The Third Alternative

Surely, by now, everyone has heard of climate change. Everyone has some kind of ‘climate story’ — ways we understand and reconcile our lives to the predicament in which we find ourselves. So as part of that love for people (which is surely the first requirement of any activist), let’s hear people’s stories. And yes, I include the climate sceptics and the doom-mongers in this too. In fact, especially the deniers — their stories need to be heard above anyone. It’s a climate story of my own I’d like to describe in this essay. It’s not one I usually tell, because it seems so far out. But I’m going to share it and you can judge for yourself. What is climate change about really? Is it an economic question, is it an aesthetic question, is it even a theological question? Yes, it’s all of these! It just depends on how you frame the question. One way of thinking about climate change it to ask ourselves how far back in time we would be willing to live in order to have a sustainable planet. The Earth slipped into ‘overshoot’ around 1967, for instance, so this is a potential year to go back to. Or how about 1955, or 1885? But of course it would not be just a case of getting rid of all the stuff that’s been invented since whichever date we choose. There’s also the matter of the greatly increased population. The fact is, we probably could not have all the extra people if we did not also have the technology. To some extent we rely on it, and our reliance grows year by year. So maybe if there was more technology rather than less, then we could sort things. This I tend to call the techno-fix solution. The techno-fix may be such that all of our three main issues — climate change, loss of bio-diversity and pollution — are solved and the world can henceforth continue to live within its means but able to provide economic growth and improving material prosperity for everyone, within the natural limits of the Earth. Or it may be that those issues are ‘solved’ by means of adaptation, that is, we accept a certain level of climate change, we compensate for loss of bio-diversity (this includes having enough oxygen in the atmosphere, and not having crops pollinated by insects) all by artificial means, and we try to clean up pollution where we absolutely must. There’s probably some recycling and re-use of materials to keep supplies going, but that’s it. The great thing about this is that we don’t have to ask people to change – we don’t need to change human nature, we don’t even have to change human culture – technology does all the work. But the more we ask of our technology the more our reliance on it grows. And the danger is that the techno-fix will just not keep up. Then the collapse that might arrive will be all the more catastrophic. So then, let’s think about an alternative scenario — voluntary simplicity. Books on simplicity often don’t want to talk about simplicity in terms of a lack of material things – they are often more accurately described as better time-management and a better work-life balance. But I mean simplicity in its more basic and obvious sense – simple homes, less stuff, less travel, less energy consumption, local foods, local culture. Sometimes I call this ‘stay at home and tend your garden’. It might be that we still have a tiny window of opportunity – that if we all lived at a simple enough level then we could stop climate change and have a stable, sustainable world. The only problem with this is the issue of changing human nature! So whilst, in one sense, the voluntary simplicity model is easily in reach, the difficulty of asking people to change is so great that I’d put our chances of success as extremely slim indeed! I’m forced into the inevitable conclusion that we will follow the techno-fix route, as it is, essentially, the path we’re currently on. This is more or less business-as-usual, fixing the problems as they come along by way of more technology. Well now, let me tell you about my third scenario – my way out climate story. This third alternative is aesthetic and theological – the most obscure of our alternatives! It starts with a rather difficult subject – the idea of the sacred. In fact, an easier place to start is from the opposite of this – the idea of the profane. Is it an accident that some of our worst profanities relate to sexual organs? Indeed, that part of a woman from which we all emerged is held to be the most profane of all. So our own bodies – our most direct connection to nature – are the things that we find least sacred! Does this not strike you, dear reader, as extremely bizarre? Why is it that life, the sources of life and the act of making life should be considered somehow vile? Things are carried forward into violent behaviour towards nature herself. Perhaps the reason we resort to this odd behaviour is because nature’s gifts are fickle and we cannot control her. It’s difficult to know for sure. Why are murder, torture and rape not the profanities? I get the feeling that it’s not always been this way. I get the feeling that there have been races of folk who have honoured the body rather than despised her. Who have seen nature as sacred. Sacred is a tricky word though, as I’ve said. What makes one thing sacred and another thing profane, or neutral? If it is God’s world, then shouldn’t everything be sacred? It’s only by some very twisted theology that it could be otherwise. But if there is no God then isn’t it just up to us to decide on what is sacred? And so, what if nature were to be considered sacred? Would we not then treat her with the respect she deserves? Would we not then leave space for her on the Earth, so that she can flourish once more? Would we not then honour and celebrate her? There’s just a chance that a restored nature could rescue the planet, if we gave her the space she needs. There’s just a chance that we might find our chief enchantment in nature rather than in the artifice of humans. We need to get a lesson from the Jains, who will take no means of transportation but only ever walk bare-footed, and sweeping the ground in front of them, for fear of treading on an insect. But, I know, I know. It’s an even bigger ask than simplicity – staying at home and tending our gardens. It’s an even bigger change in human culture. But is there not something to be said for breathing clean air and hearing bird song, as compared to breathing car exhaust fumes and hearing the constant drone of aircraft and road traffic? I leave it with you.