Climate Tipping Points

There are a number of slow motion train wrecks happening around the world at the moment. Considering them could make us depressed, so it is just as well I still have the optimistic words of Steven Pinker ringing in my ears, lauding the wonderful march of human progress. That march will undoubtedly mean that many of the trains won’t crash in the end. But what if one that does is so great that humanity itself is threatened?

I like the expression of a slow motion train wreck. It describes a situation with some key characteristics. Above all there is uncertainty. There is a wide range of outcomes, some of which could be horrific, but the path towards the outcomes is unclear. While it is possible to define actions that would mitigate the risk, these are not obvious and some may have downsides, and sometimes it is not clear who can initiate such actions and which particular actions would be most beneficial. We are all on the train, and have a degree of agency, but our fellow passengers have as much responsibility as us and we are not in the driving seat.

One great example of a slow motion train wreck is Brexit. Years ago, when Cameron first mooted a referendum, disaster seemed highly unlikely, but somehow one event led to another and the train drivers missed chances to reset course. Even now, there is a sense that disaster will be averted, and it is not even obvious what any disaster would look like, or even if all the outcomes are all that bad. All UK citizens, even all EU ones, have some agency, but there is no single obvious path to avert the crash.

Look around and you find many other slow motion train crash situations. The possible failure of antibiotics is one. Untrammelled capitalism may be one. The Chinese political model may be one. The unravelling of the post cold war nuclear treaties is one. Others are not so sure, but could develop. Examples might be the gender imbalances in India and China, or abuse of a dominant social media channel.

But the biggest slow motion human train wreck is surely climate change. Pinker himself acknowledges it. He shows evidence of human progress, but argues that derailment is possible, and he dwells on nuclear war and climate change as possible culprits.

Climate change has all the classic elements of a slow motion train wreck. Uncertainty is the main one. Scientists simply do not know what might happen, because too many factors overlap and interact. Think about it. In November we had a storm that was supposed to give one inch of snow but sent down ten and caused chaos, but last weekend the opposite occurred, making the mayor look a fool when he closed schools. If something as simple has that has such uncertainty, then the whole climate for the whole planet has much more. If the outcomes are anywhere near the extreme end, it won’t just be the mayor looking dumb, it will be all of us.

Climate change has all the other required elements. It is happening in slow motion. It seems the solutions are within our grasp, but they are not all that easy to implement, and some actors have motives that complicate action. We are all agents, but our individual power is frustratingly small. Nobody knows when it might be too late, and even what being too late might imply.

The scientists do their best to help the discussion, but they are betrayed by their own disciplines. Everything is uncertain, so they talk in riddles and possibilities and in ways that are too easy to argue against. Many environmentalists are even less helpful, arguing for unlikely changes that voluntarily undue many of the gains humanity has made. This can be naïve and arrogant at the same time, and exposes them to ridicule and charges of hypocrisy whenever any of them get in a car or a plane.

Indeed, a recent book by David Wallace-Wells makes a very interesting point about individual action, arguing that it is a distraction. We feel good when we recycle, or bicycle, but the reality is that no individual action can have more than a trivial impact, and focusing on that gets in the way of identifying and lobbying for the actions that really could reroute the runaway train.

The concept of tipping points has long been part of the debate about climate change. They have become a way for scientists to try to describe secondary effects that could be unlocked and become serious.

But an article in the Economist this week set me thinking about climate tipping points in another way. As we are sitting in our train, what would make a step change in actions? What tipping point could change the climate of action?

Action happens because decision makers want it to happen. Scientists do a lot of good things away from the public eye, but for climate change they can do little more than sound the alarm. Then, action can come about because of politicians, businesses or communities, all of which can be influenced by lobbying groups. And tipping point triggers can come from knowledge, moral choices or market changes.

All of the factors have influenced all of the groups for several years, but the actions have lagged behind the needs. This is normal in slow motion train wrecks, because actions often have short-term costs and create losers, and because it is possible to be a free loader and rely on the actions of others.

Even in moderate scenarios, it is gradually becoming clear that this is not enough, and that humanity is taking reckless risks. So something is needed to change the game, to tip the scales towards more drastic action.

I have long thought that the most likely such tipping point would be a disaster or series of disasters of such magnitude as to shake decision makers out of their stupor. Suddenly, voters would demand action globally, and politicians would have to respond.

The problem has been that each disaster so far could be attributed only partly to climate change and has only impacted a part of humanity, usually not a very rich part. Perhaps this will change: Miami could flood irreparably, or California fires hit larger population centres.

But the article alerted me to a different kind of tipping point. Perhaps investors will demand that businesses will have to start taking real near-term risks seriously enough to quantify them, insure for them and try to mitigate them. This may be just starting to happen. The Californian power utility essentially became insolvent overnight, when it emerged that their legal liabilities for forest fires would be crippling.

So far these risks have been of the type that businesses have chosen not to investigate, since markets have not demanded it and any investigation would only unearth the need for costs. But as soon as markets will ask the question, a measurement industry will spring up and everyone will have to respond.

That will give more momentum to renewables, and, more important, business and its lobbyists will demand government action to reduce the worst risks. And business pays government, so government will respond. There will be laggards, like Mr. Trump’s friends in the coal industry, but they will become drowned out by the mainstream.

That is my new hope for a tipping point, and I think it might be what spurs the step change in action that we need. Whether it will be enough is another matter. I have faith in human ingenuity that it probably will be. But the sooner we reach the tipping point, the better the odds of averting the worst outcomes.