What can our response to Covid-19 teach us about climate change?

I enjoyed a socially distanced tea with a friend the other day. We sat in her garden talking about nesting birds, how our plants are coming along, the weather. It was almost blissfully ordinary.

The virus is still here, but for some reason, I am less threatened by it.

Perhaps because the first wave appears to be behind us. Perhaps because of the significant reduction in cases. Perhaps because we have had time to emotionally adjust to ‘the new normal.’

Or perhaps it’s because I want to believe that awful time is behind us and I want to know that life won’t be suddenly upended by something so simple as, ‘Jo, your mum, dad, friend, whoever, has developed a persistent cough.’

A New Normal

We know, from this pandemic if nothing else, that humanity can actually cope remarkably well with uncertainty and difficulty— often we thrive off it. But there comes a point when we do just need to hear from someone we trust that we’re going to be ok. It’s human nature.

Currently, scientists are brought along to the daily briefings in order to bring a much needed authority and assurance to government guidance. And so far this has worked well because trust in science has soared since the pandemic.

Scientists told us what was coming as the virus spread across the world, and their predictions proved to be accurate. We have seen the evidence with our own eyes.

But will we keep listening to the science and keep faith in social distancing for the long haul?

Because resilience can get worn down, edges can become frayed, and we can find ourselves more vulnerable to buying into dangerously quick fixes and easy answers that don’t serve us very well in the long run.

That is the point at which it can become tempting to look for someone to blame— usually authority figures or a powerless section of society— and that’s when things can become volatile.

Living with Uncertainty Now

If infection rates rise significantly a second time, our resiliance to living with uncertainty will be tested once again, and to new limits.

Will we be able to bear re-entering tight lockdown for another unknown period of time, whilst experiencing a second wave of collective fear, grief and uncertainty?

And if we do lose faith in the science because, for example, not even the government’s top advisor is adhering to it, by the time we see a second wave it will be too late to stop the ensuing death and loss.

We know, for example, that during the Spanish flu of 1918, currently the deadliest pandemic in modern history, those cities that kept social distancing measures in place never experienced a second peak, whereas those that lifted lockdown within a couple of months were destabilised by a second wave of infections.

So the reality is that after three months of tight lockdown and horror-filled headlines, another period of uncertainty, economic damage, and bereavement could be on the horizon. None of us quite know how this is going to pan out.

I would highly recommend Rebecca Willis’ book, ‘Too Hot to Handle, if you would like to learn more about the difficulties MPs face in handling the climate emergency.

So how are politicians to make palatable such a disturbing truth? They are the messengers, and currently they’re playing all sorts of games to avoid getting shot.

And the same is true of the climate emergency. If we fail to trust the scientific recommendations— to halve our emissions by 2030 at the absolute latest*— by the time we see the full scale of the impacts for ourselves, it will be too late to repair the permanent devastation that will bring. One that will dwarf anything we can expect from this pandemic.

So somehow our leaders will need to inspire faith in climate science.

But right now, most politicians choose not to because, like a second pandemic peak, it’s not a pleasant message to convey. It’s not something they think we want to hear.

Advocating for the unprecedented level of change that is required in responding to climate change is also a difficult sell for MPs. Especially in comparison to visions of a golden age we can all return to with the click of our fingers. You know the slogan…

’Make America Great Again.’

But the difficult truth is that the uncertainty we have become acquainted with through Covid-19 is soon to become our new normal, as we live with an increasingly destabilised climate.

It’s not possible to go back because if we do, we risk all that we hold most dear, everything that we have worked so hard for. And we can choose to welcome our new future now, with some degree of control still remaining, or we can be forced into it later, when the chaos is no longer controllable.

In other words, the longer we put off taking the journey into the unknown, the more certain climate devastation becomes.

So how will we as a society manage such a journey? Are we even capable of doing what is required?

An Example from Fundraising

My role as a charity director involves a lot of fundraising, and there’s no greater lesson in human psychology than how people spend their money.

Many donors will give substantial sums to a sudden, disruptive event or after exposure to an awful injustice, even if it’s been going on for many, many years. Something that shocks or jolts us awake, something that generally instigates our fear response, can be the beginning of a wave of change and transformation.

Right now, for example, the internet is overflowing with stories of donations to anti-racism causes, including a report from the Financial Times that US companies have pledged more than $450m since the murder of George Flloyd.

But how much of this giving will be sustained? Because that’s important for those organisations tasked with distributing this resource strategically. It takes time to recruit and train up staff for the work ahead, and it is not easy to then have to let them go if funds dry up.

Donors give to bring positive change, to ease suffering, to help make a problem go away. And giving from our own material possessions is a healthy, vital and compassionate ‘fight’ response to something that threatens what we care about.

But what happens when, for example, a development charity shows the same pictures of suffering children a year later? A decade later? Half a century later?

Fundraising research tells us that donors begin to disengage, many stop giving, they look away. The flight response has been triggered.

Not because donors don’t care anymore, quite the opposite. But because it’s painful when nothing changes. And if we’re not offered new and alternative means of fighting for our cause, one that promises to yield better results, we may find ourselves turning away.

That’s why the temptation to pretend that climate change isn’t happening, or that it isn’t that bad really, is strong because so many of us feel powerless to do anything about it.

When you can’t fight it

One of the greatest challenges of the climate emergency is that, unlike many causes we might give to and perhaps later give up on, this is one that we can’t get away from. We know that it doesn’t just affect one group of people, or one part of the world, it stands to affect us all, forever.

So if we don’t feel able to fight it, and we know we won’t be able to flee from it, we may find ourselves acting out the third response; we freeze. We are immobilised.

Physiologically speaking, the freeze response produces a lovely kind of natural anesthetic which numbs the pain and prepares us for the inevitable. We can carry on with our days, hoping that things will work out, but not daring to be part of the change because to engage is too painful.

Essentially, we become sitting ducks.

If you are actively involved in the fight against climate change, you may find that you are struggling with burnout or overwhelmed by feelings of grief and anger.

If you are fleeing from the issue, you may find yourself increasingly exhausted and hardened as the evidence mounts up and it’s more difficult to ignore what is happening.

And if you are frozen, you may find yourself feeling as though you are a pawn in a chaotic and unsafe world.

Please know that these are normal responses to such a colossal— but not impossible— challenge, and that our responses can (and arguable should) vary from moment to moment.

Can we move through our fear?

Moments of disruption, such as the death of George Floyd or an XR demonstration that brings London to a standstill, can be turning points in history, but they will succeed or fail based on how well their strategy understands the human need for a sense of direction and the confidence to take the journey.

They will need a positive vision of something new, beyond survival, to compel us forward, even when the future looks bleak. As we learned from Martin Luther King Jr, they will need a dream.

And so that it is possible to bear with the uncertainty of that endeavour, they will also need a roadmap as to how to get there.

Cue, The Future we Choose by Christiana Fiqueres and Tom Rivett-Carnac.

Christiana and Tom are founders of Global Optimism and were instrumental in securing the 2015 Paris Climate Change Agreement.

In The Future We Choose they propose two contrasting visions for the world; one of destruction, grief and pain, the other of hope and human flourishing. The rest of the book is devoted to ten actions that will help us build the latter.

Their vision is a beautiful one, and the book is a delight to read because they’ve got the credentials to convince you it’s really possible. They offer something truly great to live for, without falling into the trap of denying what we stand to lose.

This book is a communications masterclass and I would recommend it highly to anyone.

And the truth is, we’re more ready to do things differently than our politicians realise, perhaps even than we realise ourselves.

Life After Lockdown

Only 9% of Britons want to return to normal life after lockdown.

Cleaner air, more wildlife and stronger communities have given us a small taste of the better world that is possible, despite the enormous human and economic suffering that we have endured alongside it.

This is a threshold moment in human history, as Figueres explains in her recent article, ‘Covid-19 Has Given Us the Chance to Build a Low Carbon Future’.

So we need a conscious and deliberate effort to Build Back Better from this pandemic, hand in hand with the planet. It doesn’t have to be an either-or.

How can each of us help move things in the right direction?

We are so much more likely to be able to keep on fighting for our future and meet that 2030 deadline, if as a collective we are able to talk openly about our fear and uncertainty, and if we are able to trust each other enough to take the risk of dreaming big.

So if you haven’t done so already, now is a good time to start (or restart) climate conversations with your friends, family, colleagues and politicians (especially politicians- sign up to the newly launched campaign to put climate change at the heart of the UK’s recovery, Build Back Better here)

But think strategically about your approach.

Don’t peak too soon, if you can excuse the expression.

Be selective about when you will choose to jolt those you engage with from their slumber. Be strategic because those opportunities for transformation don’t come around often, but they are vital in order for the truth to be revealed in all its uncomfortable and painful detail.

And notice also any opportunities to lay the groundwork for that awakening by creating and living an invitation to a better world. A clean, green, safe, fair and collaborative world.

Spend time dreaming of the world you want to see for yourself and future generations. Dare to dream big, dare to dream of something more than just survival. As best you can, start living it.

And perhaps most importantly, if in one of those conversations you are given the opportunity to listen to someone’s fear for the future—their feelings of inadequacy, their confusion about what to do— give space for that discomfort to find expression.

Don’t try to tell them what to do or how to feel. Instead listen, hold the space.

Because in doing so the unbearable may just become a fraction more bearable, and the temptation to look away a fraction less compelling. We will need to hold each other through this journey.

The call to build a better world is a hard thing we are asking of ourselves, and it is a hard thing we are asking of others also. But without a doubt this is, in the words of Christiana and Tom, ‘an invitation to rise the next level of our abilities’, and we’ve never been more ready.

Want to get your MP fired up about the climate emergency?

Take a look at climate lobbying specialists, Hope for the Future.
Sign up to the Build Back Better campaign to put climate at the heart of the UK’s coronavirus recovery plan.

*Due to our historical emmissions, the UK’s target should aim for something sooner than 2050. For more information, please see my post On…Black Lives Matter.

**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.

On… The Second Peak