Thoughts on well-being, sustainability and those things that constitute a good life beyond consumption.
Showing posts with label climate change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climate change. Show all posts

Monday, February 8, 2021

Jeeps, Springsteen and Climate Change - Unity or Erasure?

Throughout the day, I have seen a number of high school friends and relatives post on social media about the Jeep/Springsteen commercial that aired during the Superbowl. There has been some interesting analysis about the effectiveness of the ad (or lack thereof) and some surprise that Bruce – in his old age – is selling out to commercialism [see for example, references 1, 2]. But the comments from many of my Facebook connections express frustration over the omission of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan from the map that was shown in the ad. 


This is not the first time that the UP has been left off maps. Or drawn as a part of Wisconsin. Or Canada. Of particular note, the ad was the product of a Michigan agency, from under the bridge of course, but still [3]. 

I get it. To have your home place omitted, casually erased, stings. (In my opinion, the UP is such a wonderful place that I am happy to have fewer people know of its existence!)

This most recent omission reminded me of a U.N. climate conference (COP) several years ago. There was a large globe hanging in the venue that could be used to show impacts of climate change and to let attendees know that we are all in this mess together. Unity, just like the Jeep commercial. 

The problem was that this globe did not include many key island nations, all of which had delegates at the COP. To make matters worse, these small island nations are among the most vulnerable places in the world due to sea level rise and the increasing power of cyclones. Their homeland is being erased – not only on that global depiction – but literally by rising waters and storm surge.

During this pandemic, I haven't been able to travel to the U.P., the place I still call home, even though I moved away a long time ago. I miss it. But I can’t imagine what it is like to be facing the physical loss of the place you call home, that you pledge your national allegiance to, where your ancestors are buried, that your livelihood depends on, where your culture and personal narrative are rooted. Someday, hopefully in the not too distant future, I will be able to travel again and visit home and friends and relatives. Climate refugees, however, will never be able to go back.

Climate change is one of the many topics that divides us in this nation. Despite reams of scientific evidence, this global problem has become hyper-politicized. Perhaps it might be useful for us all to take a map and cut out the place we call home, the landscape that matters most to us. And then remember, that this very erasure of place is actually happening to people who live on islands, on coastlines, in the Arctic, and in areas that have undergone severe desertification and can no longer support life.

 

1. Healey, Tim. Jeep's Super Bowl Ad Won't Unite Us (2/8/21)

 https://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2021/02/opinion-jeeps-super-bowl-ad-wont-unite-us/

 

2. Richards, Chris. If Bruce Springsteen's Jeep commercial doesn't bum you out, congrats on the purchase of your new Jeep. (2/8/21) https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/music/springsteen-sells-out-jeep-ad-superbowl/2021/02/07/b9bd1fa0-6986-11eb-9ead-673168d5b874_story.html

 3. LaCombe, Andrew. Super Bowl commercial leaves Upper Peninsula off map. https://www.uppermichiganssource.com/2021/02/08/super-bowl-commercial-leaves-upper-peninsula-off-map/?

 

Monday, March 30, 2020

What is normalcy these days?

Was that a chewink! that I just heard? That zree sound, although not quite right, had to have been the first-of-year towhee to arrive on our property in 2020. This Eastern Towhee or Pipilo erythrophthalmus (what a name) wasn’t getting his "drink-your-tea" song quite right but given that he had probably flown quite some distance overnight, I cut him a little slack. Plus, I am very happy to have him back for the spring and summer, even if he seems to have arrived a week or two early.

Eastern Towhee (photo by Dave Husic)
There is very little routine in our schedules these days in this new era of COVID-19. Our lives have become filled with uncertainty, fear, and perhaps, for many, even dread. The only certain thing is that we are all experiencing too much screen time. The Husic household is doing online teaching (or learning), too many Zoom meetings, and grading student work sent in digital formats. It has become challenging to separate work from personal time when you are home, 24-7. However, because, like so many others, I am now obligated to from home, I have the luxury to sneak out for a walk or to do a bit of birding during the day. It was during my morning walk today that I heard my feathered friend’s invitation to tea.

Is it “shelter in place” or “take refuge”? The latter sounds slightly more soothing. I am very fortunate to live on some acreage where I can sneak out the backdoor and still easily practice my isolation/social distancing/physical separation from other Homo sapiens, while enjoying the local biodiversity. Since we head into April this week, the species of plants and birds that will greet me each day will steadily increase. I have already welcomed the Spring Peepers, Wood Frogs, and American Woodcocks, along with daffodil, crocus, hellebore, hyacinth, coltsfoot, winter aconite and Magnolia stellate (star magnolia) blooms. I know, I should be more consistent with my Latin name usage. Perhaps this is something to work on if we are sheltering for a very long time.

Over the past several weeks, I have developed the bad habit of checking the dashboard set up by John Hopkins University a few times each day. We are closing in on three-quarters of a million “official” cases of coronavirus globally, but we all know that is a gross underestimate of the real tally. Odd that as a scientist, I am fascinated by numbers and graphs, but have long struggled with binomial nomenclature.

This semester, I am teaching an environmental health course which is an interesting way to apply my environmental and biomedical training and experience. Back in January – week #2 of the course to be exact – the students and I started tracking the coronavirus outbreak in China. Nothing like a real-time case study to raise all sorts of interesting questions from students about the growing zoonotic threats from human-wildlife contact, habitat disruption, and the illegal wildlife trade. With all the sophisticated data tracking that is available, it was also a good way to teach 21st century epidemiology (compared to the dreaded textbook chapter) and it certainly is an update from the early mapping that John Snow did during the 1854 cholera outbreak in Soho, London. Apple watches, Fitbits, and smart thermometers record body temperature (including fevers), resting-heart-rate and sleep-duration data, and we can track movement of people via cell phone signals. But I digress.

Perhaps we were a little too close to the information; as a class, we quickly predicted that a) this was going to impact us (as in in the U.S.) and b) that as a country, we were not doing the necessary preparations or precautions. In other words, we were going to be statistics in that case study. I wonder how many of our public health and nursing students are now rethinking their career choices as they realize that the textbook content can be not only relevant, but *real*.

~~~

Set up a routine. Try to find some semblance of normalcy in your days. Such is the advice that is being shared. Getting outdoors provides some exercise and fresh air, a reprieve from the screens, and gets me out of my sweatpants. It is also important for my mental health. Daily, I can see things getting greener – those unique hues of spring green, prettier than any in a Crayola box. Bulbs and some trees are already coming into bloom and migratory birds are starting to return. We have already had early visitors: a Tree Swallow, House Wren and, today, the Towhee.

While these things do provide some escape from the case fatality rates and depressing media feeds, they are far from normal. Anyone from eastern Pennsylvania knows that we had an unusually mild winter and that the months of February and March were much warmer than normal.

According to NOAA Global Climate Report for February 2020:
Averaged as a whole, February 2020 was near-record warm with a global land and ocean surface temperature departure from average of 1.17°C (2.11°F) above the 20th century average. Only February 2016 was warmer. This month marked the 44th consecutive February and the 422nd consecutive month with temperatures, at least nominally, above the 21th century average. The 10 warmest Februarys have occurred since 1998. The February 2020 temperature departure from average was also the third highest monthly temperature departure from average for any month in the 1,682-month record. Only March 2016 (+1.31°C / +2.36°F) and February 2016 (+1.26°C / +2.27°F) had a higher temperature departure.

This follows a similar situation from January:
The global land and ocean surface temperature for January 2020 was the highest in the 141-year record, with a temperature departure from average of 1.14°C (2.05°F) above the 20th century average. This value was only 0.02°C (0.04°F) higher than the now second highest January temperature departure from average set in 2016. The four warmest Januaries on record have occurred since 2016...

And from 2019:
The year 2019 was the second warmest year in the 140-year record, with a global land and ocean surface temperature departure from average of +0.95°C (+1.71°F). This value is only 0.04°C (0.07°F) less than the record high value of +0.99°C (+1.78°F) set in 2016 and 0.02°C (0.04°F) higher than the now third highest value set in 2015 (+0.93°C / +1.67°F).
I know that this sounds really technical. Remember, this scientist likes numbers and graphs. I also pay attention to phenology – the timing of seasonal events such as bloom times and first dates of arrival of migrating birds in spring. The impact of this year’s mild winter in the east was obvious when I started hearing about reports of cherry blossoms opening at the end of February. According to the National Park Service, the full (peak) bloom was in mid-March, thirteen days ahead of 2019. Historically, the National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, DC had been taking place during the first two weeks in April. [1]

In general, people appreciate an early spring. Why else would so many people tune in to see what Punxsutawney Phil predicts on February 2nd? This year, we hope that the warming weather will slow the nasty virus that is controlling our lives right now. But the early signs of spring that I watch year after year are unsettling to me. The early arrivals and bloom times are not normal.

Years ago, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change said in their 2007 Nobel Prize winning work the 4th Assessment Report:
Phenology …. is perhaps the simplest process in which to track changes in the ecology of species in response to climate change.
This year, 2020, will go down in history as the year after which nothing was the same. The pandemic we are all watching in horror is only one part of the global change in our future.




1. Chung U, Mack L, Yun JI, Kim S-H (2011) Predicting the Timing of Cherry Blossoms in Washington, DC and Mid-Atlantic States in Response to Climate Change. PLoS ONE 6(11): e27439. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0027439; available here

Monday, May 25, 2015

The Memorial Day Message That is Missing

This weekend, social media is filled with messages asking us to remember the Americans who have died defending our country and our freedom. Memorial Day, first established in 1866 to honor Union soldiers of the Civil War, is now a day set aside to remember all of the American soldiers who have died in war in the subsequent 15 decades - about 1.2 million in all. This number, while representing a tremendous loss, pales in comparison to the number of war-related deaths globally for the same time period. Estimates run from 60 to 85 million for the number of lives lost during World War II alone. 

Coincidentally, this past week, I finally had the chance to watch the movie The Imitation Game and finished reading Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain. The film portrays a number of issues, but one in particular still troubles me. [Spoiler alert:] After the German Enigma code was decrypted, the British made "strategic" life and death decisions about their own troops in order to avoid tipping off the Germans that their code had been cracked. In this way, the British could continue gathering key intelligence. While this intelligence is credited with shortening World War II by as much as two years, I find it difficult to understand how those in charge would intentionally ignore information that could have saved the lives of many of their own troops.

Fountain's book is also about war - the one in Iraq, post 9/11. Without going into the details of the plot, the story vividly portrays the sharply divergent worlds of those who glorify war and those who are actually sent into combat. A particularly poignant passage comes when Billy Lynn's sister is trying to convince him not to return to Iraq after completing a somewhat farcical nationwide tour that both celebrated and exploited the heroes of his squad. She gives a long list of leaders and pundits who were promoting the war (including the President and Vice-president) and noted that all of them had somehow managed to avoid serving in Vietnam.

Admittedly, I am a pacifist and don't understand the reasons for our involvement in most conflicts since World War II. But this Memorial Day weekend, I wonder why instead of just remembering those lost in war, that we don't also start finding ways to avoid further deadly conflict in the future.

In his book Tropic of Chaos: Climate Change and the New Geography of Violence, author Christian Parenti refers to the "catastrophic convergence" of poverty, violence, and climate change. The Center for Naval Analyses (CNA) completed a study in 2007 on climate change and national security, and a year ago this month, the CNA published a follow-up report entitled National Security and the Accelerating Risks of Climate Change. The Pentagon and State Department have also published detailed strategic reports regarding the impact of climate change on national security. Headlines from the past year include "Climate change threatens national security, Pentagon says", "Climate Change Deemed Growing Security Threat by Military Researchers", and "Obama: Climate Change a Growing National Security Threat" (a claim that the President reiterated this past week). After Obama's comments in February this year, The New Republic followed with a piece entitled "Obama is Right: Climate Change Kills More People than Terrorism." In this, Rebecca Leber makes a case that around 5 million died due to climate-related factors or carbon pollution in 2010 and that this number will increase to close to 6 million by 2030. But I suppose this is irrelevant to military strategists since reports about war casualty numbers don't include the loss of life due to things like environmental pollution or natural disasters like hurricanes, tornadoes, or other types of extreme storms.

The significance seems clear to me, however, when we overlay the impacts of climate change on top of a widening gap between the have's and have-not's, especially with respect to food and water security, and consider the disparate impacts of climate change on certain regions of the world that have a long history of conflict. To decode: we are looking at a rapidly growing risk for more global conflict. Ironically, the U.S. military is a huge consumer of fossil fuels - one of the major sources of greenhouse gases that are destabilizing the climate. And following up on a 2001 report on Naval Operations in an Ice-Free Arctic, the military is preparing for a joint training exercise (the "Northern Edge 2015") in June of this year in the Gulf of Alaska. Why do I get the sense that our national leadership, like the British in WWII, is choosing to deliberately disregard certain critical intelligence, risking some lives, in order to "succeed" in some larger goal?

During a commencement address at Rutgers University last weekend, Bill Nye said that the "oncoming trouble" of climate change will affect the graduates in "the same way the Second World War consumed people of [his] parent's generation." As we await the release of the Pope's Encyclical on climate change, Cardinal Peter Turkson recently spoke at an international conference on climate change hosted at the Vatican, calling on the wealthiest countries who have long benefited from fossil fuels, to be the ones to find solutions to deal with climate change:
[Wealthy nations] are obliged both to reduce their own carbon emissions and to help protect poorer countries from the disasters caused or exacerbated by the excesses of industrialization. Cardinal Peter Turkson
Last week, I was left troubled by both a movie and book about war. I remain disillusioned by war in general. Perhaps if the U.S. started exerting leadership in addressing climate change, and thus, working to lessen the chances for additional future conflict in the world, I would feel better listening to the all the messages - especially from politicians - honoring the dead over this holiday weekend.

Monday, March 3, 2014

What Fires Should Educators Light?


Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.

William Butler Yeats

Good educators really “get” the first half of this quote from Yeats.  Rote memorization of facts does little to inspire students.  We doubt that it does much for learning either, preferring to focus instead on developing critical thinking skills and tools for life-long independent learning.  But while few would question the value of a focus on critical thinking, we do debate our role as educators in lighting fires. 

Throughout my teaching career, I have been a proponent of providing opportunities for students to engage in undergraduate research – intense experiences in which students are co-creators of knowledge, rather than simply vessels to be filled with facts and ideas that others have already published.  It was the transformative opportunity of doing independent research that lit my own fire as a first-generation student, so much so that I went on to graduate school to pursue a research-focused career.

As both an undergraduate and graduate student in science, I was trained to believe that the process of doing science is an objective one.  But this never totally made sense to me.  Science performed in a vacuum does little other than to satisfy one’s curiosity about the world around us or about the secrets of life at the molecular level.  What makes science so exciting and so important is that it provides us with the ability to solve complex problems or to create technology which can be used to improve the quality of life.  However, as we learn those secrets of nature and transform them into tools to manipulate elements of our natural world, including humans, we are faced with tremendous ethical dilemmas and a realization that the information we learn can be exploited and used in ways never intended.  Knowledge comes with power, something that is rarely objective.

So as educators of science, do we stick to the facts and theories and “the” scientific method (as if it is a single linear process)?  Do we continue to perpetuate the myth that science is not subjective at times or could never be used for questionable purposes?  I think not.  It is important to teach about the social context of science and to critically evaluate the outcomes of scientific research.  Would this crush an aspiring young scientist?  I certainly hope not.

My personal career path in science and education has certainly not been a linear one.  I was fortunate to have one of those early research experiences – working on a project that had an environmental chemistry focus.  I had, after all, grown up during the first environmental movement of the 1970s and was clearly influenced by it and by the wilderness-like settings I lived in. I then went on to graduate school in plant at a time when genetic engineering of plants was a new field.  Because I understand the science behind the technology, and probably also because I know personally some of the individuals who created the first genetically modified plants, I tend to have more positive views about GMOs than many of my friends, despite my ongoing love for wild places. 

Graduate school was followed by a stint in cancer research when HIV/AIDs first emerged as a new disease within the gay community.  How can you stay objective when you attend a conference in San Francisco and walk to the venue through crowds of terrified men – many the same age that I was – facing an early death and begging you for information on what advances in science will help them?

To this day, I show my students the film “And the Band Played On” so that they might know the early and ugly history of this disease – the science, the cultural context, the politics, the religious fanaticism, and the fear.  This fear was not only experienced by those dying of HIV infection, but also by the public who was afraid they might catch this dreadful disease for which there is still no cure over three decades later.  I share my stories of those days in San Francisco – both the horrors I witnessed and the egos of scientists who cared more about their future fame than the lives of so many.  I find that I can’t simply stick to the facts about the biochemistry of this disease.

As fate would have it, I eventually returned to my environmental roots and now work in the areas of ecological restoration (which involves value judgments about what to “restore to”) and climate change.  Today, it is the scientists who are fearful – this time not about a disease, but about the fate of the planet.  They find themselves caught up in a bizarre social frenzy which is fraught with controversy, public distrust, media manipulation, and politics.  Top climate scientists are the ones facing the threats of death – simply because of their area of research.  There are many who aim to silence the voices of researchers like Michael Mann and James Hansen, attempts that go way beyond those who tried to silence and discredit Rachel Carson as a “hysterical female” who set aside her science and, in a “tragic turn” in career began to write fables that encouraged “some of the most destructive strains within environmentalism: alarmism, technophobia, failure to consider the costs and benefits of alternatives, and the discounting of human well-being around the world.”[1]

Science textbooks don’t tell stories about the character assassinations and death threats.  And nowhere in my science training was I told that these sorts of things might happen, perhaps because it didn’t happen in the past.  But today, be it climate change, evolution, nutrition, or genetic engineering, science has been flung into the throes of political battlegrounds.  Should I ignore this in my teaching?

At a time when society is faced with tremendous challenges of poverty and growing inequality, global environmental problems, food security, new and emerging diseases, scarcity of resources, and conflict, more than ever we need not only science and technology, but also innovative thinkers, advocates and activists.  We need educated people who aren’t content with simply finding a job, but are still idealistic enough to want to change the world for the better.  In other words, we need higher education to lead the charge in lighting fires, to be inspiring the next generation of problem solvers who will work at the front lines of these grand challenges of the 21st century.

So is this happening?  Today, there is pervasive criticism of higher education on many fronts ranging from tax payers to the White House.  Administrators don’t want to rock the boat, or more precisely, are begging faculty not to rock the boat.  They implore us to be more balanced in what we teach or in who we invite as speakers to campus – so as not to offend or discourage potential donors or prospective students.  Public institutions fall into line of submission for fear of losing state and federal funding.  The modus operandi is to keep the faculty busy learning new technology which supposedly will enhance learning or filling out assessment reports to appease Washington, so they say.  But perhaps it is really just to keep faculty busy so that we don’t have time to incite a movement or write a provocative op-ed.  We wouldn’t want to tarnish the image of the institution. 

What happened to the times when college campuses were at the forefront of calling for social change – be it during the civil rights movement, the environmental movement, or calling for divestment during the times of apartheid?  I applaud the handful of students who are now calling for divestment of another sort – aimed at shifting investment funds from fossil fuel-related corporations and calling attention to global climate change.  And kudos to the almost 400 students who were arrested in Washington, D.C. this past weekend.  They, along with busloads of others were protesting the Keystone XL pipeline project. 

A few years ago, during the fall of the Occupy Movement, I participated in a march in Washington about the same pipeline project.  When I came back to campus and told students in my Introduction to Environmental Science course about the experience, it was obvious that they were a) shocked that I would do something like this (it isn’t what scientists do), and b) fearful that it was my expectation of them to do sometime similar (it wasn’t).  But, we talked about their obvious aversion to political activism.  Some noted that such activity would be a black mark on their record, thus hurting their chances for securing a job in the future.  Most didn’t have a clue as to what the Keystone Pipeline XL project was.  My bad.  I hadn’t yet gotten to the chapters on energy or climate change.  But surely they must have seen something via social media from 350.org or other organizations?  Nope, they had no idea who Bill McKibben is.  I witnessed, with some sadness, the same reaction and lack of awareness of current events from students in my first year seminar which had the title of The Future of Nature and Humans: 21st Century Environmentalism.  My fault I guess.  I hadn’t yet added those details into their pails. 

Since that incident, I have been thinking a lot about these messy issues.  My work with the United Nations on climate change has taught me that while science might get countries to the negotiations table, policy and multilateral agreements will ultimately be battles about economics, cultural differences, national priorities, and politics.  Nothing about the process is objective or logical.  But the process is filled with passionate people who care about the future of the planet, or at least their countries, and about protecting their people and national interests.  In too many of my students, I see apathy, disconnect with current events, and a lack of awareness of historical context.

Over the past few years, we have brought some fascinating speakers to campus.  Some were involved in the civil rights movement (Jesse Jackson and John Lewis).  Winona LaDuke talked about environmental and cultural sustainability initiatives on reservations.  Students wanted to know how she dealt with the label of “activist’.  Her response:  “I don’t consider myself an activist, just a responsible citizen.”  Perfect.  Ph.D. biologist and author Sandra Steingraber spoke of the need for a liberal arts education to understand issues like natural gas extraction (fracking), to be able to formulate educated positions about whether it is a good idea or not.  Yes, she is an activist, but that wasn’t her message on our campus.  Each of these speakers illustrated to students what it means to be engaged in a cause, to care about something. 

What has been the response?  Students texted during the talks, and administrators ask us to be more balanced in our choice of speakers (reportedly because some donors and board members were upset).  Aren’t issues like inequality, the impact of the forces of capitalism, the consequences of past and present exploitations, social and environmental justice, clean energy (or energy independence), and climate change the very ones that we should be lighting fires over?  If not us in higher education, then who?  Many colleges and universities have somewhere in their mission statement a line about preparing students for “service for the common good.”  If we aren’t tackling the big questions of our time, what “common good” are we working towards?  And who decides?  These aren’t questions that are objective, or ones that any science I know can answer.

Recently, I was reading a blog post that pointed out that more than twenty years ago the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS 1990) concluded that scientific goals to solve society’s problems are fostered by a greater emphasis on liberal education.[2]  In other words, it is the liberal education of students that will help move science out of the laboratory and into practice for the common good.  To create those responsible citizens that Ms. LaDuke spoke of.  Along these lines, the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AAC&U) has a major initiative known as LEAP:

Liberal Education and America’s Promise (LEAP) is an initiative that champions the value of a liberal education—for individual students and for a nation dependent on economic creativity and democratic vitality.[3]

In making a “Civic Case” for a liberal education, AAC&U has a slide presentation on their LEAP website (see reference 3) that is really worth all of us on college campuses to peruse.  Two slides in particular that caught my attention contained excerpts on “Education and Citizenship” from Ben Barber in An Aristocracy of Everyone[4]:
 
The fundamental task of education in a democracy is the apprenticeship of liberty—learning to be free... The literacy required to live in civil society, the competence to participate in democratic communities, the ability to think critically and act deliberately in a pluralistic world, the empathy that permits us to hear and thus accommodate others, all involve skills that must be acquired..

“Democracy is not a natural form...; it is an extraordinary and rare contrivance of cultivated imagination... [E]ndow the uneducated with a right to make collective decisions and what results is not democracy but...the government of private prejudice and the tyranny of opinion...”

Reviews of this book indicate that Barber’s perspectives are controversial, critical of conservative views, and exciting.  Exactly the types of topics we should be debating on campuses over twenty years later.

In 2010, I wrote a chapter for a monograph published by the Council on Undergraduate Research entitled “The Role of Department Chairs in Promoting and Supporting Transformative Research.”[5]  In that chapter, I noted that
 
In defining liberal education, the AAC&U LEAP initiative speaks of preparing individuals to deal with complexity—to “develop a sense of social responsibility, as well as strong and transferable intellectual and practical skills such as communication, analytical and problem-solving skills, and a demonstrated ability to apply knowledge and skills in real-world settings.”

The goal of creating an academic environment that could lead to transformative research is certainly not contrary to the institutional goals of liberally educating students and preparing them for making a positive impact on society. Indeed, students who are being taught in an environment that promotes critical thinking, a sense of social responsibility, and the application of knowledge gained to solve real-world problems are precisely the type of students who will likely be the next generation of innovators.

In rereading this now, I realize that the experiences of my non-linear career path were starting to converge in those words.  My role as educator, was to not only teach students about science and to give them experiences in research, but also to inspire in them a desire to be socially responsible and use their knowledge and experience to solve some of the world’s most challenging problems.  A lofty ambition, perhaps, but in my mind, an essential one.

I take students to the United Nation climate change conferences so that they can see the many world views on this topic that differ from the official position of the U.S.  We grapple over environmental and social justice issues when we are in the field of the largest Superfund site east of the Mississippi River, trying to figure out how to revegetate a mountain.  We even read excerpts from those who started the environmental movement and maintain it today.  Some of those famous scientists, writers, and activists have radical views, but they have changed public policy in this country, and some have had global impacts.  Certainly not the stuff of objective science, the type that is safely done in laboratories, hidden amongst the beakers and solutions and equipment.  If my students and I simply stayed in the labs and focused only on reciting the facts, would we be working on problems that really matter?  And if so, we would be doing so without really understanding the social and political context of the problems or any solution that we might come up with. 

~~~
If you are still following this rambling, you may be wondering what prompted this diatribe.  Several times in the past few months, I have found myself at conferences where the question of whether scientists should be engaged in advocacy on issues such as climate change.  I have been approached by some who fear that my climate change work is too liberal.  And recently, our college president chose to publicly admonish a colleague who wrote a thought-provoking, well-written opinion piece that was published in a local paper.

 What is this left-leaning work of mine that has some concerned?  I lead a project that involves ecological monitoring of eastern Pennsylvania, to see if there are signs of the impacts of a changing climate and whether we can predict vulnerability of species and habitats.  I serve on both state and international committees trying to advocate for science to be used in developing policy related to climate change.  My students, colleagues, and I blog from the U.N. meetings to report on what we are hearing and learning, since most of this is not covered by the U.S. media.  I even occasionally have an op-ed published, some of which are subjective, non-scientific pieces.[6]  Others are carefully crafted responses (retorts) to some really uneducated letters-to-the-editor that are filled with all sorts of factual errors, especially ones on the topic of climate change.  All radical stuff, I suppose, at least for a scientist and an educator.

I have a number of colleagues from other institutions who believe that it is an ethical obligation of higher education to deal with climate change – through curriculum, research, modeling best practices of sustainable practices, and public outreach.  I was recently reading a blog post on this topic and realized that Dr. John Lemons from the School of Law at Widener University captured the very essence of what I have been thinking in a much more articulate way that I could have written.  So to conclude, I share four excerpts from Dr. Lemons’ essay with emphasis added.[7] 

Why should universities deal with global climate change in a more wide-spread and comprehensive manner? The reason lies within university responsibilities to educate about important societal issues across all disciplines, including the benefits of liberal education for all students. Recent quantifiable scientific evidence concludes that mitigation of serious and irreversible consequences of global climate change are plausible but only if urgent action is taken within about a decade or so. Drawing on assessments about the efficacy of environmental and sustainability programs, it seems clear that “piecemeal” approaches to addressing the complicated root causes and possible solutions to global climate change will not work. Because of the pervasive influences that have caused global climate change, its solution needs to include all disciplines and programs.

In order to foster comprehensive education about global climate change, it will be necessary for educators and environmental scientists and managers, and high-level university administrators to advocate for university reform. One might not relish being involved in advocacy, but the stark choice is this: Either engage in advocacy or not. But if not, understand that this is a decision, intentional or unwitting, to support the status quo that is responsible for global climate change. Scientists or other educators who might be reticent to engage in advocacy because of fear that it might compromise real or perceived objectivity would be well advised to read Lemons (1987), Nelson and Vucetich (2009), and Moore and Nelson (2010) which dispel myths about the legitimacy of such reticence.
 
Seth (2008) makes explicit the failure of higher education to address the strong ties between capitalism and ever-increasing consumerism which, of course, increases the problems of global climate change. Vucetich and Nelson (2010) demonstrate how the lack of inclusion of ethics into sustainability programs, and by extension those with a focus on global climate change, is stifling progress. Nussbaum (2010) also lends her voice to how universities have neglected liberal and civic education and by doing so contribute to the root causes of problems such as global climate change.  

The failure of universities to develop comprehensive global climate change programs might also stem from a lack of attention to responsibilities that come with the protection of academic freedom, which not only allows faculty to conduct their own teaching and research, but also entails the responsibility to enable all students through university-wide programs of study to acquire learning to make significant contributions to society (AACU 2006). Academic freedom therefore requires faculty to advocate for the inclusion of comprehensive global climate change programs. Surely, global climate is a huge societal problem. Further, if faculty members avoid taking action this implicitly or unwittingly represents a form of advocacy because it is tantamount to supporting continuation of the status quo that is responsible for global climate change.
 
These excerpts include citations that can be found at the link that I provide; I highly encourage you to read the entire piece by Dr. Lemons.  And thanks for reading mine.





[1] Roger Meiners and Andrew Morriss, Silent Spring at 50: Reflections on an Environmental Classic, PERC Policy Series #51, 2012, available at http://perc.org/articles/silent-spring-50.  Or, see Miller, H.I. and Conko, G. “Rachel Carson’s Deadly Fantasies”, an op-ed in Forbes (9/5/12) available at http://www.forbes.com/sites/henrymiller/2012/09/05/rachel-carsons-deadly-fantasies/.


[2] AAAS American Association for the Advancement of Science. (1990) The Liberal Arts of Science: Agenda for Action. American Association for the Advancement of Science, Washington, D.C.



[4] Benjamin R. Barber, An Aristocracy of Everyone: The Politics of Education and the Future of America, Oxford University Press, 1992.


[5] In Kerry K. Karukstis and Nancy Hensel, eds., Transformative Research at Predominately Undergraduate Institutions, CUR Publications, 2010, available at: http://www.cur.org/assets/1/7/TRFull.pdf 



[7] John Lemons, Universities And The Need To Address Global Climate Change Across Disciplines and Programs, See: http://blogs.law.widener.edu/climate/2011/03/26/universities_and_the_need_to_address_global_climate_change_across_disciplines_and_programs/#more-120

 

 

 

Saturday, August 3, 2013

A summer evening walk

After taking a stab at poetry yesterday writing an Ode to August (http://watchingtheseasons.blogspot.com/2013/08/phenology-kind-of.html), I decided it was best to return to a form of writing that I am more familiar with - scientific reports.  But then I was interrupted.

 
After a rather rainy day, it cleared out nicely in late afternoon. The drier air and clear skies were calling, pleading for me to leave behind the report writing, if just for a little while. I love distractions. Heck, this report was due last May, so what are a few more hours? And enjoying a walk on a refreshing  and unusually cool August evening makes perfect sense when you are writing a section of a report on climate change and agriculture in Pennsylvania.

I was immediately rewarded with eight, yes eight, Red-spotted Purples on a single shrub! Limenitis arthemis – at least the subspecies in this region – is a mimic of the poisonous Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly (Battus philenor), and the same species as the very different looking White Admiral. Arthemis is likely an epitaph of Artemis – the goddess of the hunt, wild animals, childbirth, and protector of young girls. This deity was one of my favorites as a child; her Roman equivalent is Diana. I doubt that my mother named me after her, but I thought she was pretty cool anyway. These eight specimens appeared to be very fresh – not a tattered edge or faded spot of blue or orange among them.

Lately, I have been seeing large numbers of Spicebush and Eastern Tiger Swallowtails (genus Papilio – Latin for butterfly). They are particularly fond of my phlox and all the Monarda (bergamot, bee balm) growing on our property. I learned today (if Wikipedia is a trusted source) that this genus was named for Nicolás Monardes, who wrote a book in 1574 describing plants found in the New World. I think I would have enjoyed traveling around the world finding new plant species, although there weren’t too many women along on those early expeditions. (A great book on this topic is Flower Hunters by Mary and John Gribbon. The cover alone is worth buying the book for.) I digress. This plant, Monarda, has a long history as a medicinal plant being used as an antiseptic, a stimulant, or to treat everything from headaches to fevers to excessive flatulence. I wonder what it does for butterflies!

As I stopped to get Revi the crazed retriever, a family of Pileated Woodpeckers flew from a big old dead oak. I had heard the tapping while I was watching those black, blue, and orange goddesses, but hadn’t looked up to see who was making the noise. We have many different woodpeckers here. Lots of insects, lots of dying trees. And yes, our dog is named with a 4-letter code for a particular bird species. Do you know which one? They are common and quite noisy in our woods, although quieter now that it is August.

We went in the back woods, past the old pastures, and kicked up a covey of Ruffed Grouse – at least 5, some of which were obviously this year’s brood. Earlier this summer, Joren had spotted a mother with very young cheepers. He even got to witness the broken-wing dance that mothers do when they are protecting their babes. Growing up in Upper Michigan, I sort of took grouse for granted. Hunted them even. But they are much more uncommon in eastern PA, so it is good to know a) that they are breeding here and b) that some of the young made it to be teenagers.

Being a bird dog breed, Revi was quite pleased that he found me some game birds. I guess he decided that he deserved a reward, and ran off for a quick swim in the quarry ponds on the neighboring parcel. We haven’t been over there since last fall. These flat-coats sure have good memories. He returned soaking wet, saving his shake until he got very close to me. Thanks for sharing bud. But he looked so pleased with himself. I don’t know if it was because he flushed some birds or that he got to swim or that he drenched me with muddy waters.

When we returned, I checked one of our young peach trees – producing for the first time. Yup, more were ripe. This tree only teased me for the last few years, but now it is producing about ½ bushel a day. I don’t spray, so the fruit are far from cosmetically perfect, but they taste like heaven. I don’t think you can eat too many peaches when they are in season. Well, I suppose you could, and then you might need some of that medicinal bee balm. A good peach is something we never got in Upper Michigan. Only hard, tennis ball-like fruits that were never sweet and juicy.  Maybe someday, with global warming and all.

The sun had dropped behind the mountain when I brought Revi to the barn. Up in the old chestnut beams, the larger-than-head beaks of the latest round of barn swallow babies were all I could see above their nest. Always chirping, always hungry. Mom was no where around. Out collecting insects, I suppose. Hirundo rustica – nice name. This gang wouldn’t fledge for at least another week. I wonder where they go for winter. Will these same birds be back in our barn next spring? In April they return, about the same time our orchards begin to come into blossom. Which reminds me, I had better get back to that report chapter.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

A Lament amongst Celebration

I am feeling a bit blue tonight, perhaps from the exhaustion of the end of the semester.  Maybe it is because some really superb students graduated today, and while they are all headed to really exciting next-steps in their careers, I will miss them a lot.  Or perhaps it is because of the recent horrific news stories ranking from the senseless deaths in Bangladesh to the bombings in the Boston region to the monster that held three girls – now women – for a decade and subjected them to unimaginable physical and mental abuse.

Besides these potential explanations, I have been pondering the significance of the planet hitting the 400 ppm atmospheric CO2 mark this week.  When I was in graduate school, we used 340 ppm for setting instruments and calculations.  This summer, my research student Marla (who graduated today) used 400 ppm as "ambient conditions" to calibrate the equipment that she was using.  Perhaps it is these types of little things that make the issue so real for me. 

Another graduate from today, Caiti, has already taught the public about the impacts of climate change at Exit Glacier in the Kenai Peninsula.  After a lot of research and personal experience, she wrote an amazing paper this semester on climate change and coastal communities -- focusing on NJ, the islands off of Louisiana, and Alaskan communities - weaving common themes between these seemingly disparate regions of the country. 

I wonder what the CO2 number will be when Marla and Caiti will be teaching students or National Park visitors in the future.

Today’s faculty speaker at graduation (Chris, from my department) spoke of the importance of education, of fighting against those who would try to keep us ignorant.  Malala Yousafzai comes to mind.  But Chris reminded us of the 25 year old U.S. diplomat Anne Smedinghoff, killed in April while delivering books to a school in Afghanistan.  This sad story gets buried under all the current media coverage and politics surrounding the attacks in Benghazi.  Was Anne’s death any less disturbing or important than that of Ambassador Christopher Stevens?

Chris spoke of the growing anti-intellectualism in this country.  This is something I worry about a lot, especially as it related to the public's fear-turned-distrust-turned hostile sentiments towards science.  We all know of climate deniers and those who say evolution just couldn’t be true.  (Because us scientist types like to make up elaborate hoaxes.)  But there are also plenty of other examples where ignorance, especially about science, rears its ugly head.  This piece is just one small example of what we are up against:

https://chronicle.com/blogs/percolator/humans-are-animals-8-year-old-vs-misinformed-teacher/32709.  Thank goodness for children who try to educate the teachers and for those like Adam Frank who say it like it is:


But I digress from my ponderings on greenhouse gases and their impact on our world.  My honors student from last year (Anna, '11), examined long-term data sets, and documented the changing migration patterns of songbirds.  When she enters medical school, she is likely to hear about the health impacts of climate change.  Very likely she will be treating patients in the future for diseases once considered tropical, for heat stroke, or for pathogens we don’t even know about yet.   So many changes in the world around us; perhaps this is why I am sad.

A former student Sarabeth ('10) has gone to Peru and seen first-hand the impacts of climate change (water shortages) in rural communities - where many people don't know about climate change (as opposed to denying that it exists).  Paradoxically, next year, as she enters graduate school, she will work closely with a professor who studies the sociological impacts of flooding along the Mississippi River.  In a recent email, Sarabeth wrote

After coming home from Peace Corps, its became clear to me that community efforts at a local level are enough to get larger, regional forms of government to step-up and pay attention.  If they have a leader willing to put it all on the line...
 
You are so right Sarabeth.

I am beginning to sense that the current youth are igniting an activist movement that will once again – as has often happened in history – change the course of events for the better.  Recently, efforts at several colleges and universities aimed at getting campuses to divest in fossil fuel companies have caught the media’s attention:   



I can't imagine that my institution will go this route any time soon, but as the NPR story notes, "So far only a few small colleges have opted to drop investments in fossil fuel companies."  Small schools like College of the Atlantic and Swarthmore are taking the lead.

There are things for which my institution has taken a leading role (thanks mostly to faculty and students).  One example is our accreditation status as U.N. civil society observers for the climate conferences (the “COP” meetings).  Like with divestment, only a few small colleges (5 to be exact) have this distinction.  Sadly, it is not recognized by everyone on campus as something to promote and support more fully.  There is a growing call by many others for higher education to step up and show leadership with respect to climate change; thus, we should be proud of our leadership role here.

Another example where the college shines is in the number of students who have done important research in the restoration work at the Palmerton Superfund Site or within local watersheds.  Restoration is becoming increasingly linked to sustainability and building resilience to climate change.

So while I am extremely proud of the students who have walked across the stage at recent Moravian commencements, I am also frightful of what the future will hold for them and for my own children.  Maybe that is why I am a bit sad tonight.  But when I reflect on what they have already accomplished, what they will be doing, and the deep passion they demonstrate to be change agents, my sadness is tempered with a sense of hope.