The walk around problem

I recently heard someone refer to climate change as a “walk around problem,” a problem that seems neither immediate nor catastrophic, allowing people to ignore inconvenient realities as if they aren’t there. It’s an apt description, but not because people are dumb or burying their heads in the sand.

The fact is, both scientists and the press tend to frame climate change as a disaster that awaits us rather than in the present tense. This article , for example, asserts “by 2060, about 60% of Miami-Dade County will be submerged.”

One need not wait, of course, until the land is underwater to make living there untenable for many. In June of this year, a no-name storm system dumped 20 inches of rain over two days in the Miami area, causing severe flooding. One man said he had just completed $37,000 in repairs on his house, not covered by insurance, only to have it flood again. And hurricane season had just begun.

Nor is Miami “ground zero” for climate change. Two mountainous counties in eastern Kentucky have been declared federal disaster areas fourteen times in the last thirteen years. The price of flood insurance there has quadrupled, not only making it out of reach for many families, but making their homes unsellable. The government has offered to buy the homes of 150 residents, but not everyone wants to move.

Who’s to say they wouldn’t face similar problems wherever they moved next? Studies estimate that one-third to one-half of American homes are at high risk for a natural disaster . I mean, sweet Vermont, formerly called out as a climate haven , has become one of America’s disaster hot spots.

Already insurance companies are pulling out of states like California, Texas, and Florida, leaving taxpayer funded “insurance policies of last resort” as the only (expensive) option. But even those last resorts are running out of funds. And more states, like South Carolina, Oklahoma, and Louisiana, may soon be in the same situation as private insurance companies stop offering policies to homeowners.

What happens when you can’t afford insurance but you also can’t afford the repairs from repeated disasters? What happens when you’re upside down on your mortgage and can’t move? More importantly, what happens to the economy when all of the above is true?

The truth is, a walk around problem is something to be grateful for. It means there’s still time to prepare. I like how the main character describes it in Issac Asimov’s book Foundation. I’m paraphrasing, but the gist is there is a dark period coming that we cannot prevent, but we can reduce how long the darkness lasts and how dark it gets.

That’s what we’re fighting for.

There are lots of good resources on how to reduce your carbon footprint and physically prepare for an increase in the number and severity of climate-fueled disasters. What I think hasn’t gotten enough attention is how we prepare ourselves mentally and emotionally. Here are three ways to get started:

1. Start with gratitude

Gratitude is a great first step to being able to sit with a challenge without freaking out. Gratitude also serves as a gentle reminder about impermanence. Buddhism offers great teachings on this topic, suggesting that suffering results from an inability to accept that nothing lasts.

When we accept that absolutely everything, even states of being, will come and go, then we are less likely to take those things for granted. In fact, we may try to extend the existence of things we value, but from a place of love rather than fear.

2. Build community

Few things are as comforting as knowing you are a part of a community. And the more involved you are, the more you literally see how we are interconnected. The billionaires who think they can survive better behind walled off compounds are delusional.

There are three dimensions of social connectedness : intimate, relational, and collective. What I’m mainly referring to is the last one, collective connectedness, which is generated by a network of people with common interests or a shared sense of purpose.

For example, I’m very involved in my local Buy Nothing Facebook group, a delightful way to save money and build relationships with people who aren’t your immediate neighbors. I’ve also joined gardening groups, attended events at the local library, and have gotten to know other parents at sports events.

This loose group of connections means if I ever need something, whether it’s a recommendation, information, or to borrow something, I know someone in my network has me covered. It provides huge peace of mind.

But even if you aren't a natural connector, take heart. As Rebecca Solnit describes with case studies of one disaster after another in her terrific book A Paradise Built in Hell

In the wake of an earthquake, a bombing, or a major storm, most people are altruistic, urgently engaged in caring for themselves and those around them, strangers and neighbors as well as friends and loved ones. The image of the selfish, panicky, or regressively savage human being in times of disaster has little truth to it.

3. Be a leader in the transition

One of the things that has eased my climate anxiety the most has been to begin the transition towards net zero myself. It’s not easy, it will take time, and it’s not all within my control. But it feels so good to be in action rather than waiting for others to act.

This is what it means to be a leader, after all!

I think doing the work yourself also gives you perspective. While society has made enormous progress towards large-scale installation of renewable energy, success there is not enough. Greenhouse gases are embedded in every aspect of our society, from agriculture to building materials and plastics and so much more.

Seeing how hard it is firsthand, how much our habits and infrastructure need to change, means I’m less angry and more solutions focused. I wish society had started this transition in earnest decades ago, but I also wish I had started this transition in earnest years ago. Empathy grants us grace.

Most of all, I think it’s important we imagine a future that is not merely a carbon copy of our current society, minus the carbon. The truth is that nothing creates opportunity like, well, disaster. What we believe and how we show up now will have enormous implications on what kind of future we create.

It’s all mindset, baby.

No, I’m kidding, it’s not only mindset. But one thing I can say for certain: if we don't work to get the mindset right, the best technology in the world won't save us.