Where We Are

June stopped for a visit this April. Temperatures approached 80°, and with plenty of sunshine the lawn awoke and greened and was soon worthy of mowing.  In the garden, fall planted garlic put out fresh shoots, puckered rhubarb leaves unfurled; spinach, radish, and peas germinated.  On the log at the pond’s edge, over 40 turtles basked in the warming sun, and the yard was a symphony of birdsong.  In late afternoons we would sit on the deck overlooking the pond, a balmy breeze carrying hints of hyacinth, a chilled brew in hand, and revel in the great awakening. 

But there were notable absences.  The cacophony of birdsong lacked the melodious warble of bluebirds. In our walks along the pond edge, snakes were a scarcity, as were frogs and toads.  On the south wall of the chicken house where the first warm days typically bring a gathering of wasps and flies, there were few.

It’s early in the season.  Birds are still moving, insects, reptiles, amphibians, still emerging from overwintering retreats or yet to hatch.  It’s too soon to draw conclusions for the year, but over decades on this property we have noticed downward trends in both the variety of species and their relative numbers, even as the quality of key habitats has markedly improved.  

Worldwide, loss of species diversity is well documented and sooner or later will be apparent everywhere.  It’s a canary in the coal mine moment, where the canary is a host of wild populations and the mine is the biosphere. The canary is dying.  It’s insidious, but the day comes when we realize instead of dozens of migratory swallows darting over the pond there is but a handful, the young toads that once numbered hundreds in the outdoor stairwell to the basement are nonexistent, the flowers on the willow that should be abuzz with pollinators hang in nearly undisturbed silence.  

Explanations are many, and all are based on an ambitious objective for societal growth with a less than adequate consideration for environmental health.  We have, in our quest for comfort, convenience, and an overall higher standard of living, acquiesced to corporate influence, pledged our allegiance to a capitalistic ideal, and let pass our best shot to assure an optimistic future for the generations that will follow us.  We have infused our environment with forever chemicals, overfished and contaminated our oceans with plastics, subscribed to destructive agricultural practices, abused our waterways, and set a solid course towards climate catastrophe.

So where are we?  Mayer Hillman, an 86 year old British architect and town planner who spent his life promoting a more socially and environmentally conscious public policy, believes we are doomed.  He says it with a broad smile and a twinkle in his eye, following his 60 plus years of work to call attention to the threat of climate change, and particularly the role that automobiles have played (he is an enthusiastic supporter of bicycles).  He likens his apparent cheerfulness with the attitude taken by someone diagnosed with terminal illness: they do all they can to prolong their lives and rarely go on a disastrous binge.  His focus today is on music, love, and education.  Happiness, he says, can still be pursued and enjoyed with little or no fossil fuel consumption.

Hillman points out that even if the world dropped carbon emissions to zero today, we would not prevent the ice caps from melting.  There are consequences in having CO2 levels spike to a range not seen in three million years, and most of those consequences are yet to be experienced.

The majority of us now recognize the dire environmental threats we face and accept responsibility for them. Many of us take personal action to lessen our impact on natural systems in our daily decisions and behaviors, on the purchases we make. Hillman believes our efforts are futile, that we cannot separate ourselves from our reliance on fossil fuels and the endless stream of products produced via non sustainable and often toxic practices. A collapse of civilization, he believes, is likely.

Not everyone in the earth sciences agrees.  Some hold firm to a more hopeful outlook and believe we will, eventually, make the right decisions so life can go on. But it will not be an easy transition and things will assuredly get worse before they get better.  The burning of fossil fuels will play no role in the future and there will be dramatic changes in our use of and respect for our remaining natural resources, our attitudes towards natural systems, the foods we eat, our values, even our way of defining and finding happiness.  Almost everything must change.  What we cannot do is pretend we can save ourselves with a new and improved environmental awareness while hundreds of airports are being built, cruise liners gear up for business as usual, and countries are salivating to see GDP’s return to pre-pandemic levels.

We haven’t lost our spirit, and like Hillman, still have the ability to recognize and enjoy good music and company, to love people, to ride bikes, to smile and be decent to one another.  We haven’t lost the opportunity to educate ourselves, to demand equality and a fair distribution of wealth, to defend democracy and better understand, appreciate, and respect the magnificence in nature.  We don’t have to lose hope and let go of happiness.  We can still make the world a better place.