The Day Before Tomorrow

Happy Earth Day!

Like the majority of people who read this blog, I live on Earth and call it my home, although I have yet to receive a citizenship application. Probably what makes Earth such an a popular choice as a permanent home, or a vacation destination, is its environment. Milennia of political instability, cultural confusion and oppressive taxation are all balanced out by the sheer abundance of fresh water, tasty vegetables, clean, fragrant air, and breathtaking vistas, with your choice of a wide range of climates.

Lest you believe otherwise, due in part, possibly, to my tongue-in-cheek post regarding the Sea Shepherds and their quest to save harp seals from savage cruelty by getting arrested, I love the environment. We each have a personal responsibility to take care of it, to the same degree that we use it, like a library, church, the Internet or any other socialist democratic organization. I consider this a fact, rather than a belief, and so am rarely found wearing a uniform, zipping around in a carbon-neutral corn-based Zodiac, harpooning whalers. But I will pick the environmentally-conscious alternative when it’s practical, and vigorously encourage others to do the same. I don’t own or drive a car; it’s not purely an environmentally-motivated choice, but I’m conscious and glad of the positive effect on the world around me.

The educational vogue, as I was growing up, was emphasis on environmental responsibility. We didn’t have science class for most of elementary school; we had Environmental Studies. Greenpeace were heroes; whalers were universally vilified. We watched a then-twelve-year-old Ben Affleck lie naked next to his hypothermic captain in Voyage of the Mimi. Stories of sperm-whale-penis barstools and spades thrust through intestines for that precious byproduct, ambergris, were so vivid they have stayed with me for twenty or more years.

And looming over it all, cheerfully warning us of our demise, like the Yoda of environmental Jedi, was Dr. David Suzuki.

Dr. Suzuki was sort of a hero of mine for a while before the age of ten. I still agree with his message: that an environmentally-sustainable culture is attainable, but we’re not doing enough to make it happen, and that the effort needs to be as much, if not more, personal than political. Some have accused him of being more show than substance, but popularizing the ideas is really the most important step of the whole process. That’s why Silent Spring was an important book. That’s why Greenpeace and the Sea Shepherds are important organizations. Bringing the reality into the public eye is enough to create positive change (assuming we’re not suicidal as a species).

So when Dr. Suzuki said that we were like frogs being boiled slowly, I took it to heart; but I didn’t really believe that climate change was a one-lifetime reality. Those were the years when 28 degrees Celsius was the hottest it got in Ottawa, for the last three days of August each year. As I write, it’s mid-April, the snow is barely melted, and the temperature is already 25. We’ve gone from four seasons to two: The Day After Tomorrow and Mad Max. I regularly refer to US Department of the Army Field Manuals to keep myself healthy in weather conditions that routinely exceed human body temperature throughout the summer. So I guess, Dr. Suzuki, that I owe you a Coke.

I always liked the idea that I didn’t have to become a vegan nudist to save my planet. As supportive as I am of vegan nudists’ lifestyle choice (no pictures, please), I could never embrace it due to a catatonic fear of bees and a strong love of eating meat. The idea of four-thousand-year-inbred cow herds roaming the American continent also mildly frightens me. But Dr. Suzuki, an avid fisherman, can say that we’re killing our planet, and at the same time be seen on television eating raw sea urchins with his daughter. That’s the kind of mentality that resonates with my West Coast roots.

A couple of years back, I saw Dr. Suzuki on a billboard; he was holding something that looked like a white curly fry. Actually, it was one of these new Compact Fluorescent Lightbulbs. Delighted as I was that Tesla could finally claim victory over Edison, and at a fraction of the electrical power, something troubled me. I don’t have to replace the bulb for a good eight or ten years, fine. It provides whiter light at a fraction of the carbon cost, fine. But what this scientist, environmentalist and fellow fisherman is holding in his hand, at the end of the day, is a tube of mercury vapour.

Now, I’ve read the Ontario Provincial Government guidelines on eating freshwater fish, and mercury’s much more of a problem in fish you yourself catch than it is in the commercial fish you buy at the store. For eight or ten years, this thing is going to be sitting in my ceiling (and I haven’t had one burn out yet!), and then… am I taking them to the Waste Disposal Depot? Am I throwing them into the garbage to leach toxic metals into the ecosystem? Or am I stockpiling them for posterity?

Luckily, I’m not the only one who thinks of such things. Local blogger ecochick brings good news: the Home Depot is leading the charge in providing safe recycling for these absolutely wonderful, but potentially lethal, lightbulbs. I’m proud that they’re looking out for the biggest home of all.

I’m sure someone, somewhere, who styles themselves a capitalist or some such archaic term, frowns upon all these little things we are doing to heal the wounds opened by our coal-happy past two centuries. They’re not good for the oil economy, you see. But I see hope for industry, economy and environment alike, as we cure each of our self-inflicted environmental ills. I believe Piet Hein, Danish scientist, philosopher and poet, said it best in his poem, The Only Solution:

We shall have to evolve

problem-solvers galore -

since each problem they solve

creates ten problems more.