Caution: it’s raining and I haven’t been out of the house all day, so this is a bit of a long ranty post that’s been rattling round my head for some time. I also have a feeling I’m going to regret this…
There was a time, back in January, when I started to wonder just what I was doing bothering with initiatives like 1010. Copenhagen had collapsed into acrimony, and it seemed that we weren’t even going to get a bad deal, let alone one that was going to save the planet from a 2°C rise in temperature. We’d been told in the run up that this was it, our last chance to save the planet but when the politicians duly didn’t save it, the response from everyone seemed to be one giant shrug. Where were the demonstrations on the streets, the rising sense of panic, the mass buying of sandbags against the coming floods, the stockpiling of bottled water? We were all too busy worrying about the big freeze and stockpiling salt instead.
So I began to reappraise. I wasn’t, personally, going to save the planet, even if I just lay down in a darkened room to die, breathing as shallowly as possible. The politicians weren’t going to save the planet – in fact, Copenhagen had shown that, with unusual honesty, they weren’t even going to pretend to save the planet. There was one tactic left: denial. After all, we were going through the coldest winter since the history of time, probably. And suddenly the news was full of dodgy climate scientists and dodgy climate dossiers. Maybe I had been brainwashed by reading the Guardian and listening to those damn green-pinkos (beigeos?) on the BBC. Assuming that they were both part of some vast conspiracy to make everyone give up driving and take up yoghurt whittling (and you know that makes sense), on what other evidence was I, personally, basing my belief in the need to cut CO2 emissions?
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