On a Radical Vision of Future Earth

I grabbed this book, by meteorologist Eric Holthaus, as soon as it went on sale, excited to check out the new vision of how we can all better live together. There's lots of information for the uninitiated, and then it becomes sort of a fictional narrative. There are no characters or plot to speak of, instead it's a description of what needs to happen but written entirely in the past tense, as if it already happened. He seems to think this is how we'll better imagine what it all looks like when we solve this crisis. And it all really doesn't work (as a book and as a concept to save us), which I find a bit heartbreaking to tell you the truth. But good job trying something original, I guess.

It's being billed by the publisher as "the first hopeful book about climate change," which ignores so many many hopeful books out there: most recently Michael Mann's Madhouse Effect and George Monbiot's Out of the Wreckage, and, going way back, Chris Turner's The Geography of Hope, which was a fantastic read about people actually getting shit done. I checked the publisher's page because the book has a self-published feel to it from the get go: cliché phrases and incorrect comma use, and a weird organization - part 1 is about a third of the book without any chapters, and part 2 has just three chapters, all followed by a very lengthy epilogue. But, nope. It's Harper-Collins. Curious.

Courage Over Hope

This got a little out of control, so I added in pictures! But there is suddenly tons in the news about climate change, and many excellent videos to watch.

Jeremy Deaton wrote in the Huffington Post last week:

Ultimately, the idea that regular people can’t be told the full implications of climate change is condescending. Scientists, writers and advocates might consider that they go to work every day understanding the enormity of climate change, and yet they are able to do their jobs. The men and women who work on climate change are not made of tougher stuff, and they need not obscure the awful truth about the carbon crisis. People can take it. In fact, they’ll have to. Perhaps what makes it possible for advocates to continue their work is not a surplus of hope or an absence of fear, but a sense of duty. They respond to their grief with a righteous anger, to their panic with bravery, to their desolation with solidarity.

Eco-Hypocrites: Flights of the Anti-Flyers

I was just contemplating my own hypocrisy when I came across this NYTimes Op Ed on hypocrisy. Likely I'm not the only one in this position of explaining away, or coming to terms with, behaviour very contrary to my ethics. I've written before that nobody should board an aircraft for a luxury trip, and then I took my family to Costa Rica over the break.

The Op Ed discussed a study that shows why hypocrisy is so irritating:

"We contend that the reason people dislike hypocrites is that their outspoken moralizing falsely signals their own virtue. People object, in other words, to the misleading implication.... the principal offense of a hypocrite is not that he violates his own principles, but rather that his use of moral proclamations falsely implies that he himself behaves morally."

At a recent Christmas party when people spoke of the many trips about to be travelled, I asked, "How do you justify the trip to yourself knowing the damage it has on the environment?" Now, before you look at me sideways, I meant is as a legitimate question regardless how inconsiderately I likely worded it. It's something I'm struggling with, and I really want to know what others do. Is it denial? or rationalization? or apathy? How do we all act in ways counter to our own long term survival? But, of course, it's taken as a judgment. The main reaction was "You're going on a trip, so now you can't talk!"

This is only correct in part. It's correct in terms of offering a judgment of others, which is what the authors of the Op Ed are getting at. We can't rightly say to someone, "You're a bad person for wearing shoes in the house," while we currently have our shoes on in the house. That's a problem. But I'm not claiming that people are bad, but that certain actions are a problem that have to be dramatically reduced. It's similar to the reaction (often gleeful) some people have when a grammar teacher makes a grammar error. It doesn't mean that we shouldn't promote good grammar despite our own fallibility.

My rebuttal to the comment was, "Sure I can!" because we all need to stop travelling for leisure. Including me. I feel horribly guilty for taking a trip, and I really want to know how others manage those feelings when they're making travel arrangements.

There's another view out there that people are upset by claims of moral action because it forces them to reassess their own actions comparatively, and they're angry when they think they fall short of appropriate or admirable behaviour. That's actually pretty much the same thing, but it has a difference feel to it. It puts the problem in the hands of the audience's reaction to factual statements like, "I don't own a car, or I'm vegan." They feel their conception of themselves as moral human beings threatened. The authors of this view recognize that it's often an unintended implication that's read into the statement of concern. It's not the speaker behaving falsely, as the speaker can be well aware of their own flaws, but the audience who assumes it's bragging rather than concern.

The Op Ed author suggest that admitting wrong-doing helps. I do this already when I talk about the morality of eating animals because I've personally focused on reduction rather than strict restriction. But I intend to remember to do this in all cases:

"To further test our theory, we asked people to judge “non-signaling” hypocrites: those who hypocritically condemn behaviors they engage in, but who explicitly avoid implying anything virtuous about their personal behavior — by saying, for instance, “I think it’s morally wrong to waste energy, but I sometimes do it anyway.” We found that people judged these non-signaling hypocrites much more positively than they judged traditional hypocrites. In fact, they let these non-signaling hypocrites entirely off the hook, rating them as no worse than those who engaged in the same bad behavior but did not condemn others for it."

But I'm not going to stop talking about doing everything we can possibly do to slow down climate change. As Mill said,

Human beings owe to each other help to distinguish the better from the worse, and encouragement to choose the former and avoid the latter. They should be for ever stimulating each other to increased exercise of their higher faculties, and increased direction of their feelings and aims towards wise instead of foolish objects and contemplation. 

We think we have a right to everything we want to have or see or be, and that doesn't just damage our planet, but, I'd argue, it does a number on our ability to ever be content.


How DO People Cope with the Guilt, and Why Did I Finally Break?

I fell deep into rationalizations.

I first agreed to my daughter's request for a trip because I was terrified of getting surgery, and I thought an upcoming trip would help distract me (because flying is more scary for me than being cut open!). I was right. It was a useful distraction in the weeks leading up to my operation. None of the things I worried about actually happened on the trip, but there was a volcano that grounded all planes for the two days before we were scheduled to leave. I didn't even know to worry about that.

But once that came and went, then it became a promise to my children (which shows a lack of the skill of measurement, going for a short term gain that provokes a long term loss). Somehow it seemed better that it was for them and that I wouldn't actually enjoy it. I hate travelling and hot climates. I don't really understand standing in line after line in a crowded airport in order to go to a place with the temperature of a Canadian heat wave, something I typically barely tolerate, in order to have fun or relax constantly surrounded by people without the hope of time alone for eight solid days. I'm really good at having fun and relaxing in my own home all by myself!

And I convinced myself it's okay because I do it so much less than many (but way more than far more others, so that falls apart too). It's the same way I rationalize eating turkey at Christmas. It does help to do it less, to consider it a rare treat, but it helps more not to do it at all.

And I figured it might be okay because we booked an eco-lodge. The place was lovely, and I asked a ton of questions about how they operate it. They considered going off-grid, but decided it wouldn't make sense to since Costa Rica runs on 100% renewable energy. They catch rain water and dry laundry (they did all our laundry) with the sun in a greenhouse-type set-up, collect sewage in a biodigester, and compost all food waste. All the food was local, the water was solar heated, and they cooled the room with fans and thick curtains rather than A/C.

 

BUT, it was all-inclusive with meals already prepared for us as we arrived at each meal. I told them ahead of the trip that we had no allergies or aversions and didn't claim vegetarian status because I wanted to eat how they eat, but, really, they fed us how typical tourists might want to eat. It was a ton of food and lots and lots of meat. After a couple days, my kids ignored desert and asked instead for a plate of raw vegetables. The owners of the resort laughed at our unusual request - and at how excited we all got at some broccoli at the side of our plates one night. I hate seeing food go to waste, so I finished my plate and then went to work on the kids' leftovers. Despite hiking through the jungle every day, I managed to gain weight. It was delicious, but we could have managed on portions half the size. Resorts are all about luxury and an expectation of gluttony seems to go along with that.

My modified swim wear.

And the trip became a trial run for wearing tank tops and a bikini on the beach surrounded by total strangers a mere six weeks after a double mastectomy. It was far too hot to be discrete and cover up any more than the bare minimum. As soon as we got to our room, we'd all strip down to our skivvies. The heat forced me to come to terms with my new body shape, and swimming in the ocean helped my arm mobility.

Most striking to me, was the social rewards mounted on people who travel. I was congratulated for planning a trip and taking it. People wanted to hear all about the plans and the results. It's hard to avoid such a normalized behaviour or consider it a luxury when, in some circles, it's presented as a necessity.

But none of this erases the fact that jet fuel creates as many GHGs in two hours per person on the flight as a typical person creates in a year.


A Better Way to Relieve Guilt

The best way to ease guilt is to do something about it: in this case to buy carbon offsets. The David Suzuki organization has a step-by-step guide explaining the rationale behind purchasing the highest quality offsets, but it still takes significant effort to find a good company for investment. Many airlines have offset calculators with preselected companies (which might use a closer look) or suggested companies. Those two calculators gave very different amounts for the identical destinations: $60 for Air Canada and $20 for Delta. But really, that's a drop in the bucket for the cost of the trip. And it doesn't entirely alleviate my guilt. It's still morally wrong to take more that you need in a way that deprives others in future.

Instead of using the calculators to try to find some kind of accurate amount, I went old school - back to my churchly days of tithing. Sending ten percent of the price of the flight to an environmental organization that preserves forests or created renewable energy or opposes fossil fuel pipelines might be a good practice to begin implementing: a personally imposed carbon tax on harmful practices. It's a small price to pay for some semblance of peace of mind for those who can afford the luxury of a destination vacation.

ETA - And here's a video my son made of the trip:

On Our Right to Choose

I understand gender identity and sexual orientation both as potentially fluid. It's not the case that they can be made to change, so we still need to ban straightenating camps and the like, but that they can sometimes evolve over time. Or, if they're rigid, then it might be the case that our self-awareness evolves over time. Either way...

Sexual orientation isn't a choice. Absolutely. And once we feel safe enough that enough people acknowledge that, we can look at the fluidity of orientation. Sometimes it seems to shift. A person might strongly identify as gay and then meet that one person of the opposite sex that turns their head. It happens. It still doesn't make it a choice. But it is possible for things to move slightly over time. It's always a bit of a gamble to be dogmatic about who we are as stable, immutable beings. I don't think that's as contentious an idea as it once was. So, can we acknowledge that gender identity might also have the potential for fluidity?

I was recently introduced to the notion of gender identity being on a range from high to low intensity, which I find useful as a concept.



Mine is very low, but I understand the importance of identity being recognized by others. I'm an environmentalist, and that part of my identity has a much stronger intensity, which was revealed to me when someone questioned it, as in, "The fact that you don't own a car is meaningless since you've rented cars and have been a passenger in cars. You're obviously not a real environmentalist." That bothered me far more than someone questioning my gender or orientation.

So, it's vital for people to be able to present themselves as they see themselves, however that is. I could get into a whole can of worms about self-identifying as a writer or actor or expert of some field, but that's a story for another day. Being an environmentalist isn't a direct analogy, merely a means to develop empathy. It can be difficult to understand the importance of something we don't feel ourselves. It makes it no less important if we don't understand the experience; strong feelings around gender identity is not just a trend or a means to feel special. We find ways to elicit a similar emotion in ourselves in order to provoke our compassion when it's hard to understand experiences directly.

But. If gender identity is also potentially fluid over time (I don't mean gender fluid as an identity here), then there's a small chance that someone wanting surgery could have some regrets later on. In fact, it seems for some people that banking on surgery actually changing their lives for the better can lead to profound disappointment. Yet children with gender dysphoria can get hormone blockers at 11 or 12, and surgery at 16.

It feels like something we're not supposed to talk about. It's like talking about people who regret having had an abortion. If we acknowledge it, then it could make abortions harder to access, so we don't talk about it too openly even though it's a very real thing. Although it can be a difficult process, with no guarantees, I feel strongly that both should remain a legal, accessible option. For sexual reassignment surgery, regret seems relatively rare. (I can't find any numbers that I feel confident about - that aren't mired in hyperbolic language.) The few who might grieve their old self shouldn't affect the possibility of help for the many.

This is where I turn a corner into different territory. It's the case that people can get gender reassignment surgery at 16 after consistently indicating they have gender dysphoria. This surgery dramatically affects later childbearing possibilities: Although sperm and eggs can be frozen for later use, it's necessary to have further medical interventions to have children. And some people do regret the decision to have the surgery.

BUT. Young adults who feel strongly that they never want to have children can't get surgically sterilized. They too might regret the decision, and if they do, they too could freeze sperm or eggs for later use just in case. It would require further medical intervention later on, but we accept that risk with gender dysphoria. Or, as one young adult told me, "If I have the surgery now, and later on I want kids, then it forces me to adopt. And if it's difficult to adopt an infant here, I'll have to adopt an older child or a child from another country. If I really want a child, I can care for a child that already exists and doesn't have anyone else to care for it."

When children or teenagers say they identify as a different gender than indicated on their birth certificate, we don't question it. We're fully supportive. But when teenagers or young adults in their early 20s say they never want kids, we universally say, "You will when you're older." Is it the case that 16-year-olds are old enough to know who they are, or isn't it?

Or is this a false analogy? It could be the case that it's more likely for people to be sure about their gender than to be sure about their lifestyle. Yet there are teens who really want kids, and we don't warn them that hey might not when they're older, or that they'll be sorry if they have some (even though they certainly might). We want them to wait for financial and maturity reasons, not because we think they could change their minds. We all really lean in the one direction. Teenagers who fit our cultural and evolutionary norms of development are accepted as knowing their preferred future identity as a parent. Teens who don't fit, clearly don't know their own minds. Funny that.

It's hard for us breeders to understand, but we must accept that experience. It might shift over time; it is possible, but we can't make people live today planning their lives on the off-chance that they'll feel dramatically different decades from now.

Here's the thing. We have a serious population problem, as Suzuki explains here:



If we need to curb our population growth, and there are some teenagers and young adults who want to take permanent action to avoid having children, why in the world do we prevent them? Why make them wait until they're well into their 30s? They can get sexual reassignment surgery or an abortion at 16 (not that the two are in any way related), but have to wait two more decades to get a 20-minute, low risk procedure: a tubal ligation or vasectomy. If we care about the future of our species, then we should want to reduce our population. So, we should actually offer a cash incentive to teenagers willing to be sterilized!

This article details some stories of frustration, as does this one, and this one, and this one. We have the choice to get pregnant, to terminate a pregnancy, and to temporarily avoid a pregnancy, but doctors aren't comfortable with a simple permanent solution until we're almost unable to procreate. Get comfortable, already!

Also check out this Big Think article: "Do Humans have a Moral Duty to Stop Procreating."