Francesca Von Krauland

What Now? Reflecting on 2020

Francesca Von Krauland COVID-19, Global Future, Racial Justice December 19, 2020December 19, 20202020, business, future, pandemic, politics, social justice, sustainability

There are a few weeks left of 2020. They might take a few days, or perhaps another few months, to pass—time didn’t move quite logically this year. It seems like a lot of people just want to fast forward through to get to 2021, a year still full with the hope that the vaccine will bring everything back to normal. I’d like to make a counterproposal: what if instead of wishing away what was for most people a bizarre year, we stop for a moment and look back at it? And what if instead of wishing for a return to the normal, we embrace the good that comes of change?

2020 was the year of COVID, of race protests, of isolation, one of the most dramatic U.S. elections in living memory. It was the year of the unprecedented. The borders closed between European countries for the first time since the establishment of the European Union. The border between the U.S. and Europe closed for the first time ever—and seems to be staying that way. Everything we accepted as normal, the good and the bad, tore away to reveal a messy, imperfect world. It’s a dark planet, but even from space it glitters with the lights of all our cities, grids connecting billions of people’s lives and stories. Perhaps in this year’s darkness the lights shone even brighter, because there was so much good in 2020, too.

This year, global conflict became unavoidably personal for everyone. This article phrases it perfectly, “In some ways, the pandemic has been a dress rehearsal for the climate crisis. Human beings throughout the world have been called upon to embrace science, change their lifestyles and make sacrifices for the common good.” This year was about awareness—maybe that’s why Americans’ concern about the climate crisis rose from 44% to an all-time high of 60% this year. Perhaps they realized that it’s no coincidence emissions dropped 9% at the same time that travel and consumption slowed—the biggest yearly drop on record. Though emissions are expected to increase again next year, they still won’t be higher than any year since 1990. Yet another reason this year’s timeline feels off: in some ways we’ve been time traveling. In San Francisco, traffic levels across the Golden Gate Bridge fell to levels similar to the 1950s, resulting in coyotes wandering across. The drop in noise from our usually bustling cities caused a change in bird song: “While it might have seemed to human ears that bird song got louder, the sparrows actually sang more quietly,” explains Dr. Elizabeth Derryberry of the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.

We also moved forward in time, making huge and exciting progress toward the future of global energy, renewables. During shutdowns, with reduced demand for power, grid operators relied more on cheaper renewable energy sources, and almost 10% of electricity generation in most parts of the world were sourced from renewable energy sources. Denmark, already a leader in wind energy, just announced that it will stop providing licenses for oil exploration in the North Sea, preventing the extraction of about 150 million barrels of oil by 2050. The plan, which Climate and Energy Minister Dan Jorgensen announced as a historic step toward a fossil-free future that will “resonate around the world,” was created as an economic response to the pandemic.

So with the present as an exciting conglomeration of the future and past, all de-familiarized by the fact that we’re still living through it, I ask…now what? What does the future need to look like, across government, business, and society, to create a clean and just world? In the United States, leaders would do well to learn from Nordic countries, China and India, and Sub-Saharan Africa. President-elect Biden’s outline of some of his climate goals, including rejoining the Paris Agreement, is cause for hope, but the support of the judiciary, in addition to the executive and lawmakers, is necessary. Globally, a total of 1,587 cases of climate litigation have been brought between 1986 and mid-2020: 1,213 cases in the U.S. and 374 cases in 36 other countries and eight regional or international jurisdictions. These numbers are increasing rapidly, and according to this LSE study, “These cases play an important supporting role in ensuring the national implementation of international emissions-reduction commitments, the alignment of national laws with the Paris Agreement, and the enforcement of laws and policies relating to climate resilience.” This year, in the U.S., a federal judge ruled that the highly controversial Dakota Access Pipeline be shut down because federal officials failed to adequately analyze the project’s environmental impact. Also this year, in Portugal, six young people filed a lawsuit with the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, demanding accountability from 33 top-emitting countries for the climate crisis and that funds for economic restoration from the pandemic are spent in a way that ensures a rapid transition to renewable energy. While individual executive leadership is important, the role of other branches of government, and of international organizations, cannot be dismissed.

Change on a government level is infamously slow—passing progressive plans through multiple levels of bureaucracy and special interests can hardly be the only way to enact change, though it’s undoubtedly an important one. Businesses also have a role to play in ensuring a rapid transition to sustainability. From simplifying global supply chains to replacing physical structures with digital platforms, businesses occupy a unique position that enables not just rapid reaction to shifting norms but also the ability to spearhead change. One hundred companies are responsible for 71% of greenhouse gas emissions, and massive corporations must be accountable for their impact on the planet. In this area, there is good news. Walmart has cut 230 million metric tons of greenhouse gases out of its supply chain in the past three years, Uniliver vowed to replace the petrochemicals found in its detergents and household cleaners with renewable or recycled alternatives, Apple committed to becoming carbon neutral by 2030, and Lyft said 100% of its trips will be in electric vehicles within the decade. In the realm of startups and investors, a changing mindset is even more evident. Green startups are more common than ever, reimagining everything from how nitrogen fertilizer is created for global agriculture to how to simultaneously reduce food waste and hunger.

More than simply building back better, we need to build back equal, creating social change that reduces inequality as we focus on green growth. What a just transition entails varies by country, depending on the place’s particular culture, norms, and historical legacies, so there is no one solution to be prescribed in order to ensure equality and effective reform everywhere. But there is one commonality, one overarching goal we must keep in mind as the world pulls itself out of this chaotic year, and this unsustainable epoch of human history: what comes next is entirely up to us. The actions that governments, businesses, and individuals take now will affect everyone for generations to come. There is only one global climate future—the one whose foundations are being built by the decisions we make today.

Featured image from La Croix

Mental Health and Activism in 2020

Francesca Von Krauland COVID-19, Global Future, Racial Justice, Uncategorized December 16, 2020December 16, 2020activism, black lives matter, climate change, mental health, pandemic, racial justice

Earlier this year, the previous Climate Justice Now blogger, Dominique, wrote an article entitled Taking Care of Yourself and the Environment. As 2020 winds down, I think mental health, especially as it relates to activism, the events of this year, and racial factors, is an important topic to readdress. No one’s life was unaffected by COVID-19, but rather than giving into the despair that sometimes accompanies massive upheaval, many people focused on working toward positive change in areas they felt more control over—addressing racial injustice, making progress in the climate movement, and (particularly in the U.S.) political campaigning to ensure that we have forward-thinking leaders to guide us into the next year.

While admirable as a coping mechanism, and a necessary part of creating change to protect others in the future, those who engage in activism often experience adverse mental health effects because of their work. Often, the issues that people fight for are deeply personal, fueled by identity and trauma. Having such a stake in the outcome of one’s work makes for powerful activism, but also poses a threat to the emotional stability of those who engage in it. Activists are at a higher risk of developing PTSD and suicidal ideation when their identities are wrapped up in the causes they champion, and even those whose identities aren’t experience vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue, which also pose a risk. This organization points out that movements struggle to hold onto their most passionate, committed activists because of burnout. For people who make careers out of activism, the effects are magnified: the hectic schedules and low pay associated with activism can result in stress from familial tension, a lack of access to medical services, and anxiety about the future in regards to retirement or even homeownership. Those in the field emphasize that addressing activist mental health is essential to the protection of both individuals as activists and the movements themselves.

While mental health has long been an issue in relation to activism, this year, with the added stress of the pandemic and all of its associated disruptions, our collective mental state is perhaps more precarious than ever. The WHO explains, “Fear, worry, and stress are normal responses to perceived or real threats, and at times when we are faced with uncertainty or the unknown. So it is normal and understandable that people are experiencing fear in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic.” In addition to the very-valid fear of microscopic particles floating about, ready to send any non-mask wearing person to the ICU, there’s the added burden of isolation from all the joys of life that usually help with coping: seeing family and friends over a meal, working out at the gym, and browsing one’s favorite stores, for example. Added to this, the fact that unemployment is rising, many people have lost loved ones to the virus, and living situations are altered, the rise in anxiety, depression, substance abuse, insomnia, and other mental health conditions is unsurprising. To compound the issue, the pandemic has disrupted or halted critical mental health services in 93% of countries worldwide at a time when they are most needed. As Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, Director-General of the World Health Organization, urges, “World leaders must move fast and decisively to invest more in life-saving mental health programmes—during the pandemic and beyond.”

As the sun sets earlier and people retreat indoors, people who struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) are more at risk than ever of experiencing overwhelming symptoms of low energy, poor mood, and social withdrawal, among others. Dr. Desan of Yale Medicine states, ““We are seeing an obvious increase in the number of people seeking help for anxiety, and that’s not unreasonable. People are anxious about catching COVID-19, among other related issues,” Dr. Desan says. “This is a major mental health event.”

As with most other major issues, the collective suffers, but a particular segment of the population feels the effects most acutely. On the topics of both mental health as it relates to activism and mental health during the pandemic, while U.S. adults reported considerably elevated adverse mental health conditions this year, younger adults, racial/ethnic minorities, essential workers, and unpaid adult caregivers reported having experienced disproportionately worse mental health outcomes, according to the CDC. Particularly for people of color, who this year led the Black Lives Matter movement through emotional protests deeply tied to their identity, heightened rates of anxiety, depression, and suicide compound the pressures associated with the discrimination they protest in the first place, in addition to the pandemic, and the climate-related problems, and so much more. It’s no wonder that the term self-care was coined by black woman activist Audre Lorde when she famously said, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” After a year like 2020, everyone, but especially those most impacted, must look after themselves—starting with mental health.

The language we use for particularly successful activists—”champions” of a cause—reveals the underlying psychology that fuels the mental health problem in activist movements. Linda Sarsour, one of the founders of the Women’s March and a Muslim Palestinian-American activist, says, “Activists often become caricatures to people, for some even super-human. Many don’t realize the deep depression and anxiety we experience. The work is overwhelming and [it’s] compounded by not feeling safe and worrying about your life and the lives of your children.” Recognizing that caring deeply for the world is a kind of emotional labor that taxes the mind and body is a good first step in the direction of protecting one’s mental health. Next, mental health care needs to be made more accessible to everyone, especially those from marginalized communities who most need it. And finally, until then, the most powerful tools activists, and anyone struggling with mental health has, is self-care.

Dominique’s blog wisely recommends that people feeling overwhelmed spend time in nature, reach out to others, and “remember that anxiety is rooted in love for the people and places in your life.” I think that last one is particularly important—gratitude is perhaps the strongest cure for despair. It is a privilege to love something so deeply as to ache at its absence, its obscuring. Acknowledging that pain is often rooted in one’s ability to imagine better means that hurting and hoping go hand in hand. This is the power of language: we can rephrase the problem. 2020 changed almost everything for almost everyone. This is a time of opportunity, not of crisis. We’ve ripped the bandage off of a wounded world and it burns. The world in 2020 is a messy gash with still-drying blood, but without the bandage, we can imagine what the skin will feel like when it’s healed.

Healing, despite its poetry, is a science. The world will not heal with hope and imagination alone—certainly, those need to be there, along with despair at how things are now, but most of all, we need science. Thought and logic and clear-headedness drives movements. Science makes up vaccines and holds the solution to climate change. Logic battles the judgement we have for the parts of us that are struggling: what is more logical a reaction to the horrors of 2020 than to, in fact, feel horror? And then to acknowledge it, and then to channel the horror into yet more logic, that needed to solve the problem. All is not as it should be—but only because the work isn’t quite done yet. We’re getting there. Painfully, hopefully, and with science and gratitude.

Featured Image from AmGen

Intergenerational Movement Building

Francesca Von Krauland Global Future, Racial Justice, Uncategorized December 15, 2020December 15, 2020black lives matter, climate justice, history, march for our lives, multigenerational activism

Few individuals bring as much attention to the climate movement as Greta Thunberg, whose efforts have rallied children, lawmakers, and skeptics alike to the cause of tackling climate change. Though perhaps the best known young activist, Greta is far from the only student taking the lead in a cause. In fact, historically, young people have led the way for social change, working alongside professionals and older activists to overhaul problematic norms all over the world. Today, in movements like Black Lives Matter and Fridays for Future, multigenerational movement building is an effective and necessary goal to achieve lasting improvements.

Greta Thunberg, a Swedish teenager, has addressed both the U.S. Congress and the United Nations about taking drastic measures to address climate change. Despite bringing attention to a movement involving several million people, the Global Climate Strikes, Greta emphasizes, “I shouldn’t be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean.” Yet societal problems affect young people profoundly, and they can’t always wait until they’re older to do something about it. The lives of young black and indigenous activists are shaped daily by systemic forces far older than them, and they can’t afford to hope that their parents’ generation will make the changes that are so long overdue. As I discussed in my previous article, people of color are particularly impacted by climate change, and are therefore very active in the climate movement. Indigenous young people who protested at Standing Rock, Kanaka Maoli youth who defended land at Mauna Kea, and students in Flint, Michigan are just some of the children whose lives are at stake because of environmental threats.

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child states that every person under the age of 18 has the right to participate in the decision-making processes that impact them. Organizations like UNICEF work to give young people a platform to participate in climate action, hosting events like the 2019 United Nations Youth Climate Summit in New York City for activists to express their views in a public forum, but many young people actually founded their own organizations to spread their messages. For example, a youth group founded the Black Lives Matter Youth Vanguard to protect black children, particularly in schools, New Jersey teenager Anya Dillard founded Next Gen Come Up, an organization “dedicated to encouraging youth activism and community service through media and creativity,” and 18-year-old Sophie Ming organized large protests in Manhattan and founded the New York City Youth Collective to educate young people on issues related to the BLM movement. Some youth are even writing books to help other youth build the movement, such as Jamie Margolin’s Youth to Power: Your Voice and How to Use It. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of other young people working for justice every day, even and especially throughout this chaotic year of the pandemic.

Throughout history, social change has always been spearheaded not by those in power, like lawmakers and judges, but by visionaries too young to be constrained by outdated ideas of how things should be. In fact, Ben & Jerry’s (another reason to love their ice cream) created a succinct outline of global student activism within recent history, from the 1960 Greensboro Lunch Counter Sit-Ins to protest segregation, to the 1968 University Uprisings against government censorship in France and capitalist consumerism in Poland, to the Vietnam War protests of the ’60s and ’70s, to the Soweto Uprising of 1976 against South African Apartheid, to the Velvet Revolution in Prague to push the Communist party out of power after the fall of the Berlin Wall, to the 1989 Tiananmen Square pro-democracy protest in Beijing, to the 2010 Arab Spring, 2016 Dakota Access Pipeline Protests, and 2018 March for Our Lives against gun violence. The list includes movements led by college and, more recently, high school-aged people working to address the corruption, prejudice, and oppression that would limit their futures. It’s astounding that people so young could be so forward-thinking, but who better to envision a safer future than those who will live it?

Young activists are more likely to be flexible, think of the big picture, and use innovative means for campaigning, like social media, but without the support of adults who can actually implement changes, progress would still be years away. This is why it’s so important for older people to be involved with movements too—not only are they more likely to have wisdom to share on how to build and sustain social movements, they might also have the funds to fuel the movement, the expertise to guide its focus, and the wisdom to mentor young leaders, and protect them from the emotional exhaustion and physical threats sometimes tied to activist work. Movements today are not just intergenerational—they are also interdisciplinary. “The number of marchers is unprecedented, from different economic, ethnic, and racial groups—an awakening unlike any that I’ve seen on this Earth in over 70 years,” Bullard, a professor for urban planning and environmental policy, and activist, explains. “Today, the different movements are converging, and I think that convergence makes for greater potential for success.”

Movements also shape higher education, which in turn shapes the students who will then begin their careers with the goals of social and climate justice at the forefront of their minds. For example, Dr. Beverly Wright, a professor of sociology, trains leaders from historically black American universities in the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice. She founded the HBCU Climate Change Consortium and the HBCU-CBO Gulf Equity Consortium, where her students assisted Hurricane Katrina victims and researched climate impacts on vulnerable communities. She also took them to the COP21 in Paris to witness the negotiation of the Paris Climate Accord. Such programs might not exist if climate activism were not so widespread, and students exposed to these kinds of opportunities are more likely to continue to pursue work that centers on sustainability and climate justice. The field of environmental engineering is another example of the institutionalization of the progress of the climate movement; a relatively new field in higher education, environmental engineering focuses on the prevention, control, and remediation of hazards to the environment using engineering expertise. With the existence of such fields, a young person today could learn about climate change in school, become an activist with the support of adult mentors, study a relevant field in university, and then go on to become a scientist, lawmaker, businessperson, or other global shaper in a position to implement the changes he or she studied the need for. It’s a hopeful path, but just one of many that exists for young people today who care so deeply about the planet and the people on it.

It’s easy to see young activists as heroes—altruists and outliers to their age group. But the reality is that young people have always cared, because they’ve always had to—it’s a matter of survival. Perhaps the fact that activists are younger, high schoolers and even middle schoolers rather than young adults, is a sign that no one is protected from the stark realities of our warming planet—least of all those who will inherit it.

Featured image from Time

Racial and Climate Justice: Shared Goals

Francesca Von Krauland Global Future, Racial Justice, Uncategorized December 12, 2020December 12, 2020activism, black lives matter, climate justice, defund police, racial justice

Skimming headlines, it’s clear that a few issues dominated our collective headspace this year: the COVID-19 crisis, racial injustice in the United States, and the increasingly alarming problem of climate change. Written out, they seem like separate categories, like one could place a given newsworthy event within a single topical classification without acknowledging the existence of the others. Obviously, this is not the case. In a country (and world) in which people of color are disproportionately affected by both the changing climate and the pandemic, in addition to facing direct discrimination, the three problems are closely intertwined, so that the discussion of one necessarily links to another. The movements for racial justice and climate justice share goals, and the ways in which these aims can be achieved have considerable overlap as well. One of the most-discussed ways of addressing the racial violence in the U.S. this year can be summed up by the slogan “Defund the Police.” But what does that actually mean, and why could it be a step in the direction of both racial and climate justice?

The idea of “defunding the police” actually refers to the idea of reallocating police funding away from traditional law enforcement. Much of the violence making headlines this year—in addition to the violence that hasn’t always made headlines for many, many years before this one—is perpetrated by the police against the black community in the United States. American cities collectively spend $100 billion per year on policing, resulting in police departments with military-grade equipment, while education, housing, health care, and other essential programs suffer chronic underfunding, disproportionately effecting communities of color. By decreasing the police budget and funneling money toward these programs, communities would be strengthened and the potential for the police to abuse their power severely undercut.

The social benefit to such a policy is matched only by the environmental one. Money previously put towards enabling violence could instead support environmental initiatives. According to this report, “As the state faces a pandemic-driven budget crisis, the programs that cap-and-trade revenue funds—including climate and environmental justice programs, investing in jobs and climate mitigation in black and brown communities—could now be at risk.” Freeing up funding to support these initiatives would be essential both to continuing to combat climate change and to supporting people of color, directly and indirectly. The Black Lives Matter movement has long supported what it refers to as a policy of “Invest-Divest,” or investing in Black communities by divesting from the forces that oppress them, such as police, prisons, and fossil fuels. It’s a policy that other countries have adopted with success. Sweden’s criminal justice system emphasizes short prison sentences that actually reduce the rate of reoffending. It focuses on rehabilitation rather than punishment, unlike the American system. In the U.S., it’s well known that long prison sentences stunt disproportionately-black former inmates’ successful reintegration into society, but a lesser known impact of the jail system is the environmental damage it causes. Many prisons produce waste and emissions far above local and federal standards because of overcrowding, an issue exacerbated by the growing prison population and the length of their punishments. Clearly, a reform of the criminal justice system, to include defunding the police, addressing unfair sentencing, and reconceptualizing prisons, would have both social and environmental advantages.

People of color also disproportionately live near these polluting prisons, in addition to other facilities emitting harmful pollutants. This study finds that people in poverty are exposed to greater quantities of fine particulate matter—including automobile fumes, smog, soot, oil smoke, ash, and construction dust, which are carcinogens—than people living above the poverty line, because they are much more likely to live near polluters. This exposure causes lung conditions, heart attacks, asthma, low birth weights, high blood pressure, and premature deaths, conditions statistically linked to poorer, nonwhite populations. The EPA states that decreasing the production of these particles and regulating emissions would directly benefit these populations—another example of the overlapping aims of the climate and racial justice movements.

The idea of combining the aims of the two movements is nothing new. Just as feminists support climate activism, black activists have drawn up their own version of the Green New Deal and Build Back Equal, which places racial and climate justices’ considerable overlap at the center of their goals. In 1966, the Freedom Budget by A. Philip Randolph and Bayard Rustin planned for a ten year program that would address employment, wages, health care, and clean air, with the aim of economic justice. Even then, the condition of the environment was a priority for the nation’s future—an essential component of ensuring a good standard of living for black and white Americans alike. This is a goal that has only become more urgent as climate change—and racial violence—worsens. Perhaps 2020 can be the year that movements converged, and racial justice became the goal of climate activists, and climate justice that of racial activists, because, after all, black or white, we need to make sure our shared future is green.

Featured image from Climate X Change

What Biden Means for Our Climate Future

Francesca Von Krauland Global Future December 9, 2020December 17, 2020biden, climate, election, emissions

President-elect Biden will take office in January, ushering out the Trump administration’s four years that focused on anything but the climate. Biden plans to invest in green energy and has vowed to reenter the Paris Climate Agreement, which has been adopted by almost every nation, with the goal of addressing climate change. The U.S., which produces 15% of the world’s CO2 emissions, can drastically alter the way it fights climate change, but how will this impact the rest of the world?

It is essential to recognize the role that the U.S. plays in the global climate. The United States has the highest cumulative carbon emissions since 1750, at almost 400Gt of CO2. This is almost twice that of China, which stands at just over 210Gt of CO2. While these shocking numbers are over a long time, it remains true that the U.S. must bear the responsibility of repairing the damage done. There was progress in the fight against climate change, as emissions fell over 12% between 2005 and 2017, but in 2018 and 2019, emissions were once again on the rise.

This regression was furthered when the U.S. officially left the Paris Climate Agreement on November 4, 2020. Trump announced this intention in 2017 when he said that the agreement would harm the American economy and didn’t fit into his America First economic model. The impacts of leaving the Paris Climate Agreement would be significant on a global scale, not just due to the U.S.’s high levels of carbon emissions. Luke Kemp, of the Australian National University’s Fenner School of Environment and Society, provides a different perspective, as he stated that leaving the agreement would not significantly change the U.S.’s carbon emissions. This is because countries set their own targets for emission levels, and therefore can choose whether or not to work to meet those targets. For Kemp, a more concerning result of the U.S.’s withdrawal from the agreement is the lack of money directed into the U.N.’s Green Climate Fund, which supports developing countries in the fight against climate change.

Biden has promised to rejoin the Green Climate Fund when he takes office, and funds for this are not included within his $2 trillion budget for climate action. The U.S. still has over $2 billion promised (in 2014!), but not yet paid, to the Green Climate Fund. Many countries have doubled their promised contributions, and while it is not yet clear whether the U.S. will do the same, Biden has pledged to pay the $2 billion to the Green Climate Fund.

Reentering the Paris Climate Agreement will be relatively simple for Biden, as the U.S. would need to notify the UN and then pledge to reduce emissions. While this is straightforward, the work to actually keep that pledge will be difficult and expensive. The ambitious climate plan that Biden has released includes “an emissions-free electric grid in 15 years, and a target of net-zero emissions by 2050.” He has stated that climate change will be at the forefront of the U.S.’s foreign policy and trade, which will be possible through the imported goods needed to expand clean energy.

Trade has the potential to be one of the largest influences on the global climate beyond just the imports that will be used to develop a clean energy system in the U.S., such as solar panels and batteries. Biden also plans on imposing border tariffs on goods based on how carbon-intensive they are, and the European Union has similar plans in place. Trade policies would also be likely to incentivize companies and individuals to purchase clean energy products, which would impact the manufacturing country and the U.S..

While the U.S. has a significant responsibility to the environment, China does as well, as it is currently the top-emitting country of CO2 annually, producing 28% of the world’s emissions and over 10 billion tons of CO2 just in 2018. While China has pledged to reach carbon neutrality by 2060, this is just a change in policy that has not yet been shown in practice. As two major world players, the relationship between the U.S. and China is extremely important. As a result, Biden’s prioritization of the climate could cause the U.S. to push China to do the same by accelerating its efforts to reach carbon neutrality. However, this is more uncertain, as Biden’s administration does not see eye-to-eye with China on some trade issues, so trade that focuses on clean-energy between the two countries may face some obstacles.

There are plans to invest in current clean energy technologies, but Biden has stated that he wants to go further than this by investing in the development of new clean energy innovations. These efforts would not just be within the U.S., but would be in collaboration with other countries and their ideas for how to reach net-zero climate emissions.

Biden has explicitly said that he does not support the Green New Deal, which is far more aggressive than his own plan to tackle climate change. The Green New Deal (GND) supports the idea that the U.S. must be at the forefront of efforts to combat climate change because of its immense power and carbon emissions. While Biden’s plan may not be precisely what is laid out in the GND, there are several similarities in terms of the goals of the two. Both plans include efforts to create jobs for Americans, completely change the automotive industry, and support historically disadvantaged communities. One large difference between the two is in regards to fracking, which Biden has not condemned. Regardless, President-elect Joe Biden has clearly outlined a clear plan to combat climate change, which would be beneficial for the U.S. and the world as a whole.

Substantial policy changes, especially concerning trade, will obviously make a massive difference in the global fight against climate change. Beyond this, if Biden follows through on his promises, it would be a signal to the international community that the U.S. takes climate change seriously and is willing to do whatever it takes to fight against it.

Featured image from Axios

Written by: Liliana Taub, Guest Blogger and Social Media Intern, climatejusticenow.earth.

Women’s COVID & Climate Leadership

Francesca Von Krauland Uncategorized December 7, 2020December 7, 2020

Women are some of the world’s most effective, yet underrepresented leaders. From the international level to the corporate to the humanitarian, women make up only a minority of leadership positions, yet they consistently show results that are stronger than their male counterparts. Studies into whether women have a different leadership style and what those leadership traits consist of are more important than ever as we watch leaders grapple with pressing issues like the pandemic in addition to longstanding issues like climate change. The people we look up to today to solve the world’s problems are the same people who will inspire tomorrow’s leaders—girls ready to do everything their role models, both women and men, are doing, but better.

According to a UN study, women are the heads of state in only 21 countries worldwide, make up only a quarter of members of national parliaments, and represent 36.3% of elected officials in local deliberative bodies. Women are also just 30% of executives in health organizations, and 24.7% of the world’s health ministers, despite the fact that 70% of health workers are women. These statistics show that few women are in the position to make decisions that represent the interests of other women. Despite the small number of women in charge, the women who are, particularly as heads of state, have been in the headlines this year for being the most effective, reactive, and decisive leaders in responding to the COVID-19 crisis.

Women lead Denmark, Ethiopia, Finland, Germany, Iceland, New Zealand and Slovakia—some of the countries that most effectively implemented confinement measures, testing, and social distancing. The same UN study found that “in countries such as Canada, Ethiopia, India and Madagascar, women medical and health experts are increasingly found in leadership positions and taking the lead in daily press briefings and public service announcements. Women mayors across the world, from Banjul (the Gambia) to Barcelona (Spain), have been highly visible in responding to the pandemic and are sharing their experiences in online forums.” So, what qualities do these and other women leaders share?

Another study found that in countries with comparable GDP per capita, population, population density, and population over 65 years of age, in addition to other equalizing factors, female-led countries had fewer deaths, locked down earlier, and were more communicative with the public about their policies. Leaders whose countries suffered lower death rates shared a few goals: inclusion of the population in planning, authenticity in terms of lowering the barrier between the professional and personal, truthfulness that built trust, decisiveness as the crisis unfolded, and the capable adaptation to technology to combat the virus, including using testing, contact tracing apps, social media knowledge-spreading, and online reporting systems, among other measures. From Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, who created a robust stimulus package for economic recovery, to New Zealand’s Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, who used Facebook Live to hold an informal Q&A to reassure her populace, women have been reinventing the way that leaders react to and solve global issues as they unfold. Of course, proactive measures might be what define the most successful leaders of all: those who foresee and prevent problems before they burden society. Despite scientific appeals to leaders regarding the possibility of pandemics, it seems that most of the world was ill-prepared on this particular issue.

The pandemic might have highlighted the work of a few particularly successful women, but women have been leading movements for progress and recovery in other areas long before this year, and have made a particular impact in the climate movement. Multiple studies indicate “female policy-makers are better at working in a bipartisan way and collaborating across the aisle to drive change; they are more attuned to community needs; and, according the World Economic Forum, female leaders more effectively advance a populations’ overall health.” It’s well-established that climate change effects women in unique ways, especially among the world’s poor; therefore, it’s crucial that these women find themselves represented by women or are themselves in the position to make decisions impacting our global future. Women tend to perceive climate change as a risk more readily than men. Interestingly, men and women also have different emissions patterns, and in places like Sweden, men are responsible for almost twice as high emissions as women due to behavioral differences related to car use. Looking at statistics, with women in charge, the knowledge they bring in terms of care work, consumption, and behavioral patterns, in addition to their particular leadership styles, results in better-run, cleaner, and safer societies. It’s no wonder that climate activists like Greta Thunberg are regarded as saviors, their every word canonized and reprinted on a thousand activists’ posters.

Women are powerful, competent, and yes, in some ways, different than men because of their experiences and the knowledge that comes with these experiences, but they are not one conglomerate of do-gooding guardians who will save the world from the men who seek to dominate it. Women have always been part of the problem too, and powerful women have as varied opinions and approaches as powerful men: to write about them otherwise is a disservice. There’s something vaguely sexist, I think, about expecting “good” women, and especially girls, to solve the world’s problems—especially because in some capacity or another, with more or less visibility, they always have been doing just that. Behind Angela Merkel stand thousands of other women who might agree or disagree with her, but are still working to solve climate change, to stop the spread of the virus, to mitigate the impacts that both have had on vulnerable people, both male and female, across the world. Acknowledging the power of women in the climate movement is important—othering them is reductive. Nevertheless, they persist.

Featured image from Forbes

Building Back Equal

Francesca Von Krauland COVID-19, Global Future, Uncategorized December 1, 2020December 1, 2020care work, economics, feminism, femtech, marketing, sustainability

“Historically, pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew. This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next. We can choose to walk through it, dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas, our dead rivers and smoky skies behind us. Or we can walk through lightly, with little luggage, ready to imagine another world. And ready to fight for it.” So ends a Financial Times article penned by author Arundhati Roy earlier this year, when the extent of the COVID-19 situation was just beginning to become clear. Her words hold truer than ever as we near the final month of this chaotic, tragic, wake-up call of a year. Everything has changed, but have we as a society changed enough to make the most of the times to come?

In my last article, I gave a sketch of the vision of some feminist climate activists, one that involves knocking down the capitalist world order and replacing it with a collectivist and egalitarian framework. I now want to highlight some of the work already being done, within the system, to reform and rebuild the economy with both social and climate justice at the forefront.

First, some hopeful facts, as explained by Joni Seager, a feminist geographer at Bentley University. Renewables have passed non-renewables in the EU for electricity. The BP oil company says that the peak of their output has passed. The Norwegian sovereign wealth fund has said it won’t put any more funding toward fossil fuels. As a whole, in developed nations, fossil fuels are on the way out—all due the fact that rational economic behaviors would move us away from fossil fuels at this moment, more so than as a result of the compassion of the powerful and the passion of the powerless. In fact, much has been accomplished despite what Seager calls “a stubborn attachment that defies sensibility of economics” in the United States and Australia, where governments have ratcheted up commitment to fossil fuels through identity politics. From the top to bottom predominately male work force, to the fact that capital benefits accrue most to men, to the very language we use of “drill baby drill and “dominating the Permian Basin,” the fossil fuels industry is a remarkably masculinized one. Outdated for more than one reason, a society reliant on fossil fuels is also one that propagates a limiting, gendered worldview—and even those who challenge the science and economics of fossil fuels don’t always do so with equality in mind.

There’s a particular, 21st century brand of masculinity that drives environmental policy with methods that only enforce outdated social norms. The economic effects of the pandemic make the Green New Deal more urgent and relevant than ever, yet a feminist analysis of its proposed policies reveals numerous shortcomings, due in large part to the male elite perspective it relies on. A paper commissioned by two UK feminist organizations, Wen and the Women’s Budget Group, found that the Green New Deal creates tech jobs for “men in hard hats lifting solar panels,” a masculinist assumption of what the economy is for. With little acknowledgement of social difference, they emphasize that true progress lies in investing in women and POC-dominated care work, which pollutes less than construction. Care work can be paid or unpaid, and it mainly takes place in the home in the service of others, including children, aging parents, and spouses. The interconnections between the exploitation of women’s care work and the Earth need to be addressed simultaneously because all those doing the care work make survival, learning, and change possible in the face of existential threats—despite the free subsidy that care work represents to people in power. The study found that each pound invested in care produces three times as many jobs as one invested in construction, and this fact, coupled with that the vast majority of people of all genders want care work to be paid, points toward an economic solution that would also have a positive social impact. Supporters of a care-centered green movement consciously distance themselves from some of the ideas of the climate feminists of my last article. Branding themselves “eco-feminists,” supporters of a Feminist Green New Deal emphasize that their ideas are not about women being close to nature or other such caricatures, but about rational arguments for the democratization of care work.

Within the Femtech sector, which is “an all-encompassing name that defines innovations designed to support, improve and promote women’s health,” many products designed and sold for and by women are also eco-friendly. Replacing wasteful, disposable menstrual products with reusable cups, for example, is one of many ways that women are dominating the movement toward sustainable innovation and consumerism. Of course, this is problematic in another way—most available environmentally conscious products on the market, including reusable shopping bags, household cleaning products, and cosmetics, are marketed toward women, with some saying that green is the new pink in women’s marketing. While showcasing the ingenuity and motivation of the women behind some of these campaigns, such an approach alienates men, actually fueling the belief that saving the planet is women’s work, rather than something that can only be achieved through intersectional, inclusive action. But even these notions are dwindling among younger generations, which is a definite cause for hope.

There’s much to be done in the climate movement by both men and women—and deconstructing needlessly gendered economic and business policies seems like a good start. In reforming our global order to address the climate crisis, the pandemic, social injustice, and the economic crisis, solutions need not throw out the system in order to improve it. Policies that are feminist, sustainable, and economically sound would move society forward in a way that’s equal parts revolutionary and truly feasible.

Featured Image from Tee Public

Feminism and Climate Justice: Working “Collectively, Carefully, and Tenderly”

Francesca Von Krauland Global Future November 22, 2020November 24, 2020capitalism, climate justice, feminism, indigenous, intersectional

Climate change is an issue based in fact and science, but its effect on people calls for an ideological approach to problem solving. Many of the proposed solutions to the climate crisis draw on the same ways of thinking that created the problem in the first place. While it is possible to work within the system for green reform, some people advocate for more profound systemic change. The intersectional feminist movement has taken on the challenge of using their ideology of inclusivity and equality in the face of historical power in order to reform the capitalist and paternalistic world order at the root of climate change.

Last month, I attended a symposium called Feminist Pathways to Just and Sustainable Futures. Directed by Carol Cohn, and featuring notable professors in the field, the meeting was a discussion of the diversity and depth of the feminist movement’s approach to fixing the climate crisis. Cohn asserted that a feminist approach to solving the crisis makes sense because the problems being addressed in both the climate and feminist movement are dominant power structures and the mentality of denial surrounding the problem itself. Therefore, the solution for both problems is the same: a total overhaul of the system rather than top-down change that only benefits a select few. Of course, there is no one feminist approach to problem solving since the movement itself is multidimensional, but the underlying idea is that because feminism aims to dismantle inequality, it should address injustice in all of its manifestations. Ideas about gender create racial violence, racial violence creates colonial violence, and all of these violences are wrought upon the Earth in transnational, historical systems that result in climate change. Feminism has always been critical and visionary, and one of the most important ways of employing feminism as a lens through which we can develop the climate movement is by valuing the subordinated perspective. In her address, Cohn asserted, “In a world of a dominant class of men deciding what counts as knowledge, taking women seriously as knowers is revolutionary.” People of different genders, classes, and backgrounds have different kinds of knowledge, the value of which white men have until recently held the power to judge. A feminist approach to climate justice urges the need to take seriously the “anecdotal, heathen, superstitions, idealistic, storytelling, irrelevant” knowledge of people whose understanding of the human relationship with the Earth might just be a model upon which we can rebuild sustainably.

Power structures enforce dominant ways of thinking, and practices that are unjust come to be understood as the only way to do things. In a world in which, for example, sustainable, locally used lands are considered a waste that can be better taken advantage of by dominant institutions, it will seem reasonable that corporations engage in fracking, and destroying the Amazon, and biofuel production, and destroying local livelihoods. But if we understand the land from another perspective, that of an indigenous tribe, corporate practices seem barbaric and outdated. Professor Deborah McGregor at York University explains that climate change is a kind of modern genocide for indigenous groups whose land is often most directly affected by changes to the environment, further exacerbating existing health and housing crises. Multiple joint statements by indigenous groups, such as the Beijing Declaration of Indigenous Women in 1995, the 2013 Lima Declaration, and the 2020 Universal Declaration of the Rights of Mother Earth, argue for the protection of the environment on the basis of their understanding of the land as a female, maternal figure in need of defending. The traditional idea of everyone being connected, with the whole of the human and non-human inhabitants existing with the Earth in one shared story fuels their beliefs. Some indigenous women link feminism and climate justice because they see women as experiencing men’s violence the same way that the Earth does. Many claim that the Earth’s agency must be acknowledged, rather than talking about the Earth as something we do something to in order to destroy or save.

Intersectional feminism also carves out space for workers, migrants, and people of color within the climate movement, emphasizing that solidarity between the marginalized is the only way to truly combat the crisis of inequality. Dismissing romanticized solidarity, feminists like Ruth Nyambura of the Coordinate Hands of Mother Earth Campaign urge that real work must be accomplished “collectively, carefully, and tenderly” in order for an imagined community across boundaries to form and reject the ideas of their and the Earth’s disposability. Agribusiness and fossil fuels rely on the gross treatment of animals and of workers, and bodies and labor and territories are all exploited by the capitalist system that puts value on shared resources and living people. For people like Nyambura, solidarity with the Earth, and with other social movements, is an expression of tenderness.

I’m a feminist and a climate advocate, but before listening to this symposium, I’d never linked the two before. I like the idea of change coming from a place of caring, and agree that profound change must occur in both business and social contexts. But I hesitate to agree with one of the most basic assumptions of this feminist climate theory—that the climate crisis can only be solved by overthrowing the capitalist system. It’s the kind of statement that alienates well-meaning people who would otherwise be enthusiastic about using their ample resources (acquired with the forces of capitalism) to reform the system from within to a path of sustainability. Rebuilding society in the wake of the pandemic must take sustainability into account, and it must work towards inclusion and fair treatment of women, indigenous people, POC, and other groups, but the idea that the system must be discarded rather than simply improved is a dangerous impediment to progress. It’s also untrue. In my next article, I examine how capitalism and the climate movement are both gendered, and how solutions should be feminist, sustainable, and profitable in order to create realistic and lasting change.

Featured Image from Coursera

Migrant Climate Activism

Francesca Von Krauland Global Future, Uncategorized November 18, 2020November 18, 2020activism, capitalism, climate change, migration, refugees

In my last blog, I discussed the ways that climate change increases migration rates, and increased migration in turn contributes to climate change. While it is important for policies to address this link, decreasing migration for environmental purposes is not the intended call to action. Talking about the negative impact of migration on the environment also denies the autonomy of climate refugees and overlooks the contributions many individuals with migrant backgrounds have made to the climate movement. Ideologically, the roots of migration and climate change are tangled, and many activists claim that the source of both issues must be addressed for either movement to see any substantive change.

Migration for climate-related causes alone is far less common than migration caused by reasons of climate exacerbated by political and economic issues.”Most importantly perhaps, climate change is a very political and economic issue: it is a form of persecution inflicted on the most vulnerable populations of the world,” this article points out. Maya Menenez, a migrant and activist, describes her view of the shared cause of both global issues: capitalism. Framing capitalism as a means for “individualizing our suffering,” she claims that indigenous movements, migrant movements, and environmental movements must support each other’s causes in order to make a difference, because of the issues’ overlap as products of the same system of power. Another migrant, Niria Alicia, who is a Xicana community organizer and SustainUS COP25 youth delegation leader, describes how her work as an agriculture laborer during childhood helped her to understand the “culture of disposability” that allows the land, and the people who work the land, to be exposed to toxic industrial chemicals for the profit of those more powerful. She connects the way that vulnerable populations like refugees and migrants are abused to the way that the Earth’s resources are depleted, each problem worsening the other for the benefit of corporations, wealthy people, and the function of society in the developed world. She stresses that even policies that are considered more forward thinking, like the Green New Deal, must be rewritten to include migrant justice in order to really achieve equity, with green jobs supportive of migrants and climate reparations included in reform measures.

Perhaps because of the way their experiences shaped their unique views of the world, many young refugees have become advocates for climate justice. Céline Semaan, who fled political conflict in Lebanon as child, founded a design lab in Brooklyn that brings sustainability into fashion—one of the highest polluting industries in the world. She turns plastic and textile waste into new materials for meaningful and ethically-created items, the sale of which she uses to support the efforts of the World Wildlife Fund, UNICEF, and ANERA—a mission that she says is driven by her experience as a refugee, during which she learned “how easily things can be taken away.” Another refugee-turned climate hero is Abraham Bidal of South Sudan, who works to combat one of the most prevalent environmental issues associated with refugee settlement: deforestation. He promotes a movement to plant trees in Uganda, the land that welcomed his people to safety. He explains, “Planting trees is important because trees are life…if one day we go back to South Sudan we can leave this place as we found it.” In Rohingya refugee camps in Myanmar, many of which are in areas effected by landslides and flash floods, refugee-led farming projects are common. Using solar powered safe water systems to reduce the effects of deforestation and erosion, refugees have led the way in using green technology to mitigate their energy costs and emissions.

The work of some of the most vulnerable people in reconceptualizing our norms and bettering a world that has given them so little is inspiring. In emerging from the pandemic, we need this same mindset, which focuses on regrowth inspired by the wisdom of our experiences. We must let the memory of our own discomfort create empathy for others still in the midst of their struggles. We must let pain fuel an urgency to protect others—our children, or our future selves.

Featured Image from New Frame

Climate Migration: A Cause and Effect

Francesca Von Krauland COVID-19, Global Future November 15, 2020November 15, 2020climate change, COVID-19, human rights, migration, natural disasters, pandemic, refugees

We watched the events of this year unfold from our couches. News of the pandemic’s spread had most of the population home and baking, breaking out board games and books to alleviate boredom. When election week got too stressful, or we read about yet another jihadist attack, or another Black American’s arrest gone disturbingly wrong, or the latest statistics on worsening climate change, we fought back with activism, yes, but also with self care. We watch the news on our couches, with our loved ones, light scented candles and buy another fluffy blanket as the cold weather sets in, as we contemplate the world’s most deeply rooted inequities. It is our right—self care is crucial to sustaining mental health so that we have the energy to keep fighting for change. But it’s also a luxury denied to the very people we fight for. As we munch on our homemade sourdough starters and shake our heads at the latest “presidential” tweet, there are people around the world who are so affected by global events that they lose, rather than retreat to, the homes they want to feel just as safe in as we do ours. Migrants and refugees have been a historical reality as long as the concept of borders has existed, but the causes of flight, the perils of that process, and its longterm ramifications are now more interconnected and alarming than ever.

In my most recent articles, I examined the links between climate change and natural disasters like droughts, hurricanes, and wildfires. Events like these, but also places with conditions of less immediacy, which nonetheless experience the effects of a changing climate, make many of the world’s most vulnerable places unlivable, resulting in migration. Such migration can occur within a country but also across national borders and even across continents. These movements and influxes of large, heterogeneous groups of migrants and refugees are both caused by environmental degradation and often unwitting contributors to that very same process. Yet despite, and perhaps because of this vicious cycle, humanitarian efforts to support these groups, especially during a global pandemic, are more crucial both to the wellbeing of migrants and to the environment than perhaps ever before.

While migration can be spurred by a variety of push and pull factors, when one examines the climate/environment as a catalyst for movement, there are several main causes, as outlined in this study. Migration induced by environmental disasters, like those mentioned above, is one. Migration caused by longterm environmental degradation, like resource strain due to overpopulation, is another main cause. Finally, long term effects of climate change like rising sea levels and shifts in disease patterns due to changes in weather regimes and temperature change also drives migration.

While the idea of migration might most readily bring to mind the entrance and assimilation of large groups from political conflict areas into the West, the reality of migration is nuanced, occurring over vastly different timelines and over varying geographic scales. Whether the movement is international or simply regional, the amount of people migrating, the reason for their migration, and the resources available for their support upon arrival all have ramifications both for the environment in the receiving territory and for the migrants themselves. Studies of internal migration show that “settlement into marginal and fragile ecosystems in [Least Developed countries] have led to desertification, deforestation and other environmental degradation.” Another study finds that migration from developing to developed countries causes an absolute increase in global emissions not just from the process of movement but also from environmental damage in the areas in which they settle. In developed countries, this means increased total emissions as migrant populations settle into the energy consumption patterns associated with higher income level urban areas, as well as loss of biodiversity, soil quality, deforestation, water pollution, and deterioration of natural areas responsible for carbon sequestration for migrants who settle in and develop more rural areas. These problems make living in migrant settled areas difficult not just for existing local populations but also for the migrants themselves.

The environmental problems in connection with the multiple stages of migration result from a lack of efficient management and planning. Understandably, the immediate wellbeing of refugee populations is the priority, but approaching the task of planning a refugee settlement cannot be dictated by short-term goals when such settlements are often longterm establishments, existing on average for 17 years. This is long enough to irreversibly damage the local environment of the settlement. Camp overcrowding, while a humanitarian issue, is also an environmental one, as local water and tree supplies diminish dangerously. The UNHCR created a tool to assess environmental impact in 2005, yet the focus remains on a “curative” rather than prevention-oriented approach. In some places, if the potential financial and social burden of supporting refugees does not dissuade a host country from accepting refugees, the damage to the environment that persists long after might act as a disincentive for aid. This article points out that after examining case studies in rural camps like that of 80,000 Nigerian refugees in Northern Cameroon and Syrian refugee camps in urban Lebanon, it is clear that “despite the gradual introduction of the term “environment” as a cross-cutting issue in policies and strategies, environmental issues are generally perceived as being separate from the humanitarian sector…humanitarian crises can have a significant impact on the natural environment, particularly when these are prolonged crises.”

Migration, whether for political, environmental, or other reasons, is predicted to increase in the coming decades, but it must do so in a way that protects both the displaced groups and their destinations. Establishing new urban centers in migratory destinations is one proposed sustainable solution. As a whole, planning and facilitating migration as a lifesaving option for vulnerable groups that does not jeopardize future environmental health must be prioritized in the conversation on migration, not just in addition to humanitarian aims but as a humanitarian aim in itself.

This year, the pandemic raised many questions about borders, international rights, and the priorities of governments. Within weeks of COVID-19’s spread across the globe, travel between the Unites States and Europe, and indeed between European countries, halted—and still has not been completely restored. In difficult times, the instinct of many is to protect those closest to them: family, neighbors, those with the same nationality. Asylum procedures were similarly disrupted. Displaced people became some of the most vulnerable to exposure to the virus due to cramped living conditions and shared resources, and their need was more urgent than ever. The pandemic serves as a powerful reminder of the world’s connectedness, but also of how differently people experience the same problems. Climate change causes migration, which causes environmental degradation and furthers the spread of the virus, which might lead to more inaction on climate change as leaders struggle to deal with the most immediate global issues at the direct expense of ongoing ones; it’s a brutal cycle that can only be broken with empathy, knowledge, and planning.

Featured Image from Climate and Migration Coalition

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