After another summer of voracious fires, costly floods, and the loss of lives and livelihoods around the globe, you could be forgiven for being overwhelmed. Climate change was once commonly framed as a far-off phenomenon (what will the world be like in 2100?), or perhaps something that will only affect other people living somewhere else. Setting aside for a moment the breathtaking lack of empathy that would allow us to feel comfort in that last one, it has become inescapably apparent that climate change is here, now, and affecting you and I.
Relative to many of its wealthy, industrialized counterparts, Canada is lagging particularly far behind in the effort to ambitiously and rapidly reduce the greenhouse gas emissions that cause climate change. Our progress in reducing greenhouse gas emissions ranks last among our G-7 counterparts, and yet, we are warming at twice the global average rate.
There are a host of explanations for this: our sprawling, car-reliant cities, our heavily subsidized oil and gas sector, and our growing population come immediately to mind.
Outright misinformation and misleading claims pervade the national conversation here, ranging from Alberta Premier Danielle Smith’s assertions that Canadians will “freeze in the dark” if we decarbonize our grid, and federal Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre’s claim that a higher price on carbon would “shut down our whole economy.”
The reality is that Canada will fail to protect its most vulnerable communities and fail to fully reap the rewards of playing an integral role in the transition to renewable energy that is sweeping the globe, unless we move much faster.
According to the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, we already have the technologies to make it most of the way to our 2030 and even our 2050 greenhouse gas reduction targets. In many cases, we already know what to do — or at least we know enough to move ever so much faster, and of course, correct as we learn more. So why don’t we just do it? Three key issues are at play here.
First, climate change has often been presented as mainly a scientific and environmental problem. Consider the omnipresent visual icon of climate change — the polar bear on a dwindling glacier — and the current fixation on carbon capture and storage technologies. This framing dramatically narrows the set of solutions that we think are possible or desirable. It suggests that the only solutions are technical, and the main barrier to fixing this is to ensure that everyone has a sufficient grasp of the science. We’re operating with blinders on, neglecting powerful tools that can amplify and accelerate progress.
Climate change is a deeply social, political, and behavioural issue. Our emissions emerge directly from what we value and how we plan: Are our homes close enough to school so that our kids can walk? Do building codes require the highest standard of efficiency, and require new buildings to move actively away from burning natural gas or other fossil fuels for heat? Do we have access to nature in cities, so that we’re shaded in the heat, protected from floods, and more enticed to walk or cycle? Do we honour single-family detached homes and private vehicles as the general symbol of success, or are we ready for a different definition of wealth?
Second, we are awash in a sea of competing narratives, garbled facts, outright misinformation, and polarized debates. But misinformation isn’t as simple as a bad actor cooking up lies to get rich. As inequality goes up, trust in institutions goes down. We also tend to engage less in our communities through volunteerism and civic action. The ripple effects of this are many: we don’t trust institutions — including scientists — and we also don’t trust each other.
Make no mistake: climate change is inherently political. We must make tough decisions about how to work together. Responding will mean some groups may lose some power while others gain it, and the rules that we agree to live by will determine our success. But being political doesn’t necessarily mean climate change must be so radically polarized. Blind trust in science and public institutions isn’t helpful, but a deeper understanding of how they function and the value they offer to our lives is essential.
Third, we are struggling to deal with more than one crisis at a time, and yet, too often, progress in one means a setback for another. A classic example of this is installing air conditioners to deal with extreme heat, which may require burning fossil fuels to generate additional electricity. We need to prioritize affordability, create good new jobs, slow biodiversity loss, and invest in world-leading education and health care — all at the same time.
These three challenges are connected and mutually reinforcing. Thankfully, so are the solutions. We can generate spectacular co-benefits from effective and inclusive climate change action if we think about systems. This would involve seeing and planning for connections between our health, climate, nature and economy, and looking around the world for examples of where this is going well.
Affordable housing can, and should, be a climate solution if it’s located in areas that are not routinely exposed to climate hazards, built to the highest efficiency standards, and is ready to be powered and heated by renewable energy. Actively building relationships with people different from ourselves can reveal shared values, deepen trust, and enhance the likelihood that we’ll work together on big, prickly issues. This makes us more collectively resistant to polarizing or divisive rhetoric, less susceptible to conspiracy theories, and generally, more actively hopeful.
It is objectively false that nothing has been done about climate change, and that nothing is working. Without the climate policies currently in place, experts say emissions would be 40 per cent higher in 2030 than they are currently on track to be. But climate change will only become more immediate, more costly, and more devastating. It can also be the impetus to address long-standing fractures in our society and our relationship with nature. Confronting this crisis with imagination, humility, and nuance will position Canadian communities to adapt and thrive.
Sarah Burch is a professor at the University of Waterloo’s Department of Geography and Environmental Management, Canada Research Chair in Sustainability Governance and Innovation, and executive director of the Waterloo Climate Institute. She is also a lead author of the United Nations’ Sixth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, and helped to lead expert input into the development of Canada’s first National Adaptation Strategy.
Comments