Categories
Biking Climate change Parenting

Motherload, a movie about people and cargo bikes

I saw the documentary “Motherload” in September and meant to write a review.  I wish I had done it fresh, but I keep thinking about it, so better late than never.

Motherload connected with me on an emotional level.  I teared up as it captured on film and described feelings and moments I’ve had biking with my kids that I’ve never heard anyone articulate.  People know I’m the crazy guy on the bike with his kids; this film told my story, our story.  In this post I’ll remark on a few parts that stuck with me.  Here’s the trailer:

Categories
Books Climate change

The Overstory: “You have been spared from death to do a most important thing”

I recently read and enjoyed The Overstory, by Richard Powers. I often miss connections in books & movies that are obvious to others; here I wrestle with one particular line near the end that I noticed is a callback to an earlier chapter.

This post contains spoilers.  If you haven’t read the book, you’re better off reading it than this post.

Categories
Climate change Politics ruminations

Imagine a world without oil and gas

It’s stuck with me since I saw it in the Myrtle Beach airport in July. A young man wore a drawstring backpack printed with the slogan “imagine a world without oil and gas.” Under that it said, “IOGA WV”.

I first read this phrase the way I would if I had uttered it: as an aspirational call to imagine a world without oil and gas. Something like AOC’s “Message from the Future” or the Transition Handbook, whose featured blurb notes that “most of us avoid thinking about what happens when oil runs out (or becomes prohibitively expensive)” [more on this later].

When a search for “IOGA WV” revealed it to be the Independent Oil and Gas Association of West Virginia, I realized the phrase was meant differently. There aren’t many hits when you Google that sentence, but they mostly come from oil & gas interests. The phrase on the backpack is meant not as a serious call but as a statement of ridicule: life is unimaginable without oil and gas.

The phrase captured my imagination, in part because I’m amused by its Janus word nature: its two meanings are opposites. But also because in the way I first read it, it’s a succinct, elegant clarion call to dream as we must. In the effort to move beyond fossil fuels and preserve a habitable planet, it’s likely that our imagination, not technology, will be the limiting factor.

Categories
Climate change ruminations

A Car-Free Yellowstone

Last week I had the pleasure of visiting Yellowstone National Park.  We drove a lot outside the park, unavoidably.  From the airport in Bozeman to the town of West Yellowstone, and to the park entrance every day.  We also drove many miles daily in the park.  There, we might be able to do better for our visitors (and it is our park) and the park itself.

When we talk about public transit locally, a perennial question is of ridership volume: when do we cross the tipping point where the transit service becomes financially viable and practical for users, even preferential to riding in a car?  Yellowstone may be there.  Its crowds and traffic are the cost of its success, but a bus system could mitigate these, opening the park to more people while preserving its navigability.  And a car-free Yellowstone would be better for the flora and fauna as well.

Categories
Climate change Politics

Open letter to Ann Arbor city council ahead of climate funding vote

Tonight, March 4th 2019, Ann Arbor City Council will be discussing a resolution sponsored by Councilmember Jane Lumm to divert funding away from fighting climate change.  The city had planned to use almost $1 million/year to fund its Climate Action Plan.

Here’s what I wrote to my council members (Ali Ramlawi and Chip Smith) as well as Mayor Taylor and the rest of council.

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Dear Ali, Chip, and other councilmembers –

I hope this finds you well.

I’ll be candid with you: some days, I’m terrified of climate change. In the abstract, I’m worried about the most vulnerable, say, the many millions in Bangladesh who will flee their homes by 2050 as the seas rise. But what terrifies me, what I think about when I pace with my youngest son in the middle of the night, is what could happen here in Ann Arbor, to my family.

Science is clear: if we don’t make radical changes, at all levels, climate change will destabilize the planet. Ann Arbor may be one of the last places to be affected, but in a worst-case scenario, a collapse of global civilization would spare no one. What happens if food and goods stop arriving? If power goes down, if medical supplies are gone, if we descend into dystopia? Our society is too complex to be unwound back to pre-industrial times.

But I try not to dwell on that possibility. Both because it’s unproductive – even paralyzing – and because that dystopian future isn’t written yet.

On my more optimistic days, I feel lucky to be alive now, at the time of reckoning. We are privileged to be the ones at the wheel as the bus hurtles toward the cliff. And a low-carbon world doesn’t mean austerity – it could be even more beautiful than what we have now, if we get there on our own terms.

To take the path toward paradise, or even survival, we must act on all levels. We must cut carbon emissions in half by 2030*. Of course, federal and state governments must lead on massive tasks like the switch to renewable energy, and individual actions will add up. But cities play a critical role, too. You are best positioned to lead us toward fulfilling the goals of our Climate Action Plan, and you can pull on levers like housing, zoning, construction code, parking, and more. Climate change touches, and is touched by, everything.

In the scale of what action is needed, tonight’s funding vote – 880k/year? – is just a tiny step. While I ask you to vote tonight to preserve the climate change funding, my real ask is that you dive into the fight for the survival of humanity, of other species, and of our families, in the months and years to come. It may be humanity’s most important decade as we turn the ship of civilization around toward the light. With our values, skills, and resources, Ann Arbor is one of the best-positioned communities in the world to lead the way.

If you’re not sure where to start when it comes to facing the climate crisis – or if you think I’m wrong, and immediate city-level action isn’t crucial to preserving humanity’s future – I’d love to meet for a cup of coffee to discuss. My kids are counting on you. Here’s to a thriving Ann Arbor, and Planet Earth, in 2100!

In hope,

Sam

* – In private: I’m not confident we’ll hit this 2030 target.  But we must try, as even if we miss, it matters how close we come.  As David Wallace-Wells writes to start this article, “It’s not too late.  In fact, it never will be … This a problem that gets worse over time the longer we produce greenhouse gas, and can be made better if we choose to stop. Which means that no matter how hot it gets, no matter how fully climate change transforms the planet and the way we live on it, it will always be the case that the next decade could contain more warming, and more suffering, or less warming and less suffering. Just how much is up to us, and always will be.”