Climate change is personal. I have seen it first-hand. More than a decade ago I travelled up to my hometown in Northern Ontario, the land of lakes, rivers, and pine forests. It was as savage and beautiful as always. I had a small aluminum boat in tow, with a ten-horsepower outboard motor on it, and my one-man canoe on top. I drove the few miles out of town to Lake Kenogami, where I had spent idyllic summers on the lake, swimming, fishing, and wandering its miles of blue water, and exploring the river at both ends: The Blanche.

     As a boy, alone and with childhood chums, I boated along the river, especially at the west end, which was wilder: a land of beavers, muskrats, herons, and if you were lucky, a moose or a black bear on the shore. At points in the river you would have to drag your boat over the sturdy beaver dams, strong enough to hold you, your pal (if he was with you), and your boat as you pulled it over. For a boy, it was as close to heaven as you could get on this earth. When I bite the big one, this is where I want my ashes to be scattered.

     This day, I put my boat in near the bridge over Highway 11, at the two-story wooden Kenogami Hotel (renamed later in our more pretentious age, “The Kenogami Bridge Inn”), and before heading onto the lake I motored a half-mile east on that part of the Blanche. My outboard hit two rocks on route – this might otherwise mean nothing, but despite all the years that had gone by, I still knew the river and how to navigate it. It meant the river was much lower than it used to be: it least a foot lower, by my estimate.

     I returned to the lake and moved up its length, stopping by the shore of “our” bay to look at our small log cottage now apparently relegated to a sleep cabin or storage shed. Then I stopped for a while at “my” island, a small, pine and moss-covered rock island about fifty feet long, where I had camped as a boy. With the lowered water, my old landing slip was now a rocky outcrop. When young, I would stay a day or two, skinny-dipping in the cool water, and fishing for pickerel. From the island, there were no cottages and no people to see. I had enormous freedom, but there were rules: if camping overnight, we had to go in pairs, each boy with a boat in case of problems, and once a day we had to check in at home. We’d build a fire and cook the fish we caught, eating it with tea that we brewed. At night, in our tiny pup-tents, we would fall asleep to the hallucinatory calls of the loons.

     After visiting my island, I continued another mile or so, to the point were the Blanche joined the lake at its western end. But I could not find the river mouth. There was no obvious inlet for the river water flowing south and east from Sesekinika Lake. Instead, there was a reedy area, with numerous rivulets – a marshy shoreline; somewhere behind that had to be the river, assuming it still existed. I came back with my canoe the next day and still could not find a distinct inlet. I was unable to get to my beloved Blanche. (1) The reason is straightforward: changing climate had warmed the atmosphere, shortened the winter, and reduced the snow pack and the rainfall and the water level had fallen. What I had known was gone.

We all read about the fires in Canada last summer, and some of us saw it, albeit second-hand, at least in the form of an orange-brown haze over both Canadian and American cities – a haze that, where I live, in Northeastern New York, you could taste on some days. The haze made it all the way to Europe. The conflagration began in early spring, and since then there have been more than 6,500 fires. (2) As of November 9, there were still 412 fires, 119 of them out of control. (3) So far the fires have burned 18.5 million hectares (45.7 million acres). Many of the fires were large and fierce enough “to create their own weather via pyrocumulonimbus clouds, or ‘fire storm clouds,’ which can stretch 200 miles (320km) wide and carry ash and other debris upward and unleash lightning that can trigger multiple other fires that immolate more trees.” (4) This was in the vast boreal forest that makes up about a quarter of the world’s intact woodlands – the boreal forest of Canada is about the size of India.

     It is a disaster. The cause? Climate change. Forests have been weakened by the changes. Winters are shorter and not as cold. The snow-pack is not as deep and does not last as long and rainfall is less. Quite simply, the forest is entering a new age, an age of fire, because it is too dry.

     In August, I read a piece in the New York Times: it was heartfelt, a description by the writer of driving (presumably from New York, where he is a member of the Times editorial board) up though the Adirondacks, though the orange haze, past Montréal, where “the sun was reduced to a red spot,” and on to La Belle, Quebec where the author has a summer cottage. He goes on to describe the fire conditions and to lament the situation both in global terms, but also in terms of its affecting the serene beauty of the lake where he is observing and writing. (5)

     Yet, nowhere did he make a connection between his driving, for hundreds of miles, from his place of work to his cottage retreat. It – the fires, the haze, and all – appear to be just happening to the world and to him, giving him feelings like sorrow and wistfulness.

     But what about that drive? And how many times a season does he make it? How much carbon does he emit as a result?

     And what about me and my earlier trips to the hometown in Northern Ontario? Did I realize my contribution to climate change? I’d like to obfuscate and say “sort of,” but that would be a lie. I did realize. I – and we – have have been publicly aware of climate change since at least 1980. (6)  But I went anyway, just wanting to do what I wanted to do, including towing a boat behind my Jeep S.U.V. and carrying a wind-dragging canoe on top. So now: should I ever travel the five-hundred miles each way to go there again, even though I would like to? No, I think not.

Global burning is personal; yet, we continue to live as though it is not. We are observing effects and wringing our hands alright, but we continue to do whatever we do, while waiting for the technological and market fixes that will avert the disaster and avoid any personal inconvenience. But the simple truth is, even if we are marvellously ingenious, technical and market fixes will be too little, too late. These fixes will never be enough, in any case. In order to save the planet from the worst of climate change, we have to change our behaviour. We have to change how we live.

     But I see few signs that we are willing to change. Instead, I see us continuing to build gigantic McMansions, when much smaller houses would do. I see more and more huge pickups and sports utility vehicles barrelling along the road (Ford discontinued selling standard sedans and small hatchbacks in North America in 2020, in favour of trucks). (7) I see people flocking back to travel after the pandemic, flying all over the place and packing themselves onto cruise ships. (8) Consumption, from cheap fast fashion to over-priced iPhones, shows no sign of moderation.

      This summer I was alarmed to see, on numerous occasions, locked vehicles idling in the grocery store parking lot. People were going in to shop and leaving their cars running (for 15 minutes? A half-hour? An hour?) with the air-conditioner on so that the car would be cool when they came out. The hottest summer, caused by climate change, and that is the response? Unbelievable.

     We just don’t get it.

     Of course, governments and corporate rascals are backtracking, too. Oil companies like B.P. and Exxon are quietly stepping back from previously set climate goals. The U.K.’s Conservative Sunak government announced, in September, a rollback of established climate goals and actions. Incredibly, Daniel Smith, the Alberta Premier, has imposed a moratorium (!) on renewable energy projects in that dirty oil (tar sands) province. Even good old Uncle Joe Biden is persisting in developing the Willow oil-drilling project in Alaska, despite otherwise being a “green” president.

     The rascals certainly must be held accountable, but we also must be accountable to ourselves, to each other, to our children and to our grandchildren. We have to change our behaviour.

     I am someone who abhors telling others what to do and how to live, but this is an emergency: we know the drill.

     Live in smaller homes. If you have a second home, sell it or rent it to someone who needs a place to live. Get rid of the big trucks; drive a smaller, lighter, car, preferably a sedan. (9) If you need a truck or S.U.V., make it a smaller one like a Ranger or a Forester. Drive less; combine trips. Or just don’t go. Car pool to work, and work from home as much as you can. Don’t fly unless you have to. Take the train.  Don’t go on cruises; but if you absolutely must cruise, go every second year instead of yearly. Eat less meat. Reduce buying. Keep your clothes longer; repair items rather than replace wherever possible. Avoid buying and using plastic as much as you can. Substitute old lights with L.E.D bulbs. Replace an oil or gas furnace with a heat pump if you can afford it. Buy legitimate carbon offsets (research carefully). Give up NIMBY-ism and support wind and solar projects in your area. If you are in a market that permits it, purchase renewable electricity, even if it costs you more. Support your government to implement carbon pricing and taxes even when they affect you personally. The basic theme that is the foundation of all this? Individually, personally, reduce our consumption. Do what you can. If you need inspiration like I sometimes do, read Wendell Berry or Bill McKibben.

     I say all this because there is a simple reality. Yes, corporations and governments must change their ways – but they will not do so as long as demand for fossil fuel stays strong. Instead, they will merely posture, as Canada pretends, to pursue greenhouse gas reductions. (10) Put another way, countries and companies will not reduce their output of oil products until the demand diminishes. That is squarely in our hands. It is up to us.

     I know, I know, everybody hates a noodge and I understand my good readers are doing what they can. But we need to remind and refresh ourselves and each other and take action. This does create personal dilemmas; I get that. How often do I take the 800 mile round-trip to Toronto to see my grandchildren? Answer: less often. Otherwise the planet will burn up. It is that simple.

     The good news is that the list of what we can do personally is robust – it goes on and on. More good news also is that many young people are willing to make big changes like having fewer children and not owning a car to help salvage things. They are making smaller changes also, like cutting down meat and dairy, buying secondhand clothing, and riding a bike to work. (11) And some older people, even we, the high-consuming and greenhouse-gas emitting Baby Boomers, indicate that they care, at least.

     The climate situation is dire, but we must not allow ourselves to wallow in despair. There is still time. I am not without hope; nature, if not always human beings, inspires me.

Late yesterday afternoon I was standing in the middle of dirt road in front of our house (obviously the traffic is not too heavy here), gazing at the patterns of crystallizing ice in the little pond on the far side of the road, when I heard the bleating of Canada geese in the twilight sky. It took a while until I could see them, as their honking conversation grew louder and louder. When they came into sight – no kidding! I felt my heart swell and a lump in my throat at the sight of them. There were hundreds, just like the old days, in those disorganized flocks that you would see in the fall – some in masses and some in competing not-quite “V” shapes. They were yakking at each other, choosing leaders, talking it over, while practising for the big travel formations they will use to fly to the southerly states and to Mexico.

     I understand some geese no longer make the trip, as we continue to warm. But nevertheless I felt, then and there, that as long as some of these big, bleating, courageous birds are willing, then I, too, should be willing. I am obligated to do what I can do, to sacrifice a few things in gratitude for all that joy and well-being that I have been given, my whole life, ever since I wandered up the beautiful Blanche River as a boy. It is not too much to give back to our paradise. It is not too much to offer our sweet old Earth.

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     Notes

1. See my poem, On the Blanche, written in the seventies, below this blog post. 

2. Milman, Oliver, and Andrew Witherspoon. After a year of record wildfires, will Canada ever be the same again? The Guardian, November 9, 2023, https://www.theguardian.com/world/ 2023/nov/09/canada-wildfire-record-climate-crisis. 

3. CIFFC Home. Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre Inc., https://ciffc.net/. Accessed November 9, 2023.

4. Milman and Witherspoon, op. cit. 

5. Schmemann, Serge. It Is No Longer Possible to Escape What We Have Done to Ourselves. New York Times. August 23, 2023. https://www.nytimes.com/2023/08/23/opinion/ canada-wildfires-climate-change.htmlopinion/canada-wildfires-climate-change.html. 

6. The first scientific publication concerning climate change potential was in 1896. The Swedish scientist Svante Arrhenius publicized calculations showing that industrial age carbon dioxide emissions would warm the planet. By 1950, the scientific community was openly discussing the problem; even economists were aware of the issue by 1970. (See The Worldly Philosophers, by Robert Heilbroner.) By the 1980’s scientists were insisting that action had to be taken. This, of course, as we all know, was countered by a massive disinformation campaign managed by so-called “think tanks,”  funded by oil interests, such as Exxon – which in its own documents, showed it knew exactly what was happening with climate change. This was entirely successful in creating the false “controversy” we live with, and in delaying any real action for forty crucial years.

7. Even with electric vehicles and increased efficiencies, North America reduced yearly vehicle emissions by only 1.6% since 2010; had both the percentage of SUVs and trucks sold not increased, and the size and weight of these vehicles not exploded, the reduction during the period would have been over 30%. Horton, Helena. Motor emissions could have fallen by over 30% without S.U.V. trend, report says. The Guardian, November 24, 2023, https://www.the guardian.com/environment/2023/nov/24/motor-emissions-could-have-fallen-without-suv-trend- report.

8. The Oasis of the Seas uses one U.S. gallon of diesel every twelve feet; or to put it another way, the comparable Freedom of the Seas uses 28 thousand (U.S.) gallons of fuel every hour. This results in 626,640 pounds of carbon dioxide per hour. 

9. Electric vehicles are touted as the panacea; I am reserving judgement for now. They may help per-vehicle life-time emissions, but come with their own serious environmental issues, particularly the massive levels of mining for battery materials. Also, E.V.s only save emissions if the grid is green or nuclear; hardly the situation at this point. Battery recycling needs to be perfected. In any case, even the automobile companies privately admit that electric conversion of all those large trucks and S.U.V.s is unsustainable. The required battery weights are just too much and minimize potential emissions gains. But still…they can be a big step forward if the mining and electric grid problems are addressed, batteries are recycled, and there is a concerted effort to reduce the size of vehicles.

10. Naishadham, Suman, and Victor Caivano. Canada says it can fight climate change and be a major oil nation. Huge fires may force a reckoning. Los Angeles Times, November 10, 2023. https://www.latimes.com/world-nation/story/2023-11-10/canada-says-it-can-fight-climate-change-and-be-major-oil-nation-massive-fires-may-force-a-reckoning. 

11. Henley, Jon, and Michael Goodier. Young Europeans more likely to quit driving and have fewer children to save planet. The Guardian, October 25, 2023. https://www.theguardian.com/ world/2023/oct/25/young-europeans-quit-driving-fewer-children-save-planet-climate-crisis.