
6 minute read
Speaking Up
RUBY LIVINGSTON YEAR 12 SOCIAL JUSTICE PREFECT
I’ve been a part of the School Strike for Climate (SS4C) movement since I was thirteen, which saddens me a little to think about. I have a sister who is thirteen now, and I can’t reconcile her concerns about pocket money and school camp with the urgent fear and sadness that prompted my involvement.
Advertisement
Allowing children a legitimate perspective on the climate crisis is in itself controversial. On one hand, the argument is clear: children are unqualified and lack the knowledge of the world necessary for a nuanced understanding of why climate issues are so difficult to resolve. This perspective is usually expressed as frustration that children are even engaged in political action at such a young age, and in a way, I don’t disagree with this view. I’m sure that I would have much preferred to spend my time watching a “good old-fashioned movie with a friend!” as Donald Trump recommended Greta Thunberg do in 2019.1 But unfortunately the alternative argument was that even at the tender age of thirteen, I felt I couldn’t trust the state institutions which were elected to make decisions with my interests in mind.
Nobody could argue that my judgment was infallible at an age when I genuinely thought My Chemical Romance was the pinnacle of music, but joining the climate movement seemed pretty logical to me. While I was burdened with crushing existential dread about humanity’s impending extinction, politicians were content to continue ignoring the climate threat at best, and actively exacerbating it through policy choices at worst. I couldn’t express this disaffection through a vote – I had no statutory outlet through which I could influence my own future. So, I turned to activism. To mark my dramatic entrance into the political sphere, I joined Queenwood’s environment club, Cleanwood, and began dabbling in vegetarianism.
Over the years, my activism continued. I created the Youth Environmental Activism Hub (YEAH), 2 a climate forum for young people where I share achievable ways to reduce environmental impact and present important climate news in a readable way. I also organise beach clean-ups with my local community on the Northern Beaches. Today as Social Justice Prefect, I use my role to plan fundraisers and direct resources to relevant causes.
Although I try to limit my personal impact on the climate in these ways, I think it’s important to recognise that the majority of blame for the climate crisis rests with large corporations rather than individuals. In fact, the term ‘carbon footprint’ was coined in 2004 by BP, the second largest non-state-owned oil company in the world. 3 The scale of the crisis is now so huge, it cannot be averted through personal action alone, and this is why participating in organised, community action is so crucial for the climate movement’s success. For me, this is the role of SS4C.
I recognise that there is some legitimate criticism of the strikes. In response to the March 25 strike this year, the NSW Education Minister, Sarah Mitchell, told students that a more effective way of making change would be to stay in school and become “informed citizens”.4 While there were perhaps less patronising ways of delivering this message, it highlights a conflict I have personally struggled with in the past.
The climate strikes do not possess the same leverage as a typical strike – unfortunately, no sector of the economy is disrupted by my absence from Geography. In this context, the key mechanism of a school strike appears to be somewhat self-martyring, where the losing stakeholder is the students. The theory goes that in missing valuable education we give real meaning to our action, but this message is clouded by less concerned students who simply see the strikes as an opportunity for a day off school.
As a Year 12 student that has missed large chunks of face-to-face learning, my attendance at school has become more important than ever. Skipping school is not a decision I take lightly at this stage of my education: in short, it’s important to me that the benefit of the strikes definitely outweighs the cost to preparation for my final examinations.
The decision to strike used to be an easy one. However, over the past year I have struggled to remain optimistic about my activism. 2021 provided a slew of disappointing results – even if countries meet the half-hearted targets set at COP26, global temperatures will still rise 2.4 °C above pre-industrial levels by 2100. That’s well above the
1.5 °C touted as the tipping point for widespread ecosystem collapse. 5 My personal tipping point into climate nihilism was when the Federal Court overturned the Class Action for Climate decision, ruling that the Australian government did not have a duty of care to protect young people from climate change.6
This result wasn’t particularly surprising, but seeing it stated so clearly was a destabilising moment. Having been part of the SS4C movement for four years, I began to lose faith in our ability to generate results. I felt completely powerless; like I was seeing the pointlessness of climate activism for the first time. I’m sure I wasn’t alone in wondering whether simply educating myself was a more effective route to a liveable future –but even this is beset with issues.
The career path to climatology recommended by the Australian government is a bachelor’s degree in environmental science, followed by a specialised masters and then a related PhD.7 According to the minimum estimations of when I can complete these qualifications, I will graduate in 2033. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has estimated that by 2030, damage to the climate will be
‘irreversible’8 and the World Bank estimates that an additional 100 million people will be forced into extreme poverty as a result.9 I clearly don’t have time to play the long game. However qualified I become, the world will be beyond salvaging by the time I can put such knowledge to use.
In many ways, focusing on my own education is a very individualistic approach to a problem of unimaginable scale. Anthropogenic climate change is not an isolated event. It is occurring due to the advancement of an ideology which champions a fantasy of unchecked economic growth at all costs, and in the context of an imperialist history of subjugating and ignoring the valuable perspectives of First Nations peoples. Powerful groups within society have a vested interest in pushing narratives which place the blame for climate change on everyday consumers, while the 1% continue to profit from the hyperconsumerist pace at which we are exhausting our last remaining natural resources.
Climate change is a feminist issue. It is a race issue. Perhaps most fundamentally, it is a class issue. We live in a world where
Apple’s market capitalisation is larger than 96% of countries’ GDP.10 Many view Big Tech, with its capacity for innovation and freedom from government bureaucracy, as the answer to the climate crisis. But we cannot rely on multinational conglomerates to prioritise the interests of people they have no duty of care towards. Elon Musk, venerated for accelerating the transition to sustainable vehicles, claimed last year on Twitter that he would sell Tesla stock to solve climateinduced food scarcity. When he was presented with an opensource financial plan by the UN food program director to use $6 billion USD to do so – a mere 2% of his wealth – Musk did not follow through.11
However flawed the democratic apparatus may be, it is our best and last hope for a future. The coronavirus pandemic showed what governments can achieve through international cooperation. The Russo-Ukrainian war is demonstrating that nations can put aside their differences in aid of a greater cause. The function of the state is to make the best decisions for its citizens – if those citizens speak up about the urgency of climate justice, then the state is duty-bound to accommodate them. The government Australians elected in May has the responsibility of ensuring our future survival.
Like millions of other children in Australia, I did not have a vote in the 2022 election that defines my future. But at least through striking, I have a voice. •
1 Deng, B. (2019, December 13). From Chill out and watch a movie, Trump tells Greta Thunberg Retrieved April 28, 2022 from thetimes.co.uk
2 We are @yeah.nb on Instagram for anyone interested!
3 Solnit, R. (2021, August 23). From Big oil coined ‘carbon footprints’ to blame us for their greed. Keep them on the hook. Retrieved April 28, 2022 from theguardian.com
4 White, D. (2022, March 24). Education system ‘failing’ children on climate as students set to strike. Retrieved April 28, 2022, from smh.com. au
5 Masood, E., & Tollefson, J. (2021, November 14). ‘COP26 hasn’t solved the problem’: Scientists react to UN climate deal. Retrieved April 28, 2022, from www.nature.com
6 Slezak, M., & Timms, P. (2022, March 15). Environment minister wins landmark climate change case, overturning a world-first ‘duty of care’ ruling. Retrieved April 28, 2022, from abc. net.au/news
7 Hart, M. (n.d.). How to become a climate scientist | Australian Research Council. Retrieved April 28, 2022, from climateextremes. org.au
8 UN General Assembly. (2019, March 28). Only 11 years left to prevent irreversible damage from climate change, speakers warn during General Assembly high-level meeting Retrieved April 28, 2022, from un.org/press
9 World Bank Group. (2015, November 09). Rapid, climate-informed development needed to keep climate change from pushing more than 100 million people into poverty by 2030 Retrieved April 28, 2022, from worldbank.org
10 Wallach, O. (2021, July 09). The World’s tech giants, compared to the size of economies Retrieved April 28, 2022, visualcapitalist.com
11 Wattles, J. (2021, November 18). UN to Elon Musk: Here’s that $6 billion plan to fight World Hunger. Retrieved April 28, 2022, from edition. cnn.com