Note: The script below is from the author at Monpollo.org
and other
site (on this second site, the author asks for help translating
the topics to Spanish for DVDs, etc.) The script doesn't correspond
100% to the video and still needs checking over.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Have you ever found yourself saying that as you try to convince
someone (or yourself) to attempt something?
[Angle 1:] But I’m not sure I want to eat the sea slug.
[Angle 2:] C’mon. What’s the worst that could happen?
You don’t really worry that "worst" because you don't
think it's going to happen. And if it does, you’ve always recovered
in the past.
That thinking has worked out okay for us so far. But, with 6
billion people, and technologies that might be able to change
the planet, it’s conceivable that now there may be some “worsts”
that we can’t recover from.
Take global warming, for example. If you listen to the “worst”
predictions, we may be in store for a nasty future: storms, droughts,
floods, epidemics, famine.
But what if you don't think that that "worst" is going
to happen? What if it’s not true, or that we’re not the ones doing
it?
It seems like a pretty important question to figure out, what
with the fate of the human race and all, and that’s probably why
there’s some bitter arguing going on about it right now.
Well, what if I told you I think I’ve found an argument that
makes that whole bitter question of whether it's happening or
not moot. An argument where we don’t need to know whether it’s
true but can still agree on what to do or not to do. An argument
that leads to a conclusion that even the most hardened skeptic,
and the most panicked activist can both agree on.
Sounds impossible, doesn’t it? Seems like it to me, too. That’s
why I’m putting this argument out there, to check if my reasoning
is delusional. Because frankly, no one I’ve shared it with so
far has been able to poke a hole in it, and the conclusion seems
inescapable. And terrifying.
[At the whiteboard]
So here it is. When faced with uncertainty, like we have about
climate change, it’s useful to look at the different possibilities
for the future, and compare them side-by-side.
The first issue is whether human-caused global climate change
is real or not. So we have two possibilities for the future: one
that it turns out to be false, and one that it turns out to be
true.
Here’s a key point: here is where we set aside that whole contentious
question of whether the globe is warming or not and whether we're
the ones doing it, by acknowledging that no one can predict with
absolute certainty what the physical world is going to do. All
reasonable people should be able admit that there’s a chance they
might be wrong. So we all agree that these are both possibilities.
The other thing to look at is what sort of action we take on
climate change. Let’s make column “A” “Yes” for significant action,
and column “B” “No” for little or no significant action. So that
gives us a grid with four boxes that sketch out four basic possibilities
for our future.
What might each these futures look like?
First is the future where we did take action, and climate change
turned out to not be real after all. What would be the consequences
for that? Well, wasted money largely. This is what the skeptics
warn us about. Increased taxation, oppressive regulation, bloated
government.
Now for the purposes of contrast, let’s take things to the extreme.
What’s the worst that could happen? Let’s say there are massive
layoffs caused by draconian regulation, sparking a recession that
spirals into a depression that cascades worldwide, and we end
up with a global economic depression.
How about this box? We didn’t take action, and we didn’t need
to. We made the right decision. Continued prosperity, no big economic
consequences. We’ve still had problems, but climate change wasn’t
one of them.
How about this box? We took action, and it was a good thing,
too, because the doomsayers were right after all. We’ve still
got the costs, but all that money and regulation paid off, because
we counteracted climate change. It still happened, and it’s a
different world, but it’s livable.
Now how about this box? The doomsayers were right, and we didn’t
act. Well, if we grant the extreme here like we did up here, this
is where it gets really ugly: we’ve got economic, political, social,
environmental, public health catastrophes on a global scale.
Sea levels rise 20, 30 feet, entire coastal countries disappear,
hundreds of millions of refugees displaced, pushing in on each
other, causing widespread warfare over scarce resources and ancient
hatreds, entire forests die and burn, massive floods alternate
with killer droughts, the breadbaskets of the U.S. and Russia
turn to dustbowls, leading to catastrophic famines, dreadful epidemics
spread like wildfire, storms like Katrina are the norm, global
economic collapse. We’re talking a world straight out of science
fiction, a world that makes Al Gore look like a sissy Pollyanna
with no guts who sugar-coated the bad news.
Now obviously, I’ve simplified. As a general rule, any diagram
with smiley faces has probably glossed over some complexities.
But if you take pencil and paper yourself, and add back in the
complexities--put in odds here, play with the mild cases on each
side instead of the extreme ones--I think you’ll see that the
following argument still arrives at the same conclusion.
You can think of the argument as row-thinking vs. column thinking.
Our future will fall roughly in one of these four boxes. But
since climate change might or might not be true, we can’t know
for certain which row that box will be in. The laws of physics
alone will determine that, and we just need to wait and see how
it turns out.
What we can know for certain, because we control it, is which
column the future will be in. So it’s a bit like buying a lottery
ticket. We choose ticket A or ticket B, and then wait to see where
in that column the future ends up landing.
If we choose ticket A, we are determining that our future will
be somewhere between the extremes of global economic depression,
or a different, but livable, world. So here’s a scenario where
we made a mistake--we acted when we didn’t need to--and here’s
the cost of that mistake--global economic depression. This is
the risk of choosing ticket A.
That sounds like a pretty scary risk, so let’s see if we have
a better option. If we take ticket B and it turns out to be the
right choice, then hey presto--we’re happy. And if choosing ticket
B turns out to be a mistake, then what is the cost of that mistake?
The End of the World?? Well, the end of the world as we know it.
The planet will still be here, the human race will survive, but
this is a very different, much more hostile place. This is the
risk of taking ticket B, either by deliberate choice, or--and
here's a scary part--by default of inaction while we’re busy trying
to guess which row the future will fall into.
Notice it incorporates the risk up here of economic collapse,
as well as some extra bonus features.
And it gets worse: in the last five years, we’ve learned that
it’s plausible that this might happen abruptly, in a very short
time period: perhaps as short as a decade or two. So we’re not
just talking grandkids here. We’re talking you and me.
Now don’t take my word for it--don’t take anyone’s word for it--do
this exercise yourself. Pay attention the next time you hear something
about climate change and ask yourself: are they talking about
guessing which row, or are they talking about choosing which column?
I think you’ll see that no matter how you construct it, you arrive
at the same inescapable conclusion. When faced with uncertainty
about the future, the only rational choice, the only defensible
choice--really, the only choice--is to take column A, in order
to eliminate this possibility.
Because the risk of not taking action far outweighs the risk
of taking action.
So there’s my silver bullet argument.
Imagine if everyone was familiar with this grid! We could stop
shouting at each other about which row the future might be in,
and instead start deciding which column it will be in. Imagine
a discussion where we've stopped the name calling and changed
it into a level-headed debate about risks and costs. Don’t we
deserve that?
Now imagine a world where we’ve ended up here, and you think
back to today, this moment, when you first saw this grid and understood
what the possibilities were. How tragic would it be to reflect
on how we could have eliminated this as a possibility, but we
didn’t, because we were afraid this might cost too much? How heartbreaking
to realize that you didn’t act, because you were waiting for certainty--an
impossible certainty--about which row was the true one?
Let’s face it: the issue is complex, and our lives are busy.
Who’s got time to try to figure out which expert is right? And
so, here we sit in column B, waiting to see what the future holds.
That is what I find terrifying.
[Back at the desk.]
So what do you, personally, do about it? Well, finally, here’s
some good news. In fact, it sounds too good to be true, because
it's stunningly easy. Ready? What you do is: spread the word.
Because the only way we really get into column A is by changes
in public policy, and those only change when enough people demand
it. So you do what you can to spread an awareness of this argument,
to build up a public demand for column A. You make it a part of
your thinking, your conversations, and you forward this video
on to others, so that it changes their thinking. And they forward
it to others, and they forward it to still others. Imagine that.
In today's age of information, you can change the culture, you
can change public policies, and--remarkably--it starts just with
a few clicks of the mouse, and some conversations.
So I’m asking you, who I’ve never met, but whose fate I’m still
tied to: if you think I’m wrong, please show me where--politely.
And if you can’t find an error in my assumptions or logic, then
help spread the word. Forward this to others, talk about it.
Anything less, and--intentionally or not--we are choosing column
B. And why does that terrify me? Because we only get to play this
game once.
Think it won't happen? Maybe. How lucky do you feel?