The weak but well-funded arguments for techno-optimism in the face of climate chaos have kept on coming. The latest were a series of articles in mainstream press about a book that claims renewable energy will sustain societies while stabilising the global climate. Brazilian researcher Claudia Gasparovic, offered a rapid debunking of the book’s arguments, in a post on LinkedIn. Similar arguments were put to the book’s author by journalist Rachel Donald for Mongabay. The weakness of techno-optimism on climate change was something I explored in my book Breaking Together. If you read Chapter 3, you will know that the idea modern societies can maintain current consumption patterns by switching to entirely renewable energy is one founded upon blindness to material dimensions of energy generation and storage. If you read Chapter 4, you will know that energy and carbon dioxide are two issues within a far broader problem of the ecological overshoot by modern societies. If you read Chapter 5, you will know that the momentum of change in our oceans and atmosphere, coupled with the dramatic loss of cooling aerosols and cloud-seeding forest cover, means we are already within a scary situation with climate.
My book is not unusual for presenting the inconvenient science on our situation. However, techno-optimism appears to be a cultural obligation within modern societies. That means people who doubt the ability of technology to save us are considered to be negative and displaying a lack of faith in the human race. This is the ideological basis for ‘ecomodernism’, the view that tech will deliver us to an ecological civilisation. This view leads to what I have termed ‘moodsplaining’ whereby we are told by influential people that we should be more positive about the environmental situation.
The dangers of these demands for optimism are multiple. First, there is a technocratic de-radicalisation of the environmental crisis, whereby we are encouraged to think that we don’t need political struggle against incumbent elites in order to respond effectively. Second, there is the potential for ‘green’ neocolonialism, whereby pristine environments of the income poor are trashed for the electric lifestyles of rich consumers. Third, there is the potential for authoritarianism, as surveillance capitalism is offered as the way for powerful institutions to make the public reduce our carbon footprints. Fourth, there is the lack of introspection on modernity, capitalism, consumerism, and the whole culture that drove us into this tragedy in the first place. Finally, there is the gaslighting of the public, especially the young, on the true severity of the situation, so that we are robbed of the chance to consider how we wish to live in an era of disruption and collapse.
One person who is often cited as a champion of optimism in the face of the climate tragedy is the Costa Rican diplomat Christiana Figueres. She was the Executive Secretary of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), and subsequently wrote “the stubborn optimist’s guide to the climate crisis.” She collaborates with a Buddhist community founded by Thich Nhat Han. That’s of interest to me, as Buddhism has been a crucial support for me over the last decade as I came to realise the proximity of the ecological crisis. As Christiana and some monks from the Plum Village Buddhist community are coming to Indonesia, where I live, I have decided to attend their gathering. In preparation, I thought it useful to explore what might be my own form of ‘stubborn optimism’. So recently on retreat at the Brahma Vihara temple, I wrote down what I am optimistic about.
I found it a useful exercise, so want to share with you what I identified. It turns out that we doomsters can be positive about many things, beyond the naive and avoidant ideas that dominate popular culture. After reading the following, I recommend you also attempt this reflection for yourself.
This is what I wrote at the Temple:
I’m more than optimistic that many people will live bravely in truth and love, without attachment to ideas of impact, progress or salvation.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will try to reduce harm for others, the young, and wider life, without resorting to aggression.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will allow the ecological predicament to reveal the dysfunction of modern societies, including systems of imperialism and capitalism.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will allow the despair from realising the ecological predicament to transform their identity and worldview.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will continue to analyse ‘the abyss’ to identify where action might still be useful, rather than exit from such difficult inquiry to assume either salvation or extinction.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will resist the panicked responses of elites and the many forms of denial that will be promoted to us.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will seek to make amends for our own past contributions to destruction and inertia.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will escape carbon tunnel vision, to contribute to action on forests and ocean health, while balancing priorities compassionately.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will not disregard or dismiss these positive responses because we don’t claim that they will stop climate change from exacting catastrophic damage.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will discover personal benefits from their acceptance of collapse and will gravitate to the more mystical teachings of world religions and wisdom traditions.
I’m more than optimistic that many people will sense that the universe is eternally creative and will inevitably produce future sentient beings that experience life as meaningful.
I’m more than optimistic because I know that the responses I’ve listed above are real for many people already.
This sense of optimism is why in Breaking Together, I wrote:
“My vision therefore includes millions of people of most faiths and none, having become newly aware of the way some of the dominant systems of communication have distorted their experience of themselves, others and nature. Consequently, they will cause less suffering, resist it more, and enable more joy, creativity and transcendence. Henceforth I will refer to this vision of the future as an Evotopia. That is because ‘evo’ means to behold or witness and ‘topia’ means a place or reality. An Evotopia is the idealised scenario where humanity better beholds natural reality so that both destruction slows and beauty flows.”
In my experience, this form of optimism arises naturally when emerging from despair at the planetary predicament. So it’s more of an effortless optimism than a stubborn one. However, as societies become more deranged through corporate-driven narratives of authoritarian ecomodernism versus climate denial, then I anticipate we will need greater efforts to be steadfast in the deeper optimism I have described above. That can be helped with both mindfulness and experiences of collective consciousness or divine presence.
It’s from this optimism that I write, teach and now fundraise for relocalising regenerative agriculture. I’m stubbornly optimistic that some of you, my readers, will support me to help the farmers in my new home of Bali switch to more resilient and regenerative methods of farming. You can do that by joining our Bekandze Farm crowdfund. Please check it out here.
Some of my previous writing on hope, optimism, and vision, in the face of collapse:
Hope in a time of climate chaos – a speech to psychotherapists
Don’t police our emotions – climate despair is inviting people back to life.
Please Don’t Shut up Mr Franzen – breaking the taboo on our climate tragedy.
Hope and Vision in the Face of Collapse – The 4th R of Deep Adaptation
The Spiritual Invitation of Climate Chaos.
Let’s tell the moodsplainers they’re wrong and then get back to work
Let’s have faith in reality and humanity, not the tired hopes of modernity
Prof Jem Bendell 