Does climate change divide or unite us?

It's unfortunate that climate change has become a divisive, partisan issue in our country, but it's understandable why some view it as such. Communities and local economies have been built on fossil fuel extraction and refinement, and accepting the science that climate change is real and predominantly human induced means confronting the difficult realities laid out in Bill McKibben's writings on the math of climate change: if we're serious about avoiding the worst consequences of climate change, we can burn only a small fraction of known fossil-fuel reserves. Since fossil fuels currently provide for the majority of humanity’s energy needs, we’re going to need to find alternative energy sources.

Transitioning to a carbon-neutral society necessarily means the fossil-fuel industry needs to shrink and eventually die, and this means the end of many people’s current jobs. What makes this harder is that the swifter the transition, the more likely we are to avoid more serious consequences. Sadly, some environmentalists have been guilty at times of using this reality as a pretext to demonize an entire industry of people working in fossil fuels, blanketing blame on everyone in the industry for continued emissions and hence worsening climate change. But this can be overly simplistic if taken out of context and could contribute to a divisive us-vs.-them "otherization,“ perhaps serving no other purpose than trying to find someone for the environmentally conscientious to blame in their quest for a clear conscience. What’s worse, it encourages those working in the fossil-fuel industry to retrench and employ equally simplistic responses and justifications for their work, furthering division rather than unity. In my work as a management consultant, I spent over a year working directly with fossil-fuel-based energy and utility companies. My firsthand experience in the industry exposed me to a cadre of intelligent, hard-working, and practical people who occupied positions ranging from field workers to middle and upper-middle management. To describe any of them as plotters of societal destruction would be laughable.

However, there are people in the fossil-fuel industry and in government who bear an outsized responsibility for the perpetuation of the fossil-fuel status quo, but these are typically a few people at the top - those with a large financial interest who then influence those with a political interest to maintain the status quo. In the example of #ExxonKnew, we’re talking about senior management - those responsible for the strategic direction of the company. If we’re not careful about what we read into that hashtag, we might assume every person at the company was in on a grand conspiracy - but this is almost certainly not the case. This does not diminish the need to stand up to business and government leaders to demand change, but it underscores that we can stand together rather than apart.

The reality is we all, environmentalist and oil rig operator alike, share responsibility for fossil fuel emissions on some level every time we buy or do anything or go anywhere; in fact, we depend on fossil fuels and the people who produce them for most of the material comforts we enjoy (which of us would be ready to go without electricity; clean, running water; abundant, nutritious food; transportation; or heat?). So it’s hypocritical for those of us concerned about the environment to categorically condemn a large, heterogenous group of people for producing the energy we all demand through our consumption and lifestyles, and we should be careful to avoid such sweeping, polarizing polemics. 

But the mathematical reality of climate change remains: we need to act collectively and make a series of tradeoffs to avoid catastrophe. Those tradeoffs start with trading in fossil-fuel energy for renewable energy. Consequently, that means trading in jobs producing fossil fuels for jobs producing renewable energy. And unless robots can soon provide for all the needs of those working in fossil fuels, this means fossil-fuel industry workers will need to find other employment. These are real job losses affecting real, good people, our compatriots. Any transition plan for a carbon-neutral society needs to include viable alternatives for those working in the fossil-fuel industry.

Fortunately, the transition to a carbon-neutral society also means lots of new opportunities in the renewable-energy industry. Many of the specialized skills and much of the same knowledge that have served people well in producing fossil fuels (construction, engineering, equipment maintenance, finance, project management, sales, marketing, human resources, etc.) are largely transferable to producing renewable energy. As one industry needs to ramp down, another needs to ramp up. Many of the same people whose jobs will be eliminated in producing fossil fuels can redeploy in the rapidly expanding renewable-energy sector.

It’s true that producing energy from fossil fuels and from renewable sources are not exactly the same thing. There will need to be some re-education and training to enable people to make the transition. Fortunately, estimates suggest the costs of such training will not be prohibitive. And given my experience with people working in the fossil-fuel industry, I’m confident in their ability to reapply their intelligence and skills in contexts outside fossil fuels.

It's scary to think about change, particularly on such a large scale. But it's also scary to think about the alternative: leaving a world that is unrecognizably degraded to the next generation and causing greater human suffering to our materially less fortunate brothers and sisters living now around the world. The math dictates a major change in course to avoid serious consequences, a course change that will require everyone working together. So let's team up and work together, rather than against each other, toward a cleaner, brighter future.

On minimalism

I recently shared an article on social media about how to retire in your 30s (1). I realize the minimalistic lifestyle necessary to achieve extreme savings goals might seem out of reach or undesirable for some, but I remain convinced minimalism can be a highly fulfilling way of life. I think there is something to be said for being happy with where we are and what we have, wherever that is. There's an entire social science literature on happiness/wellbeing that suggests that, beyond a middle-class income, income and happiness/wellbeing are only weakly—or maybe not at all—correlated. (2)

With this in mind, we should avoid thinking that more money and more consumption will make us happier. "If only I made what my boss makes" quickly turns into, when we do make what our boss makes, "If only I made what my new boss makes.” It’s the hedonic treadmill.

There will always be someone who earns more. Who drives a more expensive car. Who lives in a nicer house in a nicer part of town. Who takes fancier vacations to more distant places. Who eats more exotic food. So rather than constantly thinking about how we will be happy when something in the future happens or our means increase, we should be thinking about why we aren't happier now and what we can/should do about changing our attitude.

In addition to the persuasive evidence from the social science literature on this topic, my attitude has changed mainly due to 3 factors/experiences: moving to New York (and then London), my environmentalist awakening, and my (still cursory) exploration of Buddhism.

Before moving to New York, I had a certain idea of the good life. It involved owning a good-sized house full of nice stuff, driving nice cars, and having a "nice" (aka high-paying) job. When my wife and I moved into our first apartment after getting married, I could see I still had a long way to go. I was convinced we could only go up from there – 650 square feet, one bedroom, and an APARTMENT(!) full of BORROWED(!) furniture. I looked forward to getting more space and our own, nicer things.

When we moved to New York, we lived successively in two small, one-bedroom apartments that were, at 350 and 400 square feet, both significantly smaller than our first apartment in Provo. And we sold our car. When we moved to London, we lived in a 0 bedroom studio, and only took over what we could fit in suitcases. And we now no longer have our own place at all.

For us, living in small spaces was born of necessity. It was all we could afford. But by being financially compelled to live in smaller and smaller spaces, I learned that it was possible. I learned that I don’t need a house. I don’t need a yard. I don’t need stuff. And when we left the city on weekends to spend time with family and friends, for the first time I appreciated how living small can actually be a desirable way of life. I don't have to worry about caring for a large house. I don't have to maintain a car. I don't have to insure either. I don't have any yard work to do. I do have time to read and think. Life is simpler. I’m to the point now where I don’t even want stuff. I no longer view acquiring possessions as a goal, or even as something I think would make me happier. If anything, more stuff will likely complicate my life and make it less happy. You might call this the practical justification for minimalism.

I had also begun thinking more and more about where my stuff came from and where it went when I threw it away. When I consumed it. And it frightened me (3). I started wondering whether my consumption levels were fair to others around me and around the world. Whether, if everyone on Earth lived like I did, it would be sustainable. And even given my newfound preference for minimalism, and less and less rather than more and more, I discovered my life was not sustainable (4). Or fair. But rather far from either. This made me want even less. Not only do I not want stuff, I can’t justify it ethically or environmentally. You might call this the moral justification for minimalism.

Finally, I have gained an insight from my recent introduction to Buddhism that has been valuable to me personally. Although it seems rather intuitive, applying it in our own experience is more difficult. In a nutshell, it’s this: suffering is bad and reduces wellbeing; however, much of our suffering is self-induced. Ergo, we have the power to reduce significantly the amount of suffering we experience. (I should add a caveat – depression is real medical condition, and requires professional attention.) Meditation has helped me understand that I am not my feelings. I am not defined by my current emotional state. I can take a step back from my feelings and from my thoughts and appreciate that they well up in me as a response to stimuli. Those stimuli come from internal factors (hormones, what I ate, how well I slept) and external factors (the temperature/weather/time of day, the tone of voice of the person talking to me, who’s in my company), but ultimately they don’t define me. In fact, a current thought in neuroscience suggests the notion of a “self” is an illusion anyway (5). (What are we, anyway, but a compilation of sensory organs with a fairly unreliable memory and an imperfect reasoning ability?) The way I see it, always wanting more and then more stuff is a great way to live in a constant state of unfulfilled suffering. But if I don’t want the stuff in the first place, I don’t suffer by not having it. You might call this the spiritual justification for minimalism.

And so to me, whether it’s for practical, moral, or spiritual reasons, minimalism—the pursuit of less, not more—seems like the path to increased happiness and wellbeing. It will mean not needing to spend more money now, which will make it easier to save more. And it will mean not needing more later, which will mean not needing to save for as long. 

Notes

(1) http://www.vox.com/2015/5/1/8518455/extreme-early-retirement

(2) For an introduction, see Skidelsky and Skidelsky, 2012. How Much Is Enough? Money and the Good Life.

(3) E.g., see the Story of Stuff Project (www.storyofstuff.org).

(4) See Chandler, D. (2008). Leaving our mark - MIT News Office. TechTalk, 52(23), 1,4. Retrieved from http://web.mit.edu/newsoffice/2008/footprint-tt0416.html.

(5) See Harris, 2014. Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion.

Florida's climate change word crimes

The Washington Post (e.g., see here, here, and here) and the Miami Herald, among others, have recently reported on Florida Governor Rick Scott's administration's unwritten policy of forbidding the state's Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) employees from using the words "climate change" and "global warming" in any official documents, studies, or reports.

Governor Scott denies any wrongdoing, pointing instead to his administration's record on the environment. "I’m into solutions, and that’s what we’re going to continue to do."

While the Herald's report contains multiple sources all describing similar pressure and instructions from administration officials, proving the existence of a policy of censorship may be difficult as administration officials seem unwilling to discuss the specifics of the issue or to communicate about it in writing. As such, the only available evidence as of yet appears to be hearsay.

Regardless of whether Scott's administration is pressuring DEP employees to avoid usage and discussion of certain terms, as the Washington Post points out, this is hardly the first time a Republican-led administration has interfered with scientific communication. The Post goes so far as to call this a play "straight out of the Bush playbook," referring the Bush 43's administration's "edit[ing] scientific reports to minimize the link between human activity and climate change." 

In the face of overwhelming scientific evidence, University of Miami professor Harold Wanless finds the practice of censoring DEP officials unconscionable, perhaps worse: "It’s beyond ludicrous to deny using the term climate change. It’s criminal at this point."

Professor Wanless raises a point worthy of further exploration: assuming the Scott administration does have an unwritten policy censoring scientific reports, in what ways would this policy be "criminal?" Would it be a violation of DEP employees' first amendment rights? Would it also make the administration guilty of gross negligence, given the overwhelming scientific evidence linking human activities to serious global climatic changes? And finally, would it be evidence of corruption, suggesting the administration has been captured by private interests benefitting from the status quo of limited or no action to mitigate and adapt to climate change?

Governor Scott, along with other prominent Republicans, has adopted the "I'm not a scientist" mantra in an attempt to exonerate himself of responsibility for any negative effects his state and its citizens might suffer from climate change. Governor Scott should not be faulted for not being a climate scientist. A healthy society needs elected officials with a variety of backgrounds. But not trusting input from experts, and even going so far as to attempt to silence them, is indeed inexcusable. It might even be criminal.

The Soon Affair: research funding, academic freedom, and peer review

Wei-Hock (Willie) Soon, a researcher at Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics, has long been a vocal critic of the consensus of the scientific community that climate change is largely a manmade phenomenon. It should come as no surprise then that, when news broke late last week that Soon's ties to the fossil fuel industry were stronger than previously known, environmentalists cried foul.

Criticism of Soon is warranted, but it's important to be clear on why. Soon's wrongdoing was not in accepting money from the fossil-fuel industry to conduct research. There is nothing inherently wrong with accepting funding for scientific research from private interests. Society has benefitted greatly from research funded or directly conducted by the private sector. Cars, iPhones, TVs, biomedical devices, prescription drugs – none of these would exist without private sector-funded research.

In fact, at least some of Soon's colleagues—even those who might refute his conclusions—have been careful to defend his right to academic freedom, to ask and seek answers to the questions he chooses. According to The New York Times, Dr. Charles Alcock, director of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center (with which Soon is affiliated), "acknowledged on Friday that Dr. Soon had violated the disclosure standards of some journals," but "said that, aside from the disclosure issue, he thought it was important to protect Dr. Soon’s academic freedom, even if most of his colleagues disagreed with his findings."

But why would Soon's "boss" (if he could be called that) come to his defense, even when the conclusions of his research stand at odds with the majority of those of the scientific community? Christine Pulliam, a spokeswoman for the Center for Astrophysics, explained to the Guardian:

“Academic freedom is critically important. The Smithsonian stands by the process by which the research results of all of its scholars are peer reviewed and vetted by other scientists. This is the way that the scientific process works. The funding entities, regardless of their affiliation, have no influence on the research.”

So it would seem that it is neither the source of Soon's funding nor the conclusions of his research that were cause for concern. And while it's true that who funds research often determines which questions get asked and answered, the scientific method should produce verifiable, repeatable results regardless of the topic of exploration. So in theory, who funds the research shouldn't affect the research's outcome, and the peer-review process should catch any problems with the science before the research goes to press. "What's the big deal, then?" one might ask. "Shouldn't the science speak for itself?" According to The New York Times, Soon put it this way:

“I write proposals; I let them decide whether to fund me or not,” he said at an event in Madison, Wis., in 2013. “If they choose to fund me, I’m happy to receive it.” A moment later, he added, “I would never be motivated by money for anything.”

Soon also told the Boston Globe in 2013:

“No amount of money can influence what I have to say and write, especially on my scientific quest to understand how climate works, all by itself.’’

One may doubt Soon's integrity, but the implication of his statements is clear: the science should speak for itself. And this is the point Alcock and Pulliam made, as cited above. This is also why they were clear to defend his academic freedom: essentially, if there is a problem with the science, criticize the science. (Soon's colleagues in academia, for their part, have roundly criticized his work on its merits.)

So why does it matter that Soon didn't disclose his funding sources?

Soon's misdeed was in failing to disclose his financial ties to the fossil-fuel industry when the journals where he published required it. Academic journals often rely on researchers to self-report funding sources and any potential conflicts of interest. By failing to do so, Soon undermined the credibility of his own findings. But he also violated the trust of the public.

In addition, disclosing research funding helps identify where additional, disinterested, third-party research might be warranted to verify the findings of the original research. For the general public, who are likely unable to test the validity of the findings of scientific research, following the money provides a heuristic for reliability. The findings of research funded by an institution with a potential conflict of interest should be held in lower regard than the results of a similar study conducted by a disinterested third party.

For example, the public should rightly be skeptical of the findings of studies conducted by a private party with a significant financial interest in the results of the research coming out one way as opposed to another. The safety of a product or practice is a great example. Is fracking safe? The best group to ask isn't the American Petroleum Institute. Is a new drug safe? It's probably better to ask someone besides the company developing it.

From the public's perspective, Soon deserves criticism not for accepting money from the fossil-fuel industry nor for coming to conclusions different from his colleagues'; rather, Soon deserves criticism for failing to disclose the extent of his ties to the fossil-fuel industry when there is an obvious conflict of interest between fossil-fuel industry profits and the conclusion of the scientific community—based on an overwhelming preponderance of empirical observation—that the burning of fossil fuels is a significant factor driving climate change.