Within the past several days, several of my concerns regarding my contribution to the environment have gone from troubling to existentially crippling. This has a lot to do with the recent announcement that the US federal government will no longer be party to the Paris Climate Agreement, but also a lot to with the revelation that my personal carbon footprint is somewhere between four and five times the average for a US resident, roughly nine times the average for a citizen living in an industrialized nation, about twenty five times the average for all humans, and a whopping forty seven times the target footprint which all humans will need to adopt to continue our present rate of economic growth and avoid a global cataclysm. Needless to say, this news is both sobering and distressing.
As it were, I can say quite easily why my footprint is so large. First, there is the fact that the house I live in is terribly, awfully, horrifically inefficient. With a combination of poor planning and construction, historically questionable maintenance, and periodic weather damage from the day I moved in, the house leaks energy like a sieve. The construction quality of the foundation and plumbing is such that massive, energy-sucking dehumidifiers are required to keep mold to tolerable minimums. Fixing these problems, though it would be enormously expensive and disruptive, would go some way towards slashing the energy and utility bills, and would shave a good portion of the excess off. By my back of the envelope calculations, it would reduce the household energy use by some 35% and the total carbon footprint by about 5%.
There is transportation, which comprises some 15-20% of the total. While there is room for improvement here, the nature of my health is such that regular trips by private motor vehicle is a necessity. Public transport infrastructure in my area is lacking, and even where it exists, is often difficult to take full advantage of due to health reasons. This points to a recurring theme in my attempts to reduce the environmental impact which I inflict: reducing harm to the planet always ends up taking a backseat to my personal health and safety. I have been reliably told that this is the way that it ought to be, but this does not calm my anxieties.
The largest portion of by carbon footprint, by an overwhelming margin, is the so-called “secondary” footprint; that is, the additional carbon generated by things one buys and participates in, in addition to things one does. So, for example, if some luxury good is shipped air mail from another continent, the secondary footprint factors in the impact of that cargo plane, even though one was not physically on said plane. This isn’t factored into every carbon footprint calculator, and some weight it differently than others. If I were to ignore my secondary footprint entirely , my resulting impact would be roughly equivalent to the average American (though still ten times where it needs to be to avoid cataclysm).
Of my secondary footprint, the overwhelming majority is produced by my consumption of pharmaceutical products, which, it is noted, are especially waste-prone (not unreasonably; given the life-and-death nature of the industry, it is generally accepted that the additional waste created by being cautious is worth it). Herein lies my problem. Even if I completely eliminated all other sources of emissions, the impact of my health treatments alone would put me well beyond any acceptable bounds. Expending fewer resources is not realistically possible, unless I plan to roll over and stop breathing.
The implications for my largely utilitarian moral framework are dire. If, as it seems, thirty people (or three average Americans) could live comfortably with the same resources that I expend, how can I reasonably justify my continued existence? True, this isn’t quite so clear cut as one person eating the food of thirty. Those numbers represent averages, and all averages have outliers. Carbon output reduction isn’t a zero-sum game, but rather a collective effort. Moreover, the calculation represents averages derived from current industrial processes, which will need be innovated on a systemwide level to make the listed goals achievable on the global level which is required to prevent cataclysm.
These points might be more assuring if I still had faith that such a collective solution would in fact be implemented. However, current events have called this into serious question. The Paris Climate Agreement represents a barest minimum of what needs to be done, and was specifically calibrated to have a minimal impact on economic growth. The United States was already ahead of current targets to meet its obligations due to existing forces. While this does reinforce the common consensus that the actual withdrawal of the US will have a relatively small impact on its contribution to environmental damage, it not only makes it easier for other countries to squirm their way out of their own obligations by using the US as an example, but also demonstrates a complete lack of the scientific understanding, political comprehension, and international good faith which will be necessary to make true progress towards averting future cataclysm.
That is to say, it leaves the burden of preventing environmental catastrophe, at least in the United States, in the hands of individuals. And given that I have almost as much (or, as it happens, as little) faith in individuals as I do in the current presidential administration, this means in effect that I feel compelled to take such matters upon myself personally. Carrying the weight of the world upon my shoulders is a feeling that I have grown accustomed to, particularly of late, but to have such a situation where these necessary duties are openly abandoned by the relevant authorities makes it seem all the more real.
So, now that I have been given the solemn task of saving the world, there are a few different possibilities. Obviously the most urgent problem for me is solving my own problems, or at least, finding a way to counteract their effects. For a decent chunk of cash, I could simply pay someone to take action on my behalf, either by planting trees, or offering startup cash for projects that reduce carbon emissions somewhere else in the world, so that the net impact is zero. Some of these programs also hit two birds with one stone by targeting areas that are economically or ecologically vulnerable, doing things like boosting crop yields and providing solar power to developing communities. While there is something poetic about taking this approach, it strikes me as too much like throwing money at a problem. And, critically, while these services can compensate for a given amount, they do not solve the long-term problem.
Making repairs and upgrades to the house will no doubt help nudge things in the right direction. Putting up the cash to properly insulate the house will not only save excess heating fuel from being burned, but will likely result in the house staying at a more reasonable temperature, which is bound to help my health. Getting out and exercising more, which has for a long while now been one of those goals that I’ve always had in mind but never quite gotten around to, particularly given the catch-22 of my health, will hopefully improve my health as well, lessening the long term detriments of my disability, as well as cutting down on resources used at home when indoors (digital outdoors may still outclass physical outdoors, but also sucks up a lot more energy to render).
This is where my efforts hit a brick wall. For as busy as I am, I don’t actually do a great deal of extraneous consumption. I travel slightly less than average, and like most of my activities, my travel is clustered in short bursts rather than routine commutes which could be modified to include public transport or ride sharing. A personal electric vehicle could conceivably cut this down a little, at great cost, but not nearly enough to get my footprint to where it needs to be. I don’t do a great deal of shopping, so cutting my consumption is difficult. Once again, it all comes back to my medical consumption. As long as that number doesn’t budge, and I have no reason to believe that it will, my carbon footprint will continue to be unconscionably large.
There are, of course, ways to play around with the numbers; for example, capping the (absurd) list price of my medications according to what I would pay if I moved back to Australia and got my care through the NHS (for the record: a difference of a factor of twenty), or shifting the cost from the “pharmaceuticals” section to the “insurance” section, and only tallying up to the out of pocket maximum. While these might be, within a reasonable stretch, technically accurate, I feel that they miss the point. Also, even by the most aggressively distorted numbers, my carbon footprint is still an order of magnitude larger than it needs to be. This would still be true even if I completely eliminated home and travel emissions, perhaps by buying a bundle package from Tesla at the expense of several tens of thousands of dollars.
The data is unequivocal. I cannot save the world alone. I rely on society to get me the medical supplies I require to stay alive on a daily basis, and this dependence massively amplifies my comparatively small contribution to environmental destruction. I feel distress about this state of affairs, but there is very little I can personally do to change it, unless I feel like dying, which I don’t, particularly.
This is why I feel disproportionately distressed that the US federal government has indicated that it does not intend to comply with the Paris Climate Agreement; my only recourse for my personal impact is a systematic solution. I suppose it is fortunate, then, that I am not the only one trying to save the world. Other countries are scrambling to pick up America’s slack, and individuals and companies are stepping up to do their part. This is arguably a best case scenario for those who seek to promote climate responsibility in this new era of tribalist politics.