Climate “inactivism” and the risks of inflicting guilt in environmental politics

Earlier this year, Michael E. Mann, who is widely recognized as one of the creators of the famous “hockey stick” graph depicting historical increase in global temperature, published a book titled “The New Climate War”. Despite being written by a renowned climate scientist, the book is fully politicized in its argument against climate “inactivism”, broadly defined as a movement that works towards blocking progress in climate action around the world. Climate inactivism resembles climate denialism in many ways, except it no longer is about dismissing climate change or infusing the debate with discourses of uncertainty and lack of scientific consensus. Now that their go-to lies cannot hold up anymore, “inactivists” opt for a new “It’s not us, it’s you” gambit and dump all the blame on anyone who is not the precise industries that cause the majority of the problems. All of a sudden, anyone with an above-zero carbon footprint (that is, almost the entirety of humankind?!) becomes a target of this tactic, which relieves the bulk of responsibility off of the fossil fuel industry’s shoulders. The intention is even more obvious when one recognizes the fact that carbon footprint is a concept popularized by none other than the oil and gas company BP in a massive ad campaign. The term carbon footprint, still actively exploited today in media and politics alike, has become ingrained in consumers’ minds, shifting focus to what individuals can achieve in their personal lifestyles rather than how we should challenge the industry and institution that allow for and encourage such unsustainable lifestyles.

Climate inactivism serves as an acute opposite and, in most cases, deliberate obstruction to climate activism. Mann’s initial conceptualization of these two terms illuminates and labels the two active forces that appear to attempt to cancel each other out. However, as he goes on to elaborate in the book, the boundary between the two categories is not as clear cut as it seems, nor the actual identification of climate (in)activists as black-and-white. A significant portion of the book sets out to describe how some proponents of climate solutions may inadvertently become inactivists due to their fixation on certain approaches to the climate challenge. Examples abound in the book: inactivists appear to be lurking under any identity from climate doomsayers to left-wing political coalitions demanding more radical policies, to practically anyone skeptical of the current market-based solutions we seem to be running with in the next decade at least. This expanded conceptualization of climate inactivism to include so-called climate “activists” has some merits in that it draws attention to the real-life impact of certain climate recommendations (i.e., inaction), beyond the good intention claimed by these suggestions.

However, branding supporters of the climate agenda as inactivists and critiquing their efforts is not without limitations. Mann’s flip-flopping between rebutting climate denialism and dismissing efforts to tackle climate change albeit with a different approach from his own, happens to produce unnecessarily paradoxical arguments. One moment the book is calling out conservatives who artfully obstruct climate action by pitting progressives against one another, the next it inadvertently supplies materials for that exact maneuver popular among conservatives. By lumping fellow proponents of climate solutions into the category of climate inactivists, Mann accidentally discounts the legitimacy and necessity of these approaches, in turn allowing resistance against more radical recommendations in the climate crisis to flourish.

The book’s inquiry into the definition and scope of climate inactivism leaves an incomplete and unsatisfying conclusion as to how we should go ahead with this concept. Michael E. Mann also seems quite oblivious to the paradoxes of his own message and delivery in the book. As he remains critical of the divergent approaches to climate change that strike him as dogmatic and overly rigid, he may come across to the readers as someone who rejects too much of the work by fellow climate advocates and insists on his own ideals of climate solutions. Demanding that these solutions shall not exceed a certain boundary and traverse into territories of “radicalism” or “doomism” is quite paternalistic, short-sighted, and actually debilitating in the long run. The bottom line is that we do not need more polarization in the current political atmosphere, but we need to create as much unity of voice as possible, especially among those of us with a shared goal. The book sadly underdelivers in that respect. [Disclaimer: I recognize that my own critique of Mann’s book exemplifies the very issue I am highlighting with the way this book is written, that is, with strong disapproval of certain approaches to the climate crisis – assuming Mann’s proposal is an approach in itself. This demonstrates the natural tendency towards overestimating one’s subjective identification of solutions and finding faults with the divergent ones. This thought serves as an appropriate segue to the next discussion.]

As a reader, I find the book’s attempt to dissect the characteristics of climate solutions and dictate how they ought to be evaluated (i.e., by impact rather than by intention) less significant than the derivative question of what the moral and emotional implications of such evaluation and comparison of solutions are. One lens through which we can look at these aspects of appraising climate solutions is the affect associated with the practice. Opting to make relevant or not this evaluation of various solutions to climate change can produce specific emotions that consequently influence actions and behaviors. Here I single out guilt as a likely reaction to such process of judging the value and efficacy of climate solutions, and discuss its role in environmental politics.

Guilt is a readily available component in climate communication. When responsibility is concerned, guilt is not only an emotional device for internalizing blame but also an amplifier for problem-solving motivation. Guilt can be experienced only when the individual recognizes their complicity in the seemingly “wrong” action or behavior. If there is no internalization of blame, feelings of guilt most likely will not transpire. For example, someone who identifies with the climate movement and perceives their own part in causing the climate crisis will experience guilt. In contrast, it is questionable whether a climate denier ever faces climate-related guilt as they do not acknowledge the problem, let alone identify their complicity in it. This makes the guilt response contingent on the background, worldviews, beliefs, and attitudes of the recipient of communicating texts. Regardless of whether an infliction of guilt is intended by the communicator, it cannot be assumed that guilt is experienced equally, or at all, by the audience. In the case of climate change, feelings of guilt are arguably exclusive to those who acknowledge the climate crisis, who are aware of their own contribution to the issues, and who have a genuine desire to avert future contribution.

In the book “The New Climate War”, Mann does more than calling out the fossil fuel industry and its economic and political patrons, who most clearly fit the definition of climate inactivists. Besides critiquing these groups, he also emphasizes how some efforts by climate “activists” are far from helpful and in fact quite obstructive to the movement. Even if the book intends to convey a message of anti-inactivism equally to the fossil fuel industry and the radical/doomist climate “activists”, such a message can be perceived differently by these two groups. From the above description of the guilt experience, one can assume that the latter group is more likely to react to an infliction of guilt (intentional or not) for the simple reason that they are more sensitized to the issue and their own contribution to it. On the flip side, the former group (fossil fuel industry and others with vested interests in blocking the climate agenda) may not internalize the criticism to the same extent – not to mention the possibility that they are less likely to read the book compared to the climate “activists” in the first place.

Understanding the risks of having guilt in communicating and responding to climate messaging can offer some insight into our evaluation of climate solutions. In particular, we ought to be aware of the varied response in regard to affect and ethical consideration when we assess and compare approaches to resolving climate issues. Furthermore, what we can also take from this discussion is an appreciation for complementary climate solutions that all fit into the big picture of climate planning, rather than a gravitation towards comparing solutions and dismissing those that we deem less valuable, by whatever measure. Propositions for “radical” left-wing policies do not need to be dismissed on the basis of being outside the “practical” conventions of today’s world. Similarly, leftist politics should acknowledge the merits of centrist policies (especially in a polarized political atmosphere) if there is a vision for policy adaptation based on the changing climate. In fact, solutions beyond the public sphere should not be discounted either. Just because carbon footprint is a term promoted by the oil and gas industry does not mean it is irrelevant to our broader attempt at tackling climate change. Moving beyond a combative and dismissive approach to assessing solutions and integrating them in a complementary manner could be our best path out of the conundrum of inactivism.

This blog post was written as a class assignment for the course “Environmental Philosophy in Education”.