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climate change activist and science communicator; photographer; mapmaker — advocate for a stable global climate, reduced nuclear weapon risks, and safe human-AI interaction
Atmosphere, biosphere, lithosphere, hydrosphere, etc – everything about life and the state of this planet
To those with access to e-Journals different from those at Oxford:
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Canada’s Green Party elected a new leader today: Elizabeth May, who is described by The Globe and Mail as a “[l]ong-time activist.” The Greens have been around since 1983, usually polling about 5% of the national vote, but they have never had a seat in Parliament.
The electoral situation facing the Greens is not unlike many of the environmental problems about which they are concerned. It is one of the broad distribution of a phenomenon that would have political relevance if concentrated, but fails to do so when diffuse. Because the Greens do not have enough support to achieve a plurality of votes in a federal riding, they will probably never win seats in the House of Commons – not even enough to be a viable coalition partner for a minority government.
Barring a change in the electoral system – which I would welcome, largely because of how it would benefit parties like the Greens – the best hope the party has is to become an especially effective critic of government. If they can assemble the winning combination of good policies, strong supporting evidence and arguments for them, and media attention, they have a chance of swaying the policy development of whoever is in power. The fact that this leadership election is the first I have heard about the Greens in months suggests that the last of those, at least, is somewhat lacking at the moment.
In a governmental system like Canada’s, where enormous power is vested in the Prime Minister, it seems especially important to have innovative and effective criticism generated by other parties in Parliament. They, along with the media, provide one of two essential planks of oversight, along with the Supreme Court. I hope that the Greens, under Ms. May, prove capable at generating accomplishments from such a position.
PS. Almost by chance, I had a most interesting dinner with Edwina today. I hadn’t known that she spent nine months in Afghanistan a few years ago. It’s astonishing to learn what kind of life experiences your fellow students here have had.
Happy Birthday Zandara Kennedy
Extensively footnoted and balanced in its claims, John McNeill’s Something New Under the Sun is an engaging and worthwhile study of the environmental history of the twentieth century. It covers atmospheric, hydrospheric, and biospheric concerns – focusing on those human actions and technologies that have had the greatest impact on the world, particularly in terms of those parts of the world human beings rely upon. People concerned with the dynamic that exists between human beings and the natural world would do well to read this volume. As McNeill demonstrates with ample figures and examples, that impact has been dramatic, though not confined to the twentieth century. What has changed most is the rate of change, in almost all environmentally relevant areas.
The drama of some documented changes is incredible. McNeill describes the accidental near-elimination of the American chestnut, the phenomenal global success of rabbits, and the intentional elimination of 99.8% of the world’s blue whales in clear and well-attributed sections. From global atmospheric lead concentrations to the depletion of the Ogallala Aquifer, he also covers a number of huge changes that are not directly biological. I found his discussion of the human modification of the planet’s hydrological systems to be the most interesting, quite probably because it was the least familiar thing he discussed.
Also interesting to note is that, published in 2000, this book utterly dismisses nuclear power as a failed technology. In less than three pages it is cast aside as economically non-sensical (forever dependent on subsidies), inherently hazardous, and without compensating merit. Interesting how quickly things can change. The book looks far more to the past than to the future, making fewer bold predictions about the future consequences of human activity than many volumes of this sort do.
Maybe the greatest lesson of this book is that the old dichotomy between the ‘human’ and the ‘natural’ world is increasingly nonsensical. The construction of the Aswan High Dam has fundamentally altered the chemistry of the Mediterranean at the same time as new crops have altered insect population dynamics worldwide and human health initiatives have changed the biological tableau for bacteria and viruses. To see the human world as riding on top of the natural world, and able to extract some set ‘sustainable’ amount from it, may therefore be unjustified. One world, indeed.
For those concerned about climate change or dependency on foreign energy, a home geothermal heating and cooling system may be just the ticket. Such systems take advantage of how the temperature is relatively constant underground, whether it is overly hot at the surface or overly cold. As such, it can be used to heat in the winter and cool in the summer, while using only a minimal amount of energy to carry out the heat exchange. While this is a pretty expensive thing to install in a single existing house after the fact, it seems plausible that it could be scaled in ways that make it economically viable in a good number of environments.
If electricity, oil, and gas really started to get expensive, you would start seeing a lot more such systems. Another example is the pipelines that draw cold water from the bottom of Lake Superior to cool office towers in Toronto during the summer.
Conservation may not be as technologically engrossing as genetically modified biofuels and hydrogen fuel cells, but it is definitely a proven approach.
Among environmentalists these days, the mark that you are a hard-headed realist committed to stopping climate change is that you have come to support nuclear power. (See Patrick Moore, one founder of Greenpeace, in the Washington Post.) While appealing in principle, the argument goes, renewable sources of energy just can’t generate the oomph we need as an advanced industrial society – at least, not quickly enough to get us out of the hole we’ve been digging ourselves into through fossil fuel dependence.
I am sympathetic to the argument. A good case can be made for employing considerable caution when dealing with something as essential and imperfectly understood as the Earth’s climatic system. Nuclear power is strategically appealing – it could reduce the levels of geopolitical influence of some really nasty governments like Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Russia. It is appealing insofar as carbon emissions are concerned, though it is not quite as zero-emission as some zealots claim, once you take into account things like fuel mining and refining, transport, and construction. It is appealing insofar as it can generate really huge amounts of power, provided we can find people who are willing to have reactors in their vicinities.
The big problem, obviously, is nuclear waste. Nuclear reactors produce high level radioactive waste, as well as becoming radioactive themselves over the course of time. The scales across which such waste is dangerous dwarf recorded human history. Wastes like Plutonium-239 will remain extremely dangerous for tens of millennia. As The Economist effectively explains it:
In Britain only a few ancient henges and barrows have endured for anything like the amount of time that a nuclear waste dump will be expected to last—Stonehenge, the most famous, is “only” 4,300 years old. How best, for example, to convey the concept of dangerous radiation to people who may be exploring the site ten thousand years from now? By that time English (or any other modern language) could be as dead as Parthian or Linear A, and the British government as dim a memory as the pharaohs are today.
In fairness, we have some reason to believe that future generations will be more capable of dealing with high level radioactive waste than we are. There is likewise some reason to believe that we can bury the stuff such that it will never trouble us again. Much of it has, after all, been dumped in far less secure conditions. Chernobyl remains entombed in a block of degrading concrete, and substantial portions of the Soviet nuclear fleet have sank or been scuttled with nuclear waste aboard. (See: One, two, three) Off the coast of the Kola Peninsula near Norway, 135 nuclear reactors from 71 decommissioned Soviet submarines were scuttled in the Berrents Sea during the Cold War. In addition, the Soviet Union dumped nuclear waste at 10 sites in the Sea of Japan between 1966 and 1991.
In the end, I don’t find the argument for long-term geological storage to be adequate. We cannot make vessels that will endure the period across which these materials will be dangerous. As such, I do not think we can live up to our obligations towards members of future generations if we continue to generate such wastes – though that is unlikely to matter much to politicians facing US$100 a barrel oil. Pressed to do so, I am confident that a combination of reduction in the usage of energy and the development of renewable sources could deal with the twin problems of climate change and the depletion of oil resources. The short term cost might be a lot higher than that associated with nuclear energy, but it seems the more prudent course to take.
All that said, I very much encourage someone to argue the contrary position.
The bitter joke among fisheries scientists is that the Japanese are engaged in a dual project of turning all available knowledge and energy to the farm-rearing of bluefin tuna while simultaneously expending all available effort to catch every wild example.
This month, they succeeded in one of those aims: Hidemi Kumai and his team at Kinki University managed to raise fry born in captivity to adult size and them have them breed successfully. Because of the complexity of their life cycle, it is a considerable achievement. (Source) These are valuable fish, with the record holder having sold for $180,000 in Tokyo. The three largest fishers of Bluefin tuna are the United States, Canada and Japan.
This is good news for those who enjoy bluefin tuna sashimi, though they should probably be hoping that the rearing process can be scaled up to commercial levels. According to the US National Academy of Sciences1, present day stocks are only 20% of what existed in 1975. Some sources hold existing bluefin stocks to be just 3% of their 1960 level. Present stocks are only 12% of what the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas has designated as necessary to maintain the maximum sustainable yield for the resource. Within another fifty years, it is quite possible that wild bluefin tuna will no longer exist.
[1] National Academy of Sciences. National Research Council. An Assessment of Atlantic Bluefin Tuna. Washington DC National Academy Press, 1994.
One major tenet of liberalism is the idea that greater awareness of the world gained by people collectively through science and individually through education can improve overall human welfare in the long term. Firstly, the idea is that people will gain a more accurate understanding of the world and how it works. Much more controversially, they might improve the way they reason.
A game much loved by economists illustrates the controversy:
There are two players. The first player is asked to divide $10 into two parts and offer one to the second player. If the second player accepts the offer, each player gets to keep their share. If the second player refuses, nobody gets anything.
Standard economic logic would call upon player one to offer exactly $0.01, which player two should happily accept. Both players are made better off and should thus be willing to make the deal, and each player has maximized their earnings, given the rules of the game.
Of course, the game doesn’t work this way with real people. Hardly anyone will accept an offer of less than $3. This is entirely logical if you view the game not as an isolated occurrence, but one event in a life. Over the course of a life, it pays to develop strategies that keep you from having advantage taken of you. Likewise, over the course of repeated interaction, it pays to have strategies by which other people can be compelled to give you a better deal. This one choice may not offer the scope for such development, but the existence of such heuristic devices (like rules of thumb) can be extremely efficient where people have limited information and thinking power.
Economists, on the other hand, are about the only people who make offers of less than $1. More tellingly, they are also about the only people who accept such meagre offers. Through exposure to economic theory, their mechanisms of logical thinking have been altered. It is probably fruitless to speculate on whether they have been improved. Economists can understand the importance of factors like those listed above, so playing this way isn’t obviously a sign that their thinking has worsened. Of course, if economic trailing makes them less likely to anticipate that people might reject a $0.01 offer, perhaps they are worse off overall.
What is more interesting than the consideration of whether the economically optimal strategy is inferior or superior is the consideration of how frameworks of understanding affect decision-making and, furthermore, what effect that has on the liberal conception of welfare improvement through improved knowledge. The previous blog entry, for instance, portrayed the costs of global warming in terms of how much it would cost people to deal with (a very common economic representation). Drowned polar bears and damaged ecosystems only matter insofar as they affect people. Personally, I find such an approach reprehensible – for the same reason I think the wholesale denial of animal rights is morally unacceptable.
One can defend that position on pragmatic grounds: human beings with a reverence for nature have a better chance of living good lives and/or not wiping ourselves out. Saying we should cultivate the belief on those grounds is similar to Rorty’s conception of ironic liberalism. By contrast, the belief that the integrity of natural systems matters for its own sake has an intuitive appeal of a sort very un-chic and difficult to defend in a world full of poststructuralist rejections of firm ontological foundations to moral truth. Anyone who can devise an argument for the inherent value of nature not subject to such criticism will earn my appreciation.
PS. Inside nested padded envelopes, the dust-infested Canon A510 is en route to a registered service depot. If they decide to cover the problem under the warranty, I expect they will replace the camera outright, rather than trying to open and clean it. Doing so would take a fair amount of some technicians time and, if the camera isn’t properly sealed, it would only be a matter of time before parts of my sensor would start getting opaque again. Hopefully, it will come back in time for my trip to Ireland later this month.
PPS. I just upgraded to WordPress 2.0.4. Please report any bugs you come across on the bug reports page. Note also that, due to a barrage of spam comments, I have tightened the comment filtering settings. My apologies if any of your comments get zapped by the filters.
Perhaps the biggest question about global warming is what environmental economists refer to as ‘the shape of the damage curve.’ I would say that the scientific evidence that global warming is taking place is essentially ironclad (though the relationships of some events, such as more severe hurricanes, to it are rather more tenuous). Equally true is the fact that human beings are contributing to the warming of the planet. What the damage curve represents is the amount of harm caused by each additional unit of global warming, expressed in terms of the cost that would be required to mitigate it. Mitigation costs include everything from relocating people to dealing with larger malarial areas, making agricultural changes, and increased building heating and cooling costs in different areas. The costs are net of any benefits that global warming provides: such as being able to grow certain crops farther north, or having a longer growing season overall.
The most benign possibility would look something like this:

The damage increases steadily with the amount of mean global temperature change. This is helpful because it allows us to predict the degree of future damage quite effectively and make reasonably good choices with regard to how much reduction in greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions we should undertake.
A worse option looks like this:

The damage increases at an increasing rate, as temperature does. This seems intuitively more likely than the first option, since bigger increases are likely to unbalance more and more complex biological and climatological systems.
An even worse option looks like this:

It is possible that climate change would involve a big jump that we wouldn’t see coming until it was too late. An example would be the much talked about possibility that the Gulf Stream, which warms Western Europe, could be disrupted. The biggest reason this is problematic is because we might believe we were in a scenario like the one in chart one, only to be proved spectacularly wrong.
The trillion dollar question, of course, is which of these approximations we should adopt as the basis for policymaking, until such a time as compelling evidence for one of the possibilities or another emerges (hopefully not by means of humanity actually following one of those curves too far). The most cautious option is to assume that the progression would be like chart 3, with the break at an unknown location. The prudent policy, then, would be to try and stabilize GHG levels at their present positions. Of course, that could involve massive reductions in possibilities for economic growth in the rich world and poverty reduction in the poor world. A tricky decision to make, in the face of such important considerations on both sides.
Personally, I don’t think any serious action will be taken until some very real evidence of the harm that can be caused by global warming has manifest itself. As for the question of what should be done, in the ideal circumstance, I am profoundly uncertain. What do other people think?
My tutorials this afternoon went exceptionally well. Discussing an area that you really know a great deal about with someone who is interested but just starting out in their scholarly examination of it is both engaging and rewarding. I am especially enjoying the tutorial on distributive justice. I remember how interesting it was to first read Rawls, Mill, Singer, et al and it is particularly gratifying to be sharing such ideas with someone else. The only danger is assigning a reading list that is far too long. As far as the tutorials on globalization and global justice go, I need not have worried about being short on communicable knowledge.
The other tutorial, on OPEC and the oil price shock, was also quite interesting. I have gone over 20th century Middle Eastern history enough times now that I feel quite comfortable talking about it and have a list of sources in mind basically all the time. In general, the tutorials were a reminder of the excitement that can be associated with the conveyance of knowledge.
I am looking forward to the four tutorials that remain with these two students.
The best piece of writing I have come across in the last week or so is a chapter from the Bromley and Paavola book on environmental economics that I have been reading. By A. Allan Schmid, it is called “All Environmental Policy Instruments Require a Moral Choice as to Whose Interests Count.” The argument is that the idea of solving environmental problems in a purely technical way (internalizing externalities, to borrow from the economics lingo) is impossible. When a policy is represented that way, there is always a moral choice being concealed. In tort law, this becomes explicit through an instrument called nuisance.
If my neighbours are making homemade beer and the process produces a constant cloud of nasty smelling gas that wafts into my yard and through my windows, I could seek remedy in court. It would then be decided whether or not the smell constitutes nuisance. If not, the court effectively grants a right to produce the smell to my neighbours. I would then be free to try to convince them to use that right differently, for instance by paying them not to make beer.
If the court rules in my favour one of two things can take place. They can grant an injunction, forbidding my neighbours to make beer without my permission. This is great for me, since I can effectively sell them the right to make beer if the amount they are willing to pay exceeds the amount the smell bothers me. This is what Coase is alluding to in his argument that it doesn’t matter who you assign rights to, as long as bargaining can occur (See: Coase Theorem). Of course, he ignores the distributional consequences of assigning the rights one way or another. As an alternative to an injunction, the court can fix a set amount of damages to be paid. This relieves the nuisance, but gives me less scope to take advantage of the court’s decision.
What the example illustrates is that in creating policies to deal with externalities, the rights in question must be effectively assigned to one party or another. We either assign companies the right to pollute, which people around them can negotiate for them not to do, or we assign those people the right not to live in a polluted place, in which case the company has to go to them with an offer. The assigning of rights, then, isn’t a mere technical instrument for achieving an environmental end, but a matter of distributive justice.
Consider the case of fisheries access agreements in West Africa. West African governments have the sovereign right to exploit the waters in their Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs). They can also choose to sell that right, as many have done, to the EU. The governments end up getting about 10% of the value of the fish that are caught, while suffering the loss of future revenue that is associated with the depletion of the fisheries (since they are exploited at an unsustainable level). In this case, the distributional consequences of West African governments being rights holders are fairly adverse. The incentives generated inflict harm on the life prospects of those whose protein intake previously came from fish caught by artisinal fisheries now rendered less productive due to EU industrial fishing. Likewise, the life prospects of future generations of citizens are harmed.
One of the best bits of the Schmid piece is the following:
A popular phrase contrasts “command and control” with voluntary choice. Another contrasts “coercive” regulations with “free” markets. This is mischievous, if not devious. At least, it is certainly selective perception. First of all, the market is not a single unique thing. There are as many markets as there are starting place ownership structures. I personally love markets, but of course I always want to be a seller of opportunities and not a buyer. Equally mischievous is the idea that externalities are a special case where markets fail. Indeed, externalities are the ubiquitous stuff of scarcity and interdependence.
He puts to paid the idea that there is a tradeoff between economic efficiency and moral principles. That is simple enough when you realize there is an infinite set of economically efficient outcomes, given different possible preferences and starting distributions.
Those wanting to read the entire piece should see: Schmid, A. Allen. “All Environmental Policy Instruments Require a Moral Choice as to Whose Interests Count.” in Bromley, Daniel and Jouni Paavola (eds). Economics, Ethics, and Environmental Policy: Contested Choices. Oxford : Blackwell Publishing. 2002. pp. 133-147.