The Climate in Emergency

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


Climate Change and Religion

This is the conclusion of my series on climate and religion, which profiled Catholicism, the evangelical, mainline, and African-American wings of Protestant Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and American Neopaganism. These are hardly the only religions, or even the only ones in the United States, but together they are dominant voices. If anyone wants to see another religion profiled, just let me know.

Throughout writing this series, I was struck by a recurring pattern; America’s religions are mostly pro-climate, and American people are mostly religious, and yet America as a whole is decidedly climate denialist. Meaningful climate legislation won’t pass Congress.


Seriously. Leaders and representatives of every group I researched had published pro-climate statements and only among the evangelical Christians could I find any organized dissent on the issue. On the face of it, that implies that religious people are generally pro-climate, with the exception of some (not all) evangelicals. And yet, there are simply too many religious people in the country, and too few who take climate change seriously, for religion to actually be the pro-climate force that it repeatedly says it is. In polls, only 16% of Americans identify as unaffiliated with any religion. Just over 26% identify as evangelicals. Since some evangelicals are climate activists and climate scientists, as are some unaffiliated people, that means that less than 42% of Americans should be indifferent or hostile to climate. Everybody else belongs to religions whose leaders who have come out in favor of the planet. And yet fully 50% of Americans actually describe themselves as “unconcerned” about climate. Only 5% consider climate change our most important issue. Only seven US states are not currently represented by at least one climate denier in Congress; 11 states have Congressional delegations with a majority of climate deniers.

So what is going on? How and why is there such a disconnect between what American religious leaders say and what American political leaders actually do?

Part of the issue is simply that many religious groups are less interested in climate than their leaders’ public statements suggest; according to polls, only a little over a third of all Americans “often” or “sometimes” hear their clergy discus climate change. Of white Catholics, 40% never hear about climate change in church, despite Pope Francis’ outspoken environmentalism. Of white mainline Protestants, 37% never hear about climate change from their pastors, again despite public pronouncements by church leaders. Those religious people who do hear about the issue from their clergy are significantly more likely to believe in climate change and take it seriously than those who do not.

Are we looking at a case of religious hippocracy, where church leaders say one thing but do another? Possible, but I doubt it. I suspect that most American clergy, of whatever stripe, are not hostile to climate so much as uninterested in it. Those who do care, and who publish statements on global warming, are met, not with controversy but with silence. The result is that, except for evangelicals, the only voices an outsider like me hears on the subject are those of the vocal minority who are climate-concerned.

Another part of the issue is that many people who do accept climate change are happy to vote for political leaders who do not, provided they like the rest of the candidate’s presentation–but climate deniers will not vote for a candidate who does accept climate change. The result is that candidates put together winning coalitions by denying climate change.

Climate deniers are louder, politically speaking, than the climate-accepting majority, in part because many evangelical Christians have, rightly or wrongly, linked climate science (and evolution) to other issues that are also important to them. As political liberals have shown themselves more concerned over climate change, climate has become identified with the “liberal agenda,” such that a vote for climate is, by proxy, a vote for social changes conservative Christians do not want.

In contrast, people who do accept climate change seem not to have made equivalent conceptual links. Just 5% of Americans consider climate change the country’s most pressing issue, while many more consider the gap between rich and poor (18%) or health care (17%) the most important–even though climate change is closely related to both economics and public health. Only 25% say climate change is even the most pressing environmental problem, while 29% say the worst environmental problem is pollution and 23% say it is water shortages and drought–even though climate change is caused by pollution and is an important cause of water shortages and drought. It seems that many people who believe climate change is real still don’t believe that it is important because they do not see the connections between climate and the other issues they care about.

It’s also worth noting that the electoral results relative to climate change do not exactly reflect the will of the American people right now. A huge amount of money is being poured into electoral politics in support of climate denial candidates (and candidates who are otherwise in favor of big business)–and those efforts are succeeding. While liberal candidates raise huge amounts of money, too, and some of their donors are indeed very rich, no one is in the same financial league as Charles and David Koch–who get much of their money through the oil industry. The electoral landscape of the United States is now a direct result of the fact that climate deniers–of whatever religion–have substantially deeper pockets than climate activists do.

So, what is religion good for?

So, if religion in America is not the force for climate sanity that it looks like it should be, what is it good for?

The simple answer is that if religious leaders who do support climate action organize themselves better and do more effective outreach among their colleagues, we could indeed see a major cultural shift on the subject–and we may be heading in that direction. Let’s give those leaders their due.

But mobilizing congregations is only one of the possible roles of religion in climate change, and it may not even be the most important role. Not all religious people take the advice of their clergy to heart, after all, especially in areas of life not considered obviously religious. And non-Christian religions are such small minorities in the United States that mobilizing those congregations on climate will not, by itself, swing the national conversation very much.

What religious leaders can do is give the national conversation more depth of meaning. Religion can host an exploration of why climate matters.

“Religion” means many things, including a dimension of the collective human soul. By this definition, even many atheists are religious, because they wrestle with meaning, priority, and morality. Specific religions are entities dedicated to discovering and spreading particular visions of the meaning of life. Religions are places within the culture set aside for discovering what matters and why, what our ideals are, and what our standards are, just as sciences are zones within the culture set aside for discovering what exists and how it works. Science can tell us that the planet is heating up because of human activity and it can predict the kinds of disasters we face if we don’t stop warping the sky very soon. But science cannot tell us why that’s a problem or why the planet is worth fighting for. That’s what religion can do.

Science can tell you that if you point a loaded gun at somebody’s head and pull the trigger, you’ll probably kill the person, but only religion can tell you that it’s murder.

The religions, collectively, can host a discussion of the moral dimensions of climate change. They can be our conscience, and they can serve that function not just for their own adherents but for all of us. I don’t have to be Buddhist to have my conscience pricked by a Buddhist teacher who calls out climate apathy as a failure of awareness and compassion. You don’t have to be Wiccan to be inspired by a vision of the planet as an entity to whom we owe a debt of care. Neither of us must be Christian to consider that perhaps we only become most fully alive when we dedicate our lives to the service of something larger than ourselves.

Apathy, cowardice, gluttony, denial, and greed have the capacity at this very moment to render our beautiful planet something less than what we were given to care for. Fortunately, there are people who know how to cope with and combat those darker tides of human nature. We should listen to them.


Climate Change and Pagans

This is another in my series on climate change and religion in the US. I have already written on Catholicism, evangelical Christianity, mainline Protestant Christianity, African-American Protestant Christianity, and Islam.

American paganism is misunderstood, hard to define, and, for many, plain unfamiliar. It is the subject of active discrimination in some circles, to the extent that many pagans hide their religion for their own safety–a measure of how different the pagan continuum is from the religious experience of most Americans.

Related to that discrimination is the fact that it’s possible to discredit someone by accusing them of paganism (or witchcraft, or anything related). Sometimes environmentalists are accused of being pagan in this sense. The implied–and much more problematic–accusation is that environmentalism is pagan.

Some pagan environmentalists would, of course, agree that environmentalism is pagan, in much the same way that a Christian might say that ministering to the poor and the sick is Christian. But imagine a country in which Christians are suspect and the problem becomes clearer to see; perhaps some Roman aristocrat, on the way home from the Colosseum, decided that if charity is Christian than he certainly wasn’t going to give any of his money away….

So, to be clear, environmentalism is not pagan, any more than individualism, compassion, or creativity are. Probably, most American environmentalists are Christians.

Defining Paganism

Technically, “pagan” just means “not Christian,” or sometimes “non-Judeo-Christian.” In the US and in some other places, the word usually replies to the neopagan movement, a large group of religions and religious sects that generally attempt to revive or re-imagine the pre-Christian traditions from Europe. The most well-known of these religions is Wicca. Some pagans call themselves witches (a male witch is also a witch), but others do not.

Most of what most people know about these religions is wrong.

The neopagan religions are not, as a group, organized. Most are not organized in any sense. There is no one with the authority to tell pagans what to believe or do, and no one with the authority to say who is pagan and who is not. Even consulting polls is problematic, because pagans are not always willing to identify themselves to pollsters. And there aren’t very many of us, so pollsters don’t always bother to ask. Probably, around 0.2% of the American population is neopagan in one way or another.

Fortunately, I am pagan, and therefore know something about it already.

It is important to reiterate that there is more than one neopagan religion and that their edges are fluid and fuzzy. For example, is an agnostic who celebrates the winter solstice pagan? What about a witch who casts spells but doesn’t believe in the gods? Or a New Age practitioner who worships Jesus and his wife, Mary Magdalene? Are people who follow traditional Native American practices or African Diaspora religions, like Santeria or Voudou, pagans in this sense of the word, or is there some important difference to be respected there? There are many answers to these questions–probably as many answers as there are pagans.  It is important to approach any study of the movement with this fluidity and fuzziness in mind.

I’m not going to describe the neopagan movement in any detail here. There are plenty of books and websites on the subject already. As a broad generalization, neopagan religions tend to be polytheistic, egalitarian, and individualistic. Most have no concept of the devil, and may lack a conception of evil. Neopagans tend to be both feminist and socially liberal. Many (though not all) are “Earth-centered,” meaning that they recognize the Earth as inherently sacred or even divine.

Pagans as Climate Activists

Earth-centered religions have obvious doctrinal support for environmental action; the Earth is sacred. And perhaps because most of these religions are only a few decades old, there is no conflict between ancient cosmology and modern science–neopagans might question, or even abandon mainstream science (many believe in magic), but that is an expression of resistance to having a set cosmology, a kind of radical open-mindedness. There is no reason for a neopagan to doubt climate science and I know of none who do.

But do pagans actually act on that support to do something about climate change?

Well, this one does–I write this blog. But this blog is not religious in nature and, before today, there was nothing in it to suggest its author’s religion. The same is probably true of most other pagan environmentalists, people going about acting on their conscience without ever discussing their religious lives publicly–either because it isn’t safe or because it just isn’t relevant.

Many neopagans are either unaffiliated with any religious organization, or they practice in small, private groups. Organized groups of pagans exist, but they under-represent the whole. Lacking anything analogous to a church, most pagans cannot engage in climate action in anything except a personal or secular capacity–they may be motivated by an underlying religious conviction, but it is hard to know that without asking. That makes it hard to find out what the impact of paganism on climate action really is.

Here, again, the “fuzziness” of neopaganism is relevant, for while a climate activist might be pagan without showing it, he or she might also show paganism without being it. For example, at my graduate school, the environmental studies department (that is, the department actively training people to do something about climate change) had a tradition of beginning each semester (and occasionally marking other significant events) by ceremonially reenacting this history of the universe in mythic terms–the stage right before the Big Bang was the Cosmic Egg, for example. That ceremony was non-denominational Neopagan in both flavor and structure, to the point that at least one Christian student chose not to attend. Nor was that ceremony the only pagan element of the school’s traditions. Yet the only member of the department’s faculty to identify his religion publicly was Christian. Generally, no one, faculty or student, talked about religion one way or the other. My guess is that most were agnostic or atheist and that they participated in the school’s traditions as a form of play, or out of a vague sense that it resonated with aspects of their private spirituality. The school could not be said to be religious.

And yet, public play that resonates with private, unspoken, spirituality is very pagan.  The neopagan movement takes much of its inspiration from a form of religion that was based in community tradition and in those cultures’ equivalent of scientific knowledge–their understanding of how the world worked and why. The original European pagans probably conducted their ceremonies in exactly the same spirit that my grad school did. We may have been what a neopagan community acting on climate change looks like.

Bringing It All Together

There are neopagans writing or speak publicly about climate change in a religious context. I have not done a rigorous study of such work, but most of what I have encountered consists of pagans exploring how pagan ideas map onto what science tells us about climate change. They are not calling for other pagans to get involved, nor are they wrestling with whether climate change is real or important, possibly because they regard both as forgone conclusions. Rather, the underlying question seems to be whether neopagan practice has anything of its own to add to the conversation.

It is possible that looking for self-declared pagan climate activists is beside the point.

Perhaps paganism as a group of religions is hard to define because it is and always  has been a default category applied by other people–pagans are those who are not Christian, not Jewish, not Muslim, and so forth. Perhaps our society as a whole is growing towards a realization that the Earth is sacred–that is, that it is of central and existential importance to us as humans. Each religion expresses that realization in a different way, and the growing popularity of Earth-centered religions among what might be called ceremonially inclined religious individualists is just another expression of that movement.

In other words, neopagans do not lead, drive, define, or even exemplify caring about the planet. But the societal shift that made that caring possible made us possible as well.