Most viewers and reviewers have been enthusiastic. In part, this reflects the contrast between our collective memory of the programmed and stiff Democratic presidential candidate and Gore’s movie persona. Ironically, by being in the wonkiest context imaginable, he comes across as passionate, sincere, and likable. Gore also delivers his message well. He simplifies the science without oversimplifying. His clear graphs and often captivating images can propel viewers to the conclusion that climate change is a present and fast-paced reality, rather than a far-off and slowly evolving possibility. This is the “inconvenient truth” that he counterposes to denial by both leaders and the public.
As I sat in the theater, though, I kept glancing down at my watch. I wasn’t bored, but was wondering when the spotlight would shift from the problem to a meaningful discussion of solutions and strategies for change. As the movie neared its end, I was still waiting. Finally, interspersed with the closing credits, the movie offered suggestions for “what you personally can do.” That this was presented literally as an afterthought was disappointing enough, but much of the content also seemed tired, rehashing such familiar nostrums as buying compact fluorescent lightbulbs and bringing a reusable tote to the supermarket, as well as an earnest suggestion that got a big laugh in my theater: run for Congress.
To be sure, several million people have now walked away from theaters with a clearer sense of what Gore rightly describes as a planetary emergency. In this sense, he seems to have won the argument. More accurately, he has effectively popularized the argument already “won” in the scientific community: global climate change is real; is happening; and, if it remains unchecked, will have devastating impacts upon life on earth.
Yet Gore’s project is obviously designed to get people to act to avert the crisis that he describes. What impact will winning this particular argument—about the pressing nature of the problem—have upon action? The premise of the movie—a commonplace one in environmentalist circles—is that the impact will be great. Yet this premise is dubious and often limits the success of environmentalist efforts.
Environmentalists often diagnose public opinion as a key obstacle to effective action on concerns including climate change. The public is ignorant; we must inform and educate them. The public is apathetic; we must shout louder to shake them of their apathy. The public is egoistic and materialistic; we must appeal to morality and get them to sacrifice. The director of the climate program for the Natural Resources Defense Council, for example, recently lamented in the New York Times, “I wish I were more optimistic of our ability to get a broad slice of the public to understand [climate change] . . . we understand diesel soot because we can smell it and see it. Getting global warming is too much of an intellectual process. Perhaps pictures of drowning polar bears (which we are trying to find) will move people . . .” (The movie’s producers apparently couldn’t find any images of drowning polar bears either, so they created an animated version.)
To the extent that the diagnosis is correct, inattention to action makes perfect sense: once we convince “them” that climate change is a real concern, “they” will act. The challenge is the first step rather than the second; the lack of action makes it plain that we need to work harder on convincing people that the concern is real.
But claims that public ignorance (or apathy or egoism) is now the primary obstacle to change are, themselves, a problem. They misrepresent the character of public attitudes and so unintentionally can set the stage for political quiescence. Yet Gore’s approach is deeply rooted in this diagnosis. As he put it in an interview (at Grist.org), “[N]obody is interested in solutions if they don’t think there’s a problem.” His slideshow encapsulates the prescriptions—educate us, scare us, appeal to our morality—that emanate from this view.
Recent public opinion polls show that a growing majority does believe that climate change is a real problem. In other words, before seeing the movie—and despite the scientific controversy feigned by right-wing ideologues and self-interested industries—a clear majority of all Americans (and surely an even greater percentage of those viewing the movie or reading the book) are already convinced of the problem of which Gore wants to convince us.
If we treat the lack of action on climate change as evidence that people “don’t think there’s a problem,” then efforts like Gore’s appear to be exactly what is needed. But if most viewers, and a majority of all Americans, are already convinced that climate change is real, and yet solutions remain unfamiliar or elusive, what impact will this film have? Here, it seems likely to heighten cynicism and despair. That’s an inconvenient truth that Gore makes little effort to tackle. His effort, such as it is, invokes American’s historic can-do, if-we-can-put-a-man-on-the-moon-we-can-rise-to-the-occasion-and-meet-this-challenge-too spirit. That’s a pretty thin reed upon which to rest our hopes.
I DON'T WISH to sound naďve: ambitious solutions that go beyond litanies of light-bulbs, shopping bags, and recycling are not easy to devise, nor will they be won readily. And certainly ignorance, apathy, and egoism do pose challenges. Yet the fundamental weakness revealed in public opinion polls about environmental concerns in general and climate change in particular is not a lack of support but a lack of salience: despite widespread concern, it just never rises anywhere near the top of the list of most pressing issues. Those at the top often seem more immediate and integral to everyday life.
Here, the ubiquity of climate change—its threat to so many aspects of our lives—provides an opening. There are many actions that can engage people in reducing emissions of CO2 and other global warming gases. To be effective, we must move beyond individual lifestyle choices. Although such choices might promote a sense of personal efficacy, they can also promote an “I gave at the office” mind-set if they are not closely linked to a broader agenda for social and political change.
A serious push to retrofit buildings for conservation and renewable energy, to develop innovative and flexible forms of transit, to foster in-fill development rather than sprawl, or to restore wetlands that can mitigate the destructiveness of hurricanes are just some approaches that require a serious investment of public resources to be realized on a large scale. This sort of community development and reinvestment may appear politically infeasible. Yet for those who seek meaningful employment, cheaper and more convenient transportation, reduced utility bills, or more comfortable homes, such an agenda could prove not only salient but highly attractive.
By developing such strategies, we might foster a conversation about how to tackle climate change that emerges from the concerns of everyday life, rather than attempting to trump these concerns. That could have allowed moviegoers to leave theaters with a vision that addresses climate change by working to make their lives and communities better, rather than leaving us with the too easy sense that knowledge or awareness itself is all that is needed if we are to dodge the bullet on climate change.
.gif)
