A case for hope on climate

I suspect that it’s not hard to convince readers of this column that climate change is upon us and has been for some time. Gardeners are acutely aware that many plants that thrived twenty years ago are having trouble today. The USDA’s Plant Hardiness Zones are moving steadily north. This goes along with the big fires, big droughts and big heat that have been highlighted in the last few months.

My case for hope on climate change centers around the principal means to slow the process down: stop burning stuff. The deployment of clean energy is happening very rapidly these days. In 2022, investments in renewables outstripped investments in fossil fuels for the first time. Electrification of buildings and transportation is accelerating, not just because it keeps carbon out of the atmosphere, but because it’s cheaper.

And it works on the small scale of our homes. Two years ago, we put on a solar roof, and last year we installed a heat pump to replace our furnace and air conditioner. In the process, we ran a 220-volt line to the garage to charge our next car, an EV. On Saturday, July 29th, a big, hot, 97° scorcher, our solar panels produced more electricity than the air conditioner (heat pump) used. We sent 4kW back to the grid that day, and we get Solar Renewable Energy Credit deposits in our bank account every other month.

As a side benefit, when we stop burning stuff indoors, we stop inhaling combustion byproducts that shorten our lives: benzene, nitrous oxide, formaldehyde. And we stop leaking methane, a greenhouse gas 80 times more potent than carbon dioxide, into the atmosphere.I’ve ridden my bicycle to many of the places in North America where climate change comes from, i.e., where carbon is coming out of the ground.

The Permian Basin of West Texas is the largest oil field in North America, and flames from the flaring of natural gas are visible everywhere. But a funny thing happens just east of Midland, capital of the Permian: the horizon is moving. There in the distance are dozens of giant wind turbines, each taller than a football field. Along with its vast oil fields, Texas is also the largest generator of wind energy in the nation. A place that’s a big part of the problem is also a big part of the solution.

It’s also commonplace to complain about gridlock in the political system. I look back on the Paris Climate Accords of 2015, and it’s still amazing to me that 196 countries, some mortal enemies, could come to an agreement on climate change.  More recently, the Inflation Reduction Act, basically the first serious climate legislation, happened last year and is making a difference across the economy.

All of this is not happening fast enough.

Because sea level rise lags behind temperature increases, which lags behind emission reductions, it will still take a long time to keep the oceans from rising. That means some favorite seaside places won’t make it. The heat, the fires, the droughts will keep coming. Unfortunately, the worst is ahead of us. Yet we need not hope for some undreamed-of technology to address the problem. The tools are here, and what we need is the political will. It will take a lot of pushing. I think of a quote from Rebecca Solnit:

“Hope is not a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. Hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency.”

Submitted by David Goodrich, a retired climate scientist from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. He is the author of three books, including “Voyage Across an Ancient Ocean: A Bicycle Journey Through the Northern Dominion of Oil.”

Editor’s note: After a recent column about the aroma of katsura trees, a reader suggested those interested can come by her street in Downingtown to experience the delight from her several trees. If interested, contact me for her address.