On… Denial
How can we move past climate denial?
Last week torrential rain tore across large regions of the UK.
Cars were stranded on the M25.
The water went down quickly and we are fortunate that the only thing that needs replacing is carpet.
Some 12,000 lightning bolts were recorded in one day, one of which set a village pavilion on fire.
There were hailstones. In the middle of a heatwave.
And my parents’ house was flooded.
It happened so quickly that the water had already spilled over into the house before they even had the chance to notice.
The BBC reported on the flooding, including a train accident that killed three people, caused by a landslide.
The article is entitled, ‘Thunderstorms and Flash Floods after Scorching Heat.’ It’s 1,000 words long, but it doesn’t mention climate change once. Not once.
So this week’s post is on climate denial. And how on earth we can move past it.
After the Flood
I couldn’t believe it when my Mum sent me the photos of the submerged garden. It was the first time flood water had ever reached the house.
I’ve read reports about how flooding will increase drastically due to climate change. I’ve seen the headlines about flooding in others’ houses. I’ve lobbied politicians on flooding as part of my climate advocacy.
But witnessing rising water in your childhood home is a different thing altogether.
Seeing your Mum’s carefully tended garden submerged in dirty water. Watching as the lockable and draft proof door is rendered ineffective at protecting your home against this entirely new threat. Sighing with relief that you managed to move valuables before they became submerged.
Climate predictions are becoming a lived reality.
It’s disorientating to directly experience the impacts of climate change, having spent so many years reading about them.
Mitigation or Mitigating Circumstances
The flooding was apparently caused by blocked drains in the road.
So with the drain cleared, the risk of flooding should be greatly reduced.
It was also caused by the surrounding aging sewage system. By a significant increase in wastewater due to new housing. By the subsequent lack of drainage due to the reduction of green spaces.
And, of course, by climate change.
Which is exactly why climate change often gets missed as the overarching factor; it’s just too nebulous.
There are nearly always other factors that are tied up in its impacts. Infrastructure, preparedness, freak weather incidents that have always taken us off guard once in a while.
It’s not necessarily that these floods have never happened before, it’s just that the intensity and frequency is creeping up at an alarming rate, and it will continue to do so. But because these changes are happening over a number of years, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment that climate change became the driving factor.
A drain can be unblocked, the carpet can be replaced, the plants are already growing back.
But climate change? It’s hard to know where to start and what to do with the thought that this could happen again. Worse. Than. Before.
‘Problem is, these drains weren’t made for weeks of sweltering heat and then a month of rain in a hour’ one of the waterboard inspectors said.
Well exactly. And who is accountable for that?
A plan and a way to fix a problem helps us feel more secure amidst uncertainty, but with climate change it’s not so simple.
Climate Impacts and Climate Action
When I first started out as a climate lobbyist, I had thought that once people started to feel the impacts of climate change for themselves, then things would begin to shift significantly.
We’d be clambering to find solutions. Hammering on our politicians’ doors until they could do nothing but take climate change seriously. That the race to cut our emissions as quickly as possible would finally begin.
But it doesn’t work that way, and now I understand why.
When your house is flooded (or crops fail, or you are barricaded by snow, or your home is getting encroached by sea) all your energy needs to go on sorting out the immediate problem at hand.
My parents have spent their week liaising with the waterboard, coordinating with neighbours, jumping through the insurance company’s hoops, building a flood barrier across the door, picking out new carpet, cleaning up and drying out their belongings.
Now isn’t the time to think about halting global climate change.
And, according to climate communications researcher, George Marshall, later won’t be the time either.
The Psychology of Climate Denial
‘I’ve learned the most about climate change from those who deny it’, George says in his short and entertaining TEDx talk.
The first and probably still one of the best books I ever read on communicating climate change.
George was hugely helpful for me when developing Hope for the Future’s climate lobbying training resources. He helped me think through our approach, and to treat the times when we disagreed with the politicians we lobbied as a learning opportunity, rather than as a failure. That is eventually what led to Hope for the Future’s reputation as a national specialist in climate lobbying training.
His book, ‘Don’t Even Think About It’, was one of the first things I ever read about climate communications, and it’s a brilliant place to start if you want to learn more about how to have better conversations about climate change.
Which is worth doing because, according to George, two-thirds of people have never had a conversation about climate change. Why? Because it’s just too unbearable to comprehend.
Why is also why, statistically, we are no more likely to start taking action on climate change if we have been a direct victim of its impacts than if we haven’t.
We can survive a flood once. Maybe twice. But the thought that this might only be the beginning? It’s too much to stomach, decreasing our likelihood of feeling able to do something about it, and therefore the chances that we will even try.
Why We Need Denial
Psychologically speaking we all have our own tolerance level for the things that disturb or frighten us. This varies from person to person, and also depends on what it is that threatens us, because we each have different triggers.
When stress mounts up or something deeply disturbing tears into our lives we may find ourselves outside of our window of tolerance. And when we’re outside of our optimum emotional range we may find ourselves falling into either depression or denial.
In denial our brains are shutting out a reality in order to protect us from the pain that the truth might cause. Which is why climate denial is actually a form of eco-anxiety.
Giving ourselves permission to ‘hide’ when overwhelmed is a healthy way of managing difficult emotions around climate change. Also, I personally find cute animal pictures helpful- you’re welcome.
It’s to do with feeling vulnerable, out of control and powerless, which is a pretty natural response to climate change.
Denial in healthy doses can actually help us keep our heads and enable us to persevere through adversity that we would not be able to tolerate if we tried to comprehend it all at once. Because, if the prospect of climate change pushes us outside of our window of tolerance (and that’s all of us at some point, surely?) then the other option is the immobilisation of despair.
But our optimum functioning (when we are best at problem solving, collaboration and offering assistance to others) is when we are within our range of tolerance.
So the question is, how can we remain within that window as much as possible in order to ensure we bring our best selves to the challenge?
Unblock the Drain
Staying with my parents this week, I’ve seen how they and their neighbours have put their full force into making sure the waterboard get to the bottom of the problem and the drain is unblocked as quickly as possible.
Apart from the fact that doing so will help to protect those homes, it feels good to know there’s something that can be done. That anxiety can be channelled into positive action.
Which is why it’s so important to know that there is still time left and plenty we can do to halt climate change.
If you’ve experienced the impacts of climate change, the equivalent of lobbying your waterboard to get the drain unblocked is to write to your MP and tell them about climate change.
Tell them what it feels like, how it affected you, what your concerns are for the future. Help them make the link between an event in their local constituency and climate change. Ask them to work for policy changes that will speed up national action on climate change.
Because all the climate communications research shows that personal stories are some of the most effective ways to mobilise people to action.
And even if you haven’t yet been directly affected, write to them anyway.
Even if you’ve written before. Even if you don’t think they are listening. Even if they are already doing something and you don’t think they need to hear it. Trust me, they do. There’s a lot going on in the world right now and policymakers need to know climate change still matters to us.
Hope for the Future can help if you’d like some support getting started.
Let the Rain Come
And then, because we are not machines and because we are living, breathing, beautiful souls, allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling. Let the rain come.
The shock and anger. The fear. The disorientation. The grief. Any and all of it.
Take care of yourself. Be kind to yourself. If you need to fall apart a bit, that's ok.
And in the longer term, consider ways that you can develop practices that can hold you through these difficult times and give yourself the best chance of expanding your resilience for the challenging times ahead (For me, these practices are Grace, Grounding, Gratitude, and Growth which you can read more about in my Eco-Anxiety series, but you might also want to take a look at Renee Lerzman’s excellent TED talk on our window of tolerance for climate change).
Because that is what will give us the capacity to tell the truth as it is, and to continue acting according to that truth.
Developing practices to help us work with the difficult emotions can help us move from the temptation to deny or despair about the climate emergency.
The Truth as It Is
There was actually a small mention of climate change on the BBC story I cited in the introduction to this post. It’s not in the article itself but there’s a small reference right at the very end of the first video explaining the thunderstorms.
The presenter simply says that we can expect more of them because of the ‘warming weather.’
What does that even mean? The transition from the winter to summer season? You would have to be listening pretty carefully to get that he is alluding to climate change.
It’s a staggering example of misreporting given that global warming isn’t about the weather (that is, short term and highly variable changes in the atmosphere), it’s about the steady breakdown of the entire globe’s climate, the effects of which can be seen in weather patterns as well as many other planetary changes.
To report with such a lack of leadership encourages a tiptoeing around the issue, to the point of almost complete denial.
And sometimes I don’t know what to do about challenging that because I don’t want to upset anyone. Because it is distressing. Because I don’t know if I’m able to handle the truth myself anyway.
Who wants to bring up climate change when we’re also in the middle of a pandemic? When a climate denier is the leader of the most powerful country in the world? When we’re conscious of so many other immediate crises like underfunded public services, global political tensions and the staggering rise of mental ill-health?
But, although it’s going to be clunky and it might lead to some difficult moments, we need to start having those conversations as best we can. Getting started on learning how to do them in a way that invites others to get involved.
Because the truth is that the more we feel we cannot talk about something, the scarier it becomes. And the stronger the temptation to deny it.
And that vacuum in conversation creates space for other narratives to come. It can be taken advantage of by those who stand to gain a lot from denying climate change (for more on this, see George’s TEDx talk mentioned above).
It’s hard to start difficult conversations about climate change, but when approached well they can alleviate fear and give us resilience for the challenges ahead.
I’ll finish with a quote from one of the best books I have recently read, ‘The Wild Edge of Sorrow’, by Francis Weller. It’s not really a book, so much an extended ode to grief with a world of wisdom thrown in. It’s beautiful.
Weller writes, ‘the accumulation of losses are pressing on our psyches and demanding that we engage the multiple sorrows that are enfolding our world and our lives. This crack in our denial is one of the most hopeful signs I see for our planet.’ (p. xvii).
About Me
I’m Jo, formerly the founder Director of national climate change charity, Hope for the Future. I am currently researching eco-anxiety and how we can build emotional resilience in our response to the climate emergency.
Welcome to Climate.Emergence- a place to emotionally process what on earth is happening to us and our planet.