Leverage Point #3: The goals of the system

 

Civil society members are typically given short, symbolic, 2-minute speeches throughout all of a negotiating session. Sometimes, this one allocation for all of civil society creates tensions as to which individual or organization is selected to speak on behalf of all of us. Photo credit: SustainUS (sustainus.org)

I have been thinking a lot about ego lately.

It has been remarkable to think about how many times ego has been brought up in my interviews. I typically ask my subjects to provide me with an example of both a policy or campaign failure and success – and it’s been striking to see ego come up in their examples.

Fatima, a campaigner with Avaaz, recalled a successful campaign lobbying the UK government to back away from a plan to remove climate change from the country’s mandatory education curriculum. She mentioned that part of the reason she believed the campaign succeeded was because NGOs worked together to form a coalition. In other words, each campaigner checked their personal egos at the door, willing to forego their own organizational talking points with the goal of working toward a shared goal.

We don’t often speak about egos at COP, or within climate organizing at large, but being at the UNFCCC this week has made me more aware of its existence. Oftentimes, we – myself included! – get so caught up in our individual priorities and in the limelight that we forget to create space for others to receive the spotlight. Most importantly, we can forget to collaborate.

I’ve seen ego creep up a lot this week. There have been conversations about which individual representing which organization gets to deliver the civil society speech to environment ministers, or who gets to ask the question of the famous government leader coming to town. It is maddening to see personal and organizational interest get in the way of the common cause we are all here to fight.

I recognize how important it is for marginalized and front line communities to be represented in these discussions – this in no way targets them, but rather targets the (mostly White, mostly middle-aged, mostly male) campaigners who immediately offer to take on a public speaking opportunity without considering who else is in the room.

Ego is definitely not the only problem to solving climate change – in fact, it is nowhere close to being the biggest one, either – but I wonder if being more conscious of our egos could help us better work together. I myself have been trying to personally recognize situations in which I might be letting my personal feelings get in the way of working with others, and am trying to support as many people as I can while I’m here (although I acknowledge that I am in no way perfect).

With one week left of COP21, I wonder if we can put our differences aside to work together.

Leverage Point #5: The rules of the system (such as incentives, punishment, constraints)

Leverage Point #4: The power to add, change, evolve, or self-organize system structure

Leverage Point #3: The goals of the system

 

The gigantic conference center for COP21, also known as “Le Bourget”

I have been to nine UN conferences relating to climate change. COP21 is my fourth such Conference of the Parties (the annual jargon-filled UN Framework Convention on Climate Change conference we have all come to know and love). Every year, I feel more and more like I both know this process inside out, and more and more like I am completely unprepared to be here. It is a tough two weeks (or more, if talks go into overtime) – I feel like I will never be able to fully grasp what is going on here.

The realization that I will never be prepared for COP is quite concerning: I am a student with quite extensive research experience with climate change. I am a COP veteran, in some sense. I spend months before COP planning, reading and re-reading draft negotiation texts. I am here as part of a team of incredibly brilliant young people. If I am not capable of getting a handle on these negotiations, how can we expect negotiators from poor and developing countries – country delegations sometimes with only two full delegates at the conference – to be able to have a voice here?

Many of Dana Meadows’ Leverage Points relate to system structure (Leverage Points #6: the structure of information flow; #5: the rules of the system; and #4: the power to add, change, evolve, or self-organize system structure). Within the UNFCCC, I am interested in how the structure of the conference itself – beyond the usual “bad actors” countries – contribute to this process’s failure. Here are some components of flawed system structure I have noticed so far (more to come!):

1. Inaccessibility.

The UNFCCC functions on a ridiculous amount of jargon. There are hundreds of acronyms that are used – it is absolutely absurd. Some NGOs try to help lighten this load by offering “acronym dictionaries” and guides to the negotiations – but this jargon makes it essentially impossible for an engaged citizen to be a part of this process. While I recognize that complexity is necessary for a multilateral process of this scale, the extent to which jargon permeates – I would even argue, encouraged – within COP is excessive. I’ve attached a photo of just one example – for those of you who didn’t already know, MECGCCRPRNF stands for the Ministère de l’Environnement Chargé de la Gestion des Changements Climatiques, du Reboisement et de la Protection des Ressources Naturelles et Forestières (the Republic of Benin’s environmental agency):

2. Stifling of civil society voices.

As members of civil society, we are rarely given the opportunity to speak within the UNFCCC space. We are told that we are capable of voicing dissent or frustration, but only within certain rules (we can only gather in designated areas; we must apply for permission to use said areas at least 24 hours in advance; we may not be overly disruptive; we may not target specific countries or government leaders). This stifling is an example of the third realm of power – wherein a group isn’t directly conscious that power is being exerted upon them. We are told that the

The Fossil of the Day awards, presented by the Climate Action Network, are theatrical award ceremonies that honour the “worst of the worst” of the UN negotiations.

3. Exacerbating existing power structures.

Countries have no limits to the delegations they can bring to COP – so large countries like the US can bring a team of hundreds of people here, while some small island nations can only bring a handful. These disparities in both financial and human resources are significant when realizing that there are often multiple different negotiation sessions happening around the clock at the UNFCCC – so much so that it would be impossible for a small country delegation to effectively represent itself. The UNFCCC process thus reinforces the processes that caused this problem in the first place, with developed countries being overrepresented, and developing countries being overworked.

4. Marginalization of youth.

Where do I even begin? Youth are tokenized and, for all intents and purposes, left out of this process. We are told we can take “selfies” with our Prime Minister, but aren’t allowed to have a formal meeting with him. We are told to Tweet, to use social media, but aren’t given a seat at the table. The system of delegating youth to “observer” roles perpetuates our inability to speak for our generation, and for future generations.

The Canadian Youth Delegation at COP21 handed out these stickers in an effort to voice their concerns without breaking UNFCCC rules when provincial Premiers and Prime Minister Trudeau were speaking in Paris.

Loss and Damage action highlighting the plight of vulnerable countries at COP21. Photo credit: SustainUS (sustainus.org)

I recently interviewed Jamie, a young climate justice organizer currently working on local fracking campaigns in the UK.

He said something that struck me. “We write news articles about the economic argument for climate change, about national security. But what about human suffering? That’s the reason we’re fighting for climate justice. Economic justifications for climate change weren’t what made us organizers care about the problem; why do we think it’ll make the public care?”

I thought a lot about what he said. I agree with him – the low cost of solar panels will not be enough to make me care about climate change. And while these economic and political arguments hold true, they aren’t what motivate any of us community organizers to act on climate change, realistically.

I know why I care about climate change: I am concerned for my future. I recognize that the world is one shared humanity, and that suffering that affects one of us will hurt all of us. My heart aches with the constant reminder of those who suffer from climate change.

On the other hand, though, we are told not to use doomsday rhetoric when organizing. We are told that negative emotions – fear, pain – deter people. We are told they don’t galvanize anyone to our cause, and elicits avoidance. But have economic arguments gotten the public to care about this problem?

One thing is certain – I’m interested in studying this messaging in more depth when I get back from COP. In the meantime, I’m going to test different framing angles for media pieces I’ll be writing at COP – stay tuned!

 

Leverage Point #8: The strength of negative feedback loops, relative to the impacts they are trying to correct against

Leverage Point #7: The gain around driving positive feedback loops

 

SustainUS delegates (and climate justice rockstars) Dyanna and Laura taking some time to laugh at COP yesterday.

I recently had my First Term Review for my Senior Fellowship (proud to say that my fellowship is now approved through the year, B”H!) – in it, I spoke about my research methods, what I’d accomplished so far, and how I intended to interview the activists, scientists, and policymakers I would be meeting.

One question was immediately asked of me by a member of the Faculty Committee: “You’re asking people who work on these issues to identify weaknesses within their work. Don’t you think people will be biased and speak only positively about what they do? How will you account for this overly optimistic view?”

I held back a laugh. The reality of it is, I’ve had the exact opposite problem. Almost all of the climate justice organizers I’ve spoken to had trouble giving me examples of campaign and policy successes. There was never a shortage of failures, though.

It made me realize that we don’t celebrate nearly enough in our movement.

We are quite the misanthropes when it comes to climate change. We tell ourselves that this problem is too urgent, too complex, too heavy. We tell ourselves that there is no time for celebration, no time for congratulations – we must keep moving forward, onward, to the next campaign, to the nest mission requiring our urgent attention.

I agree. I recognize that this problem is so epic – we will never be done working. I know that pats on the back won’t directly solve climate change. But here’s the thing: working on these issues is heartbreaking and, quite frankly, absolutely terrifying.

By dedicating our lives to climate change, we can oftentimes forget to take care of ourselves and of each other – by extension, a part of our planet.

We need to celebrate! We need to rejoice in our successes, acknowledge our efforts, support each other, and – most importantly – we need to remember to feel the deep love we have for the world. We must have the audacity to dream of a better world – and the audacity to love ourselves enough to work toward making it a reality.

Looking at past successful social justice movements, a common thread has been their sense of positivity. The civil rights movement, for example, had a commonly held belief that success was on the horizon. I can’t say the same about the climate justice movement – to be honest, most of us at COP21 are too busy dreading failure.

This needs to stop! We can be successful if we believe that it is possible. We can be successful if we love each other, if we take time away from COP computer screens and sterile conference centers to reconnect with the earth.

We need to celebrate how hard we are working here (even though it never feels like there are enough hours in the day). We need to rejoice in our media hits, our interventions, our actions, hugs, the incredibly awesome movement we are working to build within these halls and back home.

It begins! Thank goodness I have 6-month borrowing privileges..

I’m definitely not the only engaged scholar out there, but there aren’t many researchers who are also members of the communities they are studying. I think about my community organizing as research: which tactics work, and which don’t?

Why are certain things the way they are? Did they always use to be like this?

Where do systems of power lie? How can we elevate marginalized voices?

How did our society come to be based on fossil fuels?

Why haven’t we moved forward to renewable energy sources such as wind and solar?

Organizing is effective when we do our research. Social change can definitely be unpredictable, but we can also certainly learn much from past movements, and their failures and successes.

This week, I am working on my literature review. I don’t know if I can ever finish learning about social movements, climate science, or renewable energy politics – but my goal is to compile my own mini encyclopedia of any nuggets of wisdom I may encounter reading about these topics. As I sit at the gigantic 16-person table in our office, I look out at the stacks of books and newspaper articles in front of me, and it feels daunting. In the same way, climate change as a social problem feels daunting to activists: where do we even begin?

Distilling information is a useful skill, regardless of the context.

These are the questions I have been asking myself, (inspired by this great handout from the University of Toronto):

• What is, in one sentence, my goal? What do I seek to learn?
• What questions would I need to ask in order to learn that information?
• What is/are the problem(s) involving my social issue? Who are the different actors/stakeholders in relation to it/them?
• Where do people agree or disagree with what actions that should be taken moving forward? How could I examine these ‘controversies’ in modes of thought?
• What examples could I look at that would help me better understand the issue I’m examining?

A good literature review is narrow enough that it is manageable, but broad enough that it may be considered comprehensive. Needless to say, the balance is tough to strike. The best literature reviews, I am told, are written with consideration and purpose of your broader research goal, rather than being a descriptive list of written summaries.

This is my first “real-deal” literature review – here we go!