I didn’t want to be a climate activist

There are people working in the climate space who wish they weren’t, preferring that the problems no longer existed and they could get back on their original path.

The image above was posted in the comments of one of our Climate Stories Atlantic articles. Whether human, semi-human troll, or anti-climate bot, it had me rifling through my stack of mortgage statements, power bills, and used car repair receipts looking for the deeds to my yacht, private jet, and multiple mansions. Alas, those deeds went undone.

Not too long ago, someone asked me when I decided I wanted to be a climate activist. I reflected on the question, remembering the much, much younger me who wanted to be a photojournalist or theatre set designer or documentary filmmaker.

Like many people who start off in one direction, the state of the world — both the planet and the people on it — set me on an alternate course. (What is the purpose of art, I thought, as an idealistic young person is wont to do, when there is poverty out there – even though it was political and social theatre that in many ways changed my worldviews.)

After a volunteer posting abroad, I returned to Canada and switched a half-finished university degree from Theatre to International Development. I then spent three decades in the non-profit sector working on global, environmental, and climate change issues. As a consultant, I continue to work in climate and community development spaces.

However, there are many in the climate change sector, like me, who wish they didn’t have to be climate activists. This sentiment isn’t because of a lack of environmental commitment, but rather, because we would prefer that the problems no longer existed and we could get back to our regularly scheduled programs. Climate work is generally born of necessity rather than desire. This is especially true of climate scientists (of which I am definitely not one) who may face the dilemma of balancing traditional scientific values and approaches with a belief in the urgent need for climate political action.

There are psychological burdens associated with climate concern and general burnout risks from activism of most kinds. Some describe climate workers as experiencing “pre-traumatic stress” as they try to brace for the climate-related disasters they know are coming. And young people, born to a world where they see climate-worsened weather before their eyes, are far too often told it’s up to them to solve the mess they’ve inherited.

This is in no way an employment complaint. Climate work is creative, challenging, and fulfilling; I’ve received more than I could ever give in terms of working relationships, job satisfaction, and windows into different cultures and communities. This also isn’t to say there aren’t holier-than-thou activists who behave hypocritically (it’s very hard to be a purist in this world) or who use guilt rather than connection and persuasion as their main tool.

Maybe some people feel they’re being told too often that they’re the “bad guys” —resulting in them ending up with a particular view of climate activists. Or maybe the algorithms led them to the same destination. Climate change does engage our moral brain, and many look for “enemies” as part of their response to that feeling. Yet, simplistically (and to different degrees), we all contribute to this problem and all stand to suffer the impacts (again, to varying degrees). The truth is that climate change is a more complicated and intertwined topic than most other issues, and the solutions won’t always be easy.

Life can be hard, and life can be expensive. Maybe some skilled, hard-working people in the more “polluting industries” want to be called in to the transition to a cleaner economy rather than called out. I’ll try not to assume intent just as I hope others don’t assume why I am in the climate solutions game.

However, if you’ll excuse me, I have lobster to eat on my yacht.