Climate change and the past

Are we hostage to the environmental crimes of our grandparents?

Finding your way into the ethics of climate change isn’t easy. Our values; human values, grew up in little, local, tribal worlds of plenty. But climate change requires thinking on a much different scale. It’s easy to see that someone shoplifting a bottle of tequila does wrong. There’s a thief, standing red-handed right in front of you. But who does wrong in the case of climate change? Is overfilling the kettle wrong? Is a long, hot shower a sin? Is a long-haul flight for a well-deserved weekend break a kind of evil? We can make a start by thinking about climate change and the past, present, and future. We’ll begin with historical thoughts on responsibility, with reflection on the history of emissions.

Sometimes the history of the present distribution of resources matters. Suppose each day we all take an equal share of the limited amount of water which bubbles up from a common well. It turns out that I’ve been sneaking a bit more for my Jacuzzi. You might reflect on compensatory or corrective justice issues, in the thought that I should now take less water, to make up for my past excesses. Think now about the developed world’s historical use of a scarce resource, namely the carbon-absorbing properties of our planet, the Earth’s carbon sinks. The UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization categorizes countries as developed or developing. If we follow these groupings, then since 1850 the developed world is responsible for 76 per cent of carbon dioxide emissions. It has therefore used up a vastly disproportionate share of the planet’s carbon sinks. It doesn’t take much thinking about corrective justice to come to the conclusion that the developed world has a responsibility to take serious action on climate change. It was easy enough to see it in the case of the well.

Several thoughts get in the way of seeing this conclusion clearly. Maybe the most common one goes like this. Perhaps the past sometimes matters when we think about divvying up a scarce resource, but we are talking about the actions of people long dead. Maybe the activities of my parents and grandparents and so on conspired together to bring about climate change, but I didn’t do it. Saying now that I must tighten my belt because of a past injustice is nothing less than holding me responsible for the sins of my father.

We might be able to get away with that thought if it were true that our lives were entirely disconnected from the industrial activities of our forebears. However, as the philosopher Henry Shue points out, we owe the comfy lives we’ve got to all that past industrial activity. We in the west – with comparatively excellent health care and education, with nations bolstered by a sturdy infrastructure and healthy economies – are enjoying lives of plenty partly because of our histories. We’ve benefited from industrialization, and others will suffer for it as our climate changes. Do we not owe those who will suffer a few sea walls and the promise to reign in our emissions as quickly as we possibly can?

James Garvey has a PhD in philosophy from University College London and is Secretary of the Royal Institute of Philosophy. He is author of some books and articles, most recently, The Ethics of Climate Change (Continuum 2008)
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Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.