written 4 February 2024
published 11 February 2024
I began writing this weekly column 7 years ago, early in the Trump administration, before the regular parade of big California fires and PSPS concerns. My focus has been the illusion of separation, and how that illusion gives rise to the accelerating climate crisis.
The intervening time has brought things into clearer focus. The polarization of everything is separation in action, and the result is corrosive to our society. None of the "isms" are new to these times, some in effect for thousands of years, but they have been given permission to surface, no longer hidden, demanding to be dealt with. What feels like a disaster is an opportunity to look within, acknowledging our own pain and trauma, which begins the healing. Rather than following revenge addicted leaders, we can choose to become the best of what we can be.
There are fundamental realities that affect everyone, transcending what we believe. All life is connected and we are all kin. The connection extends beyond the limitation of just human interaction. We are guests here, not owners, whether we like it or not. Suffering comes from being at war with a fact. Chronic suffering debilitates the system, leading to exhaustion, collapse, and death. This outcome is true for individuals, civilizations, and ecosystems.
The climate crisis is the physical manifestation of denying that universal connection, being at war with nature. All life on Earth is adversely affected by the rapidly changing climate, and human civilization is responsible. For decades, the changes have been going on at the margins, mostly out of sight, while the population boomed, civilization expanded, and technological marvels became mundane.
But the impact of weather extremes is increasing, making news everywhere. Last summer, Greece endured 21 inches of rain in 24 hours. Acapulco expected a tropical storm, but it more than doubled in strength in just one day, arriving as a category 5 hurricane, which damaged the entire city.
Drought and wildfires alternate with inundation and floods. Twelve of the twenty largest California fires have happened since 2017. The ocean is becoming more acidic and getting warmer, fueling stronger storms, while the rising sea is destroying and flooding more populated areas. The atmosphere is at record heat, affecting food production and transportation, and beginning to make outdoor summer labor lethal. Species extinction accelerates, including many critical to human food production. In some areas, fire insurance is becoming unaffordable, if attainable at all, and real estate lending in areas of repeat disasters is now more questionable.
Some people give up, thinking it is already too late. But we are still alive, and know what needs to happen: stop making the problem worse (economic decarbonization), and repairing what we have damaged (atmospheric carbon capture). Without a doubt, this will be expensive and disruptive to the status quo, in part because we have delayed effective action for decades. But as the fiscal cost of disaster management and recovery grows, avoiding climate response risks economic collapse and possible human extinction. Realizing we are losing our habitable home, we can become mobilized to action.
In the last seven years, awareness of the climate crisis has grown. The Redwood Valley and Tubbs fire storms got attention, showing it is no longer a "future" problem, but already here. Everyone in the community was impacted, or had family or friends who were. Storm damage, accentuated by sea level rise, has generated commissions all around the State working out how to address the issue: armoring the coast, planning managed retreat, or something else.
A large majority of voters support addressing climate change, despite the best efforts of the fossil fuel industry. Only the most partisan still deny the reality of the crisis. I expect the next election will confirm this.
But we are still left with the question, "what can I do?" Start with a deep breath, and think about what it is you most love in your life, and would least like to lose. For me, I want to have a habitable planet, with access to electricity, the most versatile of technological energy. I vote in every election, as if it might be the last, supporting people whose policies align with mine. I structure my social activism toward my chosen goals, finding groups working in that direction, or starting the conversation myself. This action helps me feel empowered in the middle of this turbulent change. You can too.
