2/22: Choosing Inaction
Cheerful Recklessness in the Face of Crisis
Reading
At the same time we can note the rise of a false or superficial ecology which bolsters complacency and a cheerful recklessness. As often occurs in periods of deep crisis which require bold decisions, we are tempted to think that what is happening is not entirely clear. Superficially, apart from a few obvious signs of pollution and deterioration, things do not look that serious, and the planet could continue as it is for some time. Such evasiveness serves as a license to carrying on with our present lifestyles and models of production and consumption. This is the way human beings contrive to feed their self destructive vices: trying not to see them, trying not to acknowledge them, delaying the important decisions and pretending that nothing will happen. (Laudato Si’, 59)
Reflection
In a 2016 Yale University poll, only about half of Americans reported that they thought climate change was caused by human activity. Only 38% of Americans think that global warming will hurt them personally. Fully two thirds of Americans never discuss climate change.
Each day I take out the garbage, I walk into the garage and open the door from my garage into our side yard, where we keep our trash, recycling, and yard waste bins. I remember noticing when we moved into the house a year and a half ago that the wooden door frame was clearly in need of repair. The paint was chipping, the weather stripping worn — still functional, yet demanding attention.
Every time I walk through the doorframe it gets worse and worse. Now, the bottom transom has nearly dislodged itself from the concrete foundation, and sections of the exterior doorframe are rotting off. This summer, the afternoon Carolina heat will likely bear down on it to the point where it may become difficult to open or close the door, or there may just simply be a whole in the side of our house. How did it get this bad so fast?
I’ve heard some compare our current response to climate change like the response of frogs in boiling water. As the water boils, frogs don’t notice it getting slowly hotter and hotter, and eventually die as they are cooked in the water. What this analogy misses is that we know much more than the frog does. We actually do know the water is getting hotter, and that it’s affecting us. We’ve made estimates as to how fast the water will get hotter, what consequences this rise in heat will have, and even have ideas about how to jump out of the pot and turn down the range. Frogs have no information, we have extensive information. And yet, we remain mired in cheerful recklessness.
I think our collective responses to climate change are more like rotting door frames than boiling frogs. We see the damage every time but invent reasons not to acknowledge it. We simply choose to ignore it. In the words of Pope Francis, we are “trying not to see them, trying not to acknowledge them, delaying the important decisions and pretending that nothing will happen.” Two-thirds of Americans never talking about climate change is clear evidence that collectively we are choosing not to see this as a problem.
There are two lessons here. First, Pope Francis is writing this as a call to nations like the United States who have wavered or stymied, if not backed out entirely to global commitments to reduce carbon emissions. While the burden lies upon national leaders to act, it is also within the power of electorates to put pressure on leaders. So even if you can’t buy solar panels for your house tomorrow, talking about climate change with a friend and communicating the need for climate action may help contribute to building a broader public coalition that would pressure leaders to act more justly on behalf of the environment.
A second lesson is more personal. Lent is a season about finding the rotting door frames in our lives — the parts of ourselves mired in self-doubt, overconsumption, insecurity, selfishness, and sin — that are much easier to sweep under the rug than to confront in their fullness. Take a moment this Lenten season to revisit those rotting door frames in prayer.
Then head to the hardware store.
Questions
- In what ways have I chosen not to prioritize the environment and the challenges of climate change? In what ways do I give myself permission to continue my present lifestyle and models of production and consumption, even if they are incompatible with long term sustainability?
- What are the rotting door frames of my life now? How might lent be an invitation to explore those parts of myself that I am least proud of?
Prayer
Lord God, in this season of Lent you invite us
To return to you with our whole hearts.
Grant us the courage to act boldly in the face of crisis,
Unafraid to make difficult choices knowing that you are by our side.
Amen.