Smokey haze, intense heat, encampments of evacuated residents next to the highway: these were the conditions that greeted Renee Lertzman when she recently drove through Oregon. Itโs no wonder why the environmental psychology researcher and professor resorts to the term โapocalypticโ to describe theย scene.
โIt was a surreal experience,โ says Lertzman, who teaches at Victoriaโs Royal Roads University. โWeโre all driving along and itโs so smoky and itโs terrifying. Yet weโre all doing our summer vacation thing. I couldnโt help but wonder: what is going on, how are people feeling and talking aboutย this?โ
Itโs really the question of the hour. Catastrophic wildfires and droughts have engulfed much of the continent, with thousands displaced from their homes; air quality alerts confine many of the lucky remainder behind locked doors (with exercise minimized and fresh-air intakes closed).
Firefighters have been summoned from around the world to battle the unprecedented fires, which are undoubtedly exacerbated by climate change. Yet the seemingly reasonable assumption that witnessing such horrific natural disasters may increase support for action on climate change is vastly overestimated, Lertzman tells DeSmogย Canada.
โI think itโs a fantasy that the worse things get and the more intense the effects are โฆ that will magically translate into a public and political recognition and engagement and getting on board,โ she says. โThereโs an abundance of evidence thatโs not the case and that humans have enormous capacity to avoid and deny reality and whatโs staring us right in theย face.โ
34 โDragons of Inactionโ Impede Climateย Action
Humansโ tendency toward denial and avoidance is incredibly complex andย entrenched.
Robert Gifford, professor of psychology and environmental studies at University of Victoria, has charted 34 (previously 29) โdragons of inaction,โ which prevent people from responding to evidence of climate change, ranging from a naive belief in โtechnosalvation,โ to lack of attachment to geographic place, to straight-upย denial.
While often tangled and deeply rooted, Gifford optimistically concluded a 2011 paper for American Psychologist with the statement: โThe dragons of inaction can be beaten back, if notย slain.โ
In an interview with DeSmog Canada, Gifford says he experienced an epiphanic moment about climate change while gazing out at Victoriaโs inner harbour and noticing a brown pelican, a bird uncommon in the region. Recent events, such as limbs dropping from Garry oak trees due to drought conditions, may serve as โthe brown pelican moment for a lot of people in Victoria,โ heย says.
But itโs a very delicate situation. If large environmental organizations resort to overkill in responding to such conditions (as they have in the past, Gifford says), such efforts may alienate supporters instead of confronting the aforementionedย dragons.
โGoing back to the old anti-smoking literature, fear messages can go too far,โ he says. โNot that theyโre always wrong but if you show pictures of people who are on their death bed, people just block it out. You have to get people concerned, but canโt go too far. And you especially canโt give wrong information: not only does it not work, but it gives fodder to the badย guys.โ
Moving Beyondย Paralysis
Itโs an issue many environmental psychologists are concerned about. Lertzman contendsย that plenty of people care deeply about climate change but are often paralyzed by the sheer enormity of theย issue.
Visual representations of Albertaโs oilsands are frequently juxtaposed with images of devastating fires and floods, a combination that fails to acknowledge the โlived experienced or texture in our lives related to carbon and fossil fuels and coalโ and creates a โhuge vacuum where people can get mired and reallyย stuck.โ
Much of the issue returns to perceptions about the potential for individual and communal impact to help adapt and mitigate climate change (a concept broadly known as the โinternal locus of controlโ).
Gifford stresses that empowerment messages are far more successful than calls for sacrifice. Lertzman echoes that sentiment, pointing to three โAsโ that anchor responses to situations like the summer of 2015 โ anxiety, ambivalence and aspiration โ and that many environmental efforts can miss the mark if they fail to recognize the emotional significance ofย each.
She suggests itโs very important โto lead with that really human response: Iโm really scared or Iโm feeling really sad or confused or overwhelmed. The more we name and acknowledge that, the more it really does help us leverage the burning platform โ an awful phrase given the situation โ to leverage the crises that are merging and are only going toย continue.โ
Itโll also take a lot of compassion, she says, beginning with compassion for ourselves: most North Americans live very carbon-intensive lives. This fact is further convoluted by the โdragonsโ โ Gifford points to two in particular as plaguing energy-producing provinces like Alberta: sunk costs (if you work or hold investments in the oilsands, youโre more likely to rationalize it) and system justification (if things are working, donโt rock the boat). Yet both are optimistic that encounters with wildfires and droughts โ whether in person or via the media โ can help move the needle on climate change action, if communicatedย correctly.
โThereโs real opportunity there because it can force us to really think creatively and critically about how we live and how we want to live and what kind of future we want to have,โ Lertzmanย concludes.
Photo: Lizard Lake wildfire by B.C. Wildfireย Service.
Subscribe to our newsletter
Stay up to date with DeSmog news and alerts