Voices

The science is solid, the risk is real. And so we marched.

Maybe — if enough of us march, and plan, and make smart choices — we’ll have a chance at beating this thing

BRATTLEBORO — I'm not a frequent social activist. I haven't been to a major rally since my college days, but when my teenage daughter gets excited about something I care about, I'm all in!

And Michaela was getting excited by the social media buzz about the People's Climate March, so with some last-minute scrambling, I headed down to New York City with family and friends to the big march.

By the time we succumbed to the FOMO (fear of missing out) and started making plans, the buses from our region were sold out, so we drove from Brattleboro to Manhattan.

Driving to a climate march? At least we had a full car (five people) getting 40 miles per gallon, so our 200-passenger-miles-per-gallon wasn't that much worse than a full coach bus, at about 275 passenger-mpg.

* * *

As we were getting ready, I kept thinking about how absurd it is that we even have to demonstrate like this. The science is solid. The risk is real, even if predictions can never be 100 percent.

So why does anyone still need convincing?

But then I remember this all-too-convincing analysis from journalist Ezra Klein:

“If you were going to weaponize an issue to take advantage of the weak points in the American political system - to highlight all the blind spots, dysfunctions, and irrationalities - you would create climate change,” Klein wrote this past June on his website Vox. “And then you would stand back and watch the world burn.”

Klein points out that those who are likely to be worst hit by climate change have the least opportunity to prevent it and that we, as a society, are notoriously bad at sacrificing now for benefits far off in the future.

So we have to march.

Maybe - if enough of us march, and plan, and make smart choices - we'll have a chance at beating this thing.

* * *

The sheer number of organizations that came together at this event is astonishing. They are a physical manifestation of the unorganized movement that Paul Hawken chronicles in his book Blessed Unrest.

On the ground, this diversity was both enlivening and challenging.

Some of the corporate green-building types I was walking with were not so happy about the strident anti-capitalist chants coming from a group just behind us. And vegan activists were out in force, shaming beef-eaters with specs on how much methane comes from cows. (“Do You Have a Steak In It?”)

Also impressive was the age range of the marchers. In our little carload we spanned six decades, and that was not unusual among the marchers.

* * *

Before we even got to the starting line, part of our contingent was getting worried about catching their bus back home at 5 p.m. We joined the cheaters who were ducking out onto the sidewalks to leapfrog ahead, and we got to see some other platoons.

Thanks to groups with great props like Bread and Puppet and a bunch of swordfish on bicycles, parts of the march felt more like a parade.

The cultural cacophony got loudest when we entered Times Square, where our tapestry of color and sound - and message of restraint - clashed with the high-tech orgy of consumerism.

We were just approaching Times Square, heading toward the much-anticipated block party on 11th Avenue, when the organizers sent a text acknowledging how overwhelmed they were.

“The march is so big that we're asking people to disperse just before they reach 11th Ave. and 42nd St.,” they wrote.

It had already been a long day for us, so we ducked into the subway, returned to our car, and had a smooth ride back home.

* * *

The march was a great adventure - and it provided some shifts in perspective.

Prior to marching, I was always looking for solutions and doing what I can, but under a cloud of doubt - that it's too late, and whatever we do will be too little.

But participating in the March did raise my optimism a bit (or at least reduced my pessimism). It left me feeling that we can and should still all be working towards carbon-reduction solutions, as opposed to the adaptation plans that everyone seems to be focusing on lately.

Lots of studies over the past decade have pointed to buildings as the sector in our economy with the most cost-effective carbon-reduction opportunities, so that's already been a big focus at BuildingGreen, the publishing company where I work, which brings news and information about sustainable design and construction. Because many of these opportunities actually save money from day one, they are palatable even in circles that are ordinarily allergic to the idea of climate change.

After serving and appealing to a deep green audience for over two decades, at BuildingGreen we're now actively working on how to present and package the solutions we talk about in ways that will appeal to those who don't identify as environmentalists. For me, the People's Climate March reinforced my belief in that direction.

But getting attention on these opportunities at a scale big enough to really matter is still a challenge, and that's where national and international policy comes in. If there is any way we can cut through the political gridlock and enact a carbon tax (revenue-neutral, of course, so it doesn't mean any net increase in overall taxes), that might be enough to tip the scales.

And as for my daughter, whose interest had compelled me to witness this march in person, she writes: “It made me understand not only the value of peaceful demonstrations, but also the necessity for change.” She says it gave her “a lot of hope for positive change in the future.”

I just hope it's a sign that the winds are changing.

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