7 Jul 2014
Naomi Oreskes is a historian at science who teaches and does research at Harvard University. She is the author, with Erik Conway, of the excellent The Merchants of Doubt: how a Handful of Scientists Obscured the Truth on Issues from Tobacco to Global Warming. We caught up by Skype to talk climate scepticism, science and the relationship between the two. I started by asking who the ‘Merchants of Doubt’ are, and why she felt compelled to research and write about them.
“The Merchants of Doubt were a small group of people, mostly scientists, mostly older physicists, who had created common cause with think tanks and the fossil fuel industry to challenge the scientific evidence of climate change. We wrote the book because we stumbled across the story, we didn’t set out to write a story about climate change denial.
Eric and I are both historians who were working on other problems in the history of science. I was working on the history of oceanography, he was working on the history of atmospheric science. We stumbled across the story of these prominent physicists who had become climate change deniers. But Eric had also found materials related to the denial of the scientific evidence of the ozone hole and it was the same people.
We thought that was a little peculiar, so we started digging and discovered that not only had those people challenged scientific evidence of ozone depletion but also acid rain. Also in the big 5 was that they had denied evidence on the harmfulness of tobacco. When we found that link to the tobacco industry, which as most people know was convicted of criminal conspiracy to commit fraud against the American people, we thought that was an important story so we started digging and that’s what led to the book. [Here is a video of a talk Naomi gave around the time of the book’s publication]
The book’s subtitle is ‘How a Handful of Scientists Obscured the Truth on Issues from Tobacco to Global Warming’ but to what extent can those people truly be called scientists? Where does the distinction lie between a scientist and a pseudo-scientist?
This was one of the really difficult things about this book, and about how to tell the story. It’s the same thing that makes it difficult to deal with. These people were scientists in a sense that they had PhDs in science, they had published scientific research, they had prominent positions of power and influence in the American scientific community. But they were not experts about climate change.
One of the things we say in the book is that this is part of the reason they were able to fool so many people. They drew on their scientific credibility to make claims that the people and the press found credible. This is the part of the book where we really do fault the press. In most cases, the press never pointed out that these people were actually all-purpose contrarians, that they really didn’t have expertise on climate change or tobacco and that they were really exploiting their scientific credentials in a way that was quite misleading, in a way that was merchandising doubt.
It helps to explain why it worked because it’s a subtle point. If it were really coarse and really crude, if these guys were just shills for the coal industry and were on the payroll of the coal industry, you could have pointed that out and everyone would have said “oh well, obviously”. But this is much more subtle and therefore a much more pernicious thing.
How can people spot this? What are the fingerprints? When you open the newspaper and read a story questioning some aspect of climate change what are the fingerprints to look for?
There are a few things to look for. One of the things I’ve noticed is very often journalists will write a story in which they’ll say “the majority of scientists say the globe is warming up” or “the IPCC says…” or the National Research Council or the Royal Society, they’ll identify who it is who holds this dominant position. But then they’ll say “however, some experts”, and very often those “some experts” are not actually identified. We’re not told who they are so that should be a red flag from the start.
“However some experts” should also be a red flag, because then the question should be raised, “well how many experts exactly?” Are we talking 49% of the scientific community, is there a really big split among scientists, or are we talking about a handful of doubters? Very often they are talking about the handful of doubters. If you see an article in which it’s not made clear who these people are or how many of them there are, that should be grounds for suspicion.
From the point of view of the journalist, journalists have asked me so many times – what should we do? That’s always a tricky question for me because I feel like saying “you guys need to figure this out, you guys need to ask yourselves that question”. One thing that all journalists could and should do is just to ask some really basic questions up front from anyone who’s presenting themselves as an expert.
That is to say “what’s your PHD in?” “What have you published on this particular topic under discussion right now?” “Are you receiving funds from a third party with a vested interest?” Because if you were to ask those basic questions of the scientists, it turns out that Fred Seitz was receiving a lot of money from the tobacco industry. I don’t think he was doing it for the money. I think ideological and egotistical reasons played a bigger role in his own personal motivation. But the fact that he was being paid by the tobacco industry was a relevant piece of information.
The fact that his PhD was in solid states physics was a relevant piece of information. The fact that he’d never published a peer-reviewed scientific article on climate change, to me that’s the most relevant of all. If journalists would just ask those three basic questions, they would realise very quickly who are the real experts and who are the doubt-mongers.
In an interview online that you have with sceptic Nick Minchin, you suggest he untangles the discussions about his responses on how to run an economy etc. from arguing about the science. While historically the sceptics you write about have had an impact, so have a number of independent bloggers, tweeters and so on. Where are they coming from?
It’s becoming a complicated social phenomenon. It isn’t just one thing. The story we were telling in ‘Merchants of Doubt’ was essentially an origins story. We wanted to know where all this had come from in the first place and we were able to track it back. Every story has a beginning, and we were able to show that this story begins with the George C Marshall Institute in 1989, where they first shift their attention away from Cold War issues, having to do with national security, and onto environmental issues. That’s the origins part of the story.
Since then of course it’s spread like a kind of disease. Nick is an interesting case in point because to me he was a kind of ‘Exhibit A’ of exactly the type of thing we talk about at the end of the book, namely that The Merchants of Doubt conflated two very different problems. First is the factual scientific problem of whether climate change is happening and caused by human activities, and the second is the problem of what to do about it. These are two very different things.
Nick Minchin is just like the Merchants of Doubt we studied, because the reason he rejects the science is because he doesn’t want to do what he thinks will be required to do if climate change is true. Let me say that again: If climate change is true then there are certain things we may have to do. Nick doesn’t like those things.
He doesn’t want the government to intervene in the marketplace through a carbon tax or an emissions trading system, or whatever else it might do. And because he doesn’t like the implications of the truth, he denies and rejects the truth and finds reasons to question it. We call that ‘implicatory denial’. We’re in denial because we don’t like the implications of the truth.
Nick is a perfect example of this because he’s a nice guy, he was fun to talk to, and when you really press him on it he actually admits that this is the case. I was upset with that ABC programme because we had this great exchange in which I said to Nick “you’re confusing two related but different things” and he actually said that that was true, he said that yes, he didn’t want the government to get involved in a big intervention in the marketplace.
So I said “well that’s fine, and that’s what we should be talking about, about how to solve this problem without taking away everyone’s personal freedoms”. It was a really great truthful, honest moment and of course the ABC didn’t use that in the film. That tells you something about what the press’s orientation on this issue is, at least in some cases.
There are some who argue, like Stuart Brand and Mark Lynas, that if the science on climate change is right then we should also therefore accept genetically modified food, nuclear power, geoengineering. What’s your sense of other lenses that we can look through such issues with beyond just the fact of scientifically establishing whether they work or not?
There are two question there. The first is – should we look at this problem through other lenses? The answer to that is of course absolutely yes, and this is the most important thing of all, we need to stop arguing about whether climate change is happening. That shift is underway, but the problem is it’s been underway for 20 years and we keep slipping back.
But we need to shift the focus from the problem to the solution. There’s no question in my mind that that’s true. The extent to which people like the ones you mentioned, Stuart Brand and Mark Lynas are provoking us to discuss the solutions, that’s a very good thing and they’ve made a positive contribution.
On the other hand, I think to jump to the conclusion that the solution is nuclear power or genetically modified crops is, let’s just say, not supported by the evidence. One of the things about climate change and fossil fuels is that energy derived from fossil fuels was a super great technology and nobody expected it to do the damage that it’s ended up doing. One of the things we know about technology is that it’s almost always a two-edged sword. It does some things for us very well but it often creates other different problems.
I feel like if there’s any lesson from the history of technology it’s that. So anyone who thinks that nuclear power or genetically modified crops will solve this problem, it seems to me has only got one eye open. That’s what we talk about at the end of The Merchants of Doubt. We talk about this phenomenon which we call ‘techno-fideism’, faith in technology.
The Merchants of Doubt had that too. Their whole argument was the government didn’t need to do anything about climate change because markets would provide the technologies we needed. Bill Nierenberg made that argument explicitly in 1983, so that’s 31 years ago! Well here we are 30 years later, climate change is underway, we’re seeing the impact all around us and yet we still haven’t seen a strong market response and we’re still seeing the use and production of fossil fuels increasing rather than decreasing. So we know that the marketplace, left to its own devices, isn’t solving this problem for us spontaneously.
But now the question comes – should the government support nuclear power? Well, there’s a lot of problems with nuclear power. There have been a lot of extreme difficulties, including the very high cost of it. To say that this is going to solve our problems without engaging in a serious discussion about why nuclear power has not succeeded so far, that’s, as I said, discussing the issue with one eye closed.
What does this conversation really look like when you open your eyes wide open, both eyes, and you don’t succumb to techno-fideism but ask yourself a serious, honest question: “what do we know from history about the successes and failures of large-scale technological systems, and can we learn any lessons from that?”
The answer is yes, and it strongly suggests we will not solve this problem with some kind of massive reliance on nuclear power. Possibly modest reliance in certain cases, almost certainly not with large-scale reliance without serious costs.
One more thing about genetically modified crops. Again there’s no question in my mind that genetically modified crops could be useful for certain kinds of things. But the idea that they will solve this problem is naïve and ignorant in the extreme. Because look at the Green Revolution. The Green Revolution was supposed to be the fantastic application of technology to solving a major human problem. And what happened?
Well it definitely helped. There was definitely very significant progress and we don’t want to downplay the progress that was made. But where are we today? Well 2 billion people on this planet are still hungry and they’re not hungry because we don’t have enough food. They’re hungry because we don’t know how to distribute and store and get food to the people who need it. That’s not a problem of technology. That’s a problem of human institutions.
The techno-fideists focus far too much on the hardware and not nearly enough on what we could call the software technology. I don’t mean this in a literal sense, but software in the sense of support systems, distribution systems, the forms of governance that are needed to get food to people where they are without it being diverted. Even Norman Borlaug who was considered the father of the Green Revolution, said at the end of his life that he had overestimated the role of technology and underestimated the role of all these other social, institutional and cultural factors.
So is there a place for genetically modified crops? Probably. Is it going to be a magic bullet , a solution to this problem? I don’t think so.
You paint a picture of very influential people, very highly connected, very well resourced with credible scientific qualifications, with the ear of many powerful people. How on earth can we combat that?
One thing we can do is expose it, because when people see it for what it is they get it. People aren’t idiots, but we get confused and we get misled, especially when people are trying to confuse and mislead us. So number one is exposing it and that was of course what Eric and I were trying to do in the book, and we’re very gratified it’s received the reception it has.
I think the second thing is what you just suggested. To shift the conversation to the solutions and say “this is a very difficult, very challenging problem, but it’s not insoluble”. There are people who want you to think it’s insoluble for reasons of their own. There are also people who want you to think there’s an easy solution for reasons of their own. I think we want to resist both these impulses and say “it’s not easy but it’s not impossible”.
What does that look like? Conversation has not really begun in a serious way. There are places happening here and there, but a serious sustained discussion about solutions, we really need to have that conversation.
There are the people you talk about in the book and the Heartland Institute and these very well-backed, very vocal and influential climate sceptics. But I’m sure that you probably, like me, on Twitter and so on, get people who are armchair climate sceptics who do much the same job but presumably in an un-funded amateur capacity and they can be quite poisonous as Michael Mann and others experiences on a daily basis and quite possibly you do too. Where are those people coming from?
Quite right. What has happened is this has spread like a kind of disease, and like any disease that’s now spread, it’s much harder to contain. This is one reason why deep in my heart I feel anger towards people like Bill Nierenberg and Fred Seitz because they started a kind of epidemic and now it’s out of control.
You’re absolutely right, all over the internet, Twitter, in the blogosphere there are all kinds of people, many of them are amateurs, self-motivated armchair climate change deniers. But one thing they all have in common is that in a sense they’re all like Nick Minchin. They don’t want climate change to be real because they don’t want to be told that they have to change the way they live. So there’s no accident that climate change denial is much more rampant in the United States than anywhere else in the world.
Americans use more energy and are more consumptive of material resources than anyone else in the world and by a lot. The average American uses 4 times as much energy as the average French person. It’s not just that we use more than impoverished Bangladeshis, it’s that we use more even than our fellow citizens in the advanced, industrialised wealthy nations of the world.
Climate change is a problem that seems to suggest that there’s something wrong with the American way of life. People don’t like that suggestion, especially Americans! Americans live by the belief in American exceptionism, that this is in a way an ideal and wonderful country. I travel a lot and America is a great country. There are many things about this country that are great. I’ve lived in other places and I came back because at the end of the day, life in America is really good.
But there’s this sort of soft underbody of American life and it’s the consumption problem. A lot of people don’t want to admit that. They don’t want to talk about it. So when they hear or read the allegation that climate change is some kind of left-wing hoax, some kind of liberal or even socialist or communist hoax, that appeals to them and so they go looking for arguments that support their inclination to disbelieve in any way, so there’s a lot of confirmation bias. There’s confirmation bias on both sides of course, but one side has the scientific facts and the other side doesn’t.
The above was edited from the full interview, which can be heard below:
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1 Jul 2014
Here’s a lovely piece by Ian Wild, a celebration of a project very close to my heart…
Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?
Or may we cram within this wooden O
the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt?
Around the turn of the millennium, my wife Belinda was invited to run a theatre course for adults at Kinsale College. John Thuillier, the then Principal, was an educational visionary who had already set up the best Outdoor Education Course in the country and an arts faculty that was refreshing and different. We were allowed to design a fun, exciting and practical training where students could experiment with acting in a free and uninhibited way. It was quite unlike any other professional drama training in Ireland or any of the headbound University courses.
One early difficulty for the course though, was a theatre. We didn’t have one. Though, back then, we had three light and airy rooms for rehearsals, when it came to performing our productions, we had to move house – pack everything into a lorry and tumble into the Town Hall, or a venue in Cork. Building our own theatre, never seemed an option. Who thinks like that? Well, Rob Hopkins did, fortunately for us.
Once a drama training had been established, a permaculture course was next to take root in Kinsale college. As it was the only such course on the planet, people came from all over the wide world to join it. The numbers overwhelmed. Permaculture aims to create a more sustainable way of living with the earth. It emphasises the provision of local needs with the least destruction to the world and its resources possible.
Rob Hopkins, (leader of the course) was interested in his students serving the college community and asked Belinda what the drama course needed. Only a theatre, she said. And so the idea of a mini-Shakespeare’s Globe, made from natural building materials and sitting in the grounds of Kinsale College, was born. Rob and Belinda were, of course, both quite mad.
Why the Globe? Partly because the sort of natural building techniques that the Permaculture students were using were common in Shakespeare’s day, and also because Belinda has this slight infatuation with a man from Stratford – though not the Shakespeare of set texts in the junior and leaving certs. There is a very different Shakespeare to that ghastly fellow, and people mostly love him when they meet him. Although Belinda was interested in all aspects of theatre, mime, clowning, tragedy, masks – she had just been to see the Globe in London and was fired up about creating a smaller version on the college grounds with Rob and the permaculture hordes.
And so, with plans drawn (literally) on the back of an envelope, Rob set to work with a team of Permies (as they were affectionately known) and in a matter of months raised an odd-looking, but strangely attractive stage (a theatre that Bilbo Baggins might act on and not seem out of place). It was made out of cob (straw and mud) with wood frames.
Colossal cedar beams held up the turf roof. With a view to practicality, I was at first perturbed at my wife’s eagerness to stage a large end-of-term play in a theatre so completely open to the elements. Any actor, stepping onto the apron of the stage in a downpour would have been immediately drenched. And as for the audience … well, there were no walls and no roof for the groundlings, or any spectator. There were benches in a semi-circle that formed, with the rest of the theatre, a large ‘O’.
But protection from the ravages of nature? There was none. And in Ireland, if I might import a quote, ‘the rain it raineth every day’. Or at least, sometimes it seems so. For some reason, this didn’t seem to overly concern Rob or Belinda. Faith, I dare say, wears no mackintosh.
It was however, a tremendous achievement to get a performance space ready for the end of term play, the Merry Wives of Windsor. We rehearsed in this open air arena, like ancient Greeks but without their blue skies and dusty olive groves. It wasn’t until the show went on that I realised that the amphitheatre was something out of the ordinary. The play electrified the audience. Of course, it is a great play, and the actors excelled. But there was more to it than that.
The space had a magic that modern theatres entirely lack. The Globe and all early Elizabethan theatres, were designed to maximize contact with the audience: to connect with playgoers in as direct a way as possible. A modern theatre seeks to distance the audience from the actors. In Kinsale amphitheatre, the audience are in the play. Not in a way that will discomfort or embarrass them. In a way that will enchant and enthral.
That first spring – in early May, the weather held all week. The air was a little refrigerated. I was playing mandolin in musical accompaniment to the play and my fingers once went a funny blue colour. It was something though, to watch Falstaff’s antics with an awareness of a starry infinity overhead. We all realised, the permaculture students had raised something rare and unique. [Here‘s a piece from RTE Television at the time]
Alas, Rob Hopkins left for England before the amphitheatre went much further. But not before starting the Transition Town movement (now an international phenomenon) in Kinsale, from the college. The baton was taken up by lecturer Graham Strouts, with assistance from Paul O’Flynn, and gradually, year on year, the amphitheatre has been improved and enlarged by diligent permaculture students. Walls grew and backs appeared for the benches. But most difficult of all, was the provision of a roof for the audience. We knew our meteorological luck couldn’t hold out forever; but how could we prop up canopy across the wide auditorium?
Nobody wanted great pillars obscuring the spectacle of a play. Eventually, Christie Collard from Future Forests arrived and designed a reciprocal roof: impossible Escher-like cross struts which suspended a roof above the audience like a conjuring trick. Christie’s experience with natural building, meant that he shaped structures entirely in keeping with the beautiful and idiosyncratic appearance of the theatre. Travel where you will, there is nothing like it. It is pretty and unusual as Elizabethan architecture was, because, as with buildings constructed back then, the amphitheatre has grown organically.
Instead of the prefabricated square and rectangular monstrosities that modern architects inflict upon the landscape, this wooden O is human. The grass roof is a little prairie on the house. Throughout, the theatre is an arcadia of trunks and beams. The place seems to have a sense of humour and is full of inbuilt jokes, the windows being made from recycled portholes of washing machines. In a world that is becoming increasingly regulated and conformist, it is part throwback, partly a dream of the future. One could almost say, the amphitheatre is a physical embodiment of the spirit of the drama course it serves. Always growing, always different, always human, busily creative and comedic.
For many years, hardened amphitheatre devotees sat on hard seats and braved the chill of evenings in early May by arriving with cushions and even sleeping bags. Those days, for good and bad, are pretty much gone. The Auditorium is soon to get a thorough draughtproofing and stuffed seats. It’s not centrally heated, but on a May evening, there is no longer any danger of blue fingers or toes. I like to think that it’s the sort of place Shakespeare’s ghost visits now and then. Arriving unseen through the thick walls, seating himself at the back and enjoying plays – all manner of plays – even his own, in one of the most intimate and thrilling auditoriums a person could ever visit.
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1 Jul 2014
As someone who visits quite a lot of Transition groups, I see the same thing over and over. People say “we don’t feel like we are making much of a difference, we’ve not done much”. I then ask them to tell me the story of what they’ve done so far, and 20 minutes later people tend to be feeling rather pleased with themselves. We need to celebrate more! Take a breath and pat ourselves on the back! It’s not hard, in fact it’s wonderful. The key thing is remembering to do it.
This month our theme is Celebration and Transition. It’s no accident that it comes immediately before August, which is traditionally our month on ‘The Power of Not Doing Stuff’, where this site puts its feet up and tries to model the importance, on occasion, of taking time out and being rather than doing. I was in Lewes a couple of weeks ago for Transition Town Lewes‘ Seven Year Itch celebration. It’s seven years since their Unleashing, and so to celebrate it, they threw a big party. It was fantastic.
I get the impression Transition Town Lewes are quite good at celebrating. It comes quite easily to them. It’s not always like that. I also get the impression that Transition initiatives often don’t do celebration for a few different reasons:
- That it feels rather trivial compared to the work of actually getting on and making stuff happen
- We don’t have very much time even for doing all the things on our ‘To Do’ lists, so finding time to celebrate? Forget it!
- Our attention is always on the future and the sheer bloody enormity of what we’re trying to do here
- The culture around us isn’t good at celebrating everyday achievements, and often pausing to reflect on things leads to the opportunity to criticise and blame, so it’s easier just to keep going
- “It’s just another thing to organise”
I’m sure there are others too. You might like to share yours below. However, it’s a sure recipe for burnout and exhaustion. So, back to Lewes. Their Seven Year Itch was a great event. It was hosted in a rather funky arts centre in an old industrial unit called Zu, and it made me think of the following 10 key ingredients for a good celebration:
1. The invitation
The invitation needs to be clear and celebratory. People need to know it will a fun occasion, what will be happening, and what’s being celebrated. The Lewes event made it pretty clear, as did the tagline on the great poster (see right), “Come and celebrate seven years of making global issues local”.
Given that you are celebrating what has been created by so many people, do as much as you can to invite them personally. Be colourful, bold and inviting. This is your party after all.
2. Food and drink
It’s a celebration, and celebrations need refreshment. The Lewes event featured food and drink that celebrated Lewes: beer from the local celebrated Harveys Brewery, local wines, elderflower champagne, food made by a local cafe, and pizzas made out the back from a wood fired pizza oven. Not a sausage on a stick in sight. Feast well.
3. A capturing of what’s being celebrated
It’s really important to name the things that are being celebrated. What has the group done? Not just the big things but also the smaller things too. Here’s the chart that Transition Town Lewes created for the event:
Then there was the great exercise that Transition Ferrara in Italy did for their third birthday event, where they had written a card for each event or project they had done, and these were clipped onto a washing line in chronological order which was then passed around the room, until everyone had tied themselves in knots, and remembered the huge diversity of stuff they had done.
Or you could, like we did at, I think, Transition Town Totnes’ 5th birthday celebration day, actually tell the story from scratch. Lay out a long piece of paper with dates on it, from the day you started until now, and invite people to fill in events they can remember (see pic below). It’s a process that can lead to a lot of laughter and remembering. In all these 3 different approaches, it’s also good to not gloss over the things that didn’t work so well, but to honour them as well.
4. A look forward
This celebration is not the end of the whole thing, merely a pausing point. Where might the group go next? While a celebration might not be the best time for an in-depth strategic look forward and planning of work and projects for the next 10 years, there are fun ways to do this. In Lewes, we played a Transition version of Pictionary (sort of). Three artistic members of the group stood on the stage next to a large wall of paper, while Duncan Law (of Transition Town Brixton) and I hosted. We had 8 or so large cards, on the back of each was a word like “energy”, “care and health”, “food” or “livelihoods”.
People were chosen randomly from the audience to pick a card, and then the audience were invited to shout out things they’d like to see in Lewes, while the artists drew them on the wall. After 10 minutes of laughter, shouting, silly and serious ideas, and lots of drawing, enough ideas were gathered to give a sense of where the future might take Transition Town Lewes. Great fun.
5. Keep it changing
At the Lewes event we had a choir, a couple of talks, some poetry, a raffle, more singing, bagpipes, dancing, the opportunity to interact with Transition Town Lewes projects, mention of the campaign for a community take-over of the site we were on, food, drink. The evening really benefitted from the “what happens next?” kind of spirit.
I remember the Unleashing of Transition Malvern Hills being similarly eclectic. First a bit of this, then a bit of that…
6. Dancing
A good celebration really benefits from the opportunity to have a good dance. In the Lewes event, Sacre Vert (see above), whose eclectic music and mad group dancing always leave everyone in a sweaty blather with big grins on their faces, having also briefly met and interacted with most of the people in the room. The perfect, and riotous, way to wrap up a good celebration.
The celebration that followed the talk I gave in Liege recently featured a rather different soundtrack, as captured in this short video of the event:
7. A sense of context
No Transition initiative works in isolation. During its lifetime it will almost certainly have worked with other local groups, organisations and projects. Invite them along! Invite them to have stalls, whatever they like. Celebrate the web of connections and relationships you’ve created and the sum total of what you have produced between yourselves.
To the right is a poster we created for an event to celebrate where we had got to with the Atmos Totnes project, which explicitly thanked all the people who had contributed to our getting to where we had got to.
8. Document it!
The only regret I have of my own wedding is that I didn’t really have anyone really documenting it, with photos or video or something. Such a rare occasion to have so many people you love in one place, and most likely will never happen again, so to have only a few photos of it feels a shame. Likewise with your celebration. Have someone there to take photos, or video, or to document it in some way or other. You’ll be glad subsequently that you did. The ever-wonderful Mike Grenville documented the Lewes event for them. And they wrote the whole evening up beautifully on their website.
9. No graphs!
By all means have someone along to give a talk, but keep it upbeat and positive. I spoke at the Lewes event, and tried hard to create something that would fit into a celebration. The first part of the talk drew on all the things that Lewes and Totnes have in common which went down very well. On their website, TTL noted one of the similarities:
…we got a whistle-stop tour around the greater and lesser-known similarities between Lewes and Totnes. Did you know both towns are exactly 6 miles from the sea? Thanks Rob, neither did we.)
Pleasure. Keep the energy up. It’s a celebration, remember?!
10. “Why are we doing this again?”
One of the hazards of doing doing doing without any reflecting is that we can sometimes lose sight of why we even started doing this stuff in the first place. It’s just what we do, but why? And do the reasons we started doing it still bear any relation to what motivates us now? When I was there, I asked people involved in TTL why it is that they do Transition. Here’s what they had to say. It’s good to hear each other say this stuff sometimes.
***
Of course there’s no reason why celebration should be confined to just one-off events like this. They can be part of your regular life as a group. Why not design in a standing item every time you meet to ask “does anyone have anything they feel we need to celebrate?” Why not, on a regular basis, have a time in your meetings for appreciations? Asking if there is anything anyone would like to appreciate that someone in the group has done, is doing, or brings to the process? In terms of the role food can have in celebrations, it could even be something as simple as, as we heard from Peter MacFadyen last month, the Chairperson of the meeting baking biscuits for the meeting.
We hope you enjoy the month, and we’d love to hear your stories of what celebration looks like in your initiative.
Thanks to Mike Grenville for most of the photos used above.
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30 Jun 2014
The Transition movement sometimes claims to be apolitical, but I think that politics can be defined as any issue in which there is a conflict of resources, and a decision to be made on how to allocate them. Although Transition isn’t party political, it’s a global social movement that seeks to create massive social and economic change. We’re positioning ourselves as an alternative to a failing political, social and economic system and rejecting the ability of those currently holding power (the capacity or ability to direct or influence the behaviour of others or the course of events) to do what is necessary to save our planet. If that isn’t political, I don’t know what is!
I don’t feel that steering clear of alignment with political parties and election makes Transition non-political. It feels similar to me to autonomous or community anarchism, which propose to build an old world in the shell of the new. Generally this refers to the process of creating alternative and autonomous structures of direct democracy, ready to step in when the old world of capitalism and the structures of the state crumble.
Transition’s central aims are environmental ones, but they also rely on a ‘crisis’ to interrupt the old economic structures and make a change to the new world – in this case created by Transition – inevitable. Of course we hope that the process of change will be a positive one, and that we move into a hopeful new future with ‘resilient’ local structures in place to ensure we still have food, energy and everything else we truly need.
But there is a gap here. Economic crises, as we have seen in the last few years, do not necessarily bring the current system crashing down. Economic systems frequently reinvent themselves, becoming harsher, even less equal as those who control fiscal and monetary policy and banking find new ways to deal with capitalism’s regular crises. Although many of us assume that the multiple crises brought about by climate change will result in a substantially different economy in the long term, this may not be the case.
Transition is not simply an environmental organisation that aims to enable communities to treat our planet more gently, but a multi-faceted movement underpinned by the principles of permaculture – ‘Earth care, people care and fair shares’ – principles that encompass our economic and educational systems, how we live and our social relationships.
In several cities in the UK, Transition initiatives have set up currencies, in others co-housing projects, and in many, social enterprises and community-owned businesses. This is a real life movement, already creating alternative structures that co-exist alongside mainstream economic and social ways of doing things.
In the political sphere, the Transition Network lobbies national governments to change and enable environmentally progressive projects. And, quite sensibly, many local Transition initiatives have a relationship with councils and other local government institutions that can be a helpful enabling force in realizing and event funding our projects. In recent years some Transitioners have sought election to local government in order to enact greener policies.
So is the right thing to do, to continue this, perhaps even to align with the political party that most shares our values – the Greens? Personally, I don’t think so – a strength of Transition is that it is non-party political, with the possibility of engaging those from a variety of political backgrounds, and those who distrust mainstream politics (I don’t necessarily think we are succeeding at doing this already, but the potential is there).
But we do, I believe, need a clear discussion about what the Transition project seeks to achieve. Are we content with the status quo, just more ecologically sustainable? Recent history has demonstrated that power does not disappear or dissolve, and those who hold it do not easily let go. Our structures of governance tend to resist becoming more directly democratic – they only do so when fought for.
Our current economic model is based on the concept of infinite growth, absorbing and co-opting anything that challenges it. Businesses and governments are perhaps able to adopt the models of sustainability (renewable energy, local and organic agriculture, different models of transport etc.) that Transition develops, but not the whole picture we hope to achieve. It is difficult for example, to see how the ‘Gift Economy’ can become central and permanent (and not just a temporary reaction to economic downturn, or a pleasant sideline to the ‘real’ economy), without a challenge to existing power structures.
Some of what Transition is suggesting and the models we are building can be absorbed into the current economic and social way of doing things. The parts that cannot are most likely the ‘people care’ and ‘fair shares’ parts of the permaculture model. In order to combat this, I believe that Transition requires an analysis of power, and an honest discussion about what we can and hope to achieve.
Sara Ayech is the co-ordinator of Transition Dartmouth Park in London, and is a Social Reporter (among other things!).
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28 Jun 2014
What would you say were the defining characteristics of Labour politics in relation to sustainability and climate change?
The challenges of protecting our natural environment and dealing with a changing climate are immense. When it comes to government, actions speak louder than words – and Labour has a good record on protecting our natural environment, and opening it up for the public to enjoy. The Attlee Government legislated for our first national parks, nature reserves and Sites of Specific Scientific Interest (SSSI). The last Labour Government creating two more national parks in the New Forest and South Downs. We established the right to roam, and gave better protection to wildlife.
We doubled the amount of electricity we generated from renewable sources, passed the Climate Change Act – a world first – and established the UK as a world leader in offshore wind and carbon capture and storage. If we’re elected next year we’ve said we will set a target to decarbonise our power supply by 2030, support the expansion of low-carbon energy such as renewables, nuclear and carbon capture and storage, and increase our ambition on energy efficiency.
Labour’s position, as I understand it, is currently in favour of fracking. Is fracking really a defensible approach in the context of the urgent need to drive down emissions?
There are important regulatory questions which must be answered before large-scale extraction can begin. Tory ministers have chosen to ignore legitimate environmental concerns rather than address them and provide safeguards for communities. Only by fully addressing legitimate environmental and safety concerns about fracking with robust regulation, comprehensive monitoring and strict enforcement will people have confidence that the exploration and possible extraction of shale gas is a safe and reliable source that can contribute to the UK’s energy mix.
In March 2012 Labour set out six environmental conditions for the shale gas regulatory regime. The Government has conceded on 4 of the 6 points. They have not included the baseline survey of methane being assessed prior to drilling, and they have not specified that the monitoring activity should take place over a 12 month period. Many other concerns remain, particularly regarding the effectiveness of the monitoring process and the capacity of the relevant bodies to undertake that monitoring.
If it can be developed safely, shale gas is likely to be used in our energy mix in two important ways. Firstly, in heating our homes. 80% of homes in the UK rely on gas for their heating and this is likely to be the case for many years to come. Secondly, for electricity generation. As a party, we’re committed to decarbonising the power supply by 2030 in order to keep on course to meet the target of reducing CO2 emissions by 80% by 2050.
In practice, that means we will need to bring forward substantial investment in low-carbon electricity generation, including renewables, carbon capture and storage and nuclear. However, within this legally binding framework, there will still be a place for gas – at the very least as back-up generation to manage the intermittency of energy sources like wind and solar, which do not generate all the time and which can see quite dramatic changes in their output in a very short space of time.
For this reason, fracking is unlikely to lead to an increase in the total amount of fossil fuel burnt for electricity for generation; it will simply mean more of the gas we do use is produced in this country, rather than overseas. The independent Committee on Climate Change, which is responsible for advising Parliament on how we meet our carbon emissions reduction targets, has also said that shale gas can be developed within our climate targets.
Do you see any incompatability between economic growth and tackling climate change on the scale required? Do you see any evidence from anywhere in the world that has successfully decoupled growth and emissions?
On the one side are those who argue that Government-led action on climate change is a threat to growth – an unnecessary burden on business – a lead weight around the neck of UK plc. That view says that economic growth is not possible if we tackle climate change. The likes of the present Chancellor not only believe that the green agenda is bad for business, bad for jobs and bad for growth, but actively revel in their contempt for environmental protection. According to this view, environmental policies are a luxury that can only ever be afforded when times are good. It is an argument, I believe we should firmly reject.
On the other side, there is the view that all economic growth threatens to deplete the world of resources; that the need to protect the planet means that advanced societies should break with their addiction to the motor car; end holidays abroad; and focus on quality of life rather than material consumption. The West, they believe should accept a lower standard of living in the interests of the planet. Both views share one central premise – that economic growth and environmental sustainability are inherently irreconcilable. One forsakes the environmental policies; the other forsakes the growth. I reject both arguments.
History shows us that only economic growth spreads wealth and prosperity and with it the means to reduce poverty and civilise societies. There is a path between untrammelled growth at all costs; and a zero growth world. We can grow our economy and benefit the planet; we can provide for our citizens and meet their aspirations without ruining our planet. It is not a zero sum game.
The current government has published a Community Energy Strategy. How important do you see community renewable energy schemes as being, and what would a Labour government do to support and enable it?
As a new energy industrial revolution unfolds, future technologies, sources of renewable and low carbon energy and their application offer more scope than ever to challenge the existing market, reshape relationships and create new agents of delivery. This is not to underestimate, or be naive, about our energy requirements and the role of large scale energy generation and delivery. Nor is it to ignore nuclear and the important role it can play in meeting Labour’s Climate Change targets, set out in the 2008 Climate Change Act, accepted by the Coalition Government.
However we cannot neglect the potential for individuals and communities to create and save energy. In truth there are plenty of examples both here and abroad which demonstrate the potential of community energy as a low carbon driver. Important as that is, it is equally about empowering people to take more control over their use of energy and at what price.
Do you see climate scepticism as a growing or a declining force within Westminster?
Labour has always warned that climate change threatens national security because of the consequences for destabilisation of entire regions of the world, mass migration of millions of people and conflict over water or food supplies. The flooding earlier this year showed that this is a national security issue in our own country too with people’s homes, businesses and livelihoods under attack from extreme weather. Because of political division in Westminster we are sleepwalking into a national security crisis on climate change. The science hasn’t changed, and recent events here at home and overseas should serve as a wake-up call for us all. The climate change consensus that once existed has frayed. Labour stands ready to work with good people from all parties to do what is necessary.
From your perspective, is the challenge of staying below 2 degrees best served by being in or out of Europe?
There is no doubt that Europe does now face a significant reform ‘moment’ that must be seized, and that Europe has to be made to work better for Britain. But our interests, including on the environment, are undoubtedly better served by staying in the European Union. Lots of the problems we face do not respect national borders – so to reduce our carbon emissions and prevent dangerous climate change, we need to see co-ordinated action between different countries. Being in the EU helps us to do that and it gives us greater clout when it comes to international negotiations with the rest of the world.
The Conservatives are planning to introduce a policy to ban all onshore wind turbines if it wins the next election. What would Labour do?
I don’t believe in setting arbitrary caps for the cheapest and most developed form of renewable electricity – and the next Labour Government will give onshore wind the support it deserves.
If you are elected, and end up representing the UK at COP21 in Paris next December, what can community groups, such as Transition, do to best support you as Environment Minister, and to help you feel empowered to take bold and meaningful action?
Government can lead the effort, but all of us – business, trade unions, councils, civil society, communities, families and individuals – must work together to imagine and build the country we want and the kind of planet we want to live on. Civil society can help lift the ambitions of politicians and Governments. Each one of us has a part to play, and only by uniting will we realise those ambitions.
Caroline Flint is Labour MP for the Don Valley, and Shadow Secretary of State for Energy and Climate Change.
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It’s becoming a complicated social phenomenon. It isn’t just one thing. The story we were telling in ‘Merchants of Doubt’ was essentially an origins story. We wanted to know where all this had come from in the first place and we were able to track it back. Every story has a beginning, and we were able to show that this story begins with the George C Marshall Institute in 1989, where they first shift their attention away from Cold War issues, having to do with national security, and onto environmental issues. That’s the origins part of the story. 
