The US Presidential Debate Domestic Policy Drinking Game

A fun way to enjoy the first presidential debate.

Obviously, the New Statesman doesn't advocate drinking in your place of work, or at all. (It also disapproves of dancing, and "that modern music".) You might perhaps enjoy this game with lemonade or water, or a refreshing iced tea. Over to Nicky:

As has become traditional, both parties are downplaying their chances of victory before debate night tonight. Romney has the easier job of this one. Obama's intimidating skills as a rhetorician helped him against McCain when he was an upstart candidate, but he needs to be careful; low expectations of Romney might trip the president up. He has to be amazing to maintain expectations, while all Romney has to do is not screw up to exceed them. That said, Romney is trailing in the polls, so he might go for broke tonight, which would be deeply entertaining – but if he doesn't try anything crazy, here's the New Statesman's Domestic Policy Debate Drinking Game to play.

The rules:

First, choose your candidate – or try to play with both if you haven't got work tomorrow.

There are several keywords to start you off: take a big swig when you hear them from your candidate. Romney's drink-on-hearing words are “deficit”, “gas prices” and “debt”. Obama's are “General Motors”, “college tuition”, and “investment.”

Both will be talking about “jobs” an awful lot, so this should only be a drink-word if you want to get really, seriously drunk.

A few set-pieces next: these are for everyone. Any time either candidate tells an anecdote in which they met someone specific, everyone must shout “Joe the Plumber!” and finish their drinks.

Any mention of the secret video filmed of Mitt Romney earlier this year – even a hint at its contents – everyone must down just over half of their remaining drinks and throw the last 47 per cent away. (See what we did there?)

If Obama talks about his childhood or youth, take a gulp from the drink of the person on your left. If Romney does the same, take a gulp from the drink of the person on your right. If either candidate mentions the word “freedom”, everyone high-fives.

Finally, verbal habits of each candidate. If one of them happens, everyone must repeat it out loud, and take a sip. For Obama, every time he says “my opponent” or “let me be clear”; you drink. Any time he makes a list of three on a rising cadence everyone must shout “three!” and drink.

For Romney, every time he refers to the audience as “my friends,” or laughs awkwardly, you drink. Every time he asks a rhetorical question and then says “I'll tell you why,” or “I'll tell you the answer,” you drink whether he then goes on to do so or not.

Nicky Woolf will be live-blogging the debate from 1am BST. He will not be drinking (right, Nicky?)

Obama and Romney on a T-shirt. Photograph: Getty Images

Nicky Woolf is reporting for the New Statesman from the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.