It’s not often that an article about climate change becomes one of the most hotly debated issues on the internet — especially in the midst of a controversial G20 summit.

But that exact thing happened following the publication of a lengthy essay in New York Magazine titled “The Uninhabitable Earth: Famine, Economic Collapse, a Sun that Cooks Us: What Climate Change Could Wreak — Sooner Than You Think.”

In the course of 7,200 words, author David Wallace-Wells chronicled the possible impacts of catastrophic climate change if current emissions trends are maintained, including, but certainly not limited to: mass permafrost melt and methane leaks, mass extinctions, fatal heat waves, drought and food insecurity, diseases and viruses, “rolling death smog,” global conflict and war, economic collapse and ocean acidification.

Slate political writer Jamelle Bouie described the essay on Twitter as “something that will haunt your nightmares.”

It’s a fair assessment. Reading it feels like a series of punches in the gut, triggering emotions like despair, hopelessness and resignation.

But here’s the thing: many climate psychologists and communicators consider those feelings to be the very opposite of what will compel people to action.

“Based on my research on climate communications, this article is exactly what we don’t need,” says Per Espen Stoknes, Norwegian psychologist and author of What We Think About When We Try Not to Think About Global Warming: Toward a New Psychology of Climate Action, in an interview with DeSmog Canada.

“It only serves to further alarm the already alarmed segment of people. ”

Climate Psychologists Recommends ‘Positivity Ratio’ of 3:1

Let’s get one thing out of the way.

Critics of the New York Magazine article — and other instances of doomsday journalism — are not anti-science. These are all people who firmly recognize the severity of catastrophic climate change, and are certainly not petitioning for a bury-your-head-in-the-sand approach, shielding the public from the potential horrors.

Rather, they suggest that most people will only process such facts about climate change if it’s framed in an appropriate way that acknowledges how individuals and societies respond to potentially traumatic threats.

“It’s really important to understand that it’s not just about facts and numbers, but having a way for people to interpret them and know there’s something they can do,” says Kari Marie Norgaard, associate professor of sociology and environmental studies at the University of Oregon and author of Living in Denial: Climate Change, Emotions, and Everyday Life, in an interview with DeSmog Canada.

Stoknes notes there’s a well-known “positivity ratio” for optimal engagement of a 3:1 ratio of opportunities to threats. He says the New York Magazine piece was around nine threats to every one proposed solution.

In other words, a tripling of the ratio in the wrong direction.

Article Sticks to Hard Science, Ignoring Role of Social Sciences

The author of the New York Magazine article has already responded to a series of criticisms on Twitter, including on the scientific merit of some of his claims.

A rather revealing moment was when Wallace-Wells replied to a critique from renowned futurist Alex Steffen — who had described the article as “one long council of despair” — by suggesting that “my own feeling is that ignorance about what’s at stake is a much bigger problem.”

The clear implication is that Wallace-Wells assumes a confronting of ignorance about scientific facts could help compel people to action and avoid the most dangerous manifestations of climate change.

But Daniel Aldana Cohen — assistant professor of sociology at the University of Pennsylvania and author of the response piece in Jacobin titled “New York Mag’s Climate Disaster Porn Gets It Painfully Wrong” — suggests in an interview with DeSmog Canada that Wallace-Well’s approach indicates a failure to engage with any questions about broader sociopolitical systems.

“I think in the politics of climate change, a narrow idea of climate science is fetishized,” says Cohen, adding that even the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change largely fails to include social sciences in working group reports.

“It feels like the most realistic, the most unvarnished truth is what the science predicts,” he continues. “But the thing is that in some way, climate science registers the impact of human activity, but it’s not actually an integrated account of the dynamic feedback between social and political activities and physical events in the atmosphere.”

In other words, Wallace-Wells’ article sketches out a narrative of catastrophic climate change that assumes people don’t act on the knowledge of the situation.

But in a cruel twist, by only focusing on the science without any attempt to contextualize it in society or political systems, it could well have the reverse effect by making readers feel even more powerless.

This isn’t a new problem: Stoknes notes that as identified by James Painter of Oxford University’s Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism, about 80 per cent of media coverage on the last Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change assessment report used “catastrophe framing,” with less than 10 per cent using “opportunity framing.”

“It’s not just about pointing your fingers at the climate skeptics and saying that’s the problem,” Norgaard says.

“Of course, it’s a major problem. But the apathy or acquiescence of the majority of people who are aware and do care is a larger problem. It’s about how we mobilize those people.”

If Framed Correctly, Idea of Apocalypse Can Help People Imagine Alternatives

Stoknes argues that thinking about such a sobering subject as apocalypse or death, if done correctly, can actually help people conceptualize new ways of thinking and being.

“This psychological approach to the apocalypse is very important, and I found it completely absent in the article,” he says. “It is not about predicting a certain year in the future of linear time, when everything will be collapsing. Maybe this notion is more like a call in the here and now, calling attention to the urgent need for a deep rethink of where we are and letting go of some cherished Western notions that we’ve been stuck in over the last century.”

Such a sentiment is echoed by climate psychologist Renee Lertzman and author of Environmental Melancholia: Psychoanalytic Dimensions of Engagement, who emphasizes in an interview with DeSmog Canada that predictable fault lines have formed in the wake of the New York Magazine piece.

A key factor for her is how humans actually process information that may be challenging and bring up difficult feelings. She says the consensus is that we can become “cognitively impaired” when the brain’s limbic system becomes activated, resulting in reduced capacity to have functions for strategy, foresight, collaboration and tolerance.

“That goes out the window when your limbic system is activated, which arguably articles like this are going to do,” she says. “The best way to deal with that reality is to address how we can soothe and disarm our defences.”

‘We Need to Also Be Engaged in Collective Political Action and Solutions’

That’s certainly not going to be an easy feat. But there are plenty of initiatives out there that are embracing a bit more nuance.

Lertzman points to Project Drawdown — an attempt to compile the 100 top solutions to climate change — as a powerful initiative, although she suggests “even that is missing the emotional taking stock of where we are.” Cohen shouted out the work of the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication and Texas Tech climate scientist Katharine Hayhoe.

But central to progressing beyond the gridlock of current climate discourse is likely via bringing it closer to the local level, where people feel they can actually influence things.

CBC’s new podcast 2050: Degrees of Change is a good example of this. While it paints a dramatic picture of life in B.C. under climate change, it also uses a scenario under which the world has drastically decreased greenhouse gas emissions.

“We wanted listeners to end off realizing this is a middle of the road scenario and things could be worse and they could be better depending on what we choose to do now,” Johanna Wagstaffe, podcast host and CBC senior meteorologist, told DeSmog Canada.

Norgaard says engaging with issues on a local level can give people a leverage point into even greater engagement.

“We really need to on the one hand be aware that it’s something we need to respond to as a collective,” she says. “Riding your bike is great, but we need to also be engaged in collective political action and solutions. That’s part of what helps people to do something proactive that’s real.”

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We’re only a minute into watching a brief low-budget video — one that begins by alleging U.S. President Barack Obama is a bully because he suggests that climate change deniers should be “called out” — when Ezra Levant sits down in the chair next to me.

The Rebel Commander himself.

According to organizers, he’s the reason attendance of tonight’s $45-per-head fundraiser in Calgary — casually titled “Climate Leadership Catastrophe: Carbon Taxes, Job Loss, Freedoms Denied” and organized by the so-called “Friends of Science” — spiked from 200 to 445 people after he was announced as its keynote speaker.

And he’s the same intensely controversial pundit who I met in late November at another Calgary event called “Generation Screwed” which I covered for Vice Canada while wearing a “Dreamy Trudeau” sweater.

“Hey James,” he says, reaching out his hand to shake mine.

We briefly chat as the video moves on to clips of testimonies from human-caused climate change denying scientists like Roy Spencer and Willie Soon (the latter took $1.25 million from fossil fuel companies and lobby groups for his research). Levant relays a hilarious and self-deprecating story to me about his flight from Toronto to Calgary during which another person fell asleep on him.

I scribble a few observations in a notepad. He scrolls through his phone, probably Twitter mentions given he sports almost 50,000 followers.

After a few minutes he gets up to leave. I remind him that I tweeted at him a while back about how the Alberta NDP was elected on Karl Marx’s birthday, which seems like crucial information to include in his vehemently anti-NDP and pro-capitalist online show.

We opt to “follow” each other on Twitter. He wanders off.

The whole interaction seemed tense. But also, well, profound; Levant has a disposition that makes one feel strangely a part of something, even if you’re ideologically opposed to him.

It’s awfully disconcerting.

Little has happened in the interim. The slides that greeted each attendee as they walked in and had their tickets scanned by an enthused 15-year-old boy before moving to the buffet tables set the tone for the evening: “Say No To Climate Co2ercion,” “$WINDle,” “Climate — Change Your Mind.”

The video, itself backgrounded with close-up shots of the stars of the American flag, features a bizarre graduation of presumed rights from “freedom of thought,” to “freedom of rational dissent” to “freedom to expose the 97 per cent consensus propaganda.”

Such pun-inspired sayings seem hokey at best. But as the remainder of the night proves, dismissing such sloganeering is as dangerous as ignoring what makes Levant a genuinely enjoyable human to interact with.

For denial of human-caused climate change has very little to do with facts or data (which is why they can argue that CO2 has nothing to do with increased average temperatures and, minutes later, point out that forest fires produce far more emissions than human activity which seems to acknowledge the relevance of CO2 to the discussion).

Many climate change psychologists have observed that one’s views on the issue depend heavily on factors such as in-group biases, pre-existing political leanings and personal connections to carbon-intensive lifestyles.

As a result, it seems deeply naive to chalk the existence of groups like Friends of Science up to a lack of info. Pushing facts like the 97 per cent tidbit will likely only further alienate this kind of audience, fostering a martyr complex.

Take the night’s first presentation. The speaker, John Harper, has worked as a petroleum geologist for the likes of ConocoPhillips and Shell Canada. It’s unclear why he was picked as the person to deliver the technical lecture as opposed to, say, an actual atmospheric or climate scientist.

“What are the rocks telling us?” serves as his mantra for the talk, despite the fact the Geological Society of America agrees that “human activities … are the dominant cause of the rapid warming since the middle 1900s.”

The levels of carbon as measured by parts per million are nothing compared to previous eons, he says, “and the earth is still here” (a curious notion given there’s no way humans could exist in such conditions). He suggests global warming is inevitable. The real problems are population growth and human excrement. Blame the sun.

The trap that believers in human-caused climate change fall into is they rely on interpretation instead of actual assessment of the data, Harper says; he doesn’t know what politicians pushing for policy to address climate change even mean by “evidence-based.”

This statement is made entirely unironically.

Most attendees seem fairly disinterested. Ringtones keep going off.

The only truly captivating part of the entire presentation is an illegible graphic that spastically bounces up and down to demonstrate the fluctuations in average temperatures across the millennia.

The science presented is near impossible to follow.

But it doesn’t matter what Harper says. The point isn’t that he says the right things but that he is the right person: someone who the crowd can trust (former director of energy at the Geological Survey of Canada) and presenting in the right place (after a tasty meal and while sitting among people who look and think like you).

Levant — the star of the event — is announced as someone who’s been deemed by various publications as the “most irritating” and “talking head you’d most like to silence.” Each “achievement” is greeted with a raucous applause. The emcee, Michelle Sterling, clarifies that “I didn’t write this, by the way, they gave this to me.”

Of course she didn’t. Levant is a perfectly composed character. It’s very tricky to discern what he actually believes and what he plays up for a profit.

Either way, his intro as a “rebel” perfectly serves his cause: he’s an iconoclast representing the few who refuse to believe in human-caused climate change (just because a vast majority of scientists happen to).

Levant has no specific focus in his sermons. There’s certainly a thematic goal though: building a staggeringly convincing enemy-oriented narrative by pointing out the hypocrisy, insensitivity and alleged anti-Albertan nature of government and environmental organizations.

In the span of half-hour, he hops from slamming Calgary Mayor Naheed Nenshi for the Uber debacle, to ridiculing hemp rope bags, to noting that forest fires are natural, to linking environmental efforts with energy poverty, degrowth and deindustrialization (which inevitably led to a Unabomber comparison), to charting foreign donations to Canadian environmental non-profits.

Anyone who has seen Levant speak before knows the drill.

A standing ovation serves as a brief punctuation between his speech and Q&A session. Two mid-life-crisis-aged men in the washroom exchange thoughts about how “our governments are crazy,” “they’re a waste of our time and the country’s time” and how “Ralph Klein’s sacrifice” is being forgotten.

Levant’s responses to questions from the audience such as “why can’t Albertans oust the NDP?” and “why won’t governments stand up for Canada” hones in on hyper-specifics. The mainstream environmental movement’s take on GMOs is ridiculed. We’re made of carbon, we eat carbon, we exhale carbon.

He makes a fart joke (“I buy carbon credits for when I toot”). The “dairy cartel” isn’t taxed as the oil industry is even though its product — cattle — emit massive amounts of methane.

Et cetera.

It’s a spellbinding performance. The crowd occasionally responds to Levant with applause and to the targeted enemies with boos (for an ostensibly tax-averse crowd, they take the reduction of the province’s firefighting budget very, very seriously). The energy in the room can be described as nothing less than spiritual in nature.

There’s an unshakable sense of unity and drive, which likely has something to do with the fact everyone’s: a) white; b) rich; and c) feel persecuted by people concerned about climate change.

But it’s a force that must be acknowledged by climate change activists.

It’s not enough to dismiss Levant and the so-called Friends of Science as fringe groups that simply misconstrue data and graphs and decontextualized policy decisions to suit their mandates.

Of course, they do indeed do that. But such entities also tap into very powerful and deep-seated emotions — trust and pride, anxiety and anger, hyper-awareness of environmentalists who also fly around the world in private jets.

Good luck beating those back with facts. 

Image: The Rebel/Facebook

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Connecting extreme weather events with climate change isn’t exactly a new thing.

After Hurricane Sandy devastated parts of New York and New Jersey in 2012, Bloomberg published a front page spread proclaiming, “It’s Global Warming, Stupid.”

For years, major storms, droughts, floods and fires have been connected to climate change. The climate angle was even fair game during last summer’s wildfires in western Canada.

So how did the climate conversation around the still-raging Fort McMurray wildfire that destroyed thousands of homes become so befuddling-ly messed up?

Conversations about climate change as a factor in the wildfires has garnered about as much attention as the wildfires themselves. For a recap of the “middle-finger salutes,” schadenfreude and #tinyviolins mock-sympathy for the people of Fort McMurray, check out this article on Slate.

(Add in, May 12: It's worthwhile to point out that while there were a lot of unfortunate aspects of the public conversation about the fire, many environmental NGOs rallied their organizational capacity to raise money and basic support for evacuees. The executive directors of Canada's most prominent environmental groups including the David Suzuki Foundation, Ecojustice, Ecology Ottawa, Environmental Defence, Equiterre, Greenpeace, LeadNow, Sierra Club, Stand and West Coast Environmental Law urged support for evacuees in a joint press release published Friday, May 6.)

Cara Pike, climate communications expert with Climate Access, says the urge to link what’s happening in Fort McMurray to climate change should be tempered by a keen sensitivity to the very real human suffering on the ground.

“We need to lead with our humanity,” Pike told DeSmog Canada. “This is a good time to listen very, very hard to what people are dealing with, what they care about, what they want for their futures and try to find those common places.”

The rush to draw the connection between the Fort Mac fires and climate change could come across as blaming, Pike said, adding “I really personally question the timing and how best to have that conversation.”

How the #FortMcMurray #Climate Conversation Went Down in Flames https://t.co/mW2XSHVfYG #fortmacfire #ableg #cdnpoli

— DeSmog Canada (@DeSmogCanada) May 10, 2016

Canada is still behind the U.S. when it comes to understanding that climate impacts are happening here and now, Pike says. In the U.S., major hurricanes such as Katrina, Irene and Sandy, massive wildfires and long-term drought brought the climate change message to the forefront.

Pike was vice president of communications at Earth Justice during Hurricane Katrina and notes many local environmental groups were criticized for using the disaster to advance their campaigns.

“What happened there with Katrina is a parallel of what we’re seeing now with Fort McMurray,” she said.

In the case of Fort McMurray, the conversation is made “more visceral” by the tragedy occurring in an oil-producing region, Pike said.

“It creates so much more discomfort when trying to have that conversation because it inherently brings us to a place where people feel judged and blamed,” she said.

“The truth is that everyone is tied to oil and unfortunately in environmental communications there is often this dominant tone of self-righteousness. And in these crisis moments, when people put on their professional hats and go talk about these issues, it’s like they lose their humanity.”

Part of the problem lies in the polarization that infiltrates nearly every energy and environment debate in Canada — and which has emotions roiling at the surface, unleashed at the slightest provocation.

“There’s no formula for when it’s appropriate to talk about climate change,” Simon Donner, associate professor of Climatology at the University of British Columbia, told DeSmog Canada. “I think it just really depends on the circumstances of any extreme event.”

“It’s not a good idea to use people’s suffering to push an agenda, even if that agenda is scientifically defensible,” Donner said.

Underlining the current debate is the fact the fires are happening in the heart of Canada’s oilsands.

“Everyone knows what the industry is in Fort McMurray. Everyone knows that’s a source of opposition to climate policy in Canada and underneath a lot of people’s good intentions is a sense of ‘I told you so.’ What I’m saying is, let’s be nice to folks, you don’t have to be self-righteous about it.”

As a climate communicator, Donner said it’s always crucial to consider your audience.

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“If your goal for talking about climate change after an extreme event is to engage people in that community, but the community that was affected by the event is suspicious about the science of climate change, pivoting in the media to climate change while their homes are burning is just going to alienate people,” Donner said.

“It doesn’t seem like a smart way to engage the part of Canada that is resistant to action to combat climate change,” Donner added. “We need to ask: what’s effective?”

Renee Lertzman, an expert in the psychology of environmental education, said it really isn’t a question of whether we make the connection between the fires and climate change but how.

“This conversation needs to happen, but it doesn’t need to be polarizing,” Lertzman told DeSmog Canada. “The question is how can we communicate and engage with people in the most constructive and productive and effective ways?”

“We’re designed to resist challenging, threatening news and information that can potentially challenge our worldview.” Lertzman noted.

She said it can be frustrating to see climate communications that seem to “miss entirely how humans process information, particularly distressing and stressful information.”

“Climate change is really complicated in what it brings up for us. It really is, in a way, in its own category.”

That doesn’t mean it’s always inappropriate to discuss climate change in the context of disaster or tragedy.

By focusing on how all affected parties can work together to avoid tragedy, you generate feelings of inclusion and sensitivity, Lertzman said — opening the space for compassionate communications.

“It’s not about whether we make those connections, it’s about thinking through how humans deal with the trauma and acknowledging profound horror and devastation.”

Image: Fort McMurray Fire Pictures/Facebook

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This article originally appeared on Climate Access.

Those who work on climate change were both chuffed and chagrined by its role in Canada’s federal election campaign, which peaked last week with the victory of Liberal leader Justin Trudeau and defeat of Conservative incumbent Stephen Harper.

“The environment” — a catch-all concept that often encompasses concern about climate change — consistently ranked close to economy and healthcare on voters' list of top priorities. Oilsands and climate change issues took up nearly a quarter of the first leaders debate, commanding more than twice the airtime they did in 2011. Several media outlets ran editorials calling on all parties to take a strong stance on reducing GHG emissions or put a price on carbon.

To quote professor and commentator George Hoberg, “energy and environmental issues have become central to Canadian electoral politics.”

Despite all of this, climate change didn’t have a significant impact on the election’s outcome. Fundamentally this was a campaign about values where action on global warming was bundled into a broader set of aspirations and ideas that Canadians said yes to on October 19th. 

The election of Canada’s new prime minister is an important case study in the powerful potential of values-based messaging. Where the Conservative campaign sought to preserve the status quo and motivate voters with threats of an unstable or unsafe future, the Liberal campaign (and to a different extent, the New Democrats) mobilized Canadians with a vision of change centred on honesty, inclusion and fairness.

Of course, the timing couldn’t have been better. Much has been said about why Canadians’ were ready to bid farewell to one of their longer-standing leaders — corruption, fiscal mismanagement, deepening degrees of intolerance and an overt contempt for basic democratic principles being among them. Under Harper’s rule, Canada became a global pariah on climate change (the dark twin to its role as international cheerleader for the oilsands); even members of the Conservative base were beginning to question his judgment. Voters traditionally divided by ideology found common ground in their disapproval of Harper’s approach to governing, particularly his divisive tenor.

In this context, the fact that Trudeau wasn’t very scientific about how his climate plan would set him above other parties didn’t matter. Why would it, given most Canadians support emission reduction targets but can’t say what a good one looks like or how to achieve it. Election-time focus groups have been clear that Canadians rarely track the policy fine print; they’re lured in by a resonant vision. Trudeau’s generally progressive position on climate change was just one example of what made his party a desirable alternative. And for many — including those who supported strategic voting and ABC (Anything But Conservative) campaigns — what he presented was good enough.

At Climate Access, we regularly advise climate practitioners on using common values to articulate a vision of a better future, as well as the steps towards getting there. It’s a delicate approach that has the potential to come off idealistic or woo-woo if not executed thoughtfully. Certainly not for the risk-averse (neither was Trudeau’s comment about growing the economy “not from the top-down … but from the heart outwards”). But done well, values-based messaging that taps shared aspirations around fairness, equality and innovation, for example, lays the ground for the specific prescriptions or actions needed to achieve the vision. (Tools like Spitfire Strategies’ message box puts values at the start of every frame, and vision at the close.)

Values-focused campaigns can be stressful for people who work on policy. Many smart advocates grumbled over the fact that both the Liberals and NDP avoided getting specific on key aspects of their climate change strategies, including how they might price carbon and the future of oilsands development. “Instead, climate disruption was coded in symbols linked to the national social contract (between regions) and Canadian self-esteem that were much more suitable for the challenging parties,” Canadian pollster and activist John Willis told Climate Access.

This is partly why Trudeau focused on restoring the role (and independence) of science in decision making, as well as working more closely with the provinces and territories.

“The Liberal message about consulting the provinces and bringing the country together was probably the most effective message on climate (and wasn't really a message about climate policy per se, but rather a new style of collaborative governance),” communications specialist and instructor Andrew Frank told Climate Access.

Intelligent skeptics may be tempted to criticize these promises for focusing on process over outcomes. But then, commitments to restore Canada’s environmental laws and give First Nations and other stakeholders a meaningful seat at the table were also sought and received, and neither involve a scientific target.

The reality is the Trudeau-led Liberal campaign raised expectations — exponentially — about the kind of leadership, transparency and accountability Canadians can expect from their federal government going forward. And they made climate change a central indicator of their success on all of these fronts.

The opportunity for climate advocates now is to drive the details. Canadians need information on what smart climate policy looks like (i.e. a strong national action that will cut 1/3 of Canada’s carbon in the next 15 years, on the way to 100 per cent renewable energy by 2050), as well as ideas on how to measure our progress. Most people are still unclear on the connection between the oilsands and climate change (perhaps including the new prime minister, who has a mixed position on pipelines). Stories about Canada’s burgeoning renewable energy sector and job market need to be shared and promoted.

There is still lots of work to do, but it should be easier with Canadians agreeing that it’s time to do something.

Sutton Eaves is a communications strategist specializing in environmental issues. She is senior editor and strategist at Climate Access.

Image: Justin Trudeau via Flickr

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Eight years ago, climate communications expert George Marshall picked up a copy of The Independent from his doorstep on a Saturday morning. Looking at the front cover of that magazine, he said, got him thinking about the “peculiarities” of climate change.

In bold letters the headline read “The Melting Mountains: How Climate Change is Destroying the World’s Most Spectacular Landscapes” and inside it outlined how alpine tourism is at risk with roughly 50 years left before a warmer climate begins to claim the snowpack.

Marshall said what really struck him was what he saw next. “It was the Saturday newspaper, so I picked it up and out falls the travel supplement. The travel supplement is dedicated to visiting those spectacular places before they go, entirely by the medium of international flights.”

“There’s something peculiar in this and I had a long conversation with my wife about it: how there’s this disconnect between the concern expressed on the first three pages and the hedonism expressed in the travel supplement.”

He laughed, “What did Oscar Wilde say? We all kill the thing we love.”

George Marshall: Compartmentalizing Climate

Marshall works as director of projects at the Climate Outreach Information Centre in Oxford and manages climatedenial.org, a website dedicated to understanding psychological responses to climate change.

His first book, Carbon Detox: Your Step by Step Guide to Getting Real About Climate Change, was met with a lot of positive fanfare when it was published in 2007. But facing these new complexities of climate change led Marshall to write his second book: Don’t Even Think About It: Why Our Brains Are Wired to Ignore Climate Change, just released three weeks ago.

Marshall says around this same time he had the poignant experience with his Saturday edition of The Independent, The Guardian newspaper wrote an article on the 25 places to visit “while you still can.” These stories, he said, are framed in the narrative of climate change and of a vanishing world.

The way we cope with this information, Marshall suggested, is by placing conflicting narratives and antagonistic facts into different bins in our mind.

“The other thing that is interesting to me is this idea of compartmentalizing as metaphor for the way the human brain operates. That the brain is divided into these supplemental parts and each part sort of sits in one hall and doesn’t talk to the other.”

Marshall said he got thinking about the editors of The Independent who knew that their readers would be interested in climate change, but maybe also in a holiday at a ski resort.

These things aren’t incompatible in a publication, Marshall said. And neither are they incompatible in an individual.

Marshall says he’s fascinated now by these information juxtapositions he sees everywhere, like a magazine stand on a street corner that displays multiple magazine covers.

”You can see the way high-carbon consumption patterns are arranged around environmental apocalypse. Again like the newspaper, like they’re separate supplements, yet there’s a conversation going on between them,” he said.

“When we look at these things we manage to build barriers and frames around them. We divide these, again, into different compartments and zero in on them on the basis of our interests.”

Marshall said he began to focus in on the question of why he might zero in on a climate change cover, while others will be compelled in another direction. How do we make those decisions, about what we will attend to, and what we will not?

“The thing which interests me very strongly with climate change is this balance of attention and dis-attention. In the book we call it ‘why our brains are wired to ignore climate change’ but it's the word ignore that’s really short hand for dis-attention,” he said.

“What is that mechanism by which we can pay attention to some things and dis-attend others whilst being entirely conscious of the fact that we’re doing it?”

Climate Change and Multivalence

There is no authoritative story that climate change will tell, Marshall said. And that’s because climate change, more so than many other issues, is multivalent.

“It is not just something which is in the future or uncertain,” Marshall explained. “It is in the future, in the present and the past.”

Marshall said a lot of other climate psychology or theories of climate denial emphasize the future-oriented elements of climate change, or how addressing it is going to be expensive, or uncertain, or will require sacrifice.

But Marshall says there are other competing issues that could be all of these things and be conceivably less difficult to deal with than climate change. Think about a giant meteor hurtling towards earth, he said. If we know it’s going to strike in 50 years, that’s significant. That tells a narrative.

But because climate change is so multivalent, because it tells so many narratives, “it is as near to certain or uncertain as we choose it to be.”

We “pick the narrative” of climate change, Marshall said, and because of that, we can use this particular issue to tell ourselves any number of stories.

“Climate change exists for us primarily in the form of ‘social facts’ – constructed narratives based on our values and worldview.”

“So,” as an issue, Marshall said, climate change “is exceptionally open to biased interpretation.”

“It presents an incomplete narrative that calls for biased completion.”

Climate Change is the Perfect Crime

When we’re looking to diagnose a problem, we often search for a culprit, according to Marshall. But in this sense, climate change is a crime that not only has no clear culprit, but no clear intent.

“We’re all – and I say this as we’re in a room of affluent Westerners – responsible for climate change,” Marshall said, adding, “I’m not intending to cause harm. None of us are.”

Even so, climate change has been constructed in an enemy narrative, but without a clear suspect and without a clear intent.

“We are constantly trying to insert enemies into the frame of climate change,” Marshall said, and getting nowhere in the meantime. A pervasive cultural guilt is displaced onto individuals, many of whom feel powerless in the face of large systemic problems.

What has taken the place of productive conversations about responsible management is what Marshall calls a “negotiated silence.”

The absence of meaningful debate about climate action at the United Nations is a prime example of such a silence, Marshall said. And the inability to tackle climate emissions at their source is the troubling result.

“There is nothing comparable when it comes to any other international resource issue,” Marshall said, pointing to the strict regulation of drugs as an example.

“Every stage is considered,” Marshall said, when it comes to drug control.

Fisheries management is much the same, he said.

“Just think about fisheries: you have fish harvesting controls, not fish stick consumption control,” he said.

“A negotiated silence means no one is having that conversation,” leaving a discussion about climate change to fall off the rails.

“If you get a misaligned narrative, that puts the enemy emphasis in the wrong place” he said, “it’s very difficult to detach it.”

We become locked into certain narratives, Marshall said, to the exclusion of alternatives.

Breaking the Partisan Divide

A crucial part of breaking out of failed narratives about climate change, Marshall said, is “breaking through the partisan divide.”

He said there may be ways forward that are “uncomfortable” but they deserve our consideration. This is especially so when it comes to working with people of different worldviews.

When it comes to the particular way forward, Marshall is candid about his own limits: “I don’t know if I have the right answers, but I think I’m asking the right questions.”

But one thing Marshall is fairly certain of is that we won’t make progress by having information wars with our ideological counterparts. When it comes to divided perspectives on climate change, simply presenting scientific facts won’t cut it, he said.

“When you go outside your immediate domain,” he said, “there’s a lot we can learn from other people.”

George Marshall is speaking at the University of British Columbia in Woodward IRC 5 on Wednesday, September 10, 2014 from 12:30pm to 2:00pm. A live webcast can be followed at http://sustain.ubc.ca/wired. For more information visit the Pacific Institute for Climate Solutions.

Image Credit: George Marshall at the University of Victoria. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

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