New Left Review 45, May-June 2007 A critical assessment of George Monbiot’s scheme for a 90 per cent cut in carbon emissions. Given the psych

New Left Review 45, May-June 2007  

A critical assessment of George Monbiot’s scheme for a 90 per cent cut in carbon emissions. Given the psychological grip of capitalist consumption patterns, and the forces blocking attempts to tackle climate change—fossil fuel lobby, heavy industry, airlines—what is the best strategy for environmental action? Can ambitious targets and moral exhortations bring any improvement on existing treaties?

CLIVE HAMILTON

BUILDING ON KYOTO

George Monbiot has attained an iconic status among English-speaking progressives. His ability to see through the sophistry of governments, corporations and their various apologists has provided us with a range of new political insights. In recent years he has devoted many of his columns in the Guardian to the defining problem of our era, climate change, exposing the cant of politicians and dirty dealing of the fossil fuel lobby, deploying both forensic research skills and elegant prose. Monbiot’s book on climate change was therefore keenly anticipated by his readers. Like all of those who truly face up to the implications of climate change science, Monbiot is exasperated at the timidity of those in government who claim to take global warming seriously. Even environmentalists, he suggests, refuse to confront the enormity of the task.

Heat is Monbiot’s search to find the answer to climate change. [1] Over several chapters he considers the problem areas—energy wastage, electricity generation, land transport, aviation—and argues that Britain can cut its greenhouse gas emissions by 90 per cent. The argument is presented as a kind of personal intellectual odyssey, describing where he went, what he read, how his thinking evolved, which ingrained assumptions he had to discard and the emotional turmoil of getting to the end. The book might be read as a detective story in which the author and protagonist must solve this crucial puzzle. By the end of it, Monbiot believes he has found a ‘workable solution’ for slashing Britain’s emissions, and that it is ‘generally applicable’ to other countries.

There is a deeper message in Heat, one that is anathema to fossil fuel lobbyists—not to mention neoclassical economists and hand-wringing politicians. Despite the comforting arguments of some environmentalists—and Nicholas Stern, in his 2006 report for the uk Treasury—that we can tackle climate change without major disruption, in truth cutting the world’s greenhouse gases by the necessary amounts is almost intractable. We can only avoid catastrophe—including millions dying in the Third World—if we radically change the way we in the rich countries go about our daily lives. Above all, we must abandon our comfortable belief in progress. There could be no greater challenge to growth fetishism and our deepest held assumptions about progress, nor any graver threat to the power of the ‘wealth creators’.

Are we in the rich countries of the world capable of making such a psychological transition? The glib answer is that we simply must. Yet such an environmental imperative must conquer a more powerful force. Our profligate consumption is no longer aimed at meeting material needs but at reproducing ourselves psychologically. In modern consumer capitalism, consumption activity is the primary means by which we create an identity and sustain a fragile sense of self. If, in order to solve climate change, we are asked to change the way we consume, then we are being asked to change who we are—to experience a sort of death. So desperately do we cling to our manufactured selves that we fear relinquishing them more than we fear the consequences of climate change. This helps to explain the chasm between the complacency of ordinary people and the rising panic among climate scientists and clear-eyed environmentalists. Monbiot understands this, and some of the most compelling passages of Heat explore the psychological obstacles to saving the planet. The campaign to maintain a liveable climate is unique:

it is a campaign not for abundance but for austerity. It is a campaign not for more freedom but for less. Strangest of all, it is a campaign not just against other people, but also against ourselves. [2]

Climate change wars

Having begun by characterizing humankind’s relationship with fossil fuels as a Faustian pact, Monbiot then turns to the climate change denial industry. The political campaign to persuade governments to take action to prevent global warming has been conducted mainly by environmental organizations, based on the work of scientists around the world. But by the time global warming was beginning to be recognized as the gravest threat to humanity, environmentalism had given rise to its opposite, a virulently hostile coalition of industrialists, right-wing commentators and conservative politicians. From the outset the evidence for global warming and the climate crisis has been resisted by the tide of anti-environmentalism, itself powered by the same energies that drove anti-communism before the fall of the Berlin Wall. Most recently the argument has been put by Margaret Thatcher’s favourite chancellor, Nigel Lawson. Attacking Nicholas Stern, Lawson claimed that environmentalism ‘is profoundly hostile to capitalism and the market economy’. [3] This is the nub of the matter. The logic of the sceptics—in the right-wing think tanks, the conservative media and the White House—is as follows: environmentalists are the enemies of capitalism; what they advocate must be contrary to the interests of capitalism; climate scientists who provide the evidence that supports their views are also enemies of capitalism; accepting the evidence of global warming means giving in to anti-capitalists; therefore, we must not accept the science of climate change and will seek out any shred of evidence that appears to contradict it.

This is more than an ideological conviction; for some it borders on a religious one. When asked in 2001 if President Bush would be urging Americans to curb their energy use, his spokesman Ari Fleischer replied: ‘That’s a big “no”’. He went on to declare that wasting energy is akin to godliness:

The President believes that it’s an American way of life, and that it should be the goal of policy-makers to protect [it]. The American way of life is a blessed one . . . The President also believes that the American people’s use of energy is a reflection of the strength of our economy, of the way of life that the American people have come to enjoy. [4]

In recent years wealthy Texans have discovered the joys of sitting in front of a log fire. As it is usually hot in Texas they must turn their air conditioners up so they can enjoy the cosy warmth from their hearths. Using energy simultaneously to heat a house and cool it only seems perverse if you reject George Bush’s conception of the American way of life.

The global warming deniers have been conducting a sustained war on climate science and the Kyoto Protocol since the mid-1990s. Monbiot reveals that some of the organizations and personnel that pursued a covert strategy of disinformation in defence of the tobacco industry shifted across into promoting climate change denial on behalf of the fossil fuel lobby. They adopted the same tactics of sowing doubt in the public mind, characterizing global warming as an unfounded panic in an increasingly risk-averse world. The pivotal role of ExxonMobil in funding and promoting anti-green organizations and climate deniers was detailed in January of this year in a report by the Union of Concerned Scientists. In September 2006, Britain’s Royal Society took the highly unusual step of writing to ExxonMobil, asking that it desist from funding organizations that ‘have misrepresented the science of climate change by outright denial of the evidence’. The report mentioned the Competitive Enterprise Institute—a Washington-based conservative think tank ‘dedicated to advancing the principles of free enterprise and limited government’—and the London-based International Policy Network. ExxonMobil’s response was to sound wounded.

Among the important organizations funded by ExxonMobil has been the website Tech Central Station, which describes itself as a site ‘where free markets meet technology’. It is probably the world’s most effective climate-sceptic website. Until recently it was published by the dci Group, a top Republican lobbying and public relations firm with close ties to the Bush Administration. dci advertises its ability to provide ‘third party support’ to clients and has been linked to several industry-funded coalitions that pose as grassroots organizations. ‘Corporations seldom win alone’, the group’s website says. ‘Whatever the issue, whatever the target—elected officials, regulators or public opinion—you need reliable third party allies to advocate your cause. We can help you recruit credible coalition partners and engage them for maximum impact. It’s what we do best.’ The company’s skills in astroturfing were acquired by its managing partners—Tom Synhorst, Doug Goodyear and Tim Hyde—during nearly a decade of work for R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company in the 1990s.

In addition to front groups and industry-funded websites, a number of right-wing think tanks have played a crucial role in preventing action on global warming. As Monbiot recounts, perhaps the foremost has been the Competitive Enterprise Institute. Along with the many statements it has made denying the seriousness of global warming, the cei has argued that climate change would create a ‘milder, greener, more prosperous world’ and that ‘Kyoto was a power grab based on deception and fear’. In addition to ExxonMobil, corporate funders include the American Petroleum Institute, Cigna Corporation, Dow Chemical, ebco Corp, General Motors and ibm. The cei is also intimately involved in the Cooler Heads Coalition, which argues that the risks of global warming are speculative. Pre-empting the release of Al Gore’s film An Inconvenient Truth in 2006, the cei made television advertisements arguing against climate change. Notoriously, one of the ads ended with the words: ‘Carbon dioxide, they call it pollution, we call it life.’ These groups have spawned and emboldened a network of individuals who have little scientific training, but who are utterly convinced that the ‘global warming theory’ is a giant fraud being committed by the scientific establishment.

Aware that fanatical anti-environmentalism does not appeal to the general public, the anti-Kyoto forces have linked their arguments to currents that run deep in consumer capitalism. Societies dominated by growth fetishism provide fertile ground for any claim that a proposed intervention, such as a carbon tax, would undermine the right to keep consuming at ever-higher levels. Monbiot understands the game, and that is why his strategy of getting activists onto the streets is the only one that can work: but he argues that the activists must be re-educated. In one of his strongest chapters, he makes a compelling case that if we are to decarbonize the world economy we shall have to give up air travel. This appears shocking, the sort of claim that is so unacceptable that we immediately look for psychological defences that allow us to reject it.

Ambitious targets

In truth we could give up all but the occasional flight, and after a period of adaptation easily become accustomed to travelling less or travelling differently, just as we did before planes were turned into buses with wings in the 1970s. The principal obstacle, and it is a formidable one, is a well-established psychological fact: while we do not much yearn for what we cannot imagine, we become powerfully attached to it once we have it. In one of the more fearless and far-reaching observations in Heat, Monbiot concludes that solving climate change ‘demands that we do something few people in the rich world have done for many years: recognize that progress now depends upon the exercise of fewer opportunities’. [5]

Although Monbiot identifies the psychological and political barriers as the principal obstacles to deep cuts in greenhouse gas emissions, the largest part of his book is devoted to finding a technologically feasible solution. Climate change is a subject that has drawn in thousands of experts from across a range of disciplines—most of the physical sciences, energy systems, economics, finance, ethics, politics, international relations and, increasingly, psychology and the sociology of knowledge. It is difficult for anyone to have expertise in more than one or two of these disciplines: one must decide not what to believe, but whom to believe. Yet Monbiot casts humility aside.

Monbiot has decided that his task in Heat is to achieve emission reductions that might prevent the globe warming by more than two degrees: a more ambitious target than most. That this target requires stabilizing greenhouse gas emissions at the equivalent of 440ppm of carbon dioxide is suggested to Monbiot in an unpublished paper, sent by a man who—he concedes—‘is not a professional climate scientist but [who] appears to have done his homework’, with supporting evidence from the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact. [6] Proposing an egalitarian division of carbon emissions per person by 2030—rather than a longer convergence period during which the developing world might ‘catch up’—Monbiot then calculates his aggressive target for the rich world: a 90 per cent reduction by the same date, far beyond the cuts proposed by anyone else.

Seemingly determined to be more audacious than any other environmentalist, Monbiot ends up endorsing the global coal industry’s golden bullet, the technology that it prays will allow it to survive and prosper in a carbon-constrained world. Carbon capture and storage—also known as geosequestration—involves building coal-fired power stations with the ability to separate out the carbon dioxide from the flue gases, then concentrating and pumping the carbon dioxide through pipelines to long-term storage in saline aquifers deep beneath the earth. As a solution to global warming this is a political ruse first and foremost—even its supporters concede that it will not make a significant difference to global emissions for 15–20 years, and it is likely to be more expensive than existing alternatives. Monbiot should know better than to give it his blessing; after all, both the Bush Administration and the Howard government in Australia have put most of their policy eggs in that basket.

The argument of Heat is marred by a number of misunderstandings, especially in Monbiot’s consideration of the economics of his proposed solution to the climate change problem. After arguing against reducing carbon emissions purely by way of taxes—which would allow the rich to live as they choose, or necessitate unwieldy rebate systems—he proposes a rationing system for international allocations of carbon emissions. Yet his system for allocating carbon budgets within a national economy is a kind of emissions trading system—it would ‘create a new currency’ that could be ‘traded with other people’—that would again allow rich lifestyles to continue, largely unimpeded. He argues that the European Emissions Scheme is flawed because it allows polluters to avoid cutting their carbon emissions, by paying others to cut theirs; but that is the point of any trading system, including his own. He argues that if the required cuts are deep enough ‘every sector must cut its emissions by roughly that amount’. This must be wrong, but it serves his purpose of wanting to show how every sector can achieve 90 per cent cuts. [7] Monbiot does not seem to grasp that a carbon tax and an emissions trading system are very similar, except that the first fixes the price of emissions and allows the market to determine the quantity emitted, while the latter sets the quantity of emissions and allows the market to set the price. The system he proposes is largely embodied in the Kyoto Protocol, and the European Emissions Trading Scheme is part of that framework.

Monbiot’s criticisms of the Kyoto Protocol could play into the hands of the fossil fuel lobby. The need to accommodate contentious and poorly understood economic and equity effects in a global environmental agreement made the Kyoto negotiations the most complex and ambitious international treaty process ever attempted. It involved 180-odd states with enormously disparate interests and multitudinous allegiances—even before account is taken of the spoiling role of the powerful fossil fuel lobby. Consider the components of the system. The Protocol is built around mandatory emission limits for rich countries, with an unstated expectation that developing countries will adopt limits once the West has shown the way. It incorporates an emissions trading system that allows states finding it difficult to meet mandatory caps to buy surplus emission permits from other countries that can cut their emissions by more than they are required to. This sets up powerful incentives, as well as slashing the cost of the system and allowing deeper cuts. It includes a Clean Development Mechanism that enables companies in rich countries to invest in emission reduction projects in poor countries, thus giving the latter a stake in the system and much-needed financial flows. Of course there are some loopholes in the Protocol—Russian ‘hot air’ and the incorporation of ‘forest sinks’ being the biggest—but they were the price of reaching an agreement. [8] Given the almost impossible task, the Kyoto Protocol was a profoundly important achievement. It requires no structural changes other than the closing of these loopholes and agreement on a global compliance mechanism that imposes sanctions on recalcitrant states.

Monbiot’s comments on the failure of the Protocol to incorporate emissions from aviation are also ill judged. So fraught and finely balanced were the negotiations at Kyoto that it was inevitable that some issues would be left off the table to be dealt with in future rounds. Yet Monbiot ridicules the uk Department of Transport for stating that the lack of international agreement means that aviation emissions are not included in the inventory of greenhouse gases. ‘But a child could see that you simply divide the emissions [from international flights] by half’, he writes. I have no brief to defend a sclerotic bureaucracy, but only an imperfect understanding of the problem could lead to such an answer. There are too many ‘what ifs’ to mention, but one will do. What if it is a flight from a poor country that has no target under the Protocol? The Department of Transport acknowledges that the aviation industry should pay for the environmental damage caused by planes. This in itself must send chills through the airline executives, but for Monbiot it is not enough, and he resorts to the cheap shot: ‘Should a steward be sacrificed every time someone in Ethiopia dies of hunger?’ [9]

Clash of ideologies

A month after Heat appeared, publication of the Stern review caused waves around the world. When Stern was commissioned by uk Chancellor Gordon Brown to consider the economic implications of climate change and measures to reduce emissions, his unofficial remit was to persuade America and Australia, to join global efforts and ratify the Kyoto Protocol. Stern set out to refute the principal argument used by the governments of those countries to justify their reluctance: that cutting emissions would be economically harmful. Stern and his team concluded that the costs of doing nothing—that is, the damage to economic activity of climate change—are likely to exceed the costs of cutting emissions by an order of magnitude. In this way he seemed to turn the argument of the recalcitrants on its head. Even ignoring the environmental costs, it makes financial sense to induce the transition to a low-carbon world. Although they are ostensibly on the same side, there is a sharp divergence between the arguments of Monbiot and Stern. While Monbiot argues that the necessary reductions in global emissions will require a wholesale change in lifestyle, Stern argues that dealing with climate change will mean a reduction in global gdp of a mere 1 per cent. While Monbiot declares that saving the planet challenges the very notion of progress, Stern concludes that ‘tackling climate change is the pro-growth strategy for the longer term’. [10]

One reason for this divergence lies in differing targets. While Monbiot’s goal of 90 per cent cuts by 2030 would limit atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations to 440 parts per million, Stern considers this to be impossible and sets 550 parts per million as his target. This will require emission cuts of 25 per cent by 2050, including reductions of 60–75 per cent in the power sector. (Stern says that in the longer term, reductions of at least 80 per cent will be needed.) His goal is thus much less ambitious, although still hard to attain. Monbiot feels the need to describe in great detail exactly how and where the cuts should occur. Stern is confident that once a powerful signal is sent to the market, then the market will find a way to carry out the restructuring of the energy economy. There are reasons to believe that Stern is correct. In fifty years’ time the world will be dramatically different: if a strong signal can be sent now, there are grounds for optimism. While we currently have the technologies to reduce the world’s emissions sharply over the next decade or two, by 2050 the market—suitably guided—will present a set of possibilities we cannot foresee. After all, fifty years ago we did not have electronics, television, computers, nuclear power, widespread use of plastics or mass-produced white goods, let alone biotechnology, genetic engineering, nanotechnology or space tourism. Beyond their disagreement over emission reduction goals, the difference between Stern and Monbiot is one of political strategy. Stern wants to persuade reluctant politicians that deep cuts will not be too painful, while Monbiot wants to frighten us into action. Will either strategy work?

It should have been apparent to Stern that his strategy would fail. Although often convened under the banner of economic argumentation, the climate change debate is a clash of ideologies. Stern, trained as an economist and therefore taught that there are no ideologies except wrong ones, failed to understand this. Gordon Brown’s willingness to embrace Stern’s rhetoric but reluctance to act on his recommendations can only be explained by his reflex privileging of the health of the economy over the health of the environment. (To his credit, Stern resigned.)

Stern himself remained captive to a way of understanding the world peculiar to his profession. After all, for some years economic modelling has shown that the cost of meeting Kyoto targets would be vanishingly small. Even estimates commissioned by the Bush Administration typically conclude that cutting emissions as mandated in the Kyoto Protocol would see the gross national product of the United States reduced by only 1 per cent by 2012. A virtually identical figure was reached by the Howard government in Australia. Bearing in mind these results are five years old, what does this figure mean? If nothing is done and the economy grows at 3 per cent a year over the period, gnp in the us will be about 40 per cent higher by 2012. If policies to reduce emissions as specified in the Kyoto Protocol were implemented, national income would be 39 per cent higher by 2012. Put another way: instead of gnp reaching a level 40 per cent higher by, say, 1 June 2012, if the us ratified Kyoto it would not reach that level until 1 October 2012.

In the face of these minute effects on economic growth, the us and Australia have nevertheless refused to play a part in reducing global emissions. Confronted with a high probability of environmental catastrophe on Earth, the richest people on the planet are unwilling to wait an extra four months to increase their incomes by 40 per cent. Understood this way, hostility to Kyoto appears to be a form of madness. In truth, the results of economic models, even the ones produced by Stern that invert the argument for not acting, are puny in the face of the real reason for rejecting Kyoto: an ideological conviction that nothing must come in the way of growth and corporate interests.

Heat is an odd mixture of polemic and analysis—‘green and expert’, one might say—and does not shy away from the moral core of the climate change debate. But in prosecuting the argument, Monbiot at times shares a predisposition with the denialists and fossil fuel lobbyists: an over-emphasis on the failure of individuals to do more to reduce their own contribution to global warming. Monbiot writes that ‘well-meaning people are as capable of destroying the biosphere as the executives of Exxon’. [11] This is a nice line, but who would you rather have in charge of solving global climate change: Anita Roddick or the ceo of Exxon? Roddick may be well-meaning but misguided, whereas the ceo of Exxon is misguided and malicious. Poor understanding can be overcome, but malice cannot.

A collective response?

At times Monbiot is drawn into the most dangerous trap for environmentalists, the recourse to holier-than-thou moralizing. This approach has a peculiar symmetry with orthodox economics: both place far too much responsibility on the shoulders of individuals. Appealing to the idea of ‘revealed preference’, free-market economists argue that if individuals do not make environmentally benign decisions in the marketplace then they do not really care about the environment, no matter how much concern they might express in opinion surveys or over the dinner table. Monbiot too seems to judge us by our decisions in the marketplace. However, it is quite consistent for a person who does not opt to buy green electricity to vote for a party that promises to compel us all to buy it. Insisting on a collective response to a collective problem is far more politically practical and environmentally responsible than a politics of guilt.

Yet Monbiot is a more sophisticated political thinker than many other environmentalists writing on climate change. Among the latter, Tim Flannery abandons hope for political action and concludes in The Weather Makers that the only way to solve the climate crisis is for each of us to install solar panels on our roofs. [12] Monbiot does not fall for such political naivety, understanding the frailty of our environmental convictions in the face of the temptations of consumption. ‘Manmade global warming’, he writes, ‘cannot be restrained unless we persuade the government to force us to change the way we live’. [13] He understands that we are both citizens and consumers, and that consumers will never solve the climate change problem however much politicians might hope otherwise. While Flannery ends his book with a list of ‘eleven things you can do’ as a consumer, Monbiot urges his readers to join political movements that pressure governments and the big polluters. In his last chapter he writes incisively about why people have not been massing in the streets, or even engaging in guerrilla protests, as they once did. Among other factors, he blames that over-hyped tool of post-modern politics, the internet—which, he writes, ‘allows us to believe that we can change the world without leaving our chairs’. [14] By giving the illusion of individual power to desk-bound revolutionaries, the internet has in fact only hastened the erosion of real democratic participation.

However, Monbiot’s style and range sometimes risk leaving the reader more disoriented than dazzled. In just four pages, in a chapter that costs his scheme for solving global warming, Monbiot leaps from commentary on fuel price fluctuations to energy demand under different prices, from the opportunity cost of spending on greenhouse abatement to the paucity of aid spending in the uk, from the extent of government subsidies to industry around the world to Bush’s Energy Policy Act, from the apparent corruption of eu coal subsidies to the cost of the Iraq War and, finally, peak oil. Heat contains two superb chapters, one exposing the sinister tactics of the climate change denial industry and its links to the tobacco lobby, and one on the end of aviation: it is these two that were excerpted at the time of publication. Whilst these may provide enough reason to buy the book, readers of some of the remaining chapters may be disappointed. A work by Monbiot devoted to the politics of climate change would have been a more useful intervention than his opinion on how to achieve 90 per cent cuts in every sector. It is not the only time Monbiot has written a book that claims to solve the world’s most intractable problems single-handedly: The Age of Consent (2003), described as ‘a manifesto for a new world order’, set out a detailed blueprint for a new international democratic system, built on principles of justice. In the battle between utopians and realists, my vote always goes to the former; yet not all utopian visions are equal, and Monbiot crossed the line that separates the inspirational from the fanciful.

Monbiot’s role tells us something about the state of modern progressive politics after three decades of retreat. Following the decline of the organized left, there remain only a handful of lone intellectuals who are skilled at articulating the failings of a world dominated by neo-liberalism and neo-conservatism. They deserve our gratitude for their commitment, and for resisting attempts by publishers to turn them into celebrities. But they lack a broadly shared vision or intellectual milieu that could discipline the evolution of their thinking. As a columnist George Monbiot is a devastatingly effective critic, but we will need to search elsewhere for the ideas to lead us out of the climate change wilderness. 

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[1] George Monbiot, Heat: How to stop the planet burning, Allen Lane: London 2006.

[2] Monbiot, Heat, p. 215.

[3] Nigel Lawson, ‘The Economics and Politics of Climate Change’, Centre for Policy Studies, 1 November 2006, p. 16.

[4] White House press briefing, 7 May 2001.

[5] Monbiot, Heat, p. 188.

[6] Monbiot, Heat, pp. 15–6.

[7] Monbiot, Heat, p. 59.

[8] Under the Kyoto Protocol Russia is required to ‘limit’ its emissions to 1990 levels over 2008–12. The collapse of Soviet industry in the early 1990s, however, means that Russia’s emissions are not expected to reach 1990 levels until well after 2012. The difference is known as ‘hot air’. The effectiveness of forests as carbon sinks, meanwhile, is strongly contested.

[9] Monbiot, Heat, p. 175.

[10] Nicholas Stern, The Economics of Climate Change, Cambridge 2006, p. ii.

[11] Monbiot, Heat, p. 172.

[12] Tim Flannery, The Weather Makers, London and New York 2006.

[13] Monbiot, Heat, p. xv.

[14] Monbiot, Heat, p. 214. 

New Left Review 45, May-June 2007  

Responding to Clive Hamilton, George Monbiot stresses the inadequacies of current governmental efforts to address rising global temperatures, and the need for targets to be set by science rather than political expediency. An attack on the cruelties of cost-benefit analysis, and a call for genuine ethical commitment to replace tokenism.

 

GEORGE MONBIOT

ENVIRONMENTAL FEEDBACK

A reply to Clive Hamilton

In his review of Heat, Clive Hamilton makes many excellent points, and draws on powerful examples. The image of Texans turning up their air conditioning in order to enjoy a log fire is now printed indelibly on my mind. He correctly identifies the association between consumption and identity, and the threat that the need to tackle climate change presents to the traditional view of progress. I believe he may be right when he says that I have been too harsh in my criticisms of the Kyoto Protocol. But I would, of course, like to contest some of his other claims.

Let me begin—as this underpins all the arguments that follow—by explaining why I have chosen an ‘aggressive target’ for cutting carbon dioxide emissions. Hamilton says that seeking to prevent two degrees of warming above pre-industrial levels is ‘a more ambitious target than most.’ That is not correct. As long ago as 1990, the United Nations Advisory Group on Greenhouse Gases proposed that we should seek to confine the rise to a maximum of 1–2°C. [1] An upper limit of 2°C is the European Union’s stated target, which informs the carbon reductions planned by the uk and most of the governments making serious efforts to tackle climate change. [2]

There is a good reason for this. Two degrees of warming is the point at which up to 4 billion people could suffer water shortages, crop yields could fall in many regions of the poor world, mountain glaciers disappear worldwide and the irreversible melting of the Greenland ice sheet, which could eventually raise global sea levels by 7 metres, is expected to begin. [3] It is also the point at which several important positive feedbacks could be triggered. The permafrost of the West Siberian peat bog, for example, contains 70 billion tonnes of methane, a powerful greenhouse gas. [4] If all of it were released, its warming effect would equate to 73 years of current manmade carbon dioxide emissions. The methane that escapes due to melting would accelerate global warming, melting more permafrost, which releases more methane. A two-degree rise in temperatures could cause the runaway warming of permafrost throughout the Arctic Circle.

For this and other reasons—including the die-back of tropical forest, the accelerating metabolism of soil bacteria, a reduction of the earth’s reflectivity as ice melts—two degrees of manmade warming could cause a total impact of three degrees; and three degrees could lead inexorably to four. In other words, if two degrees of warming takes place, the problem is snatched from our hands. The biosphere becomes a major source of greenhouse gases, and there will be little we can do to prevent further climate change. Two degrees is the only target worth setting.

But while governments might agree that we should strive to keep temperatures below this threshold, they and their advisers fudge the means by which this should be done. Sir Nicholas Stern, for example, spells out the dire consequences of two degrees of warming. He then recommends a target for atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gases of 550 parts per million, when measured as ‘carbon dioxide equivalent’ (CO2e). Stern admits that this concentration would produce ‘at least a 77 per cent chance—and perhaps up to a 99 per cent chance, depending on the climate model used—of a global average temperature rise exceeding 2°C.’ It would also give us a ‘30–70 per cent’ chance of exceeding 3° and ‘a 24 per cent chance that temperatures will exceed 4°C’. [5]

In other words, 550ppm CO2e is the wrong target, as Stern must know. He is not alone. At a meeting I attended in 2005, Sir David King, the British government’s chief scientist, proposed that a ‘reasonable’ target for stabilizing carbon dioxide in the atmosphere was 550ppm CO2 (which means approximately 630ppm CO2e). It would be ‘politically unrealistic’, he said, to demand anything lower. [6] Simon Retallack from the Institute for Public Policy Research reminded Sir David that his duty is not to convey political reality but to represent scientific reality. King replied that if he recommended a lower limit, he would lose credibility with the government. It seemed to me that his credibility as a scientific adviser had just disappeared without trace.

So while two degrees remains the nominal upper limit, repeatedly cited by government ministers, politics, not science, informs the carbon reductions they propose in order not to exceed it. The calculations I explain in Heat, which any numerate person can replicate, estimate the cut demanded by the science. Hamilton says that the result—a worldwide reduction of 60 per cent—is ‘far beyond the cuts proposed by anyone else’. This is also incorrect. A paper published recently in the journal Climatic Change shows that in order to obtain a 50 per cent chance of preventing the global average temperature from rising by 2° above its pre-industrial level, we require a global cut of 80 per cent by 2050. [7]

Carrot juice and wishful thinking

Having tried to identify the reduction the science demands, I then seek to discover how it could be implemented. This, rather than a determination to be ‘audacious’, is what leads me into conflict with other environmentalists. If, as I believe we must, we are to place the effort to prevent runaway climate change at the top of the political agenda, we will have to make some hard choices. A 90 per cent cut across the economy of rich nations will require a cut of approximately 90 per cent in every major sector. If, for example, the carbon dioxide produced by land transport, which currently accounts for 22 per cent of the uk’s emissions, were to be reduced by only 50 per cent, emissions across the rest of the economy would have to be cut by 98.2 per cent. While I believe that 90 per cent is just within the realm of political possibility, 98.2 per cent lies well beyond it. We cannot afford to favour any sector.

Anyone seeking a 90 per cent cut in the emissions produced by electricity suppliers quickly runs into a complex and intractable problem. Unlike most of the other commodities we buy, which can be stockpiled and then delivered when we want them, electricity—being difficult and expensive to store—must be produced at the very moment of demand. If either too much or too little is generated, the voltage and frequency fluctuations will crash the country’s computers. If supply falls below a certain level, the whole system collapses. Not only must it be made when we want it, it must also be made in precisely the quantities we ask for.

Like other environmentalists, I would be happiest if all the electricity on the grid were supplied by means of renewable energy. But the wind does not blow, the waves do not rise and the sun does not shine on demand. In the uk, for example, electricity demand peaks between 5pm and 7pm on winter evenings. Those who advocate turning the uk into a solar economy would do well to take note of this. If we switched our entire electricity-generating network over to variable sources of renewable power, there would be a power cut whenever the wind or waves dropped. There are a few ‘non-variable’ renewable sources, such as biomass and geothermal energy, but their supply is limited (except in Iceland). Though the research on this issue is sparse, it appears reasonable to assume that a maximum of 50 per cent of any electricity supply can be produced by renewables. So where is the rest to come from?

Hamilton does not tell us. He tells us only what he does not like: carbon capture and storage. But if electricity users are not to be subject to repeated blackouts and equipment failure (which would make our proposals politically unfeasible), the question must be answered. Unless we discover a magical new source of fuel, it comes down to an unfortunate choice between nuclear power and burning fossil fuel with capture and storage.

I am less hostile to nuclear power than I used to be. I no longer believe that uranium is about to run out or that the safe disposal of nuclear waste is impossible. But every state which has sought to develop a nuclear weapons programme since the non-proliferation treaty was signed—Israel, South Africa, India, Pakistan, North Korea, Iraq and Iran—has done so by diverting resources from its civil nuclear programme. Like most of the world’s people, I would like to see complete multilateral nuclear disarmament. This is almost impossible while fissile materials are still processed for use in nuclear power stations. Eisenhower’s programme for beating the nuclear sword into the nuclear ploughshare has achieved just the opposite.

So I place nuclear power second on my list of preferences. My first choice is the burning of natural gas with carbon capture and storage, and my third the burning of coal with ccs. Hamilton calls carbon capture ‘a political ruse first and foremost’, but the real ruse is to pretend that no ugly technology has to be selected: that a modern economy can be run on carrot juice and wishful thinking. He argues that carbon and storage is ‘likely to be more expensive than existing alternatives’. Which alternatives does he have in mind? If you want to generate large quantities of non-variable, low-carbon electricity, there is only one. Is he quietly endorsing nuclear power? If so, he should tell us, and be bold enough to take some of the flak that anyone prepared to make this tough choice attracts.

I have often noticed a hostility among environmentalists to technological solutions that permit industrial processes to continue. I cannot help wondering whether this accounts for Hamilton’s preference for my chapter on aviation, in which I discover that there is no technological answer to the problem, over my chapters on housing, electricity, heat and land transport, in which I find that there are solutions.

Death and taxes

Now I must enter the real shark pool: the economics of climate change. It would be polite to say that they are uncertain, more accurate to say that in most cases they are bogus. The calculations Stern uses, for example, are nonsensical. On one side of the equation are the costs of preventing climate change, most of which take the form of investments in new technologies and disinvestments from old ones. These are quite easily quantified. On the other side are the costs of climate change. Some of these are financial—food prices could rise, sea walls will need to be built. But most of them are costs which have hitherto been regarded as incalculable: the destruction of ecosystems and human communities; the displacement of people from their homes; disease and death. These are all thrown together by Sir Nicholas with a formula he calls ‘equivalent to a reduction in consumption’, to which he then attaches a price. The global disaster unleashed by a 5–6° rise in temperature is ‘equivalent to a reduction in consumption’ of 5–20 per cent.

In what way is it equivalent? It is true that as people begin to starve they will consume less; when they die they cease to consume altogether. I can accept that a unit of measurement allowing us to compare the human costs of different spending decisions might be necessary. But Stern’s unit—a reduction in consumption—incorporates everything from the price of eggs to the pain of bereavement. He then translates it into a ‘social cost of carbon’, measured in dollars. He has, in other words, put a price on human life. Worse still, he has ensured that this price is lost among the other prices: when we read that the ‘social cost of carbon’ is $30 a tonne, we don’t know—unless we read the whole report—how much of this is made of human lives.

This methodology leads to a disastrous consequence, unintended but surely obvious. Stern’s report shows that the dollar losses from failing to prevent a high degree of global warming outweigh the dollar savings arising from not taking action. It therefore makes economic sense to try to prevent runaway climate change. But what if the result had been different? What if he had discovered that the profits accruing from burning more fossil fuels exceeded the social cost of carbon? We would then find that it makes economic sense to kill people.

Ridiculous as this sounds, it was, in effect, the conclusion of another report commissioned by the uk Treasury, written by the former chief executive of British Airways, Sir Rod Eddington. [8] Asked to advise the government on the links between transport and the uk’s economic growth, Eddington found that even when the costs of climate change, as calculated by Stern, are taken into account, the total costs of expanding the uk’s airports and road networks are lower than the amount of money to be made. Though he never spelt it out in these terms (I can find no evidence in his report that he has even understood the implications), Eddington discovered that it makes economic sense for other people—mostly Africans and Asians—to die in order that we in the developed world can travel more.

So when I mock the Department of Transport’s suggestion that the aviation industry should ‘pay the external costs its activities impose on society at large’ [9] by asking whether a steward should be sacrificed every time someone in Ethiopia dies of hunger, I do not think it is fair to call this a cheap shot. It is a deeply serious point. Like Stern and Eddington, the Department appears to believe that it can cost human life, and that this cost can be discharged by paying a certain sum in pounds or euros. I find this formula both fanciful and repugnant.

The aesthetic fallacy

Hamilton misrepresents the reasons I give for choosing one system of financial incentives over its competitors. I do not argue that ‘the European Emissions Trading Scheme is flawed because it allows polluters to avoid cutting their carbon emissions, by paying others to cut theirs’. I believe that trade of this kind is necessary if initial cuts are to be expedited. I argue that it is flawed because it is an act of enclosure. By handing out CO2 emissions permits, free of charge, to the European companies that pollute most, it ensured not only that the polluter was paid, but also that something which belongs to all of us—the right, within the system, to produce a certain amount of carbon dioxide—was given to the corporations.

I favour carbon rationing because it is a much fairer scheme: it allocates an equal entitlement to pollute to all people. One plausible scheme would ration 40 per cent of the national carbon target equally between citizens, purely for buying fuel and electricity. The other 60 per cent would be auctioned to companies for the same purpose, and all allocations would be tradeable. [10] Those who use less than their entitlement can sell the surplus to those who use more. As, by and large, the poor use less energy than the rich, it is likely to result in a redistribution of wealth. Energy taxes, by contrast, hit the poor hardest. It is true, as Hamilton contends, that this proposal ‘would again allow rich lifestyles to continue, largely unimpeded’. But my scheme for tackling climate change has only one purpose: to tackle climate change. It must be fair and progressive, because that is what would make it politically plausible. But it is not an attempt at social engineering. Let us hammer the rich by other means, but let us not confuse this programme with an attempt to cut carbon emissions. Fighting global warming is hard enough already.

Is it true that I over-emphasize people’s failure to do more to reduce their own greenhouse gas emissions? I think, if anything, I understate it. Even if I were to strip out the occasional flights I take—hypocritically or paradoxically, depending on your point of view—in order to speak about climate change in other countries, and even though I cycle and take the train, my own emissions are three or four times higher than the sustainable level. And I do better than most environmentalists. The middle-class greens I know still fly to the Canaries for their holidays. One environmentalist flies from the uk to Thailand to have his colon irrigated. Others drive ancient Volvos or sporty convertibles. Some of them have not even bothered to replace their incandescent light-bulbs. We are all stinking hypocrites.

It does not matter whether we burn fossil fuels with malice or with love. As far as the atmosphere is concerned, it is not concerned. It is a collection of gases. Either we contribute to the total volume of some of these gases or we do not. What I see among most ‘caring’ people is mere tokenism. They might buy eco-friendly washing-up liquid and organic cotton pyjamas, but they still consume as much fossil fuel as their incomes allow. This is why we require a total cap on national carbon emissions, and a system—such as carbon rationing—for distributing them. Hamilton describes this analysis as ‘holier-than-thou moralizing’. I see it as confronting some uncomfortable truths.

I do not mean to sound rigid. But the constraints—technical, economic, social and political—which affect our ability to crack this problem are tight. We cannot afford to accommodate special interests and other agendas. We must not succumb, as many environmentalists do, to the aesthetic fallacy: choosing those solutions which appeal to their tastes and beliefs, rather than those which work best. Nor should we extrapolate from our own experience. The environmental press is swarming with people (most of whom live alone) who claim to have reduced their own emissions to the desired level, then demand that everyone else follow their example—unaware that self-enforced abstinence is both ineffective and, for most people, unattractive.

Except for when he rejects carbon capture and storage, I do not accuse Hamilton of any of this. His contribution to our understanding of environmental politics has been felt all over the world, and his essay enhances our understanding of the problem. To identify the best means of preventing runaway climate change, our proposals and methods must be debated fiercely. Our criticisms of unfeasible solutions should be severe. But we have so little time. 

---

 

[1] Frank Rijsberman and Robert Swart, eds, Targets and Indicators of Climatic Change: Report of Working Group II of the Advisory Group on Greenhouse Gases, Stockholm 1990.

[2] Council of the European Union, Information note 7242/05, 11 March 2005.

[3] These projections are taken from the Meteorological Office, International Symposium on the Stabilization of Greenhouse Gases, April 2005, table 3: ‘Major Impacts of Climate Change on the Earth System’; Sir Nicholas Stern, The Economics of Climate Change, Cambridge 2006; the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, Climate Change 2007: The Physical Science Basis, February 2007.

[4] Fred Pearce, ‘Climate warning as Siberia melts’, New Scientist, 11 August 2005.

[5] Stern, Economics of Climate Change, pp. iii, 295.

[6] Sir David King, speech to the ‘Decarbonizing the uk’ conference, Westminster, 21 September 2005.

[7] Nathan Rive et al, ‘To what extent can a long-term temperature target guide near-term climate change commitments?’, Climatic Change, vol. 82, nos 3–4 (2007), pp. 373–91, Table 1.

[8] hm Treasury, The Eddington Transport Study, December 2006.

[9] Department for Transport White Paper, The Future of Air Transport, December 2003, p. 10.

[10] Devised by Mayer Hillman and refined by David Fleming; see Heat, p. 45. 
 

Fear of Climate Change: A rejoinder to George Monbiot

Clive Hamilton

In his reply to my recent review essay,1 George Monbiot chastises me for apparently

arguing that aiming to prevent the global mean temperature from rising more than two

degrees above the long term level is going too far. He then makes the case, citing

various credible sources, that a two-degree target is essential to avoid some of the worst

effects of climate change, that it is ‘the only target worth setting’.

As a commentator who has for some years pressed hard for more aggressive targets than

consensus science and political caution has allowed, I feel a little embarrassed that my

words have been interpreted this way, as if I were calling for less forthright action at a

time when every reasonable person should be calling for the alarms bells to be rung

more loudly.

Although my words were open to misinterpretation, my challenge was not about the

science of warming but the political value of Monbiot’s proposal to cut Britain’s

emissions by 90 per cent by 2030. Although it may be the path required to achieve a

two degree target, if matched by all other rich countries and as part of the global target

of a 60 per cent cut by 2030, advocating such a program of cuts is indeed politically

aggressive and audacious.

Before expanding on this, let me comment first on the science that sets the scene for the

politics. Monbiot argues that we must aim to limit the mean temperature increase to two

degrees. Among serious scientists there is not much doubt about this. Over the last

several years, as we have understood more about the implications of warming, the

consequences of even a two-degree warming have shifting from worrying to alarming.

Monbiot says the two-degree target is likely to be met if we constrain the increase in the

concentration of greenhouse gases to 440 ppm of carbon dioxide equivalent (CO2-e),

which is equivalent to around 400 ppm of CO2 alone. He argues that this will require a

reduction in global emissions of 60 per cent below current levels by 2030 which, by any

fair measure, means a reduction of emissions in rich countries of 90 per cent below

current levels by 2030. Monbiot’s choice of 2030 rather than 2050 is the contentious

issue.

In his reply, Monbiot challenges my claim that a 60 per cent global cut by 2030 is far

beyond that proposed by anyone else by referring to a paper that calls for a cut of 80 per

cent by 2050. Given the nature of the energy infrastructure, not to mention political

sclerosis, four decades provide much more scope for far-reaching change than the next

two. Eighty per cent by 2050 is far more achievable than 60 per cent by 2030.

While it is true that many have acknowledged the need to stabilise at around 440 ppm of

CO2 and recognised that this will require global cuts in annual emissions of 60 per cent,

no one as far as I know has argued that this will require 90 per cent cuts by 2030. The

most aggressive official target is perhaps the British Government’s commitment to cut

by 60 per cent below 1990 levels by 2050 and 30 per cent by 2020. The EU has

1 ‘Building on Kyoto’, New Left Review, 45 May/June 2007. George Monbiot, ‘Environmental feedback”,

in the same issue.

2

committed to a 20 per cent cut by 2020, with the option of scaling up to 30 per cent if

other countries follow. Germany has committed to a 40 per cent cut on 1990 levels by

2020, which represents a bigger percentage cut on current levels.

Whatever its scientific merits, a 90 per cent cut in emissions in around half the time

proposed by anyone else is a very radical target indeed.

This does not make Monbiot wrong on the science. Indeed, he may not have gone far

enough. In June the journal Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics carried a paper by

James Hansen and others clarifying the question of what is dangerous human-induced

climate change.2 They concluded that an additional warming of 1ºC above the level in

2000 will have effects that ‘may be highly disruptive’, using expected sea-level rise as

the best indicator of danger. This means a mean temperature increase of around 1.7ºC

above the pre-industrial average rather than the 2ºC now commonly cited. The analysis

suggests that this ‘tipping point’ is almost locked in. They acknowledge that avoiding

this danger point is ‘still technically feasible’.

Even more alarmingly, the following statement is buried in the Fourth Assessment

Report of the IPCC’s Working Group I:

Stabilisation of atmospheric greenhouse gases below about 400 ppm CO2

equivalent is required to keep the global temperature increase likely less than

2ºC above pre-industrial temperature (Knutti et al., 2005).3

A concentration target of 400 ppm CO2-e equates to a target of around 350-375 of CO2.

The current concentration is 380 ppm. In short, we are already past the two degree

threshold, and will without question go well beyond it. Even three degrees is looking

very hard to avoid.

Very few people, even among environmentalists, have truly faced up to what the

science is telling us. Those who have cannot shake off a profound fear for the future and

lead lives blighted by this knowledge.

The question is: how do we respond? Monbiot has written Heat. At the core of the

book’s argument is a judgement about what is possible technically, economically and

politically. He believes that 90 per cent by 2030 ‘is just within the realm of political

possibility’. Although his response to my review confined itself entirely to the scientific

aspects of the 90 per cent target (which I do not dispute), he is in fact making a

judgement as a political scientist. Most of Heat is devoted to attempting to demonstrate

the technical and economic feasibility of his proposals. He concedes at various places

that it is a close run thing, and that even he, with the best of motives, doubted that it

could be done. He concedes that his scheme is ‘extremely challenging’ (p. 203).

It is therefore understandable why Monbiot is prone to look favourably on some

technological solutions that are risky. As well as the technical risks, there are political

dangers in advocating some of these. I was taken aback at Monbiot’s endorsement of

carbon capture and storage because, in my part of the world, CCS has been advocated

2 James Hanson et al., ‘Dangerous human-made interference with climate: a GISS modelE study’,

Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics, 7, 2287-2312, 2007.

3 IPCC, Report of Working Group I of the IPCC, 2007. p. 828

http://ipcc-wg1.ucar.edu/wg1/Report/AR4WG1_Pub_Ch10.pdf

3

not as a means of reducing carbon emissions but as a means of not reducing carbon

emissions. In other words, CCS is the excuse du jour for delaying action; having given

up attempting to deny the science, the coal lobby and its political supporters have

directed attention and funding to CCS. Even its advocates concede that CCS could not

make a significant difference to global emissions for 15 or 20 years, yet political

supporters of CCS have used it as a reason to withdraw support for the existing

technologies that can cut emissions sharply now. A time may come when we must

embrace CCS as part of an emergency response, but as long as it is used to avoid rapid

adoption of energy efficiency, renewables and natural gas we should avoid giving

uncritical endorsement to the coal industry’s get-out-of-jail-free card.

Support for nuclear energy also has political risks but they seem to me to lie not in

doubts about its capacity to make a major contribution to cutting emissions but in the

huge legacy of suspicion left by 30 years of anti-nuclear campaigning. Perhaps fear of a

back-lash from this popular movement is one of the factors that prevents

environmentalists such as Monbiot and myself from endorsing expansion of nuclear

power. Of course, we are thoroughly familiar with the dangers of nuclear power, but as

the evidence of the likely impacts of climate change becomes more and more

frightening, the dangers of nuclear power shrink by comparison.

This then is my essential worry about Heat; Monbiot spends too much time assessing

what is technically feasible and too little on what is politically possible. I guess like

most of his readers, I look to Monbiot for political insight and guidance, where he has a

proven record, rather than technical analysis, where his expertise is more limited.

There is little assessment in Heat of the political feasibility of what the author proposes,

including the conditions that would need to be met. There are, however, a number of

observations in the book that make the politics of his scheme seem impossible - the

power of the fossil fuel lobby, the weakness of existing institutions (including the Kyoto

Protocol), diplomatic fissures, the cravenness of politicians and the unwillingness of the

public to face up to the reality of climate change.

I suggest that to achieve the objective of a 60 per cent cut by 2030, with 90 per cent in

rich countries, the following conditions would be necessary (but by no means

sufficient).

The election in all major democratic nations of governments wholly committed

to dramatic cuts in emissions and resolved to over-ride objections from sectional

interests. The adoption of similar commitments by governments in major nations

with authoritarian systems is also necessary.

A commitment from all rich countries to build no more coal-fired power plants

unless they can be constructed to guarantee capture of carbon dioxide from their

emissions. Many existing plants would need to be retired early.

The same commitment would need to be made within a few years by China,

India, Brazil and other major developing countries.

The actions required in each country could occur only with an international

legally binding framework to coordinate all nations in the emission cutting

4

process. A system built on the Kyoto Protocol is the only feasible system within

sight.

All of this must be achieved within the next 20 years. Monbiot suggests (p. 98) that it

could happen if governments adopted a war footing, a stance that would need to be

adopted by all major governments within the next few years at the latest.

In my judgement, and it is nothing more than that, the likelihood of all of these events

converging in a period sufficiently short to achieve the Monbiot target is zero. On the

other hand, it is reasonable to imagine that these changes could occur in time to achieve

the target of a global emissions cut of 60 per cent (with 90 per cent in rich countries) by

2050. Dramatic changes in weather patterns in the 2010s and 2020s may see the world

shift to the war footing needed. But I cannot imagine them happening with sufficient

urgency to achieve the target by 2030.

Of course, none of this means that Monbiot is wrong in setting and advocating his

target. Historically, groups and individuals have frequently advocated goals that are

unachievable because they drag the debate in the right direction. But it is worth posing

the question of whether it is useful to advocate something that is unattainable. Are we

not giving false hope? Is it not better to face up to the magnitude of what will befall the

world? Has Monbiot, by advocating a set of proposals that is manifestly unachievable,

dealt himself out of the serious policy debate? I do not know the answers to these

questions. In my own work I am constantly trying to assess how far I can go and still

have an impact.

These questions concern the role of the public intellectual, the true, if less than

transparent, theme of my review essay. It seems to me that the public intellectual can

serve at least three functions:

1. Expose injustice, cant, hypocrisy, dishonesty and corruption, especially among

the powerful;

2. Provide evidence and arguments to advance a point of view and undermine the

arguments of the opposition; and

3. Inspire and rally one’s readers to act.

Ostensibly, the main purpose of Heat was the second, to demonstrate that we can

achieve emission cuts deep enough to avoid dangerous climate change. Although an

admirable goal, in my opinion Monbiot has not succeeded in this. There are dashes of

the first function, which to my mind provide the most powerful chapters (those on the

denialists and the aviation industry). Perhaps too, particularly in the last chapter, he

wanted to inspire his readers to act. I hope he achieves that goal, for there is nothing

more dispiriting in modern life than the contrast between the fearful projections of the

climate scientists and the torpor of the general public. There is an old German adage:

‘Things whose existence is not morally possible cannot exist’. If the scientists are right,

the consequences of a three-degree increase in global temperature are almost too

horrible to contemplate, but contemplate them we must.

5 July 2007