Max
Keiser is really onto Global Warming since the fires in Colorado. I suspect McKibben is not telling the half of it - I think Guy McPherson's got it right.
Global
Warming’s Terrifying New Math
Three
simple numbers that add up to global catastrophe – and that make
clear who the real enemy is
by
Bill McKibben
20
July, 2012
If
the pictures of those towering wildfires in Colorado haven’t
convinced you, or the size of your AC bill this summer, here are some
hard numbers about climate change: June broke or tied 3,215
high-temperature records across the United States. That followed the
warmest May on record for the Northern Hemisphere – the 327th
consecutive month in which the temperature of the entire globe
exceeded the 20th-century average, the odds of which occurring by
simple chance were 3.7 x 10-99, a number considerably larger than the
number of stars in the universe.
Meteorologists
reported that this spring was the warmest ever recorded for our
nation – in fact, it crushed the old record by so much that it
represented the “largest temperature departure from average of any
season on record.” The same week, Saudi authorities reported that
it had rained in Mecca despite a temperature of 109 degrees, the
hottest downpour in the planet’s history.
Not
that our leaders seemed to notice. Last month the world’s nations,
meeting in Rio for the 20th-anniversary reprise of a massive 1992
environmental summit, accomplished nothing. Unlike George H.W. Bush,
who flew in for the first conclave, Barack Obama didn’t even
attend. It was “a ghost of the glad, confident meeting 20 years
ago,” the British journalist George Monbiot wrote; no one paid it
much attention, footsteps echoing through the halls “once thronged
by multitudes.” Since I wrote one of the first books for a general
audience about global warming way back in 1989, and since I’ve
spent the intervening decades working ineffectively to slow that
warming, I can say with some confidence that we’re losing the
fight, badly and quickly – losing it because, most of all, we
remain in denial about the peril that human civilization is in.
When
we think about global warming at all, the arguments tend to be
ideological, theological and economic. But to grasp the seriousness
of our predicament, you just need to do a little math. For the past
year, an easy and powerful bit of arithmetical analysis first
published by financial analysts in the U.K. has been making the
rounds of environmental conferences and journals, but it hasn’t yet
broken through to the larger public. This analysis upends most of the
conventional political thinking about climate change. And it allows
us to understand our precarious – our almost-but-not-quite-finally
hopeless – position with three simple numbers.
The
First Number: 2° Celsius
If
the movie had ended in Hollywood fashion, the Copenhagen climate
conference in 2009 would have marked the culmination of the global
fight to slow a changing climate. The world’s nations had gathered
in the December gloom of the Danish capital for what a leading
climate economist, Sir Nicholas Stern of Britain, called the “most
important gathering since the Second World War, given what is at
stake.” As Danish energy minister Connie Hedegaard, who presided
over the conference, declared at the time: “This is our chance. If
we miss it, it could take years before we get a new and better one.
If ever.”
In
the event, of course, we missed it. Copenhagen failed spectacularly.
Neither China nor the United States, which between them are
responsible for 40 percent of global carbon emissions, was prepared
to offer dramatic concessions, and so the conference drifted
aimlessly for two weeks until world leaders jetted in for the final
day. Amid considerable chaos, President Obama took the lead in
drafting a face-saving “Copenhagen Accord” that fooled very few.
Its purely voluntary agreements committed no one to anything, and
even if countries signaled their intentions to cut carbon emissions,
there was no enforcement mechanism. “Copenhagen is a crime scene
tonight,” an angry Greenpeace official declared, “with the guilty
men and women fleeing to the airport.” Headline writers were
equally brutal: COPENHAGEN: THE MUNICH OF OUR TIMES? asked one.
The
accord did contain one important number, however. In Paragraph 1, it
formally recognized “the scientific view that the increase in
global temperature should be below two degrees Celsius.” And in the
very next paragraph, it declared that “we agree that deep cuts in
global emissions are required… so as to hold the increase in global
temperature below two degrees Celsius.” By insisting on two degrees
– about 3.6 degrees Fahrenheit – the accord ratified positions
taken earlier in 2009 by the G8, and the so-called Major Economies
Forum. It was as conventional as conventional wisdom gets. The number
first gained prominence, in fact, at a 1995 climate conference
chaired by Angela Merkel, then the German minister of the environment
and now the center-right chancellor of the nation.
Some
context: So far, we’ve raised the average temperature of the planet
just under 0.8 degrees Celsius, and that has caused far more damage
than most scientists expected. (A third of summer sea ice in the
Arctic is gone, the oceans are 30 percent more acidic, and since warm
air holds more water vapor than cold, the atmosphere over the oceans
is a shocking five percent wetter, loading the dice for devastating
floods.) Given those impacts, in fact, many scientists have come to
think that two degrees is far too lenient a target. “Any number
much above one degree involves a gamble,” writes Kerry Emanuel of
MIT, a leading authority on hurricanes, “and the odds become less
and less favorable as the temperature goes up.” Thomas Lovejoy,
once the World Bank’s chief biodiversity adviser, puts it like
this: “If we’re seeing what we’re seeing today at 0.8 degrees
Celsius, two degrees is simply too much.” NASA scientist James
Hansen, the planet’s most prominent climatologist, is even blunter:
“The target that has been talked about in international
negotiations for two degrees of warming is actually a prescription
for long-term disaster.” At the Copenhagen summit, a spokesman for
small island nations warned that many would not survive a two-degree
rise: “Some countries will flat-out disappear.” When delegates
from developing nations were warned that two degrees would represent
a “suicide pact” for drought-stricken Africa, many of them
started chanting, “One degree, one Africa.”
Despite
such well-founded misgivings, political realism bested scientific
data, and the world settled on the two-degree target – indeed, it’s
fair to say that it’s the only thing about climate change the world
has settled on. All told, 167 countries responsible for more than 87
percent of the world’s carbon emissions have signed on to the
Copenhagen Accord, endorsing the two-degree target. Only a few dozen
countries have rejected it, including Kuwait, Nicaragua and
Venezuela. Even the United Arab Emirates, which makes most of its
money exporting oil and gas, signed on. The official position of
planet Earth at the moment is that we can’t raise the temperature
more than two degrees Celsius – it’s become the bottomest of
bottom lines. Two degrees.
The
Second Number: 565 Gigatons
Scientists
estimate that humans can pour roughly 565 more gigatons of carbon
dioxide into the atmosphere by midcentury and still have some
reasonable hope of staying below two degrees. (“Reasonable,” in
this case, means four chances in five, or somewhat worse odds than
playing Russian roulette with a six-shooter.)
This
idea of a global “carbon budget” emerged about a decade ago, as
scientists began to calculate how much oil, coal and gas could still
safely be burned. Since we’ve increased the Earth’s temperature
by 0.8 degrees so far, we’re currently less than halfway to the
target. But, in fact, computer models calculate that even if we
stopped increasing CO2 now, the temperature would likely still rise
another 0.8 degrees, as previously released carbon continues to
overheat the atmosphere. That means we’re already three-quarters of
the way to the two-degree target.
How
good are these numbers? No one is insisting that they’re exact, but
few dispute that they’re generally right. The 565-gigaton figure
was derived from one of the most sophisticated computer-simulation
models that have been built by climate scientists around the world
over the past few decades. And the number is being further confirmed
by the latest climate-simulation models currently being finalized in
advance of the next report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate
Change. “Looking at them as they come in, they hardly differ at
all,” says Tom Wigley, an Australian climatologist at the National
Center for Atmospheric Research. “There’s maybe 40 models in the
data set now, compared with 20 before. But so far the numbers are
pretty much the same. We’re just fine-tuning things. I don’t
think much has changed over the last decade.” William Collins, a
senior climate scientist at the Lawrence Berkeley National
Laboratory, agrees. “I think the results of this round of
simulations will be quite similar,” he says. “We’re not getting
any free lunch from additional understanding of the climate system.”
We’re
not getting any free lunch from the world’s economies, either. With
only a single year’s lull in 2009 at the height of the financial
crisis, we’ve continued to pour record amounts of carbon into the
atmosphere, year after year. In late May, the International Energy
Agency published its latest figures – CO2 emissions last year rose
to 31.6 gigatons, up 3.2 percent from the year before. America had a
warm winter and converted more coal-fired power plants to natural
gas, so its emissions fell slightly; China kept booming, so its
carbon output (which recently surpassed the U.S.) rose 9.3 percent;
the Japanese shut down their fleet of nukes post-Fukushima, so their
emissions edged up 2.4 percent. “There have been efforts to use
more renewable energy and improve energy efficiency,” said Corinne
Le Quéré, who runs England’s Tyndall Centre for Climate Change
Research. “But what this shows is that so far the effects have been
marginal.” In fact, study after study predicts that carbon
emissions will keep growing by roughly three percent a year – and
at that rate, we’ll blow through our 565-gigaton allowance in 16
years, around the time today’s preschoolers will be graduating from
high school. “The new data provide further evidence that the door
to a two-degree trajectory is about to close,” said Fatih Birol,
the IEA’s chief economist. In fact, he continued, “When I look at
this data, the trend is perfectly in line with a temperature increase
of about six degrees.” That’s almost 11 degrees Fahrenheit, which
would create a planet straight out of science fiction.
So,
new data in hand, everyone at the Rio conference renewed their ritual
calls for serious international action to move us back to a
two-degree trajectory. The charade will continue in November, when
the next Conference of the Parties (COP) of the U.N. Framework
Convention on Climate Change convenes in Qatar. This will be COP 18 –
COP 1 was held in Berlin in 1995, and since then the process has
accomplished essentially nothing. Even scientists, who are
notoriously reluctant to speak out, are slowly overcoming their
natural preference to simply provide data. “The message has been
consistent for close to 30 years now,” Collins says with a wry
laugh, “and we have the instrumentation and the computer power
required to present the evidence in detail. If we choose to continue
on our present course of action, it should be done with a full
evaluation of the evidence the scientific community has presented.”
He pauses, suddenly conscious of being on the record. “I should
say, a fuller evaluation of the evidence.”
So
far, though, such calls have had little effect. We’re in the same
position we’ve been in for a quarter-century: scientific warning
followed by political inaction. Among scientists speaking off the
record, disgusted candor is the rule. One senior scientist told me,
“You know those new cigarette packs, where governments make them
put a picture of someone with a hole in their throats? Gas pumps
should have something like that.”
The
Third Number: 2,795 Gigatons
This
number is the scariest of all – one that, for the first time,
meshes the political and scientific dimensions of our dilemma. It was
highlighted last summer by the Carbon Tracker Initiative, a team of
London financial analysts and environmentalists who published a
report in an effort to educate investors about the possible risks
that climate change poses to their stock portfolios. The number
describes the amount of carbon already contained in the proven coal
and oil and gas reserves of the fossil-fuel companies, and the
countries (think Venezuela or Kuwait) that act like fossil-fuel
companies. In short, it’s the fossil fuel we’re currently
planning to burn. And the key point is that this new number – 2,795
– is higher than 565. Five times higher.
The
Carbon Tracker Initiative – led by James Leaton, an
environmentalist who served as an adviser at the accounting giant
PricewaterhouseCoopers – combed through proprietary databases to
figure out how much oil, gas and coal the world’s major energy
companies hold in reserve. The numbers aren’t perfect – they
don’t fully reflect the recent surge in unconventional energy
sources like shale gas, and they don’t accurately reflect coal
reserves, which are subject to less stringent reporting requirements
than oil and gas. But for the biggest companies, the figures are
quite exact: If you burned everything in the inventories of Russia’s
Lukoil and America’s ExxonMobil, for instance, which lead the list
of oil and gas companies, each would release more than 40 gigatons of
carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.
Which
is exactly why this new number, 2,795 gigatons, is such a big deal.
Think of two degrees Celsius as the legal drinking limit –
equivalent to the 0.08 blood-alcohol level below which you might get
away with driving home. The 565 gigatons is how many drinks you could
have and still stay below that limit – the six beers, say, you
might consume in an evening. And the 2,795 gigatons? That’s the
three 12-packs the fossil-fuel industry has on the table, already
opened and ready to pour.
We
have five times as much oil and coal and gas on the books as climate
scientists think is safe to burn. We’d have to keep 80 percent of
those reserves locked away underground to avoid that fate. Before we
knew those numbers, our fate had been likely. Now, barring some
massive intervention, it seems certain.
Yes,
this coal and gas and oil is still technically in the soil. But it’s
already economically aboveground – it’s figured into share
prices, companies are borrowing money against it, nations are basing
their budgets on the presumed returns from their patrimony. It
explains why the big fossil-fuel companies have fought so hard to
prevent the regulation of carbon dioxide – those reserves are their
primary asset, the holding that gives their companies their value.
It’s why they’ve worked so hard these past years to figure out
how to unlock the oil in Canada’s tar sands, or how to drill miles
beneath the sea, or how to frack the Appalachians.
If
you told Exxon or Lukoil that, in order to avoid wrecking the
climate, they couldn’t pump out their reserves, the value of their
companies would plummet. John Fullerton, a former managing director
at JP Morgan who now runs the Capital Institute, calculates that at
today’s market value, those 2,795 gigatons of carbon emissions are
worth about $27 trillion. Which is to say, if you paid attention to
the scientists and kept 80 percent of it underground, you’d be
writing off $20 trillion in assets. The numbers aren’t exact, of
course, but that carbon bubble makes the housing bubble look small by
comparison. It won’t necessarily burst – we might well burn all
that carbon, in which case investors will do fine. But if we do, the
planet will crater. You can have a healthy fossil-fuel balance sheet,
or a relatively healthy planet – but now that we know the numbers,
it looks like you can’t have both. Do the math: 2,795 is five times
565. That’s how the story ends.
So
far, as I said at the start, environmental efforts to tackle global
warming have failed. The planet’s emissions of carbon dioxide
continue to soar, especially as developing countries emulate (and
supplant) the industries of the West. Even in rich countries, small
reductions in emissions offer no sign of the real break with the
status quo we’d need to upend the iron logic of these three
numbers. Germany is one of the only big countries that has actually
tried hard to change its energy mix; on one sunny Saturday in late
May, that northern-latitude nation generated nearly half its power
from solar panels within its borders. That’s a small miracle –
and it demonstrates that we have the technology to solve our
problems. But we lack the will. So far, Germany’s the exception;
the rule is ever more carbon.
This
record of failure means we know a lot about what strategies don’t
work. Green groups, for instance, have spent a lot of time trying to
change individual lifestyles: the iconic twisty light bulb has been
installed by the millions, but so have a new generation of
energy-sucking flatscreen TVs. Most of us are fundamentally
ambivalent about going green: We like cheap flights to warm places,
and we’re certainly not going to give them up if everyone else is
still taking them. Since all of us are in some way the beneficiaries
of cheap fossil fuel, tackling climate change has been like trying to
build a movement against yourself – it’s as if the gay-rights
movement had to be constructed entirely from evangelical preachers,
or the abolition movement from slaveholders.
People
perceive – correctly – that their individual actions will not
make a decisive difference in the atmospheric concentration of CO2;
by 2010, a poll found that “while recycling is widespread in
America and 73 percent of those polled are paying bills online in
order to save paper,” only four percent had reduced their utility
use and only three percent had purchased hybrid cars. Given a hundred
years, you could conceivably change lifestyles enough to matter –
but time is precisely what we lack.
A
more efficient method, of course, would be to work through the
political system, and environmentalists have tried that, too, with
the same limited success. They’ve patiently lobbied leaders, trying
to convince them of our peril and assuming that politicians would
heed the warnings. Sometimes it has seemed to work. Barack Obama, for
instance, campaigned more aggressively about climate change than any
president before him – the night he won the nomination, he told
supporters that his election would mark the moment “the rise of the
oceans began to slow and the planet began to heal.” And he has
achieved one significant change: a steady increase in the fuel
efficiency mandated for automobiles. It’s the kind of measure,
adopted a quarter-century ago, that would have helped enormously. But
in light of the numbers I’ve just described, it’s obviously a
very small start indeed.
At
this point, effective action would require actually keeping most of
the carbon the fossil-fuel industry wants to burn safely in the soil,
not just changing slightly the speed at which it’s burned. And
there the president, apparently haunted by the still-echoing cry of
“Drill, baby, drill,” has gone out of his way to frack and mine.
His secretary of interior, for instance, opened up a huge swath of
the Powder River Basin in Wyoming for coal extraction: The total
basin contains some 67.5 gigatons worth of carbon (or more than 10
percent of the available atmospheric space). He’s doing the same
thing with Arctic and offshore drilling; in fact, as he explained on
the stump in March, “You have my word that we will keep drilling
everywhere we can… That’s a commitment that I make.” The next
day, in a yard full of oil pipe in Cushing, Oklahoma, the president
promised to work on wind and solar energy but, at the same time, to
speed up fossil-fuel development: “Producing more oil and gas here
at home has been, and will continue to be, a critical part of an
all-of-the-above energy strategy.” That is, he’s committed to
finding even more stock to add to the 2,795-gigaton inventory of
unburned carbon.
Sometimes
the irony is almost Borat-scale obvious: In early June, Secretary of
State Hillary Clinton traveled on a Norwegian research trawler to see
firsthand the growing damage from climate change. “Many of the
predictions about warming in the Arctic are being surpassed by the
actual data,” she said, describing the sight as “sobering.” But
the discussions she traveled to Scandinavia to have with other
foreign ministers were mostly about how to make sure Western nations
get their share of the estimated $9 trillion in oil (that’s more
than 90 billion barrels, or 37 gigatons of carbon) that will become
accessible as the Arctic ice melts. Last month, the Obama
administration indicated that it would give Shell permission to start
drilling in sections of the Arctic.
Almost
every government with deposits of hydrocarbons straddles the same
divide. Canada, for instance, is a liberal democracy renowned for its
internationalism – no wonder, then, that it signed on to the Kyoto
treaty, promising to cut its carbon emissions substantially by 2012.
But the rising price of oil suddenly made the tar sands of Alberta
economically attractive – and since, as NASA climatologist James
Hansen pointed out in May, they contain as much as 240 gigatons of
carbon (or almost half of the available space if we take the 565
limit seriously), that meant Canada’s commitment to Kyoto was
nonsense. In December, the Canadian government withdrew from the
treaty before it faced fines for failing to meet its commitments.
The
same kind of hypocrisy applies across the ideological board: In his
speech to the Copenhagen conference, Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez quoted
Rosa Luxemburg, Jean-Jacques Rousseau and “Christ the Redeemer,”
insisting that “climate change is undoubtedly the most devastating
environmental problem of this century.” But the next spring, in the
Simon Bolivar Hall of the state-run oil company, he signed an
agreement with a consortium of international players to develop the
vast Orinoco tar sands as “the most significant engine for a
comprehensive development of the entire territory and Venezuelan
population.” The Orinoco deposits are larger than Alberta’s –
taken together, they’d fill up the whole available atmospheric
space.
So:
the paths we have tried to tackle global warming have so far produced
only gradual, halting shifts. A rapid, transformative change would
require building a movement, and movements require enemies. As John
F. Kennedy put it, “The civil rights movement should thank God for
Bull Connor. He’s helped it as much as Abraham Lincoln.” And
enemies are what climate change has lacked.
But
what all these climate numbers make painfully, usefully clear is that
the planet does indeed have an enemy – one far more committed to
action than governments or individuals. Given this hard math, we need
to view the fossil-fuel industry in a new light. It has become a
rogue industry, reckless like no other force on Earth. It is Public
Enemy Number One to the survival of our planetary civilization. “Lots
of companies do rotten things in the course of their business – pay
terrible wages, make people work in sweatshops – and we pressure
them to change those practices,” says veteran anti-corporate leader
Naomi Klein, who is at work on a book about the climate crisis. “But
these numbers make clear that with the fossil-fuel industry, wrecking
the planet is their business model. It’s what they do.”
According
to the Carbon Tracker report, if Exxon burns its current reserves, it
would use up more than seven percent of the available atmospheric
space between us and the risk of two degrees. BP is just behind,
followed by the Russian firm Gazprom, then Chevron, ConocoPhillips
and Shell, each of which would fill between three and four percent.
Taken together, just these six firms, of the 200 listed in the Carbon
Tracker report, would use up more than a quarter of the remaining
two-degree budget. Severstal, the Russian mining giant, leads the
list of coal companies, followed by firms like BHP Billiton and
Peabody. The numbers are simply staggering – this industry, and
this industry alone, holds the power to change the physics and
chemistry of our planet, and they’re planning to use it.
They’re
clearly cognizant of global warming – they employ some of the
world’s best scientists, after all, and they’re bidding on all
those oil leases made possible by the staggering melt of Arctic ice.
And yet they relentlessly search for more hydrocarbons – in early
March, Exxon CEO Rex Tillerson told Wall Street analysts that the
company plans to spend $37 billion a year through 2016 (about $100
million a day) searching for yet more oil and gas.
There’s
not a more reckless man on the planet than Tillerson. Late last
month, on the same day the Colorado fires reached their height, he
told a New York audience that global warming is real, but dismissed
it as an “engineering problem” that has “engineering
solutions.” Such as? “Changes to weather patterns that move
crop-production areas around – we’ll adapt to that.” This in a
week when Kentucky farmers were reporting that corn kernels were
“aborting” in record heat, threatening a spike in global food
prices. “The fear factor that people want to throw out there to
say, ‘We just have to stop this,’ I do not accept,” Tillerson
said. Of course not – if he did accept it, he’d have to keep his
reserves in the ground. Which would cost him money. It’s not an
engineering problem, in other words – it’s a greed problem.
You
could argue that this is simply in the nature of these companies –
that having found a profitable vein, they’re compelled to keep
mining it, more like efficient automatons than people with free will.
But as the Supreme Court has made clear, they are people of a sort.
In fact, thanks to the size of its bankroll, the fossil-fuel industry
has far more free will than the rest of us. These companies don’t
simply exist in a world whose hungers they fulfill – they help
create the boundaries of that world.
Left
to our own devices, citizens might decide to regulate carbon and stop
short of the brink; according to a recent poll, nearly two-thirds of
Americans would back an international agreement that cut carbon
emissions 90 percent by 2050. But we aren’t left to our own
devices. The Koch brothers, for instance, have a combined wealth of
$50 billion, meaning they trail only Bill Gates on the list of
richest Americans. They’ve made most of their money in
hydrocarbons, they know any system to regulate carbon would cut those
profits, and they reportedly plan to lavish as much as $200 million
on this year’s elections. In 2009, for the first time, the U.S.
Chamber of Commerce surpassed both the Republican and Democratic
National Committees on political spending; the following year, more
than 90 percent of the Chamber’s cash went to GOP candidates, many
of whom deny the existence of global warming. Not long ago, the
Chamber even filed a brief with the EPA urging the agency not to
regulate carbon – should the world’s scientists turn out to be
right and the planet heats up, the Chamber advised, “populations
can acclimatize to warmer climates via a range of behavioral,
physiological and technological adaptations.” As radical goes,
demanding that we change our physiology seems right up there.
Environmentalists,
understandably, have been loath to make the fossil-fuel industry
their enemy, respecting its political power and hoping instead to
convince these giants that they should turn away from coal, oil and
gas and transform themselves more broadly into “energy companies.”
Sometimes that strategy appeared to be working – emphasis on
appeared. Around the turn of the century, for instance, BP made a
brief attempt to restyle itself as “Beyond Petroleum,” adapting a
logo that looked like the sun and sticking solar panels on some of
its gas stations. But its investments in alternative energy were
never more than a tiny fraction of its budget for hydrocarbon
exploration, and after a few years, many of those were wound down as
new CEOs insisted on returning to the company’s “core business.”
In December, BP finally closed its solar division. Shell shut down
its solar and wind efforts in 2009. The five biggest oil companies
have made more than $1 trillion in profits since the millennium –
there’s simply too much money to be made on oil and gas and coal to
go chasing after zephyrs and sunbeams.
Much
of that profit stems from a single historical accident: Alone among
businesses, the fossil-fuel industry is allowed to dump its main
waste, carbon dioxide, for free. Nobody else gets that break – if
you own a restaurant, you have to pay someone to cart away your
trash, since piling it in the street would breed rats. But the
fossil-fuel industry is different, and for sound historical reasons:
Until a quarter-century ago, almost no one knew that CO2 was
dangerous. But now that we understand that carbon is heating the
planet and acidifying the oceans, its price becomes the central
issue.
If
you put a price on carbon, through a direct tax or other methods, it
would enlist markets in the fight against global warming. Once Exxon
has to pay for the damage its carbon is doing to the atmosphere, the
price of its products would rise. Consumers would get a strong signal
to use less fossil fuel – every time they stopped at the pump,
they’d be reminded that you don’t need a semimilitary vehicle to
go to the grocery store. The economic playing field would now be a
level one for nonpolluting energy sources. And you could do it all
without bankrupting citizens – a so-called “fee-and-dividend”
scheme would put a hefty tax on coal and gas and oil, then simply
divide up the proceeds, sending everyone in the country a check each
month for their share of the added costs of carbon. By switching to
cleaner energy sources, most people would actually come out ahead.
There’s
only one problem: Putting a price on carbon would reduce the
profitability of the fossil-fuel industry. After all, the answer to
the question “How high should the price of carbon be?” is “High
enough to keep those carbon reserves that would take us past two
degrees safely in the ground.” The higher the price on carbon, the
more of those reserves would be worthless. The fight, in the end, is
about whether the industry will succeed in its fight to keep its
special pollution break alive past the point of climate catastrophe,
or whether, in the economists’ parlance, we’ll make them
internalize those externalities.
It’s
not clear, of course, that the power of the fossil-fuel industry can
be broken. The U.K. analysts who wrote the Carbon Tracker report and
drew attention to these numbers had a relatively modest goal – they
simply wanted to remind investors that climate change poses a very
real risk to the stock prices of energy companies. Say something so
big finally happens (a giant hurricane swamps Manhattan, a
megadrought wipes out Midwest agriculture) that even the political
power of the industry is inadequate to restrain legislators, who
manage to regulate carbon. Suddenly those Chevron reserves would be a
lot less valuable, and the stock would tank. Given that risk, the
Carbon Tracker report warned investors to lessen their exposure,
hedge it with some big plays in alternative energy.
“The
regular process of economic evolution is that businesses are left
with stranded assets all the time,” says Nick Robins, who runs
HSBC’s Climate Change Centre. “Think of film cameras, or
typewriters. The question is not whether this will happen. It will.
Pension systems have been hit by the dot-com and credit crunch.
They’ll be hit by this.” Still, it hasn’t been easy to convince
investors, who have shared in the oil industry’s record profits.
“The reason you get bubbles,” sighs Leaton, “is that everyone
thinks they’re the best analyst – that they’ll go to the edge
of the cliff and then jump back when everyone else goes over.”
So
pure self-interest probably won’t spark a transformative challenge
to fossil fuel. But moral outrage just might – and that’s the
real meaning of this new math. It could, plausibly, give rise to a
real movement.
Once,
in recent corporate history, anger forced an industry to make basic
changes. That was the campaign in the 1980s demanding divestment from
companies doing business in South Africa. It rose first on college
campuses and then spread to municipal and state governments; 155
campuses eventually divested, and by the end of the decade, more than
80 cities, 25 states and 19 counties had taken some form of binding
economic action against companies connected to the apartheid regime.
“The end of apartheid stands as one of the crowning accomplishments
of the past century,” as Archbishop Desmond Tutu put it, “but we
would not have succeeded without the help of international pressure,”
especially from “the divestment movement of the 1980s.”
The
fossil-fuel industry is obviously a tougher opponent, and even if you
could force the hand of particular companies, you’d still have to
figure out a strategy for dealing with all the sovereign nations
that, in effect, act as fossil-fuel companies. But the link for
college students is even more obvious in this case. If their
college’s endowment portfolio has fossil-fuel stock, then their
educations are being subsidized by investments that guarantee they
won’t have much of a planet on which to make use of their degree.
(The same logic applies to the world’s largest investors, pension
funds, which are also theoretically interested in the future –
that’s when their members will “enjoy their retirement.”)
“Given the severity of the climate crisis, a comparable demand that
our institutions dump stock from companies that are destroying the
planet would not only be appropriate but effective,” says Bob
Massie, a former anti-apartheid activist who helped found the
Investor Network on Climate Risk. “The message is simple: We have
had enough. We must sever the ties with those who profit from climate
change – now.”
Movements
rarely have predictable outcomes. But any campaign that weakens the
fossil-fuel industry’s political standing clearly increases the
chances of retiring its special breaks. Consider President Obama’s
signal achievement in the climate fight, the large increase he won in
mileage requirements for cars. Scientists, environmentalists and
engineers had advocated such policies for decades, but until Detroit
came under severe financial pressure, it was politically powerful
enough to fend them off. If people come to understand the cold,
mathematical truth – that the fossil-fuel industry is
systematically undermining the planet’s physical systems – it
might weaken it enough to matter politically. Exxon and their ilk
might drop their opposition to a fee-and-dividend solution; they
might even decide to become true energy companies, this time for
real.
Even
if such a campaign is possible, however, we may have waited too long
to start it. To make a real difference – to keep us under a
temperature increase of two degrees – you’d need to change carbon
pricing in Washington, and then use that victory to leverage similar
shifts around the world. At this point, what happens in the U.S. is
most important for how it will influence China and India, where
emissions are growing fastest. (In early June, researchers concluded
that China has probably under-reported its emissions by up to 20
percent.) The three numbers I’ve described are daunting – they
may define an essentially impossible future. But at least they
provide intellectual clarity about the greatest challenge humans have
ever faced. We know how much we can burn, and we know who’s
planning to burn more. Climate change operates on a geological scale
and time frame, but it’s not an impersonal force of nature; the
more carefully you do the math, the more thoroughly you realize that
this is, at bottom, a moral issue; we have met the enemy and they is
Shell.
Meanwhile
the tide of numbers continues. The week after the Rio conference
limped to its conclusion, Arctic sea ice hit the lowest level ever
recorded for that date. Last month, on a single weekend, Tropical
Storm Debby dumped more than 20 inches of rain on Florida – the
earliest the season’s fourth-named cyclone has ever arrived. At the
same time, the largest fire in New Mexico history burned on, and the
most destructive fire in Colorado’s annals claimed 346 homes in
Colorado Springs – breaking a record set the week before in Fort
Collins. This month, scientists issued a new study concluding that
global warming has dramatically increased the likelihood of severe
heat and drought – days after a heat wave across the Plains and
Midwest broke records that had stood since the Dust Bowl, threatening
this year’s harvest. You want a big number? In the course of this
month, a quadrillion kernels of corn need to pollinate across the
grain belt, something they can’t do if temperatures remain off the
charts. Just like us, our crops are adapted to the Holocene, the
11,000-year period of climatic stability we’re now leaving… in
the dust.
This
story is from the August 2nd, 2012 issue of Rolling Stone.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.