I’d be very interested in hearing what coping mechanisms readers have developed for dealing with “climate trauma.”
The knowledge that humanity is headed pell-mell toward self-destruction is tough to deal with. I am fortunate that I get to vent blog full time on this subject, though that doesn’t free me from the frustrations of the Cassandra syndrome. I will share one of my secrets for avoiding burnout.
Whenever I get frustrated by people refusing to see what is right before their eyes, by the success of the climate science deniers in their campaign of disinformation and delay, and by the attacks on the personal integrity of the many idealistic scientists and activists who are desperately trying to help humanities save itself from itself, from Hell and High Water — I remember one thing. The deniers and delayers sleep well at night thanks to their blinkered ideology. And I will be damned if I’ll give them yet one more advantage on top of their better funding, better messaging machine, freedom from having to present factual or consistent arguments, and credulous coverage by a status-quo media. We simply can’t afford to get burned out, since the end result would be humanity getting burned up.
Guest blogger Gillian Caldwell, the campaign director of 1sky, has done all climate science activists a favor by opening up on this painful subject to my friend Lise Van Susteren, M.D. (who previously posted “Our Moral Obligation to Act“). Caldwell’s post was originally published here.
I have spent my lifetime face to face with some of the most brutal and inhumane acts ever committed, but nothing has been as traumatizing for me as trying to get action to tackle the climate crisis.
As a long time human rights defender and prior Executive Director at WITNESS, I helped produce and direct films on rape as a weapon of war and amputations in Sierra Leone’s recent bloody conflict, I conducted an undercover investigation into the Russian mafia’s involvement in trafficking women for forced prostitution, I investigated hit squads in apartheid South Africa, and I spent countless hours in editing rooms watching first hand images of death, destruction, and devastation.
But spending my days and nights trying to get our country to tackle global warming is more emotionally demanding than any job I have ever done.
When I was at WITNESS, people used to say “The work you do must be so difficult. How do you manage?” to which I would respond “Well, I can see the results. And it’s not as bad as environmental work would be!” What I meant when I said that five years ago is that I felt overwhelmed by our inexorable march to “pave it all” — parking lot by parking lot, McDonald’s by Wal-Mart.
But seeing former Vice President Al Gore give his now famous slide show at the TED conference in 2006 convinced me that nothing mattered more than tackling global warming, and that climate change had massive humanitarian and human rights consequences. There was no looking back, so in mid-2007 I leapt, knowing that I was headed straight towards my deepest fears and concerns.
As I started to immerse myself in the science and early impacts of global warming, I became increasingly distraught. But I soldiered on, hoping against hope that I would be so busy in an ambitious new start up campaign at 1Sky, and so relieved to be trying to do something about it, that I would not be overwhelmed with existential angst and despair. Looking back on the last year and a half since I started as 1Sky’s Campaign Director in the Fall of 2007, my wish has generally come true. But since President Obama’s inauguration and the 2009 clock started ticking on the countdown to Copenhagen, I feel myself slipping. And I know I am not alone.
So when Dr. Lise Van Susteren, a psychiatrist and co-convenor of last month’s conference at the National Wildlife Federation on the Psychological Aspects of Climate Change asked me to videotape an interview (part 1 | part 2) with her that would be played before the heads of the American Psychiatric Association and the Centers for Disease Control, I agreed. And in spite of the fact that I found myself weeping at several points during the conversation and know it never bodes well for a woman in leadership, I let her play it during the plenary session in conference.
I did that because I believe that I and many other people around the world are suffering from “Climate Trauma.” It’s my own term. I am not a mental health professional, but I can identify plain as day the symptoms I recognize in myself and in my colleagues traumatized by our work to tackle climate change. And these symptoms are of course different from, but related to, the much deeper trauma of those who are already being directly impacted by climate change, whether through dislocation, drought, or the death of a loved one:
1. Anxiety and Stress. We know we are facing a looming catastrophe of unparalled proportions — a truly existential crisis in that scientists predict that if we do not take dramatic action now, human beings will not be able to continue living on Earth as we have come to know it. This is not the place to detail the reasons or predicted impacts of climate change, but it is to say that a central motivation in pushing for climate and energy policy is our knowledge of that existential threat. And there has never been more urgency or intensity to our wish and our call, with the looming international negotiations in Copenhagen in December 2009 and the critical need to have demonstrated US leadership before we get there. We in the US are literally dizzy with work, given the pace of the congressional calendar, regulatory action, and the Administration more broadly. Many of us are insomniacs and obsessive workaholics.
2. Fear and Hopelessness: We know we must be bold and visionary and imaginative and hopeful about all of the potential of a 21st century green economy built on wind, solar and geothermal. All the polls and marketing specialists tell us that people will tune us out if we shriek about the fact that the sky is falling and that people want to hear about solutions. We do see a path forward — a way out of this mess we got ourselves into. But in our heart of hearts ,we are fearful that the powers that be in industrial America, the votes in Congress, and the ignorance or economic plight of voters all around us, will stand in our way and we may get nothing at all, or too little to late. Will we add up? We think about our children and their future, and we weep. We tear ourselves away from them for yet another day, another night, trying to preserve something left for them to live in. Even the children are traumatized: look at what 10 year old Nikos Spiridakis produced as a wake up call or what this young girl in Michigan says when her aunt asks her what global warming is.
3. A Parallel Universe: We often feel like we are living in a parallel universe. Don’t people see that we are headed straight off a cliff? How could they possibly continue to argue that there is legitimate dispute about whether or not the planet is warming? How could the ones who know that it is warming leave all their incandescent bulbs on? Leave their SUV idling? Blast the heat and open the windows? Toss their water bottle in the trash? And sit out this fight of a lifetime, this fight for our lives? We are obsessed and alone and sometimes we or our loved ones literally have to ban the topic from conversation rather than repeat ourselves again. And again. And again.
4. Depression, Irritability and Anger: Flip sides of the same coin, we find ourselves alternately depressed, irritable, or angry. Who wouldn’t under the circumstances? But these symptoms only get in our way, and diminish our power to be the leaders we must be to confront the greatest challenge of our generation, and perhaps of all time in life on this precious planet we call home. We need each other — our colleagues, our teams and the people who love us — to keep on keeping on.
When Dr. Spencer Eth, a respected forensic psychiatrist, saw the interview I did with Dr. Van Susteren at the conference, he wrote a short article on “Climate Warriors and Emotional Burnout.” He wrote:
The mission of a ‘climate warrior’ is demanding and may become self-sacrificing. The activist must articulate terrible truths about the coming ecological catastrophes. Indeed, future scenarios may approximate what psychiatrist Robert Lifton described as a death imprint - the indelible images of the grotesque that the person cannot assimilate.
Dr. Van Susteren followed up with some advice on how to sustain ourselves.
And so, we find ourselves “surfing the apocalypse,” as my friend Gary Cohen from Health Care Without Harm would say. We know that this crisis is an opportunity to reinvent the way we are living our lives, and to steer this troubled ship called Earth towards safer harbor. In our despair, we must surface all our passion and commitment and power to ensure that we come together as an unstoppable force for change, turning the tide back in the right direction, and lifting all boats.
This piece originally appeared in Climate progress.
Photo credit: flickr/Migraine Chick, Creative Commons License.
Gillian's article was earlier posted at The Huffington Post. This is my "coping mechanism", Joe. "Even as "to burn-out while following a path of truth and a moral responsibility" has a "western bias". In some other "secondary" cultures in this civilization, this actually has a liberating influence. This can make a huge difference.
"Gillian, Most people give in when they are oh-so close to the finishing line. A good way to refresh and recharge yourself is to celebrate every important milestones. We need to develop rituals and folklore to sustain our energies. Lots of primitive societies did this by elevating natural forces to the status of gods. So you have a God of wind, sun, seas, earth, all the planets and round about everything.
We may believe differently about what's been causing climate change, but our habits are still glued to a "flat earth" climate change deniers. This is causing a tension that's taking a toll on many of us. That way, paradoxically, deniers may be better off, b'coz they don't suffer this tension.
The best way forward for us is to understand that victory is in sight and go for the kill. Once we are cross the tipping point where the supporting structures and systems are in our favour and easier on us, climate change mitigation will seem more easier on the gut for everyone. It's the deniers who will be losing sleep - ostracised or incarcerated.
The world needs you more than ever. We are with you."
I also engaged in an exchange with a climate change denier at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gillian-caldwell/coming-out-of-the-closet_b_195770.html.
BIBLICAL METAPHOR ALERT. I imagine we're Noahs. Let's keep building that ark. Bless you whose heart is too big to not care about those who deny.
A bloggy friend of mine wrote a post a while back about something she called "post-cultural depression," that sounds a lot like Climate Trauma. And the preferred option for dealing with it, so far as I can see, is to make yourself stop caring, so I think anyone who keeps caring and tries to deal with their reactions to it instead deserves kudos. (her post is at http://cribchronicles.com/2009/03/15/dont-think-you-knew-you-were-in-this-song/)
because my job is not specifically climate related, only environmental, and because I'm a single mom and can't just absolve myself from parenting duties etc., I get a lot of breaks built in already and wish I could do more. I can atest to the idea that taking breaks from climate is effective, but really I think what that tells us is that this work needs to be shared. It shouldn't all be left on the shoulders of a handful of people.
Thank you Joe for re-posting my blog and all of you for your comments. I have read a few denier posts and of course it's disturbing to be ridiculed and decried as narcisstic, but I am heartened to be hearing from so many people who have reached out to say my words resonated and strengthened their resolve to do this work. That was my hope.
hmmm, great post