Power and Powerlessness (The Dartmouth)

(This media piece was published in The Dartmouth.)

Our voices matter.

The gravity of this realization shouldn’t be lost on us: we are powerful as young people. We can shape this world into whatever vision we carry for it.

It’s sometimes hard, though, to embody this statement. How can our voices matter in a world that is meant to silence them? How can we speak up about issues that matter to our generation if we are told these very issues are too large, too complex, too systemic to handle?

I think about climate change all the time. Those who know me on campus know that this issue has defined my four years at Dartmouth, particularly through my involvement with Divest Dartmouth. I see the ways in which this problem will affect our futures: hundreds of millions forcibly displaced due to sea level rise and natural resource conflict. The rise of vector-borne viruses such as Lyme disease and Zika. We’ll have the resources to adapt in New York City, but Manila will be underwater. Climate change will affect our health, our economy and our society — and it will disproportionately affect communities that are already on the front lines of socioeconomic, racial and gender-based injustices.

The reality of climate change is very insistent. But it is complex and difficult and systemic — how can we solve a problem that is so wicked?

This question has guided my research this year as a senior fellow. I spend my days agonizing over it and have come to realize how much our ability to solve monumental problems is rooted in the power we wield to shift society.

Do young people have power? I have been conducting interviews for my research, and asking my research subjects — scientists, policy makers and activists working on climate change — this question. Of the many insightful answers, one sticks out: “People feel empowered when the responsibility they feel for a problem is equal to the power they have to solve it.”

When it comes to big problems, we as young people oftentimes feel this responsibility most strongly. I know that I myself feel this viscerally: I cannot accept the futures that scientists are predicting for us under unchecked climate change. I recognize the rights of my generation to live in a world that has at least as many opportunities as the one into which the generations before us were born.

What about power?

It isn’t always obvious to see the ways in which power is exerted over us. In particular, we don’t think about how the way certain institutions are structured influences how empowered we feel.

Think about the D-Plan: We’ve come to accept this quarterly structure as a given, despite the fact that it has only been implemented for about forty years. And yet, the D-Plan affects us in ways that we may not always be aware of. For example, most of us realize its impact on our ability to maintain relationships. It’s hard to have a relationship between two people at Dartmouth who might not see each other for the better part of a year.

Why should we care about systems of power? Institutional change is a core part of Dartmouth’s tradition. Our College has been shaped by a rich history of students before us who wanted it to be better — from women who fought for the inclusion of “daughters of Dartmouth” in the alma mater, to students who fought (and are still fighting) for the abolition of the Indian head symbol to students who founded the Dartmouth Outing Club.

When we realize that we not only carry a responsibility to make this world better, but that we are indeed capable of changing it, we become empowered to forge ahead working on problems that may seem too significant to challenge. When we realize we are powerful, we push ourselves to do things that terrify us because we know they are important, and we grow. When we start noticing the structures that disempower us, we can go about changing them to create the world we seek.

Our voices matter.

Standing at a Crossroads (The Dartmouth)

(This media piece was published in The Dartmouth.)

“Nobody has the right to gamble with your future.”

Ahmad Alhendawi, the United Nations Secretary General’s Special Envoy for Youth, said these words to a group of young people attending the UN climate talks in Paris this December.

The talks — the biggest UN climate summit this decade — were anticipated to be a shining moment in history, a time where the world came together to negotiate a binding, ambitious, universal agreement on climate change. This was my ninth such UN conference and I came to Paris with a sense of tempered optimism, realistic about what the conference would deliver, but hopeful for a positive outcome.

To many young people who were there — including myself — the conference meant so much more: a chance to act on climate change so that we could have a future worth looking forward to. In the face of injustices caused by the burning of fossil fuels including the loss of indigenous lands and disproportionate negative health effects inflicted on already vulnerable communities — we couldn’t afford to leave Paris empty-handed.

The conference was a blockbuster event. More world leaders were under one roof than any other time in history. Everyone from President Barack Obama , to Arnold Schwarzenegger, to Russian president Vladimir Putin and Jane Goodall, urged countries to reach an agreement in order to act swiftly on climate change.

Despite this, I saw my future being gambled away as the conference progressed . I saw the way that our governments paid lip service to climate action while ensuring that the Paris Agreement lacked any real commitment to a more sustainable future. As a young person, I saw the future I wanted for the world — one with clean energy, healthier communities, racial and socioeconomic justice — being replaced by a future with more suffering and frequent food and energy crises. I saw the beginnings of a downward spiral toward ecological and social devastation.

For us young people, the future is not some abstract concept, but a better world we can choose to create and inhabit.

We have long looked to our elected representatives and world leaders to solve this crisis, but it is becoming increasingly clear that they do not represent our best interests. Instead, the fossil fuel industry’s deliberate misinformation, corporate lobbying and corruption stand in the way of the political willpower we need from our decision-makers. For example, ExxonMobil —— in addition to other companies — internally discussed global warming amongst its own scientists as early as 1977, yet still continues to fund misinformation campaigns that cast doubts on the certainty of human-caused climate change. The tobacco industry used the same tactics to mask the harm caused by their products . It is time we see fossil fuel corporations as equally morally reprehensible.

At Dartmouth, we have so much more potential than we realize. With influential alumni and world-renowned faculty, our actions and words resonate far beyond the confines of Hanover. Therefore, it is our responsibility to act. Climate change is one of the defining issues of our generation. These years will be remembered by history as either the time we chose to act on  overwhelming scientific evidence or the time we chose to ignore it.

It is for all these reasons — my experiences at these UN conferences and my awareness as a Dartmouth student, in addition to the climate science and policy research I have been conducting since my first year at the College -— that I know Dartmouth must divest from the top 200 publicly traded fossil fuel companies by proven reserves. COP21 was a signal: the fossil fuel era is coming to a rapid close . In Paris, countries agreed to phase out fossil fuels by 2050, which would render a large portion of fossil fuel stocks valueless.

Divestment matters, because it represents a moment in which young people can regain their power . Divestment matters, because it gives us agency as students in the face of a society that tells us our age renders us insignificant. Divestment matters, because it reflects the urgency of a problem that cannot wait for us to graduate college to be solved.

There is a growing contingent of young people, faculty and alumni who are pushing the Dartmouth administration to have a conversation with us on divestment. Yet, despite this growing demand for dialogue and compelling financial and moral evidence for divestment, the administration has continued to stall throughout our nearly four year campaign. We are still waiting to meet with the Board of Trustees.

Here at Dartmouth, we stand at a crossroads. We can continue to maintain the status quo — say that we are doing enough to fight climate change while being physically and financially invested in fossil fuel companies -— or we can divest the College’s endowment from fossil fuel holdings and transition our heating sources to renewable energy (and no, fracked gas is not a option). We can indeed make this future a reality, if we so desire it, but we need to get to work.

This is a call to action.

How Can You Bring the Arctic into the UNFCCC Space?

Leverage Point #3: The goals of the system

It goes without saying that the Arctic is on the front lines of climate change: both in that physical changes are happening rapidly in this region, but also that communities in the region are in need of immediate adaptation. In such a way, I consider the Arctic to be a microcosm of the mitigation and adaptation required in order to adequately address climate change.

My main research interests for this project focus on both the international and UNFCCC realm, and the Arctic and Arctic Council. Of course, this meant I would be interested in seeing how the Arctic would be represented at the UNFCCC.

Three different events caught my attention:

Side events telling us how bad Arctic climate change will be

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When I scoured the extensive UNFCCC side events list for anything Arctic related, I only found examples of events such as these that chronicled the Arctic ‘unravelling’ in a pretty cookie cutter way (if you came across events that took a different angle, please let me know). These events highlighted that the Arctic is changing faster than other regions, and that Arctic communities are already needing to relocate and adapt to significant changes in climate – essentially, according to a State Department event, that “what happens in the Arctic doesn’t stay in the Arctic”.

To my knowledge, however, no events seemed to focus on solutions to these problems, or on what action would be required at COP21 to avert the most significant damage to these communities.

Aurora, Greenpeace’s polar bear (and all polar bears, really)

The great Aurora, Greenpeace's iconic polar bear.

The great Aurora, Greenpeace’s iconic polar bear.

The polar bear seems to remain alive and well as the climate change poster child! Despite the fact that the Arctic is home to a wide diversity of communities and people, it was represented at COP21 by Greenpeace’s gigantic polar bear, Aurora. A larger-than-life, moving, roaring machine, Aurora was brought to COP21 to “roar for billions of people”, including frontline communities, according to Greenpeace.

Despite these good intentions, I heard concerns from northern youth organizers that Aurora didn’t represent them. In my experience on Arctic issues, I’m inclined to agree: using polar bears as a symbol for the Arctic robs the people who live there of their own identity, and continues to promote the false belief that the Arctic is a barren place devoid of any life except for charismatic polar bears.

Furthermore, it is incredibly frustrating to hear that Arctic youth can’t be brought to high-level international negotiations – decision-making events that directly impact their futures – because of the high cost of bringing them from the Arctic, only to have money needlessly spent to ship mechanical polar bears or to build a replica Eiffel Tower in the conference hall.

IceWatchParis

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This mesmerizing art piece was one of my favourite things about COP21. Twelve chunks of ice were brought from Nuuk, Greenland, to Paris, and placed in front of the Pantheon as they slowly melted. The chunks were an interactive art exhibit, giving people the opportunity to touch ice and play with ice, and hear the sound of water dripping as it slowly melted. Up close, trapped air bubbles could be visible, as well as cracks:

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Most of the people I saw in the square touched the ice and walked around different pieces to get a better idea of what made each chunk unique. Others tried (unsuccessfully) to sit on the pieces, or kick them.

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It was an odd sight for me, seeing this ice not on a Greenlandic glacier, but in the middle of a square surrounded by traffic and honking cars. But, I think this art project served a worthy goal: bringing the Arctic home to those who may have never experienced it. The chunks of ice were so massive, so immovable at first – they were imposing, even in front of a building as imposing as the Pantheon.

 

Ego

Leverage Point #3: The goals of the system

 

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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.

Is the UN Process Not Made for Progress? Part 1

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"

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):

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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.

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.

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.

Love This World Till It Hurts (Thought Catalog)

(This media piece was published in Thought Catalog.)

Why Should We Care About Climate Change?

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

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!

The (Undervalued) Importance of Laughter and Celebration Within Social Justice Movements

 

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.

 

 

In Paris

Hello all,

I arrived safely in Paris today. I am staying safe and laying low for now, but hope to begin interviews once again.

Stay tuned for updates!

At the Natural History Museum: “Global Warming?”

With extra time on my hands in London, I visited the Natural History Museum today with my friend Morgan Curtis, who is biking to the Paris talks from the United States.

I was shocked to find that the main atrium of the museum was sponsored by non other than mining giant Rio Tinto. I shouldn’t have been that surprised, then, to find a rather factually inaccurate depiction of climate change in the subsequent exhibit:

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That question mark is loaded – it implies that there is uncertainty with regards to the “reality” of global warming. Of course, there are so many uncertainties with climate research, as there is with all scientific research. But these certainties are more related to things like the range of safe parts per million of CO2 in the atmosphere, or the best mitigation plan moving forward. Still, opinions abound as to the best means of adaptation for communities impacts by climate change. Yet, there is no uncertainty relating to whether or not global warming is happening at a rapid scale, or whether or not human activities such as the burning of fossil fuels are to blame.

The NHM exhibit didn’t make this distinction, however. In fact, it gave the impression that volcano eruptions are contributing just as much to current climate change as human activities, placing them side by side. It also implied that carbon dioxide is “good” – it insulates the planet, after all!

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What’s worse, a nearby panel placed coal next to an exhibit on the pyramids – suggesting that extracting and burning coal is an endeavour as noble as building the pyramids. I would personally argue that solar energy is more noble!

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Clearly, we still have a ways to go when it comes to science communication around climate change!