I recently ran across an Australian blog called Typing is Not Activism: its title is a very pithy reminder of a problem that has been troubling me lately. Likewise, recycling is not activism, using canvas shopping bags is not activism, joining Ecology North is not activism. All of these are good actions, but, by themselves, they’re just tiny gestures in the right direction.
Everywhere I go in my activist life, I talk to people who truly understand the problem of climate change (and other environmental and social problems). Yes, there are huge swaths of people who “don’t get it” and would rather focus on the marital hijinks of Britney Spears. Yes, there are active climate change deniers (though I’ve personally met very few of them). I’m talking instead about the people who come to the meetings, donate to environmental causes, display the bumper stickers, and so on.
Somehow, many such people understand and acknowledge the problem on one hand, while failing to make the connection to their own behaviour on the other. There are many exceptions, of course. Nor am I perfect either. Still, I don’t think I’m being unreasonable to suggest that the majority of environmental activists/supporters are somewhat misguided (I want to say hypocritical, but that implies intention – I don’t think this failure is entirely intentional).
Call it “Al Gore Syndrome.” Part of me wants to thunder curses down upon “environmentalists” who drive cars, eat meat, live in enormous houses, or fly in airplanes, for example. Don’t people understand that the solutions to climate change are in their own hands? It might be inconvenient to change, but it is possible.
I’ve heard a lot of excuses about automobiles — as a rule, I try not to make people feel guilty about driving (after all, I’ve owned cars myself), but let me say once and for all: if you care about climate change, you need to make a plan to stop using your private vehicle. In extreme cases, it might be a five year plan — maybe it involves moving house or changing jobs. So be it.
Meat-eating is the last thing that a lot of people will change — for some of us, meat-eating is part of our identities. In the north, I run across many, many people who claim that their meat-eating is sustainable because the food is harvested from the land. If your daily diet of meat truly does come entirely from local, wild sources (or organic, sustainable farms), then you’re in the clear. If not, then you have to live with the knowledge that, outside of driving, your optional meat-eating has the largest environmental impact of any consumer activity. Nobody says you have to go “cold turkey” (pun intended), but you can make a plan to reduce your meat consumption and stick with it. Yes, I know you say you hardly ever eat red meat — you’re practically a vegetarian already really — but be honest: are you really keeping track?
Being permitted to live in a big, energy-wasting house with a fossil fuel heating system is a Canadian birthright. We can’t freeze in the dark, can we? Certainly not. And yet, if you live with a small family in a monster home with wasteful systems, you need to make some changes, perhaps even move. Household systems are in the top five largest consumers of fossil fuels and creaters of pollution in North America. The average new home in Canada is 1800 square feet and the average family size is about three people. That means that if you live in a single family home of average efficiency (or worse) that allots more than roughly 600 square feet per person, you’re definitely part of the problem — even without acknowledging that the average house is already extremely wasteful and unsustainable. On the plus side, you can switch to biomass or other alternative heating systems, use electricity and water efficiently, and perhaps disregard floor space to some extent — even so, you can’t ignore this question if you truly want to solve the problems of climate change and environmental degradation.
Air travel is another consumer activity that we give ourselves a free pass on. Sure, I’ll make sacrifices, but not my vacation! I’m an eco-tourist, travelling in far off untouristed places anyway. I need that trip to Edmonton every three months to stay sane. Wrong. You want it — you don’t need it. Buses and trains can be inconvenient, but they are the only sustainable forms of mass transportation in the world; when they are available options, we must use them — when they aren’t, we must carefully evaluate our decision to travel. Travelling less or by slower, uncomfortable methods is a hard pill, but, if you really want to stop climate change, you can’t keep making exceptions for yourself.
I know I’m not perfect either. I know some of these things are difficult. I don’t expect everyone to change overnight. Even so, if you want your environmentalism to be more than a style or a social activity, you have to ask yourself: Am I all talk? Do I really want to live up to my values? Can I afford to do otherwise?