From the viewpoint of narrative policy analysis, the most obvious feature of the climate emergency is this narrative discrepancy: On one hand, all of us on this planet are in the terra incognita of the Anthropocene’s uncharted waters, and on the other hand, we know this because of those who stand on the terra firma of best-available science, technology and climate activism.
I do not mean that point to be a criticism nor do I see it as some kind of contradiction or inconsistency. In narrative policy analysis, the role of a narrative discrepancy is to point to a metanarrative (or metanarratives), that is: a wider narrative, if any, that explains holding both positions at the same time without inconsistency, contradiction or self-refutation. A readily-available metanarrative is the social psychological one about how persons experience the present. Even those feeling shipwrecked grasp at the prospect of life-saving wreckage and being tossed onshore as a castaway.
Where there is one metanarrative, there are often more, and my aim here is to illustrate four, among many, metanarratives that are more directly policy-relevant.
It should not surprise the reader that my strategy to identify these wider policy narratives is to differentiate both sides of the first-paragraph statement. On the one hand, how are we differently at sea and in uncharted waters? On the other, are there more specific shorelines than just science, technology and activism associated with those differences in unchartered waters and being at sea?
The following four metanarratives come into a view when and because we are operating more granularly in the climate emergency. New narratives emerge because at these levels the discrepancies that mislead analyses become clearer as do how to address them, particularly:
1. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as failures and their costs
2. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as having to stop this or save that
3. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as US-style emergency management
4. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically with respect to the still much-needed reduction of global GHG emissions
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1. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as failures and their costs
I recently attended a very informative conference on sea-level rise, storm surges and flooding in the greater San Francisco Bay Area, now and projected into the near decades.
Most of the day was spent on projects and interventions for climate change mitigation and adaptation about which I knew nothing, including: a Lake Mendocino water storage innovation, several dredging and sediment projects geared to beneficial uses, several wetlands restoration projects, and a great many planning and feasibility efforts funded with respect to not just sea-level rise, increased storm surges and inland flooding, but also for rising groundwater levels and changing air temperatures affecting major infrastructures differently.
In addition to these specifics, I was told:
- that Bay Area would need some 477 million cubic yards of sediment–the vast majority of which can’t be sourced locally–to restore area wetlands and mudflats;
- It would require an estimated US$110 billion dollars locally to adapt to higher sea levels by 2050, this being based on existing plans in place or used as placeholders for entities that have yet to plan; and
- To expect much more sea level rise locally because of the newly accelerated melting of the ice cap melting in Antarctica and Greenland.
Millions of cubic yards equivalent to over 420 Salesforce Tower high-rises? Some $110 billion which has no possibility whatsoever of being funded, locally let alone regionally? And those massive new requirements posed even locally by the melting ice caps? How are these unprecedented high requirements to be met?
It’s not surprising that the individual interventions presented that day and all the hard work they already required paled into insignificance against the funding and work challenges posed by the bulleted challenges.
What to do? How to respond?
II
Such massively large sums are meant to underscore the urgency of the matter, to stir us to action that matches the unparalleled magnitude of the climate emergency. Such numbers do that for some people, but others respond by becoming instead even more uncertain than they already are. Part of that increased uncertainty is translated into dread over how to proceed (as seen with respect to nuclear weapons in the Cold War), and dread can also be instrumental in generating action.
More often though, I’ve found that the increased uncertainty generated by category-five sums ends up reinforcing the focus on and approach to narratives, projects and interventions already underway. At least we know and can see hard work achieves this!
III
And in that hard work is one answer to why such large numbers, even when they measure requirements, fall short of the needed analysis.
The problem lies in the asymmetrical estimates of losses (economic, physical, lives, and more) incurred if we don’t take action now. None of these estimated losses take into account the other losses prevented by infrastructure operators and emergency managers who avoid systemwide and regional system failures from happening that would have happened had they not intervened beforehand, sometimes at the last moment.
Why are these uncalculated billions and billions of saved dollars important when it comes to responding to sea level rise, increased storm surges, more inland flooding, rising groundwater levels and other sequelae?
Because it from this pool of real-time talent and skills and practices that society will be drawing for operationally redesigning the inevitable shortfalls in new technologies, macro-plans and regulations for climate restoration and recovery.
IV
Now deepen that wider perspective. You’d think that with the catastrophic disaster scenarios the planet faces, we’d see more investigations of how large critical infrastructures actually do avoid or avert massive system failures. You’d also think that the costs to society of confronting limitless disaster scenarios is set by the dangers of ignoring disasters, like earthquakes, floods and fires, easier to identify and assess.
So what?
Appeals to processes or state conditions such as “globalization,” “financialization,” “disaster capitalism,” and the like leave us assuming these processes are in fact the peoples’ chronic crises. The latter, though, is the case only if the with-respect-to scenarios detail how these broad processes are chronic because people have failed to avert all their own dreaded events.
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2. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as having to stop this or save that
As in: Stop fossil fuels; stop cutting down trees; stop using plastics; stop defense spending; stop being imperialist; stop techno-solutionism; save biodiversity; save open spaces; save the coastlines; and in all of this never ever forget class, gender, race, inequality, identity and the rest. . .
I
An article starts with: “The climate crisis calls for a massive and rapid dismantling and retooling of our economy and society.” Yes, surely that and more; but what do we do now, right now, by way of existing options and procedures?
In the US setting, this means, among other things, decisions over activating a city or county emergency operations center and/or incident management teams at the department level to coordinate immediate response efforts. States also do the same with respect to their own EOCs, IMTs or equivalent.
This activation is done all the time, when high winds, ice storms, wildfires, heat dome effects, flooding and their combinations take down essential services, particularly backbone infrastructures of water, electricity, roads and telecoms.
II
Now the thought experiment: Activate the EOCs and IMTs, or at least the ones which know we are the climate emergency. Who then are the distressed peoples and sites? Well, that’s not something you can answer a priori or universally. It’s up to the EOCs and IMTs, who recognize the climate emergency is leaving local people hungry, making local spaces uninhabitable, taking away local employment. . .
In having to think about these things, one seemingly counter-intuitive implication becomes clearer.
Those oft-mentioned “stop-this-and-save-that” immediately hit a major obstacle. In really-existing emergency response, fossil fuel is needed to evacuate people, ship goods and services to distressed areas, keep the generators running when electricity fails, and so on. Cutting down trees, distribution of water in plastic bottles, and wide use of readily available gas-guzzling vehicles, in case it needs saying, are not uncommon.
III
Indeed and now necessarily more globally, years and years of R&D have gone into studying, prototyping and distributing more sustainable options, like eco-friendly stoves, toilet facilities, renewable-energy generators, and other alternatives.
Shouldn’t we then expect and want their increased use in immediate emergency response, especially when (not: “even if”) expediting them to the distressed sites and peoples means, e.g., using petrol to get them there? Isn’t the latter the wider narrative in which we operate in a world needing far more EOCs?
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3. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically as US-style emergency management
I
If your world is the world, you will quickly come across the literature on Shock-Responsive Social Protection that also addresses massive multiple shocks. But here you’d find almost an entirely different set of terms, namely, how social protection programs work with humanitarian response and disaster risk management for what is called here in the US emergency preparedness, immediate response and initial service restoration.
II
A social protection program might focus on how to transfer and get cash into the hands of the victims asap; the emergency management efforts we looked at worried about how ATMs and cellphone transactions would work once the infrastructures failed.
Humanitarian programs readily admit the need for international assistance; we interviewed no one in our recent research on disaster management in Oregon and Washington State who described “humanitarian aid” as a key emergency response, let alone from anywhere outside the US.
For its part, disaster risk management, while close to what we mean by emergency management in the States, might also include insurance mechanisms (e.g., assisting in paying premiums before the disaster) and contingency credit programs not just for recovery but also during immediate response
III
How does this wider perspective reframe US emergency management? One example will have to suffice.
Managed retreat is increasingly recommended as a response to rising sea levels confronting coastal communities, cities and major ports in the US (including the Bay Area mentioned in #1 above). We already have climate migrants in coastal Louisiana and like places, and the proposals are to manage this out-migration more systematically.
What’s missing, however, are assessments of the track records in the various managed retreat strategies out there already. Relocating capitols, for example, has not been without its major problems. Relocation of large numbers of people is even more notoriously difficult in humanitarian work.
What then might this mean in practice? One point of departure already suggested in thinking about managed retreat on the West Coast is captured in following:
Every time I visit South Sudan, the angels’ response to my criticisms never varies. “What would you have us do?” asked one exasperated aid worker as we sat drinking cold beers one night by the bank of the Nile. “If we leave, people will die.” He was right. A decade of government withdrawal from the provision of services, enabled by the humanitarian presence, and campaigns of government violence, partly paid for from humanitarian resources, had created a situation in which some people in the camps in Maban would probably starve if it were not for the aid agencies. The only solution the humanitarians can envision is to continue with this dystopic system.
Joshua Craze (2023). “The Angel’s Dilemma” (accessed online at https://thebaffler.com/salvos/the-angels-dilemma-craze)
Imagine, that is, not a massive withdrawal and resettlement of peoples from the West Coast (or any other major coastline for that matter), but rather masses of people who stay behind having nowhere else to go practically and who need indefinite humanitarian aid in order to survive.
Stay or not stay–either way means disaster preparedness as the wider frame of operations.
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4. How to respond better to the climate emergency when viewed asymmetrically with respect to the still much-needed reduction of global GHG emissions
I
One of the most famous typologies in organization theory in that of James D. Thompson:
The entry in Wikipedia explains the typology this way:
- Where both preferences and cause/effect relations are clear, decision making is “computational”. These decisions are often short term and information about the decision is fairly unambiguous.
- Where outcome preferences are clear, but cause/effect relations are uncertain, Thompson suggest that “judgment” takes over and you make your best educated guess. These decisions are based on prior experience and are often qualitative in nature.
- When the situation is reversed, and preferences are uncertain, then you rely on compromise between different groups. Political coalitions may be built which rely on negotiating and bargaining.
- When neither preferences nor cause/effect relations are clear, then you rely on “inspirational” leadership. This is where the charismatic leader may step in and this type of decision often takes place in times of crisis. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_D._Thompson)
I want you to keep Thompson’s typology in mind when you read the following article on the case for better emissions reductions by Dr. Hannah Ritchie in the Guardian.
It’s quoted at length, in large part because I agree with every word of it. The virtue of Thompson’s typology is that it unlocks reasons why her points need to be extended, and when doing so, the important policy and management implications that follow for the climate emergency.
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The big idea: why climate tribalism only helps the deniers
Hannah Ritchie
One of the most effective ways to be a climate sceptic is to say nothing at all. Why expend the effort slapping down climate solutions when you can rely on feuding climate activists to tear each other’s ideas apart? We tend to fight with those we are closest to. This is true of family. But it’s also true of our peers, which for me, are those obsessed with trying to fix climate change. Step into the murky waters of Twitter and you’ll often find activists spending more time going after one another than battling climate falsehoods.
These might seem like small squabbles, but they have a real impact. They slow our progress and play into the hands of the deniers, the oil companies, the anti-climate lobbyists. These groups push on while our heads are turned.
What we want to achieve is the same: to reduce carbon emissions. The problem is that we are stubborn about how we get there. We often have strong opinions about what the evils are, and how to fix them. The nuclear zealots want to go all-in on building new power stations. The renewable zealots want no nuclear at all. Some promote electric cars; their opponents want car-less roads. Vegans advocate for cutting out animal products; flexitarians feel judged when they eat their weekly roast chicken. . . .
. . .But the reality is that we can’t afford to be choosy. The answer to almost every climate dilemma is “We need both”. We need renewables and nuclear energy (even if that means just keeping our existing nuclear plants online). We need to tackle fossil fuels and our food system; fossil fuels are the biggest emitter, but emissions from food alone would take us well past a temperature rise of 1.5C and close to 2C. Not everyone can commute without a car, so we need electric vehicles and cycle-friendly cities and public transport networks. We can’t decarbonise without technological change, but we need to rethink our economic, political and social systems to make sure they flourish. . . .
So how can we make these debates work better? First, we need to become less fixated on the ideal pathway. None of us will get precisely what we want; we need to compromise and take a route that reduces emissions effectively and quickly, using a combination of solutions.
Second, we need to be more generous when dealing with our rivals. Intellectual disagreements can quickly descend into name-calling. Real conversation stops and we talk past one another instead. We become more focused on winning the argument than understanding the other side. This makes the climate solution space hostile, which is counterproductive considering we want the world’s best minds to be there.
Third, we need to be honest about what is and isn’t true about the solutions we don’t like. “EVs emit just as much CO2 as petrol cars” is simply wrong. They emit significantly less, even if they emit more than the subway or a bike (and yes, this is still true when we account for the emissions needed to produce the battery). “Nuclear energy is unsafe” is wrong – it’s thousands of times safer than the coal we’re trying to replace, and just as safe as renewables. It’s fine to advocate for your preferred solutions, but it’s not OK to lie about the alternatives to make your point. . .
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jul/16/big-oil-climate-pledges-extreme-heat-fossil-fuel
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For me, Dr. Ritchie speaks the truth; better yet, truth to power. But if you’ve kept in mind the Thompson typology, you’ll see what she’s doing a bit differently.
In Thompson terms, the article posits a low uncertainty over preferences—we do want to reduce carbon emissions—even if there are among us people more uncertain as to what best achieves our preferred outcome. Where so, the decisionmaking process is primarily a matter of judgment, and involving the drive to consensus not just among experts but also among more and more people who have come to the same judgment about the priority of reducing emissions.
Fair enough, but now return to that part of her text about “the need to compromise,” a term that for Thompson means something quite different. For him, yes of course there are occasions when negotiating and bargaining are the primary decision processes, but these are more the cases of greater uncertainty or disagreement over preferred outcomes than over the available means to achieve them. But for Dr. Ritchie the ends remain clear(er). That is also why her article reads at points almost computational in Thompson terminology: “’Nuclear energy is unsafe’ is wrong – it’s thousands of times safer than the coal we’re trying to replace, and just as safe as renewables”.
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So what? The wider policy and management challenge is now more one of documenting those really-existing cases, where computation, judgment, compromise and inspiration are achieving lower emissions.
This means that the wider policy narrative includes cases of actually-existing compromises, whose ends while not being explicitly emission reductions, nevertheless prove to have means that lead to reductions even greater than those promoted as doing so directly and explicitly. Yet have we even begun to measure that, regionally let alone globally?
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For more specifics, please see my Guide for Recasting Policy and Management in the Anthropocene accessed online at https://opendocs.ids.ac.uk/opendocs/bitstream/handle/20.500.12413/18008/IDS_Working_Paper_589_final.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y
On Shock-Responsive Social Protection, see: O’Brien, C., Scott, Z., Smith, G., Barca V., Kardan, A., Holmes, R., Watson, C. and Congrave, J. (2018), Shock-Responsive Social Protection Systems Research: Synthesis Report, Oxford Policy Management, Oxford, UK
WHEN COMPLEX IS AS SIMPLE AS IT GETS 