The Climate in Emergency

A weekly blog on science, news, and ideas related to climate change


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Deck the Halls

Do you have your holiday shopping done yet? Your gift list completed, your menu planned?

On the off-chance that you don’t (it’s ok, I’m not done yet, either), I thought I’d say a few words about keeping your holiday carbon footprint down. There are a lot of sites out there recommending “green” tips, but many of them don’t have much in the way of context–sure, this or that practice might be “green,” but which is the most important? Where is most of the holiday footprint located? What changes can give us the biggest bang for our buck?

I was able to find one article that provides that context–it is about ten years old and British, so there might be some discrepancies with the situation these days in the United States. But many of my readers are not in America anyway, and would have to make some adjustments even if my source material was from the same country as I am.

The reason I’m focusing on Christmas is not just an attempt to be seasonal on my part–for one thing, not all my readers celebrate Christmas. But this one holiday inspires more consumption–and thus more carbon emissions–than almost any other time of year. According to The Carbon Cost of Christmas, 5.5% of Britain’s total annual carbon footprint occurs over Christmas alone. Note that 5.5% of 365 is just over 20. Since the author of that article was counting “Christmas season” as only three days long (Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day), that means cramming 20 days’ worth of emissions into the equivalent of a long weekend.

By the same token, a significant reduction in your Christmas carbon footprint could have a significant influence on your whole year.

Where Does Christmas Carbon Come From?

Cost of Christmas lists four categories of Christmas activities with their average per person carbon costs in kilograms as follows:

Christmas shopping = 310

Decorative lights = 218

Car travel = 96

Holiday food = 26

Since the article doesn’t list exactly how these numbers were derived, it is difficult to be sure how accurate they remain ten years later. I suspect the footprint of lighting may have shrunk somewhat with the popularity of LEDs–though it’s also possible that people have simply added more lights and still use just as much electricity as ever. Also, those inflatable lawn ornaments, the ones that must be constantly hooked to a running blower, have gotten popular in the last five years (at least in the US) and must be demanding a significant amount of electricity.

Still, I suspect that even if the numbers have changed, the order of these categories has not–simply because shopping and lighting each remain extravagant at this time of year (for those who can afford extravagance). That means these are the areas where reduction can give us a very satisfying bang. Not that we’re going to ignore the other two areas.

Cost of Christmas estimates that a reduction of per-person holiday-related emissions of 372 kg of carbon dioxide is not unreasonable. Since their original carbon cost estimate was 650 kg, that’s almost cutting emissions in half–which still leaves the three days of Christmas responsible for over a week’s worth of emissions, but still, that’s a huge improvement.

(Note that these kilograms of carbon dioxide probably do not all come loose during the three days of Christmas–holiday travel, for example, must occur before and after the holiday, not during–but these are emissions made for the sake of those three days.)

Lowering the Cost of Christmas

What strikes me reading the Cost of Christmas is that much of the cost is attributable to things that don’t really add to anybody’s enjoyment: Brits evidently spend a total of £4 billion every year on unwanted Christmas gifts, an average of 92 per person. More to the point, those gifts are responsible for 4.8 million tonnes (that’s almost 5.3 million American tons) of carbon dioxide, or 80 kg per person.

And those lights? A lot of people keep them on all night long, sundown to sun-up. During the majority of those hours, most people are either asleep or inside their dwellings and not looking at anyone’s outside lighting. That suggests that something on the order of two hundred kilograms of carbon emissions per person per season are emitted in order to make light that nobody looks at.

More emissions (the number is significant but much smaller) involves food that nobody eats.

Are there places we can cut our holiday extravagance that actually might involve some personal sacrifice? Yeah, sure, and since said sacrifice is not very painful (and much less painful than climate change), we should have at it. But the low-hanging fruit here is definitely the emissions that bring nobody any use or pleasure at all.

Practical Tips

As you go through your holiday preparations this year, be sure to take certain steps–or, if you’ve already made those purchases, take notes for next year. Some of these steps are fairly obvious–if your electric bill normally spikes in December, adjust your light display so that it doesn’t. My husband and I have a modest display, but we also get all our electricity from landfill gas generation, meaning that our electricity is actually carbon negative. See if something similar is available in your area.

You can get a lot of useful tips from lots of great websites. One advantage of holiday “greening” is that it’s a fairly simple way to introduce possible lifestyle changes to other people. For example, you can show up to holiday parties with gifts in reusable decorative bags, rather than wasteful wrapping paper. If the party is likely to involve plastic plates and silverware, bring your own table setting from home (yes, my husband and I do this). And so on. If people ask why you’re being weird, tell them.

As far as gift-giving goes, part of the problem is doubtless poor judgment on the part of the giver. If you have no idea what to give someone, don’t guess–ask, or give a gift card. But I suspect part of the problem is a certain sense of obligation. You don’t really want or need much, so you ask for something you don’t really care all that much about.

Am I right?

Seriously, most people I know–myself included–have to be begged for Christmas wish lists most years. This year, there are some things I want, but not many.

So, if you’re in the position of not really wanting anything, don’t ask for things you don’t really want. Don’t say “I don’t want anything” either, as no one will believe you. Instead, ask for experiences you’ll enjoy (dinner at a favorite restaurant, for example) or ask for charitable donations made in your name.

My go-to wish-list items are requests for donations to the Union of Concerned Scientists, the League of Conservation Voters, and the Environmental Defense Fund. If I add a fourth, it’s the ACLU.

The other thing to consider is carbon budgeting–if it’s really important to you to travel hundreds of miles to go see family at this time of year (highly understandable), then go by the lowest-carbon means of travel you can, and cut back your travel at other times of year in order to leave room in your carbon budget for the holidays.

It Came Without Boxes, Ribbons, or Tags!

In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the moral of the story is that Christmas does not require anything in the way of materialistic splendor. Even if you have nothing, you can have Christmas.

It’s worth noting that a lot of people pretty much do have nothing. There are a lot of people who simply can’t afford to spend large amounts of money on unwanted gifts or lights nobody looks at. I realize that being asked to scale back for the sake of the planet is very disheartening when you don’t have any back to scale.

If that’s your situation, then let me say you’re not alone. Plenty of folks don’t have a lot of fat to cut. The good news, if there is any, is that you’re already there. You’re green.

 

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Oh, Christmas Tree!

The other day, my mother asked me whether she ought to switch to artificial an Christmas tree, for environmental reasons. This question has been addressed by other authors (please check those links for my source information), and the short answer is “no.”

(Don’t you like straightforward answers, Mom?)

But why the answer is no is interesting, as are the exceptions–my husband and I use an artificial tree, for example.

Natural Christmas Trees

You’d think this would start with a side-by-side comparison of pros and cons of each option. After all, using a natural tree involves cutting down a tree, and that can’t be good, right? But while I admit that cutting is bad for the individual tree, that’s not how conservation works. The health of the land as a whole doesn’t depend on the longevity of individual trees, but on the functioning of a whole system. While it’s possible to imagine Christmas trees being cut in environmentally destructive circumstances, I’ve never actually heard of the Christmas tree trade being a major driver of deforestation. Instead, Christmas trees are generally grown on farms–and a Christmas tree farm is a much better bet, environmentally speaking, than, say, a housing development. The growing trees do provide some wildlife habitat, protect and develop soil, and sequester carbon.

Most of the carbon sequestered by a growing tree is, of course, released when the tree dies and the wood rots or burns, but the farm as a whole holds carbon as generations of Christmas trees grow there. And while transporting the cut tree does involve carbon emissions, but depending on how far the trees have to travel and what happens to them after Christmas, these emissions can be minimal. Typically, half of a tree’s total carbon footprint comes from the trip the family makes to bring it home. If you drive less than ten miles to get the tree, and especially if the tree is mulched afterwards, rather than landfilled, your Christmas tree can actually be carbon-negative–that it, it fights global warming, rather than adding to it.

Even if you do drive farther for your tree, its carbon footprint is still dramatically smaller than that of an artificial tree.

Artificial Trees

It might be possible to produce sustainable artificial Christmas trees, but that’s not what is available in the stores. Artificial trees are almost always made of a combination of PVC plastic and steel, which are both carbon-intensive materials. They are recyclable, but virtually no recycling centers are prepared to disentangle the two, so artificial trees are typically treated as trash. The trees are also almost all made in China, meaning that they travel much farther (at a much greater carbon cost) than real trees normally do.

It is true that real trees are used only once and artificial trees can be used over and over–but if the live tree you’re comparing it to was carbon-negative, that’s irrelevant. The real tree is always going to be better. As for comparisons with live trees that do have carbon costs, estimates vary from five to 20 years, as to how many years an artificial tree must be used before its annual carbon cost starts to equal that of the real tree.

Most people replace their artificial trees after only six years.

Exceptional Trees

Whether artificial or real trees are better in the abstract is one question. “Which tree should I use?” is a completely different question. For example, our artificial tree is second-hand, and it likely would have been thrown away had we not taken it. Arguably, the environmental cost of the tree belongs at the feet of its original owners, since their decision not only paid for its manufacture, but also made certain it would one day need to be disposed of. We got the tree for free, environmentally speaking, and it saved us from having to buy any tree of any kind for well over ten years, now (my husband doesn’t remember when he got it, but it was here when I arrived).

You could also make your own artificial tree out of sustainably-sourced materials. You could also decorate a houseplant as your Christmas tree–balled and burlapped trees usually die, and spruces grown in pots as Christmas trees are only slightly more likely to make it, but you could decorate a Norfolk pine or another species that does well as a houseplant. You can do a little research to determine whether locally-grown trees are available in your area, whether Christmas trees can be mulched in your area (if you have a yard, you can also set your post-Christmas tree outside to provide cover for wild birds) and, if you want a live tree, you can make sure to pick it up from someplace less than ten miles from home (depending on the gas mileage of your vehicle).

In short, which tree you should use (assuming you want one at all) depends, in part, on your situation.


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Looking at Costs

The news today is that the US Federal government spends a lot of money on disasters and, because of climate change, is set to spend a lot more.

The story has turned up both online and on the PBS NewsHour, and probably elsewhere; Republican Senator, Susan Collins, of Maine, and Democratic Senator, Maria Cantwell, of Washington, together asked the Government Accountability Office (GAO) to look into how much money is spent on disaster assistance programs, plus the economic losses through flood and crop insurance—and how these costs may increase in the future due to climate change.

The Associated Press headline is “GAO: Climate Change Already Costing Us Billions.”

Maybe.

Look, I’ll be the first one to say that the headline is plausible–disaster spending is increasing frighteningly fast, and climate change has already made several forms of natural disaster (heat waves, hurricanes, wildfires) worse in measurable ways, as I’ve explored elsewhere in this blog. But the article is a bit fuzzy on the details, as are the other articles on related subjects I’ve found, and it would be nice to get clear on these things.

First bit of fuzz?

From the AP article:

A Government Accountability Office report released Monday said the federal government has spent more than $350 billion over the last decade on disaster assistance programs and losses from flood and crop insurance. That tally does not include the massive toll from this year’s three major hurricanes and wildfires, expected to be among the most costly in the nation’s history.

The report predicts these costs will only grow in the future, potentially reaching a budget busting $35 billion a year by 2050. The report says the federal government doesn’t effectively plan for these recurring costs, classifying the financial exposure from climate-related costs as “high risk.”

Ok, $350 billion-plus over ten years, increasing over the next three decades to $35 billion per year. Except that one tenth of 350 billion is 35 billion so it seems that we’re averaging over 35 billion per year already.

Another bit of fuzz is that not all of those dollars can be laid at the feet of climate change—if climate change weren’t happening, there would still be extreme weather, just less of it. How much less? How much is climate change costing us? More than zero, obviously, but how much?

I have not found an answer, so far. I’m not sure if there is one. How do you sort out how much of a storm is due to climate change? It may be possible to use statistics to tease that out, but only for aspects of weather that can be quantified—and these aspects may or may not scale with how “bad” an event is, which in turn may or may not scale with how expensive it is. The cost of a storm (or a drought, or a fire) is not just a factor of the weather event itself, but also of which human concerns happen to be in the way, and how much money the relevant officials choose to spend. It’s worth noting that the impact of disaster would have increased in recent decades even if the climate were not changing, because every year there is more development in existence that can be damaged. Go back far enough, and there was no Federal spending on disasters, not because there were no disasters, but because the Federal government did not involve itself in paying for them.

How do you sort out all of those threads?

The GOA study was not designed to measure climate change—it was designed to estimate how Federal costs are likely to go up if current policy remains the same, given that the climate is changing. The idea is presumably to examine whether current policy needs to change and how. The use of the study’s results as a climate wake-up call is legitimate, but partial.

It’s also worth noting that the figure of $350 billion, is also partial. It doesn’t include the startlingly high costs of this year’s catastrophic hurricanes. It doesn’t include costs borne by states nor by private individuals. Nor does it include Federal expenditures related to climate change that don’t come under the heading of disaster assistance, such as wildlands firefighting or the efforts of coastal parks to adjust their infrastructures to rising sea levels—costs that are met through the ordinary annual budgets of programs that would exist even if climate change did not. But without climate change, those funds could have gone to something else. Those budgets could have been stretched farther.

Ultimately, despite all these complications and provisos, the question raised by Senator Collins and Senator Cantwell is a good one. If climate change ends up being the thing that radically alters, or even does in, the United States of America, the end won’t come in a made-for-Hollywood superstorm or a heatwave from the imagination of Dante, it will come through unravelling budgets. It will come through a reduction of prosperity, a loss of options, a constraint of national choices.

We will see the country stop being able to take care of its own, and whatever political repercussions flow from that uncomfortable truth.

 

 

 


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Come On, Baby, Light My….

Obviously, the Wine Country fires are yet another of the many signs of the coming climate Apocalypse, right?

Well, maybe.

I’ll spare you all the suspense and say yes,wildfires probably are increasing due to climate change, but the picture is a little more complicated than it might appear. Let’s explore some of these extra details a bit, shall we?

First of all, a fire season can be “bad” in many different ways, just as a hurricane season can be, and in order to even assess whether fire seasons are getting worse, we need to first decide what kind of “bad” we’re even looking at. For example, a fire season can be bad because:

  • There are a lot of fires
  • A lot of acreage burns
  • The fire season is very long
  • The fires are unusually hot, thus causing more damage per acre burnt
  • Fire behavior is less predictable than normal, making the fire harder and more dangerous to fight
  • More places humans care about burn
  • Fighting fires costs more than usual
  • An unusual number of people die in fires

Obviously, several items on the menu can occur at the same time–a year might see a lot of very large, hot fires that behave unpredictably, kill lots of people, destroy lots of property, and cost a lot of money during a time of year when fire danger is normally low. But it’s also possible to see a huge number of very small fires, a small number of very large fires, or a season that seems bad only because beloved places burn, while fire behavior is otherwise fairly mild.

Also, some of the variables in play are clearly linked to climate, such as the length of the fire season. But other forms of “bad” are partly or wholly caused by other factors, such as where suburban development is occurring, how forests are being managed, and how wildfires are being fought.

As with hurricanes, the challenge is to tease out a consistent, relatively uncluttered dataset so you can compare apples to apples from year to year–for enough years for statistical relevance. Unfortunately, most of the articles don’t address where their information is coming from, even when the site is quite reputable, so it’s hard for a non-expert like me to judge how much we really know and how much is logically sound conjecture.

Wildfire Is Getting Worse Because of Climate Change

A simple online search brings up lots of articles on how climate change is definitely making wildfires worse (meaning “longer and more intense”). There are several mechanisms involved. Most directly, higher average temperatures drive more evaporation, and earlier snowmelt, meaning that fuels are drier for a greater part of the year even if precipitation remains the same. Indeed, fire seasons are usually two months longer now than they were a few decades ago. Longer fire seasons mean more fires and also a greater drain on national firefighting resources.

A hotter climate also increases the chance that firefighters may have to work in dangerously hot weather. Hot weather at night can be especially damaging, because heat injury is cumulative. If the body can’t rest from the heat, then heat stroke becomes more likely.

Changes in precipitation patterns, another aspect of climate change, are also important, and not only because some areas are increasingly vulnerable to drought. Climate change involves a concentration of precipitation, so that a greater proportion of the rain that does fall comes in intense cloudbursts, with longer gaps in between. Even if average precipitation holds steady or goes up, this “never rains but it pours” situation is bad news. The rainstorms trigger lush plant growth, which then dries out in the long periods between rains, increasing fuel loads.

The number of acres burned per year has gone up over the past forty years, although the year-to-year variation is very large as well and tends to complicate the picture.

And of course, changes in land-use patterns play their own roles, since there are more houses being built in wooded areas than there used to be, and those houses burn if the woods do.

Wildfire Might Not Be Getting Worse

I’ve also found a few articles arguing that wildfires aren’t getting worse at all. One article argued that America’s forests are getting too dense because there aren’t enough fires and that Congress should provide immediate relief by encouraging logging. Unfortunately, I have not been able to re-find that article, so I can’t verify either its methods or its politics. The other simply points to the lack of trend and leaves it at that.

In some ways, it’s a pretty solid piece–it even links back to several original research papers, and the website, which belongs to a group of public radio stations has no obvious political agenda. A close reading of the article, and its sources, resolves the apparent contradiction.

The author, Tom Banse, acknowledges that fire seasons have been trending worse in recent decades, as other authors describe, yet he frames his own article as providing “contrast” by discussing three scientific papers that “question that prevailing wisdom” by looking at longer time scales.

Time scale is important. It’s possible to create trends out of nothing, or erase trends that actually exist, simply by looking at data from either a too-short interval or a too-long interval. Reading Mr. Banse’s article, it looks as though such obfuscation may be occurring with respect to wildfire, at least in the Western United States. Reading the papers he cites….

The link to one of those three papers is broken. The other two do say the things that Mr. Banse says they say, but not in any way that contrasts with the narrative of climate-induced fire severity.

One paper (actually a report by the United States Forest Service) concludes that, at least in some parts of California, fires were more frequent before the European-American conquest than they have been in modern times, defined as since 1908. In other words, it does not comment at all on changes in fire frequency over the past forty years–the study did not look at trends at all, at any time scale. Instead, the study’s methods involved dividing the study area up into ecologically defined sub-units and comparing the fire frequency for each unit before conquest to the fire frequency after 1908. Thus, all the fires in all the years since 1908 are subsumed into a single number.

There is nothing wrong with that method, but it was designed to address a very different question than the one Mr. Banse is using it to address. It’s a non-sequitur that happens to include the requisite words that wildfires used to be more frequent.

The other paper demonstrates that prior to conquest, fires were often more intense than conventional wisdom among conservationists maintain. Note that the authors of this paper aren’t talking about modern fire behavior at all. They are comparing their understanding of pre-conquest fire severity with somebody else’s understanding of pre-conquest fire severity.

Mr. Banse does quote one of the paper’s authors as saying that fire severity is less now than what “early settlers were dealing with,” but it’s unclear where this quote comes from–it does not come from the paper, since the language of the quote is not formal. Without the original context, we can’t tell what Dr. DellaSala was really talking about in his quoted remarks, or what information he was basing his remarks on. He does not seem to be arguing against the idea that climate change is causing larger, hotter, or more frequent wildfires, only that, from a strictly ecological perspective, more fire isn’t the disaster people seem to think it is.

A very interesting point–but relative to Mr. Banse, it’s another convenient non-sequitur.

Does Tom Banse have a climate-denier agenda? Maybe. The article is certainly structured as a counterpoint against the use of wildfire as evidence of the reality of climate change. I suspect that in the three years since its publication, it has been linked to by climate deniers more often than by the climate sane. But without more information, I cannot judge Mr. Banse. It’s possible he just felt that a counterpoint to prevailing wisdom seemed more interesting.

What’s Going on with Wildfire?

The actual fire we see is a result of a combination of climate, land management (including fire management), and other factors. The research Mr. Banse references hints at that complexity, though probably not in the way he intended.

While the quoted researchers seem to treat the conditions found by settlers as natural, it is likely that the lands in question were being managed intensively with fire prior to conquest–fire was a common management tool in many areas of North America, though I don’t know the details for the areas in those studies (if we don’t normally think of Native Americans as having their own land management practices, it’s because we’re racist; the idea that any part of the American was untouched by humans prior to white people showing up implicitly assumes that Native Americans aren’t human). After conquest, management with fire stopped, and was, within several decades, replaced by active fire suppression (when I was doing fuels reduction cutting in Arizona, I was told that grazing by cattle dramatically reduced fire frequency well before fire suppression began–close-cropped grass did not carry flame well). Of course there were fewer fires–that was the idea.

Decades of fire suppression increased fuel loads dramatically, thus increasing fire risk. Land managers have in more recent decades responded by conducting controlled burns and by allowing some fires that do not threaten developed areas or infrastructure to burn freely. Between one thing and another, fire frequency and severity have increased again, and would have increased anyway whether climate change intervened or not.

It’s not that I don’t believe climate change is a factor–in fact, I don’t see how climate change could avoid being a factor, given that it directly affects both fuel load and fuel moisture content, as well as making firefighting more dangerous due to the risk of heat stroke, as mentioned. But neither the fact that more acreage is burning, nor the fact that this year’s fires are particularly bad is itself the proverbial smoking gun.

What I’d like to see–and I’m sure this exists, I just haven’t seen it this week–is an article, written for a general readership, that presents the changes in fire behavior that result from climate change as separate from those that result from changes in land management and fire management practices. And I mean observed changes, not simply a discussion of what climate change ought to be doing based on our general knowledge of it.

That Mr. Banse may have had an agenda doesn’t make him wrong; that he is wrong makes him wrong. Most people have an agenda of one kind or another, and even those who profess to being utterly objective generally reflect somebody’s viewpoint or priority system (for example, who is paying for their objective scientific research and why?). The point isn’t to avoid those who have agendas, the point is to avoid lies, misleading statements, and agendas that are irrational, dysfunctional, or immoral in some way. Mr. Banse was honest enough to give us the tools to evaluate his talking points–he included links to peer-reviewed scholarship. That’s why we can say that his article was close to meaningless. I find myself wishing that more writers whose agendas I might like better were equally helpful and honest, if only so I could be certain they are right.

So, to summarize: wildfires are burning more acres per year, on average, than they did when I was born, and fire seasons are longer. Fires are also more dangerous to fight because of the increased likelihood of heat waves. Climate change is part of this picture, because it gives us longer summers and longer dry periods between wet periods. But other factors are also changing fire behavior, and at the moment one of the areas that happens to be on fire is beautiful and famous and populated, so we really care about it.

And at 11:31 PM of the day I’m supposed to post this, I can’t tell you what the relationships among all those factors is, or whether anyone knows.

 

(Note; actually, someone might know, and that someone might be me; I’ve written about fire in this blog before, but since I’ve been chasing information online today without much success, I haven’t had the time to reread my own work and hunt down my earlier sources. The result is this article that comments on the need for better science communication as much as on climate change itself)


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Just the Facts

I just returned from leading a bus tour through Assateague Island, a barrier island near where I live. It’s far from the first time I’ve given a natural history talk, but I hadn’t done it in awhile, and never before on a tour bus. The difference is that on a bus, the content of my talk has to be synchronized to the changing view outside the bus window. Also, I needed about four hours of content, instead of the twenty minutes to an hour that I’m used to.  I’m tired, but I had fun.

To prepare for the job, I tagged along with another guide (my husband) on a couple of bus tours, and I was struck by how often climate change came up. Of course, Assateague is the perfect place to talk about climate change. As a low-lying island, the place is vulnerable to sea level rise and extreme weather, and the plants are vulnerable to changes in insect survival through the winter. Almost any story or explanation on the island can plausibly include the phrase”because of climate change.” And yet, we live in a day and age when climate change is regularly ignored in public, even when it is entirely obvious. When the subject is raised, it is often done in a strident and political way, for obvious reasons–producing an unfortunate feedback loop, where the climate-denier activities of one political bloc forces climate sanity to align itself with the other political bloc, forcing climate discussions further out of politically neutral spaces, such as bus tours. I was pleasantly surprised to see that there is another way.

It is possible to talk about climate change in a matter-of-fact, apolitical way. The reason why that piece of coastline looks like that is climate change. Boom. Simple. On the bus today, I said “if anybody ever said ‘where’s climate change,’ you can say you’ve seen it.” And a busfull of strangers accepted that.

Just a simple fact of the world we live in.

 


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Ordinary Threats

On the 23rd day of the month of September, in an early year of a decade not too long before our own, the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. And this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places.

Thus begins Little Shop of Horrors, a movie I was completely obsessed with for about five years as a kid. Thus also begins a post I wrote a year ago, in honor of the date and of then-current events. I’m reworking that post now. After all, Mr. Trump has been elected President, is giving all the signals up-and-coming fascist dictators do, has initiated the American pull-out of the Paris Agreement, largely dismantled the EPA, is quietly letting American citizens in Puerto Rico die while he dog-whistles racists over football, and may well start a nuclear war with North Korea any day now (if North Korea doesn’t start one with us, first).

Our very existence indeed seems under deadly threat.

As the subject of my post, I took, not the movie, Little Shop of Horrors, but the play it was based on. The critical difference between the two is that the latter does not have a happy ending. The carnivorous plant wins. It is a much darker–and more interesting–story.

In brief, the story is as follows:

A flower shop on Skid Row (a strange idea in itself) is about to go out of business, when the shop assistant, Seymour, puts a strange plant in the window, to draw in customers. And it works! Inexplicably, customers start pouring in! But then the plant wilts, and the owner orders Seymour to fix the plant Or Else. Seymour discovers that the plant perks up only when fed human blood. Of course, he pays up–his coworkers are the closest thing Seymour has to a family and the store is his only means of livelihood. The plant grows, business flourishes, and Seymour must give more and more blood. The plant gains the power of speech and tells Seymour to deliver an entire human. The man refuses. The plant temps him with money, respect, access to beautiful women. The man wavers. The plant points out that the woman Seymour loves is dating an abusive jackass who deserves to die. Sold.

Seymour gets the girl (who had always loved him, it turns out), money, fame, the whole nine yards, but then the owner of the shop discovers the murder and blackmails Seymour. Soon, the boss, too, is eaten.

Seymour now has everything, but the guilt is eating him and he tries to rebel. The plant attacks Seymour’s beloved, who then dies, asking Seymour to feed her to the plant because then at least they can be together. He complies, but then flies into a rage, tries to kill the plant, fails, climbs into its mouth intending to kill it from the inside, and dies. Shortly thereafter, a businessman arrives to take cuttings, intending to propagate the plant worldwide.

When I was a kid, I saw the plant as no more evil than a mosquito (a potentially lethal blood sucker). I see the story now as a morality play and a true and disturbing tragedy.

In a classic tragedy, the hero loses, not because he (rarely she) is overwhelmed by superior forces or bad luck, but because he is destroyed from within by his own shortcomings–which are inextricably related to the very things that make him great. The scary thing is that Seymour is great only in that he is ordinary. He’s normal. A bit geeky and skittish, but basically one of us. It’s hard not to like him. And who among us would not behave as he does? A little blood to save our livelihood? Sure. From there, Seymour gradually crosses one red line after another, taking the least bad option at each turn while the options steadily get worse and the stakes grow ever higher–at what point can any of us honestly say we would have done anything differently?

The final song of the play states the moral of the story:

They may offer you fortune and fame,
Love and money and instant acclaim.
But whatever they offer you,
Don’t feed the plants!

Although there’s no evidence the people who wrote Little Shop of Horrors intended to create anything other than a goofy spoof of a grade B horror movie, it works very well as a metaphor for exactly the process that is threatening the world. After all, how could the fossil fuel industry create climate change, if not with our money? And yet we keep feeding them, sometimes in order to obtain luxury and power, but more often because how else are we supposed to get to work?
This week’s nuclear threat is a somewhat different animal. It is less obvious that we, the people, are directly complicit, for one thing, and it’s far from certain that a nuclear exchange in this case is a threat to the world as a whole–North Korea is not the USSR. The more realistic fear is regional destruction on an unprecedented scale. The United States can win a war against North Korea, provided China does not intervene, but with what stains on its soul? My president is casually threatening a level of violence that could kill close to 26 million people, most of them utterly innocent and powerless in this situation. Not global destruction, but bad enough.
But I’m a child of the eighties. You say “nuclear,” and I think Mutually Assured Destruction. I think nuclear winter. I think the end of the world.
I think I’ve got a couple of books I really want to publish before I die.
I don’t know what actually should be done about North Korea. Such things are outside of my field of expertise and beyond the scope of this blog. I do know what should be done about climate change, but I do not know what I can do, personally, to make it happen, beyond what I have been doing, which is not much and isn’t working. Somehow, we’re collectively feeding the plant. We’re feeding it through our elections, our purchases, and by our prioritization of other issues for reasons that anybody would understand. How do you ? How do you stop being an ordinary person?
A nuclear bomb can destroy a city. But so can climate change–we’ve seen it happen. We’ve seen worse. There are people in Puerto Rico who will go to sleep tonight in houses that have no running water, no electricity, and no roof.
How do you stop being ordinary?

Hold your hat and hang on to your soul.
Something’s coming to eat the world whole.
If we fight it we’ve still got a chance.
But whatever they offer you,
Though they’re slopping the trough for you,
Please, whatever they offer you,
Don’t feed the plants!


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How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?

As I write this, it seems likely that Dominica has been destroyed, given that the island has been raked by a Category 5 hurricane–that’s Maria, in case anyone has lost track. The storm will hit Puerto Rico and St. Croix, but where it will go next is unclear. A strike to the mainland US cannot be ruled out, possibly at Cape Hatteras and maybe again at Cape Cod, but at least it will not recapitulate Irma or Harvey.

I’m underneath a hurricane right now myself (Jose), though only the edge, so conditions here are not bad. The weather is blustery, with occasional rain. The main part of the storm is out in the Atlantic, and it seems likely to sty Although I wouldn’t want to have to go out in it, but we’re pretty safe right here, at the moment. The important thing to notice is that we’ve had three major hurricanes in the Atlantic that made landfall within just over thirty days.

This is turning out to be one of the years when climate change is more obvious.

I want to emphasize, though, that weather is still variable, and that if next year we have hardly any Atlantic hurricanes, climate change will still be just as real. If we don’t want deniers using random cold snaps to fuel their arguments, we should refrain from equivalent lapses of logic. The problem of Maria and her colleagues is not that they prove climate change (they may, but so do lots of other factors) but that they illustrate it.

This is what is coming. This is what normal is going to look like.

I know I keep saying this, but it keeps being true, and honestly it just seems silly to write aout anything else as yet another Cat 5 hurricane bears down.