Alice Macaskie explores the violence of climate change in this week's guest blog:
Does
being a consumer make you inherently violent?
Before his death in March this year, Professor
Steven Hawking said that humans have just 100
years to populate a new planet if they are to survive. He explains
that if we continue to “confine” ourselves to Earth, then we risk annihilation.
Nuclear war, artificial intelligence gone rogue, and climate change are cited
as some of the major culprits for this bold statement. What each has in common
is that they are linked to the actions of human beings. Despite the latter
being harder to quantify or prove, does being a consumer – with an insatiable
addiction to fossil fuels – by default make you the perpetrator of violence against
those living in countries affected by increasing levels of drought, famine and
turbulent weather patterns?
Violence can take many forms: psychological,
structural, sexual, cultural, symbolic and negative. It is inherently hard to
define and measure. Looking at the Continuum of Violence, is it possible to say
that one form – such as self-harming, suicide, civil war or genocide – is any
better, worse or more evil than another? Arguably the definition and force of
violence depends at least in part on how it is understood. David Riches’ view
of violence as a triangular relationship between a perpetrator, victim, and witness begins to break down the
idea of a concrete and localised violent interaction. Tied in with Neil Whitehead’s
view of violence as a cultural performance globalised through the world’s
media, it becomes apparent how we in the Global North may take on the part of
witness or observer. This post takes the idea a step further, arguing that as a
consumer in a capitalist society, knowingly adding fuel to the climate change
furnace, you embody each role of witness, victim, and importantly, perpetrator.
Structural violence is a term coined in 1969 by
Johan
Galtung, meaning the non-negotiated loss of choice, or “anything
avoidable that impedes human self-realisation”. This matters because it is
important to understand whether we can talk about violence when nobody is
committing it directly, from one person to another. Galtung’s definition shows us
that violence is “built into the structure and shows up as unequal power and
consequently as unequal life chances.” It is a form of social injustice. A
recent report by the UN News clearly
puts this into context. UN Deputy Secretary-General, Amina Mohammed, highlights
that in order to achieve peace and sustainable development in the Sahel region
in Africa, it is necessary to tackle the root causes of “discrimination, human
rights violations, weak governance, conflict, and the impact of climate change”.
Spanning northern sub-Saharan Africa, the Sahel
region is one of the most vulnerable areas to climate change in the world. Consisting
of 10 countries, this ecoclimatic zone has seen a massive 4.9 million people
displaced this year, with a further 24 million people in need of humanitarian
assistance. Rapid growth population is “estimated at 2.8% per year” in an
environment of shrinking natural resources, reports the UN News. The impact of
climate change has been highlighted by
the President of the UN’s Economic and Social Council, Inga Rhonda King, as a
significant and compounding factor to the issues in the Sahel region. A key
question for political theorists is, should anthropogenic climate change – and
those knowingly fuelling it – be redefined as a violation of human rights? A
crime against all of humanity and our biodiverse planet?
Climate change has become highly politicised. Despite
President Trump’s initial forthright views on global warming as
a hoax,
he has since regressed his position slightly: “I think there’s probably a
difference, but I don’t know that it’s man-made.” Since being in office, he has
dropped climate change from his National Security Strategy’s list of global
threats, made numerous anti-environmental policy changes, and withdrawn the
United States from the 2015 Paris Agreement. Conversely, scientists
argue that there is “no convincing alternative explanation” that
anything other than human activity, particularly the burning of fossil fuels
and destruction of forests, is to blame.
Call it what it is, argues Rebecca Solnit in The
Guardian, “Climate change is violence”. We can see its impacts
around the globe: desertification, droughts, floods, crop failure and
consequent famine, acidification of our oceans, the decline of many species and
increasingly extreme weather patterns. We are now seeing the emergence of disaster
relief charities like Team Rubicon – an organisation
that uses the skills and knowledge of ex-military veterans – to “create order
in the wake of destruction”. Devastating local- and global-scale natural
weather events like hurricanes, earthquakes and tsunamis are having to be
responded to and planned for in the same way as civil or nuclear warfare.
“Climate change is global-scale violence,
against places and species as well as against human beings”, continues Solnit.
As a result of globalisation, we are the first generation to fully comprehend
the negative impact that our action (or in-action) is having on the planet. If
humans are knowingly using fossil fuels – for transportation, electricity,
plastics, and even computers – is it too far fetched to call our avoidable use
of natural resources a form of violence? As Galtung highlights, “The objective
consequences, not the subjective intentions are the primary concern” of
structural violence. In October, The UN’s Climate Change Panel (IPCC) published
a
report warning that the human race has just over a decade to curb
our climate emissions, otherwise just under half a billion more people will
suffer. But, despite all the stark warnings, there are glimmers of hope. The BBC
News notes how “miniature suns” or nuclear fusion reactors could
bring a commercial solution to the fore in the next five years. Will Steven
Hawking’s prediction prove right, or can the human race pull itself and the planet
back from the brink of destruction?
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