We all know the size of the footprints we leave behind. For the record, mine’s a size 8 (42), which is bigger than many I guess, but I’m tall and I need the ballast or I’d fall flat on my face. My carbon footprint is another matter.
In the U.K., the average person emits 10.92 tons of CO2 — you can almost double that for the U.S. But of course there’s no such thing as the average person. Grassroots campaigns such as 10:10 are doing a great job to build awareness, but the difficulty is working out where to start. It’s easy to track your progress on a diet because you know your weight, but how do you reduce your carbon footprint by 10 percent, if you don’t know what it is in the first place?
Measuring your carbon footprint should be simple. There are dozens of calculators out there to help you with the math, but almost all of them have a major flaw: they are selective with the truth. The U.K. government’s widely advertised Act on CO2 Web site for example, places the carbon blame squarely with home and transport. But it fails to factor in two of the top three causes of an individual’s carbon emissions: recreation and diet (at number one and three, according to Carbon Trust).
Light bulbs, however, feature prominently. So it’s no surprise that a survey by the HSBC Climate Partnership last year, found that consumers rated using energy efficient light bulbs as the biggest contribution they could make to reduce their emissions. But lighting your home accounts for just 1 percent of your carbon footprint. What of the remaining 99 percent?
We are being kept in the dark about changes that will make a real difference. And you can recycle until you are green in the face, but it remains a relatively modest contribution to cutting your carbon count. How you spend your leisure time, heating your home and the food that you eat, are the heavy hitters on the carbon scale. Surprisingly, driving and flying figure way down the top ten, at seven and eight respectively.
Climate change is all about the numbers. Baselines (1990), emission targets (4 percent, 10 percent, 17 percent, 30 percent), CO2 parts per million (350; 387), deadlines (2020, 2050), even climate change conferences. How many people know what COP15 stands for? The clock is ticking and we have just 100 months to save the world, or 8.333333333 years, which doesn’t sound nearly as sexy.
It’s hard not to be dazzled by the data and the trouble with all these numbers is that they are not words. Unless you are fluent in binary, figures are difficult to digest. We need to simplify the message or no one will take any action at all. Not because people choose to defy impending climate doom, but because the science is impenetrable.
The biggest communications challenge with climate change is that it doesn’t make easy reading: It’s more Tolstoy than Twilight.
As science writer Ben Goldacre said last week, “we could discuss everything you needed to know about MMR and autism in an hour. Climate change will take two days of your life.” And the MMR/autism comparison is significant here. Much like the climate science email leaks, which were vindicated by a recent Associated Press investigation, MMR faced a massive scare based on one study which was later discredited. But that didn’t stop hundreds of thousands of parents refusing to vaccinate their children.
It seems we are willing to fly in the face of the weight of scientific evidence when it involves changing behaviour, but when it comes to protecting our own, a lone voice in the research community is enough to make us sit up and listen.
And this is the problem with attitudes towards climate change in the western world. We just don’t see the risk of it around us — yet. This perceived lack of threat translates into little concern or action. Climate change may be causing havoc in the third world, but if it isn’t happening in your back yard, then what’s the worry?
On the eve of a climate change deal or no deal in Copenhagen, the question is not only about governments agreeing the right emissions targets, but how they will effect behaviour change in millions of people. Taxation and rationing have been suggested, but they are unpopular, and with a fickle electorate, politically risky.
Last year, the government launched the world’s first carbon footprint standard for all products in the U.K., tracking the carbon journey of everything from strawberries to steak. But the scheme is currently voluntary, so no one has to do it. And like the early days of nutritional labeling, it may only be the carbon leaner products that boast of their environmental credentials.
Given that imposing change wins no votes and carbon labeling is marginal, perhaps in the future consumers will face a social conscience choice. The kind of graphic images we now see on cigarette packets may be levied on our food, flights and fuel: a visual warning of the consequences of our actions, not on ourselves, but on the planet.
Instead of blackened human lungs, we could see a snapshot of ailing rainforests stamped on every globe traveling, carbon guzzling goods and services we use. A constant reminder that as we recklessly consume, the planet struggles to breathe.
Far fetched? Possibly. The question is, what would it take to change your ways?