I can point to an experience seven or eight years ago that explains why I write. On a warm summer evening my wife and I were on the dock solving world problems with our good friend Scott Johnson, when Scott and I realized a mutual interest in writing. We made a pact to get together every couple weeks to share something we'd scratched out, and it became routine. Not long after, a local writer's group formed and our dock meeting moved to a monthly gathering at Black Dog Coffee, which continues today.
Beyond the obligation to have something to share with Scott, I started writing for at least three reasons:
— I'm not good at thinking on my feet. I need alone time to ruminate on a topic before forming an opinion.
— I write because it’s a dread, a challenge, and a passion rolled into one. The most difficult and rewarding thing I know. The last thing I want to do and all I want to do.
— I write on matters that concern me most, that threaten the ecological systems supporting life on Earth. When those systems break down, which they are doing, there are life altering consequences. That’s worth writing about.
I was recently asked to give a presentation on the state of wildlife today, but it became more than a talk on orioles and raccoons and lightning bugs. Concerns for wildlife are a segway to the sixth mass extinction, rising sea levels, desertification, loss of habitats, increased frequency of destructive weather events. Inevitably, it leads to climate change and its effects on national security, trade, economics, and the hopes and dreams of every person alive.
For several years I made an effort to steer away from politics. But the reality is the environmental threats we face are time sensitive and not likely to be addressed with speed without government mandates and incentives. To this end the US is failing miserably. China, with full government support, is installing solar fields at a rate of 1 gigawatt every 8 hours— the equivalent of an average nuclear power plant— while we prop up antiquated coal-fired facilities, reduce environmental safeguards for oil and gas, and remove incentives for renewable energies like wind and solar.
I don’t write to change closed minds or argue facts supported by overwhelming evidence. Those who see climate change as a hoax, who use a blue jay in the backyard as proof songbird populations are good, who won’t accept that extreme weather events are increasing, are likely beyond persuasion. I write for those undecided, who doubt things could be as dire as predicted, or who feel powerless to respond.
We have technologies that hold tremendous promise and no shortage of skilled and dedicated engineers. If given full support, they’ll find solutions beyond our dreams.
It’s complicated and challenging and requires commitment from every industrialized nation. But rather than leading the way, the US is doubling down on fuels and practices that pump more heat trapping pollutants into the atmosphere. Rather than harnessing clean, free energy, we’re still shoveling coal.
Alexander Von Humboldt warned of the influence of human activities on climate in the early 1800’s. ExxonMobil scientists recognized the threat of atmospheric CO2 more than 50 years ago but kept their findings under wraps. The impact that greenhouse gases have on global temperatures is not new information, but time has caught up with us. We delay at our own peril.
In his new book, “Here Comes the Sun: A Last Chance for the Climate and a Fresh Chance for Civilization,” author Bill McKibben puts it all in perspective:
— In the past two years, 95 percent of new electric generation came from wind and solar. Once viewed as costly alternatives, clean, renewable energies are now the most economical.
— Half of the corn grown in the US is turned into ethanol. Farming produces one crop of corn per year. The ethanol rendered from one acre of corn powers a traditional Ford F150 25,000 miles. In one year, a single acre of solar panels will power an all electric Ford F150 for 700,000 miles.
— More than half the cars sold in China last year were electric and powered by sodium ion batteries. Sodium is abundant and readily available.
— According to the Rocky Mountain Institute, an organization focused on energy and efficiency, the amount of mining required to satisfy world demand for lithium through 2050 is less than the mining done for coal last year.
— Forty percent of ocean freight involves transporting carbon fuels— oil, liquified natural gas, and coal.
— The US is the second highest carbon emitting country in the world.
— States, counties, and local jurisdictions are free to move towards clean energy without federal support. Deep red Texas is installing renewable energy faster than any other state. California reduced its reliance on natural gas for electricity by 40 percent in one year as a result of solar development.
Solutions within our reach, yet we waver— paralyzed by politics, short term interests, and willful ignorance. It’s maddening.
And so I write, venting frustrations, mourning losses, hoping against hope that those of us occupying the most powerful and wealthy country in the world will become aware, alter our behaviors, and demand change for the sake of a living planet. Numbers provide power and with power comes momentum. We can still get it done. It’s too late to avoid a lot of discomfort— it’s not too late to avoid the worst.
As I wrapped up this piece I stepped out for a swim in the pond. The heat index was 105, the pond still low following several inches of rain. An osprey appeared out of nowhere, struck the water near the island and climbed skyward with a spunky bluegill in its talons. Twice it paused mid-flight to shake like a dog before disappearing over the treetops.
It was a snippet of something timeless. Predator meeting prey. Much more than a bird catching a fish, it was a beautifully refined transfer of energy relying on endless connections between the living and nonliving. Perfect in function. Marvelous to behold. All of it, threatened.
