the probable extinction of 50% or more of
species of life on Earth. Climatologists have now revised the
“climate disaster” scale, if you will, so that a 3-4º
rise is firmly in the realm of “beyond dangerous” global warming.
An eventual concentration of 550ppm would likely lead to a 6º
change in global temperature, and 660pm – that much more so.
So, folks: by some of the
newest studies (2008, 2011), we've got three to five years left to put our
oar in, steer the global industrial juggernaut in the opposite
direction from which it is currently headed, which is the exponential
increase in the release of CO2
as a by-product of
its labors. It also means that we've got a mere handful of years to
radically alter our lives.
On the political plane, it is
clear that we need to signal our willingness, as the
citizens-at-large, to support the governmental decisions that will
bring about abrupt changes to our way of life, no matter how austere
the circumstances become...if we want a future. The most powerful way
to signal this willingness, other than through electoral politics, is
by bringing our own lifestyle choices to bear, en masse, on the
commercial-corporate world that has engineered our wants, the
products that amplify those wants, and, indeed, encroached on our
definitions of life-worth-living.
When I was about nine years
old, my parents and I watched the sci-fi camp-horror movie, “The
Stuff.” It is a dry commentary on our mindless consumption: deep
underground, in a mine, a delicious substance is discovered. It is
quickly made into a commercial dessert product, and, soon, millions
of Americans are hooked on it. Problem is, it turns out that “The
Stuff” is a parasitic goo, which corrodes the inside of its
would-be consumers, and leaves their bodies as hollow shells.
The scene that stands out
particularly in my mind is one where a young boy, who learns that the
Stuff is a threat to everyone who consumes it, is standing in a
supermarket, at the head of an aisle whose shelves are lined with the
product. After taking a deep breath, he pulls out a stick, and
charges down the aisle, knocking every bottle of the Stuff to the
floor. Of course, the managers of the store, not to mention the
customers, are outraged, and attempt to apprehend the boy so that he
may face justice.
People who call attention to
the knife's edge condition of our climate are subjected to a similar
degree of consternation as well, even though the thanklessness of
what they are doing should be evidence enough that their motivations
are altruistic, that they are acting for the good of all. Like those
addicted to the Stuff, we partake of our pleasures even though we
know that we have no right to them, so long as we can pretend that
the consequences are invisible. In this way, extreme consumption is
normalized, and we are all fooling ourselves. In France, there is
reportedly a delicacy which consists of a rare songbird, eaten whole;
it is customary for the gourmand to hide beneath his napkin while he
devours this creature, to hide his sin from God. In the case of our
carbon pollution, we are all hiding under the napkin together.
If the consequences of driving
a car for frivolous reasons – say, to go down the block to the
convenience store – were obvious, we would have the moral
compunction not to do it. If a nuclear bomb exploded somewhere in the
world every time we turned the ignition key, a lot of cars would sit
silent. But, the truth is that we are inviting a future every bit as
dire as the feared “nuclear winter” that went along with Mutually
Assured Destruction during
the Cold War, and that future is coming as a promised guest. We are,
every day, mutually assuring each other of our destruction, of
widespread hunger, exile, death, but we pretend that this is normal.
Until recently, cigarette smoking was also normal, it was accepted as a right to smoke socially, and smoking was cool, while being concerned about it was decidedly not. That has now changed. We need a similar change about our obsession with new things, with comfort, with convenience, about the easy way we justify all of our personal decisions, no matter how outlandish the cost to others. We need to stop living in isolation, not knowing our neighbors, not having real conversations with each other, because isolation leads to the twin false perceptions, a) that I really am alone (so how can my contribution impact anything?), and b) that I am the center of my own universe, and what I think is important is important.
We
don't have the time-frame that we had to change public opinion about
smoking. We don't have enough people charging down the aisles,
shattering our illusions of normality when we're dancing on the
brink.
