Tag Archives: environment

Blogging, D.B. Jackson, David B. Coe, Writing

Monday Musings: Humans Behaving Stupidly

In real life, it’s not so easy. When actors in life’s drama do dumb things, we can’t revise the narrative to avoid disaster.

We’ve all experienced the frustration. We’re reading a book or watching a movie or television show, and one (or several) of the lead characters in the story does something that’s just plain stupid. Blind to the peril before them, unwilling to heed the advice and warnings of others who know better, they rush headlong into danger, placing themselves and their loved ones at risk. We shout at the screen or curse the pages, knowing that terrible consequences will result from this patent idiocy, but on the characters go, compounding foolishness with carelessness and neglect and hubris until calamity befalls them. Deserved calamity. Chickens coming home to roost. Just desserts.

As a writer, I have to guard against doing this. Because the fact is, often bad choices by our lead characters can feed our narratives. “If only Character X would do this, then Characters Y and Z could do THIS, and wouldn’t THAT be cool!” Good editors — and I’ve worked with several — point out these moments and tell me to make certain Character X has a REALLY good reason for doing that not-so-smart thing. Because if they don’t have a good reason, this action will tick off my readers, putting them through that frustration I mentioned above.

And as an editor, I often have to flag moments in the manuscripts of my writers (or my clients) where they have led their protagonists down a foolish path, making them do things that serve the plot but not their own self-interest. “Make sure this is a reasonable, rational course of action,” I’ll say, “because otherwise this moment feels contrived, like something no clear-thinking person would do.”

Usually, in a fiction manuscript, the fix is fairly easy. We can get the characters to where the narrative needs them to be in a way that doesn’t feel so foolhardy and reckless. We can rewrite until it makes sense AND makes for a good story.

In real life, it’s not so easy. When actors in life’s drama do dumb things, we can’t revise the narrative to avoid disaster.

This past week saw climatologists record the four hottest days in human history. Monday’s record global temperature was measured by the U.S. National Centers for Environmental Prediction at 17.01 degrees Celsius (62.62 degrees Fahrenheit), exceeding the previous record, which was set back in August 2016, by about .09 degrees Celsius, or .16 degrees Fahrenheit. That might not seem like a lot, but for global averages that usually vary in tiny increments, this was a significant jump.

Monday’s record lasted one day. Tuesday was hotter. Wednesday was hotter still, and Thursday was even hotter than Wednesday. Thursday’s global average reached 17.23 degrees Celsius, exceeding Monday’s record by nearly .22 degrees Celsius, or more than twice the margin by which Monday’s global average exceeded the old record.

The records don’t end there. June 2023 was the hottest June on record. 2023 is shaping up to be the hottest year in recorded history. The last eight years have been the hottest eight years ever documented. And of the twenty hottest years measured by climate scientists since the mid-19th century, all of them — ALL OF THEM — have occurred in the first twenty-three years of this millennium. Ocean temperatures are at record highs, sea ice volume is at a record low.

Scientists across the globe used words like “terrifying” and “unprecedented” to describe last week’s temperatures, and several pointed out that while measurements of global temperature only go back to the beginning of the Industrial Age, evidence from other climatological data suggests that global temperatures could now be at levels not seen in more than 100,000 years.

And yet, none of the scientists interviewed by the major news outlets seemed overly surprised by what happened last week. Frustrated, yes. Surprised, not so much. And who can blame them?

When I was a senior in college, I took an environmental science class that was geared toward non-science majors: “Major Issues in Environmental Policy,” or something of the sort. During the course of the semester, our professor returned again and again to the threat to the planet posed by global warming and the unchecked increase in greenhouse gases being pumped into our atmosphere by automobiles, power generation, manufacturing activity, industrial agriculture, and other human endeavors. He warned of rising global temperatures and the resulting consequences, which included more extreme weather, greater risk of flooding, drought, and wildfires, shrinking glaciers, rising sea levels, etc., etc., etc.

Everything he predicted in that class has come to pass. Everything.

I took the class in 1985.

To be clear, last week’s record-setting heat was caused by a combination of factors, some related to human actions, others naturally-occurring. The spike in global temperatures resulted from a confluence of decades of climate change and the warming effect of this year’s powerful El Niño, a cyclical climate fluctuation caused by warmer than average currents in the Pacific. But researchers believe El Niño and its sister phenomenon, the climate cooling La Niña, have been occurring for thousands of years. Human-induced climate change in the X factor here.

And we, I am sorry to say, are the infuriatingly myopic characters I mentioned at the outset of this piece. We have been warned of the danger facing us time and again by people who know better — by climate experts, by NASA, by NOAA, by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, by the World Meteorological Organization, by a scientific community desperate to head off looming cataclysm. For half a century or more we have been told that this day would come, that our planet is hurtling toward a crisis from which it may not be able to recover.

We have delayed and denied. We have made excuses and engaged in the worst sort of incrementalism. We have watched as “once in a century” storms become routine, as horrifying wildfires blacken our landscapes and turn our skies apocalyptic shades of orange and brown. We have ignored all the warnings, and have thus saddled our children and generations to come with the responsibility of cleaning up our mess.

The events of last week merely confirmed what climate scientists have known for some time now. Climate disaster isn’t our future, it’s our present. It is here. At this point, knowing all we do, there is no good reason to ignore the science. Our own self-interest dictates that we must take action now. Because unless we, the characters in this tragedy, act immediately to change the course of humanity, to convince our political leaders that we care about our land, our water, ourselves, our children, our grandchildren, we will destroy the earth. An act of foolishness, of hubris, of neglect and carelessness and ultimate stupidity.

And who will be left to curse the pages of human history?

Blogging, D.B. Jackson, David B. Coe

Monday Musings: Our Best Former President

Carter-Mondale 1976 Campaign pamphletIn 1976, I was thirteen years old. I couldn’t vote, obviously, but I could work for candidates I liked, passing out pamphlets and such. That’s what I did in my little (at the time) moderately conservative (at the time) hometown in suburban New York. I stood on street corners in the commercial district of our village and I handed out leaflets for the Carter-Mondale ticket. “Leaders For A Change,” they read. A message that resonated after Watergate and the hapless administration of Gerald Ford.

Four years later, as a more rebellious seventeen-year-old, I made phone calls for the insurgent primary campaign of Teddy Kennedy. My father didn’t approve.

I would be the first to admit that Jimmy Carter’s presidency was not a successful one. I won’t go so far as to say he was a bad President, because he did some very good things while in office, including trying to move the country toward energy independence and setting aside huge swaths of wilderness for preservation. He brokered the Camp David Accords with Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin, ending the state of war between Egypt and Israel. And he created the Department of Education, which, despite right-wing complaints, has done much in the four decades since to improve education in the United States.

But Carter could be prickly with the press and with other politicians. He refused to play the sort of games Washington likes to impose on new Presidents. Unlike Ronald Reagan, who defeated him, and Bill Clinton, who would win back the White House for the Democrats in 1992, Carter could be pedantic, taciturn, moralizing. Rather than being a happy warrior, he was more a grim crusader, deeply convinced of his own righteousness and uncompromising in his principles. In a way, he was too honorable a person, too unwilling to mince words, and also too nuanced in his thinking to be an effective leader. He came to office in the midst of an economic crisis that he was unable to ease, and he could do nothing to prevent the seizure of the American embassy in Teheran, Iran. The subsequent hostage crisis really wasn’t his fault, but it made him appear weak and ineffectual. It’s not surprising that he lost the 1980 election in a landslide, nor is it surprising that he’s remembered as a failed President.

Carter only began to flourish as a national leader after he left office. First, it should be noted that he never disputed his electoral loss or attempted to subvert in any way the transition to the Reagan Administration. A few years ago, that wouldn’t have been noteworthy. Now . . . .

More to the point, freed by his defeat from the constraints of electoral politics, he was able to focus on what he did best: advocating for social justice and casting himself as the moral conscience of an increasingly divided nation. The Carter Center, a non-profit founded after he left office, has worked across the globe to alleviate poverty, advance health care in under-developed economies, and advocate for human rights. Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, have been steadfast supporters of Habitat for Humanity, working tirelessly to build homes for those in need. And he has helped several of his successors in the White House by serving as a roving diplomat.

While many (but not all) of our ex-Presidents have spent their post-Presidential years playing golf or painting or burnishing their legacies or even trying to redeem themselves and repair their reputations after repeated failures, ignominious electoral defeats, and illegal and immoral assaults on our republic, Carter has devoted himself to the humane causes in which he believes. He is a crusader for social and economic equity. He speaks his mind, calling out those in power who fail to live up to their oaths of office. He carries himself with dignity, humility, and grace. And he has set an example every day, showing us all what it means to be a public servant.

I believe a case can be made that regardless of who the best President in our nation’s history might be, Jimmy Carter has been the best former-President we’ve ever had.

Last week, the Carter Center announced that Carter, now 98 years old, was going into Hospice Care rather than continue to pursue medical treatments for his various ailments. He has lived a full and incredible life, realizing lofty ambitions, traveling around the world, and touching literally millions and millions of lives. In the time he has left, I have no doubt he will continue to speak on behalf of those whose voices don’t reach the ears of the wealthy and powerful.

And when he is gone, when we no longer hear his gentle Georgia drawl speaking truth to the better angels in each of us, he will leave a void in America’s ongoing political and social dialogue.

Wishing you all peace, the comfort of loved ones, and a good week ahead.

Blogging, D.B. Jackson, David B. Coe, Not at all Writing Related

Monday Musings: Fireworks and My Environmental Hypocrisy Explained

The first fireworks display I remember with any clarity came on a Fourth of July when I was three or four years old. My family had gone to the park in town where the fireworks displays took place each year, and we were sitting with our neighbors, including the high school student who babysat me when my older siblings were unavailable.

I was terrified of the big booms, and I cowered on my babysitter’s lap, my eyes closed, wishing this nightmare would end. Until she convinced me to look at just one.

It was magical! The colors! The patterns! Even the resonance of the explosions in my chest. From that day forward, I was hooked, and I have been ever since.

Anyone who knows me, knows that my politics track well to the left of center. On no issues am I more committed or more radical in my advocacy than those pertaining to the environment. And so, as environmental groups and activists, including some in our little town here on the Cumberland Plateau, turn more attention to the negative environmental impacts of fireworks, I find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to choose between fighting against something I love, or making myself look like a hypocrite.

This one time, I’m embracing hypocrisy. Hear me out.

First, let me acknowledge the obvious. Fireworks ARE bad for the environment. They release greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. They pollute the air with particulate matter, and, because those lovely colors are produced by the burning of different elements, including heavy metals and other toxins, they pollute our water and soil as well. They are incredibly loud, and so can be deeply disruptive to local wildlife, not to mention being harmful to our pets and to livestock. And, with drought impacting more and more of the U.S. every year, we can’t ignore the significant fire danger posed by fireworks.

In short, they are pretty much a nightmare, and at some point, as we continue to fight the effects of global climate change, we will probably need to get rid of them altogether. But we are nowhere near that point yet, and, in fact, trying to get rid of fireworks now could actually set back the cause of environmental protection.

Again, hear me out.

All the fireworks used in the United States in a single year, including displays put on by municipalities as well as those set off by private citizens, emit about the same amount of greenhouse gas as 12,000 gas powered automobiles do on average, over the course of a year. Which sounds like a lot, until we place the number in context. There are 276 million automobiles in the U.S., which means that the entire universe of fireworks in this country emits less than 0.00005% of what cars produce. Put another way, if we could come up with technology that reduces car emissions by one percent — just one percent! — the reduction in our nation’s carbon output would be 20,000 times more than what a total ban on fireworks could accomplish.

What about the particulate matter in our air, the heavy metals and toxins in our water and soil, the sheer solid waste of all those fireworks casings made out of plastic and cardboard and paper? Yes, the harm from fireworks is real. But as with greenhouse gases, the contribution of fireworks to all of these problems is minuscule when considered against the scale of industrial pollution in the U.S., or automobile pollution, or household waste production, or any number of other causes of environmental degradation.

Aiming our ecological ire at fireworks is foolishness. It is virtue-signaling en masse. It is like ordering a double-patty bacon cheeseburger, a super-sized container of curly fries, and a huge slice of New York cheesecake, and then also asking for a Diet Coke.

Worse, it is politically stupid. Progressives could come up with a comprehensive, scientifically sound, guaranteed-to-address-the-problem legislative package to combat climate change, and if it included a ban on fireworks that would be the only thing Fox News and the Republicans would focus on. “Liberals want to ban your fireworks!” “Liberals have declared war on the Fourth of July!” “Liberals hate America for winning our independence!”

The fact is, progressives have, again and again, come up with comprehensive, scientifically sound, guaranteed-to-address-the-problem legislative packages to combat climate change, and always the right-wing climate deniers have latched onto the one element of the plan that is a) least significant, and b) easiest to parody and misrepresent. “Liberals want to keep you from eating hamburgers!” “Liberals want to replace your pickup with a bicycle!” “Liberals want to use climate legislation to turn America into a socialist hell-scape!” “Liberals want to make you compost your puppies!”

Okay, I made up that last one, but you get the idea. Banning fireworks gets us next to nothing. The impact would be minimal at best. And the cost to the larger cause of saving our planet could be far greater than this one step is worth.

So what should we do about fireworks?

Already governments across the globe, national, territorial, and municipal, are beginning to use drone and laser technologies to make celebrations less fireworks-dependent. We should do more of this. Displays that blend these newer approaches with traditional fireworks, have less impact on our land, water, and air. Moreover, many U.S. states already ban the purchase and use of fireworks by private citizens. More states should do the same. This would lessen fire danger while also lowering the amounts of smoke and pollutants we put into the environment. We would still get to see our fireworks displays and celebrate July 4th as we always have. We would just have to rely on public fireworks displays for our yearly fix of “rockets’ red glare” and “bombs bursting in air.”

That, it seems to me, is a reasonable sacrifice for the greater good.

Have a great week.

Blogging, D.B. Jackson, David B. Coe, Not at all Writing Related

Monday Musings: A Planet In Its Death Throes

Pray for the forest, pray to the tree,
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea.
Pray for yourself and for God’s sake,
Say one for me,
Poor wretched unbeliever.

— James Taylor, “Gaia,” from Hourglass

This is what it looks like when a planet dies

milkovi SF Bay Bridge
The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge under skies turned orange by wildfire smoke. Photo credit: Milkovi, Unsplash

Cataclysmic fires along the American West Coast and the Australian East Coast, in the Amazon and on the Steppe. Once-in-a-millenium events occurring annually. Orange skies over California and the Pacific Northwest.

Storms of unprecedented destructive power striking with unnerving frequency, rendering the term “storm of the century” essentially meaningless.

Deepening cycles of drought and flood. Cities across the world literally being inundated by oceans and seas. Glaciers vanishing faster than even the most aggressive projections told us they would. Coral reefs dying. Species going extinct.

My older brothers turned me on to birdwatching when I was seven years old — a gift that has enriched my life for half a century. And over those same fifty years, North America’s population of birds has declined by nearly 30%. Habitat loss, pesticide use, careless architecture, and, yes, climate change — all have played a role. The result? Three billion fewer birds.

In the spring of 1985, my senior year in college, I took an ecology course for non-majors. It offered a survey of critical environmental issues facing the world, and discussed them in terms history and literature majors could understand. At the time, a scientific consensus had long-since formed around what was called at the time “the Greenhouse Effect,” what we later called global warming, and now global climate change. That was thirty-five years ago.

In 1896, a Swedish scientist named Svante Arrhenius theorized that the unfettered burning of fossil fuels, and the resulting release of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, would lead to a warming of the planet. Four years later, in 1901, his colleague, Nils Gustaf Ekholm, coined the term “Greenhouse Effect” to describe the phenomenon. In fairness, Ekholm thought it might be a good thing, as it would stave off future ice ages. But the concept is not a new one.

For decades, global temperatures have been rising to record setting levels, only to be topped the following year. Global temperature records were first kept in a systematic way around 1850. Of the 170 or so years for which figures exist, nineteen of the twenty hottest have occurred since 2000. 2020 is on pace to join the top five.

I am willing to engage on most political and social issues. I enjoy a good discussion, a vigorous debate. There are, though, a few topics on which I will no longer engage. First among them is bigotry of any sort — racism, sexism, homophobia, trans bias, religious bias, etc. Climate denial is a close second. (And this year, Covid denial has joined the list.)

This is no longer theory. It hasn’t been for a long, long time. Climate change is real. Our planet is dying. If we do nothing — if we as a global community continue on the path we’re on now, we will bequeath to our children and grandchildren a burnt husk of what was once earth. Future generations will live in a world that staggers from ecological crisis to ecological crisis, from catastrophe to catastrophe, from flood to drought to famine to pandemic and back again.

We have had ample opportunity to address the issue, and we have squandered one after another. We have absented ourselves from vital global treaties and doubled down on the sort of short-sighted consumerism that got us into this mess in the first place. Like James Taylor in the song quoted at the beginning of this post, I have no faith in our ability to save ourselves. We are a society that cannot bring ourselves to wear cloth masks for the common good. How are we supposed to make the economic transitions necessary to change economic course?

And the tragic thing is, addressing climate change could be a tremendous boon to our standing in the world, to our economic fortunes, to our commitment to education. This is the challenge of our time. It demands bold thinking, new industries, innovation and invention. Implementing the necessary changes would generate hundreds of thousands of jobs, replacing and more the jobs lost in the coal and oil industries. Fitting ecological imperatives to our national love affair with cars and trucks could revitalize the American automotive industry. Does anyone really believe that the internal combustion engine, invented more than a century ago, is the be-all and end-all of technological ingenuity? Of course not.

But we have to have the will to change, the courage to say “Saving our planet for our children is worth whatever sacrifices we might have to make.” And, from what I can see, we don’t.

I wish I could end on a more hopeful note.

November’s election is about more than ending corruption, about more than beating back hate and prejudice, about more than the Supreme Court, about more than taxes and health care and social justice. It is about saving our planet. It is about keeping ourselves from a slow and painful march toward extinction.

Please vote.