When We Take Too Much
“We must have the courage to admit we have taken too much.” — Colette Pichon Battle, from a beautiful episode of On Being
Let me preface this by saying this will be an unpopular opinion. It’s still pretty taboo in the climate advocacy world to tell people their lifestyles need to change. It pisses people off. But that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Because it’s true. That said, another caveat: this won’t apply to everyone. Some of us bear far more responsibility for the climate crisis than others. Last caveat: most of my life, despite caring deeply about the environment, I’ve been part of the problem. I come from a family and social circle where overconsumption is as natural as breathing. So, much of this is about my need to grapple with my own role in the climate crisis. Here goes.
It’s spring break season. Woo! This March marks a milestone: three years since I’ve been on an airplane. Until this recent stretch, I can safely say I’ve been on a plane almost every year of my life. Which means it’s easy for me to forget that more than 80% of people on this planet will never get on an airplane in their lifetimes. I’ve been thinking about flying a lot recently because, now that “the pandemic is over” (rolls eyes) everyone’s going on vacation. But, I’m doing everything I can to avoid getting on a plane again anytime soon. Yes, now that we have kids, I absolutely despise flying and the mere thought of it gives me anxiety (especially these days with “air-rage” at an all-time high). But this isn’t about that. This is about what I’m entitled to, and what I’m not entitled to. This is about all my unnecessary consumption. This is about admitting that I have taken too much. And maybe it’s time to make some changes.
Another IPCC report came out recently and it’s, um, let’s just say, FUCKING DIRE. I’ve been working on this article off and on for a couple weeks, and in that time, we’ve seen record high temps in the Arctic and Antarctic, with parts of the Antarctic 70 degrees warmer than normal. Say what?! And an ice shelf the size of Los Angeles just collapsed and disappeared over the course of a few days. So, let’s just say, shit’s getting real a lot faster than expected.
So, what’s this have to do with flying? Well, it’s one of the most carbon-intensive activities we can do as individuals. And rich people, especially Americans, are the worst offenders. Aren’t we always? Just 1% of the world population caused half of aviation’s carbon emissions in 2018, and the U.S.’s aviation emissions were more than the next 10 countries combined (see here). But it’s not just flying. According to a 2020 Oxfam study:
“The richest one percent of the world’s population are responsible for more than twice as much carbon pollution as the 3.1 billion people who made up the poorest half of humanity during a critical 25-year period of unprecedented emissions growth.”
You see, contrary to popular belief, climate change isn’t an overpopulation problem. Please read that sentence again and make sure you get it. Climate change is an overconsumption problem. The climate crisis is a class crisis. And the rich are becoming so outrageously responsible for it, that we need to start entirely rethinking how we approach the problem.
According to a recent Bloomberg article (please read it):
“After a generation of poorly distributed gains from globalization, it turns out that personal wealth does more than national wealth to explain the sources of emissions. Climate progress means first curbing the carbon output of the wealthier among us.”
So, who exactly are the global elite? Well, the top 10% of earners globally includes anyone making over $38,000/year. The top 1% is anyone making over $109,000. Just about everyone I know is in this rarefied group.
I understand it’s deeply unpopular to talk about carbon footprints and individual choices when there’s an entire fucked up system at play here. Industries in the wealthy Global North extract resources and labor from the Global South, produce greenhouse gases and pollution in the process of both extraction and consumption, and leave the Global South to dry out, starve, burn, or flood as the climate heats up. There’s no way for any of us to fully extricate ourselves from this egregious system. And many Americans who are technically in the “global elite” still struggle to meet their needs because of stupidly expensive healthcare and childcare and the like. I’m not interested in shaming them or even including them in this discussion. And yes, there are, of course, times when we must get on a plane or drive or do other carbon-intensive things. But, this system exists in part because wealthy people demand it with our consumption. And when we over-consume, when we take way beyond what we need, many of us willingly betray our values.
Do you have one of these signs in your front yard?
If we say Black Lives Matter, how can we keep contributing disproportionately to an environmental crisis that is already causing enormous suffering for our kin in Africa and Black communities in America? If we say we’re feminists, how can we keep contributing more than our fair share to a crisis that leaves women, particularly poor women of color, even more vulnerable than they already are? If we say we believe in equity and democracy, how can we keep making choices we know disproportionately harm folks who currently have little power, money, or political influence stop us? If we believe in science, what the fuck do we think climate scientists have been screaming into the void for decades?
Maybe we can make this a yard sign instead:
Here’s the thing, if humanity takes the steps needed within the next decade to fix the climate crisis, then wealthy, over-consuming American’s lives are going to have to change. At least for a while. My continued hope is that we will roll out renewable energy at scale quickly enough to help us massively decarbonize. My hope is that we’ll have zero-emissions flights someday and zero-emissions SUVs plus a whole EV infrastructure that charges them on a clean energy grid. But, as of now, there’s no political will to do anything that even remotely amounts this level of systems-change. Plus, Airbus says its zero-emissions aircraft concept won’t be reality until at least 2035. That’s too late, friends. Science says we’ve got about 8 years to cut emissions by almost 50%.
So, we’ve got a choice. Keep on keeping on, hoping somehow the problem will magically solve itself (it won’t). Or make some changes. Let’s start by reducing our most carbon-intensive activities — flying, driving, eating meat. But also, maybe let’s just generally stop consuming all the fucking things all the damn time because the planet simply can’t take it. There are framework solutions to the climate crisis that focus on drastically reducing consumption like economic degrowth and doughnut economics. They are anathema to stuff-loving Americans, but at this late hour, might be the best chance we have to curb this crisis. But I wonder, if we had the opportunity to support policies that would force us to reduce our consumption, would we?
The Bloomberg article I mentioned says:
“And just as companies generally decline to fully use their lobbying power, social capital and brand identities to press governments to take stronger climate action, rich people tend not to use the full extent of their influence: as role models, as corporate executives or board members, as citizens.”
There’s an article that came out in Nature Energy recently that explores the possibilities for high socio-economic status people to exert unique pressure to create systemic change. It looks at our roles as consumers, investors, role models, organizational participants, and citizens, arguing we have an outsized ability to influence through these levers. The challenge for us is to actually do it. As yet, relatively few of us are willing to. Though, I should also stress here that I absolutely don’t believe the global elite should have the primary say in deciding climate strategies. In fact, I think we need to sit the fuck down and relinquish power. But, talk about wishful thinking…
Ultimately, I’ve grown less and less able to do the mental gymnastics to justify my lifestyle under my own moral framework. So, I don’t plan to get on a plane anytime soon, and will cut my flights back to every few years, at most. I’m trying to drive less and eat less meat (which would be easy, but for my vegetable-hating family *shakes fist*), and trying to consume fewer unnecessary things. This is a helpful, research-based guide for personal actions. I also joined our local community solar program, and will be looking for the most energy efficient options to upgrade our boiler and A/C when the time comes (too $oon). Instead of fantasizing about travel, I’m fantasizing about putting solar panels on our roof. Rather than spending our disposable income on stuff we don’t need, we can spend it on stuff that makes a difference (bonus: many states and municipalities have incentives for these things).
I’m trying to challenge my addiction to consumption — reframing how and where I find happiness. My life hasn’t felt worse because I haven’t taken a beach vacation in years. I’ve found so much joy in the garden, and love tending to my seedlings in the spring, which I can’t do if I’m gone for a week on vacation. I enjoy walking home from daycare with the kids, even though it takes longer (and they definitely complain). I’m also trying to challenge my addiction to comfort. The science is pretty clear that we’re in for an uncomfortable future. I often think about the fact that this moment, right now, is the coolest the planet will ever be for my kids. It’s got the most stable and predictable weather systems they’ll ever experience. The most abundant biodiversity they’ll ever know. Likely, the most social and political stability. All this comfort in my life is starting to feel insidious, like it’s numbing me to reality. Consumption is now the opiate of the masses. And there’s something very, let’s just say, supremacist, about the idea that I’m more entitled to my luxury vacations and mountains of stuff than all the other living things on this planet are to, you know, a functioning ecosystem. An ecosystem that also keeps me alive, whether I acknowledge it or not.
But let me also be clear: I don’t expect perfection. I care deeply about the environment and have basically my entire life, and I’m still very far from perfect. That’s okay. Expecting perfection is usually just another excuse for inaction. And yes, individual behavior change isn’t going to solve this, but collective behavior change is absolutely, crucially necessary. And my god, fellow global elites, we have taken so damn much. If we have the courage to actually make some bold changes, our individual choices would send signals to our social circles and to institutions and governments, and turn into collective choices.
From the Bloomberg article, again:
“’Many people do not see themselves being part of either the problem or the solution but look for governments, technology and/or businesses to solve the problem,’ wrote the authors of a 2020 Nature Communications journal article called “Scientists’ Warning on Affluence.” But that paper concluded people, not institutions, need to solve the problem. The organizations engaged in climate debates — governments, companies, NGOs — are ultimately legal or social structures made up by people. And if people don’t change, the institutions won’t either.”
I can’t purport to care about the planet and my non-human kin, about Black lives, about poor folks, about women and children, if I continue to disproportionately contribute to the system that harms them. Will I be perfect? No. But, do I have a responsibility, as someone who is a far bigger part of problem than most people on this planet, to do more? To try to do better? Yes. Unequivocally. I have little tolerance for hypocrisy, least of all in myself. And if enough of us privileged folks make some meaningful changes and take the lead on living simpler lives, then we might be able to actually start shifting the system.
It’s past time for us to have the courage to admit we’ve taken too much, and more than that, to do something about it.
