February 8, 2019--Climate

The one thing I am incapable of reading and writing about is the planet's perilously changing climate.

I pride myself on my ability to identify and solve problems. I made a long career doing just that from the City University of New York to New York University to the Ford Foundation.

But about the climate I able to offer only a sense of hopeless despair. No solutions. Therefore, I run from the subject.

Not proud of myself, I have difficulty following or participating in global warming discussions. I confess this means I've given up hope that there are ways to bring about meaningful remediation. Though I know it is critical that we urgently do all we can to try.

What can one think, more, what can one do when greeted as readers were two days ago by a headline and story in the "New York Times" that the "'Climate Crisis' May Melt Most Himalayan Glaciers by 2100"?

I ignored my own practice of running from the subject and read how at least a third of these glaciers will melt by the end of the century, even "if the world's most ambitious climate change targets are met."

If these goals are not met (and most experts agree this seems likely) by 2100 the world's highest mountain range will lose two-thirds of its glaciers.

This would mean that the Himalayas could heat up by 8 degrees Fahrenheit by century's end, bringing "radical disruptions to the food and water supplies, and mass population displacement."

"Normal" Himalayan glacier melt, I read, provides water to about a quarter of the world's population.

And then yesterday, the "Times" in an above-the-fold front-page graph and story about rising global temperatures, reported that 2018 was the fourth hottest year since 1880.

Though I will be long gone, all I can think about is what kind of a world I am participating in bequeathing to my one-year-old niece. 

June 10, 2016--Always Talk To Strangers: One Brief Moment

From July 19, 2006--

The sun was setting over the Tetons.  A small crowd of visitors with drinks in hand gathered outside the Jackson Lake Lodge to watch the sun roll behind those magnificent mountains before dropping off the edge of the earth and plunging us all into instant darkness and chilling breezes.

“I take a lot of pictures but never develop any.”  Rona and I were snapped out of our contemplative end-of-day reverie by a mountain of a man with a camera hanging from his neck that was so huge with its protruding lens that only his awesome bulk could support it.  He appeared to be from the middle of the country, likely a farmer, and from his tractor we imagined he had seen enough sunsets in his life to satisfy him.  What was so special about another even in a spectacular place such as this? 

Being from New York City though, where at best there are only glimpses of the sky, we of course could never get enough of these sunsets and are thus additionally expert at extracting their full meaning from every degree of the sun’s decline.  

Thus, we ignored him.

But he persisted, “I’ve been coming here ever year since 1987.  Sometimes twice a year.  Me and the Mrs. drive our RV here all the way from Georgia, where we’re from.”   

Resisting being brought back to the mundane, I tried half-turning my back to him.  Rona peered into her glass of sweet Vermouth, playing with the ice. 

“You see my son over there?" he persisted, "He was three the first time we came here.  He also had a camera.  He'd spend three whole days taking pictures and carefully advancing the film.  They still used film back then.  When we were about to leave he took the film out of the camera and threw it in the trash.  In one of them cans right there.  My wife, Rosie, she was fit to be tied and while she rummaged around in the trash looking for the film I asked Billy, he's the tall one there by the bench, why he did that.  Exasperated, he said to me, ‘Dad, I’m done taking those pictures.’ He was annoyed why I was asking about it.  He told us just taking the pictures was what was important to him.  Not the pictures themselves.  You see he knew to me at that time it was the pictures themselves that were important."

That got our attention.  We’re always interested in anything that promised something new and what he was saying about what was important to each of them seemed to promise that.  I felt I had mischaracterized him. Made invalid assumptions based on how he looked. So I asked, “Then what keeps bringing the three of you back here every year?" I smiled, "It’s a long drive.”

“Well, you see I’m a forester, a freelance one, and I come here to check on this place.  To see how things are changing.  And they are.  No doubt 'bout that.  And I don’t mean the result of them fires up in Yellowstone.  That’s a part of nature.  And good at that.  It’s the other thing that worries me.”

“The ‘other thing?’”

“You know what the scientists have been saying.  I’ll show you what I mean.  Look over there at Mount Moran.  You see that glacier over there?”  We looked across Jackson Lake and nodded.  “Well, when I started trekking out here that glacier was twice the size it is now.  Don’t take me for a tree-hugger.  That I’m not.  But it seems to me that we have this one brief moment."

"I'm not sure I'm following thou," I said.

"For me it’s almost over, my heart’s not been right, but for Billy over there, who’s only twenty-two, I’m worried.  You know, in the past it was religious fanatics and cult leaders who predicted the end of the world was coming.  They even came up with dates for that.  Of course it never happened.  Not yet anyway. But what’s different now is that we have every scientist agreeing that things are not heading in a good direction for us.  So that’s why I keep my eye on that glacier.”

Though understanding, this was not a lesson we had come all this way to hear--we wanted to just take things in--so I changed the subject, “You mentioned that you do forestry work freelance.  I always assumed that guys in your field all worked for the government.”

“Well, that’s true.  Everyone else I went to school with does work for the Forestry Service or some other government agency.  I, though, saw a niche for myself so I’ve been doin' it on my own.”

“How’s that?  How does that work?”

He suddenly turned silent; but since he started this I pressed him New-York style, “You worked for developers or something?”

After a moment he shrugged and said, “Sort of like that.”  I held up to give him a minute.  It was clear that he really didn’t want to talk about this.  But he added, “You’ve driven around this area, right?”

“Yes, just yesterday and today through eastern Washington and then across the panhandle of Idaho to get here.”

“And what did you see?”

“Most of it was amazingly beautiful,” Rona said, “We followed the Clearwater River for more than 200 miles.”

“And?”

We didn’t get where he was going with this so we just looked back at him.  He hitched his pants up over that remarkable belly, “Did you see all those developments closing in?”  We nodded again.

He didn’t answer his own question.  He just stood there staring off at Mount Moran. 

Then he looked around to catch Rosie’s eye, she had been circling us,  “There she is.  I better get going before I catch hell.  Nice talkin’ to you. But one more thing.”


"Yeah?" 


"Like you, Billy just wants to take it one moment at a time. Can't really blame him, considering." He gestured across the lake, "So that's what's going on with him and the camera. He knows what's happening out there and prefers not to make a record of it. What else can I tell you?" He took a deep breath, and from deep within himself said, "There is one last thing before I go."


"What's that?"


"I'm just carrying around this here camera. Haven't taken a picture with it the past three years."   

He laughed and with that was gone.

May 17, 2106--Midcoast: Climate Refugees

A day before heading out, a friend from Maine called to "alert" us to "big changes."

Immediately, this made me anxious. One thing I love about Maine is that it doesn't change very much.

"In what way?" I asked not really wanting to hear what he had to say.

"The weather."

Puzzled, I asked, "You mean black fly season?"

"That never changes. No, I mean the climate."

I really didn't want to talk with him about this. Not for a few days anyway until we are settled in and calmed down. Then I'll be better prepared for his continuing concerns about climate change. It's another one of things that never changes in Maine--his going on and on about the climate.

I know, I know. But time in Maine is supposed to be relatively carefree for us. But, I know.

In spite of myself, with an edge, I asked, "So what is it now?"

"You know about the big forest fires up in Alberta?"

"Sure. But what does that have to do with . . . ?"

"Everything. If you look at the globe. I mean a map of the world in global form, not the flat projections, you'll see that there's a sub-arctic belt of forests that goes all the way from northern Europe and Russia through Canada and then arcs over the northern-most part of Maine."

"And?"

"And that means that as things warm and dry all of these forests are in peril. They could ignite in a global conflagration."

"Now that's a happy picture."

"Have you noticed when you look on the Internet at the Intellicast website, the one I recommended you use when you're up here--I find it to be most accurate--that there have been a lot of weather alerts posted?"

"Yes, for windy conditions and some occasional coastal flooding warnings. When there's a nor'easter."

"There are the usual number of those but then this year for the first time in a long while there have been alerts about the danger of forest fires. When we have these it's more typically later in the summer, not after a winter of snowfall and melt."

"And this year it didn't snow that much. I noticed that."

"I'm not talking about changes in the weather but in the larger climate. That's what has me worried about what's going on in western Canada."

"I can see that." By then he had me fully engaged. Joining in, I said, "I recently read that if the global climate heats up by only four degrees there will be catastrophic consequences. Including, from the map I saw, to the coast of Maine. Hopefully I'll be long dead, but where our house is might become part of the flood plain. At the moment, though, we're right on the coast but because of water levels are not required to have flood insurance."

"At the moment. That says it all. And, I read," my friend continued, "that when this happens, there will be the first big wave of climate refugees. In the northern half of the Western Hemisphere, much of it to northern Canada where up to 100 million are anticipated. Now, the population of Canada is only 30 million."

"I read that too," I said.

"Which brings me back to Maine."

"Because?"

"Because we too should expect millions of refugees from the lower 48 states."

"Are you sensing that already?"

"Maybe a trickle. Young families from south of here who are relocating to farms just in from the coast. There was an article in the local paper about that. About who's moving here and for what reasons. Quite a few apparently for climate-change reasons."

"So what are you recommending?" I was finding this depressing and wanted to get back to packing up.

"Learn to grow beans, put in a few hundred gallons of water, get a gun, and make sure you have lots of ammo."

"That's it?"

"Well, you asked."

October 28, 2015--Fahrenheit 120

"Did you see the piece in the New York Times about a study that concludes that by the year 2100, only eighty-five years from now, areas of the Persian Gulf will be so hot and humid that being outdoors for just a few hours for most people would be deadly?"

Jeff, who mentioned this, is a sober citizen, not prone to being an alarmist. He not a Prepper waiting for a natural apocalypse with a basement full of dried beans, bottled water, and gold coins.

"The study is by a couple of real experts, one from MIT, the other from Loyola Marymount in LA."

"I'm far from an authority on the subject," I said, "But the last I heard we wouldn't get to that dangerous point for another 200 years. Not that that's comforting, though thankfully I'll be long gone. Even Rona as well."

"Please leave me out of this doom and gloom talk," she said, "I'm just trying to get through the days."

"They claim that the deadly weather is largely caused by climate change and that humans are making it worse by the way we live and consume energy."

"If I'm right about recalling the 200 year timetable, why are they now saying we have only 85 years?"

"Though temperatures will routinely hit, 120, it will be life threatening primarily because of the accelerating rise in humidity around the Gulf. That's a new perception. Everyone has been focusing on temperature. The elevated humidity won't allow perspiration to evaporate and thus our bodies will not be able to cool themselves. This will put a deadly strain on the heart and . . ."

"Spare me, please," Rona said, cutting us off, "If you don't mind, pass me the Portland paper. They have a decent gossip column. Not Page Six, but still pretty good."

"I think we're focusing on the wrong thing," Jeff pushed ahead.

"Meaning?"

"That the Earth's problem is only secondarily about our use of fossil fuels. The real problem is population growth."

"Go on. I think I agree with you."

"Is the Earth really bountiful enough for the current seven billion people? Not only do we have a carbon problem but because of the size of the population we also have a water problem, a protein problem, a habitation problem, an ecological problem, an assets problem, a crime and terrorism problem. I could go on. But my point remains--we're focused on the wrong thing. Our use of energy is a big problem, don't get me wrong, but it pales in comparison to the population problem."

Rona remained buried in the paper.

"If you think political people here are unwilling to confront the science that proves human contributions to climate change, imagine the kind of discussion, non-discussions, we'd have about population control--contraception, abortion, family planning, limiting the number of children permitted. All very hot-button social issues."

"As you know, it's not my inclination to be pessimistic," Jeff raced on, "but it's hard to remain optimistic when faced with all these global issues."

"A year or so ago," I said, "I wrote a piece about population, trying to make a version of the same point. Anecdotally, I mentioned how during my lifetime the population of the United States nearly tripled, up from about 125 million to about 330 million now."

"That's because you're 200 years old," Rona muttered without looking up.

"That's a powerful point," Jeff said, "What would happen if our population tripled again during the next 50-60  years? To about a billion? Forget for the moment the rest of the world. Do you think we could handle a billion people? My guess is we would have some of the same problems as much of Africa, India--totally polluted--and China--even worse."

"And then you're saying there's the Persian Gulf."

Rona looked up at us, "Let me read you this thing about the Kardashians. They're unbelievable."

Before I could say anything, Jeff said, " Please do. I need a little escape."

"Well, it says here that Khloe . . ."

May 14, 2014--Marco Rubio in 2016

According to a string of recent reports in the New York Times about climate change--

A large section of the mighty West Antarctica ice sheet has begun to fall apart and its continued melting now appears to be unstoppable, two groups of scientists reported. . . . If the findings hold up, they suggest that the melting could destabilize neighboring parts of the ice sheet and a rise in sea level of 10 feet or more may be unavoidable in coming centuries. 

These latest findings by NASA and other earth scientists appeared in Science magazine and Geophysical Research Letters.

When confronted with this evidence, Senator Marco Rubio, an almost-announced candidate for the 2016 Republican presidential nomination, said he does not "believe" this to be true, that he disagrees with the science, and most important to his political aspirations, does not "believe" that humans are responsible for climate change. To him and most other conservatives, climate is always changing. Thus, there is nothing new happening or to be concerned about.

This from a senator who represents Florida, half of which will disappear under water in coming decades.

I put "believe" in quotes not only because that is the word Rubio used repeatedly during a series of TV interviews on Sunday, but because it represents the heart of the political part of the problem--progressives cite scientific evidence when they argue that humans are in fact contributing to global warming while conservatives base their case on belief.

Rubio over and over again claimed that the science is either flawed or ideologically based. And just as often said he didn't "believe" it.

In his words--

I do not believe that human activity is causing these dramatic changes to our climate the way these scientists are portraying it. And I do not believe that the laws that they propose will do anything about it.

He did not cite any evidence that what we are seeing is a totally natural phenomenon and, irresponsibly, was not challenged by any of his interviewers to do so. He was simply allowed to get away with critiquing the scientific evidence without citing any contrary scientific evidence.

He did not cite even one study when making his case. I suppose if he knew enough to do so his anti-science Tea Party supporters would feel he had somehow gone over to the other side by citing even flawed science. Any science at all. They don't believe in science.

Nor was he asked, "What if you're wrong? How will you be able to look your grandchildren in the eye when later in the century their houses in south Florida will be literally underwater? When they ask you what you were doing when there was still time to do something?"

I suppose Senator Rubio, or Vice President Rubio, will say he still doesn't believe its happening.