I’m a lawyer with a past. I’ve worked as in-house counsel for Nortel Networks (I didn’t do it), and SNC-Lavalin (I don’t want to talk about it), and the Canadian Air Transport Security Authority (reflect on that fact before you board your next flight).
Maybe most notably, I served as lead author of the City of Victoria’s “Boulevard Gardening Guidelines,” on a volunteer basis — the best legal-type thing I’ve ever done, bar none.
On Sept. 27, I made a sign shouting “ENOUGH!” in raging black letters, and joined the downtown Victoria climate strike. Two other protesters, little Amelia and her mom, helped me hold my sign a little higher. Thousands gathered and raised their voices.
Many people brought their own signs: “Make the World Greta Again!,” “There is No Planet B!,” “Compost the 1 per cent,” “I want a hot boyfriend, not a hot planet!”
A young girl, too young to be troubled by such things, held up a sheet of lined paper with a message in blue ink: “Stop Breeding.” As if in answer, a young man held a sign: “This is a Sign.”
A big unanswered question: What should people do in response to the climate crisis? Declare a war on climate change? Al Gore says so: “The Climate Crisis Is the Battle of Our Time, and We Can Win.”
Environmentalist Lester Brown said it years ago: “We need climate action on the scope of a WWII mobilization.”
I hear these voices and respect them. I imagine that raising the war metaphor might resonate with some people.
But beating the drums of war does not move me. The way I see it, humanity has been fighting the Third World War for 70-plus years. First came bombs aimed primarily at each other, with the planet as collateral damage. And when that wasn’t bad enough, many people turned to levelling landscapes with industrial tools and chemical weapons. Did you know that just after the Second World War, certain men reckoned it was a good idea to drop nuclear bombs on so-called uninhabited Pacific islands?
To my mind, that was the day man declared war against the world (and it was all men, or pretty close). From there, the carnage continued.
Does anyone really think, deep down, that we can drop carbon bomb after carbon bomb, burn fossil fuels as long as they last, and no one, no human beings, no every-other-beings, will see any sort of serious consequence?
Here’s the message that resonates with me. Whether or not we declare war on climate change, maybe we can declare peace on Earth. Maybe we can begin to lay down just a few of the weapons we raise against the planet in our day-to-day lives.
Here’s an easy one. Start by lowering just one weapon. Lower your leaf blower. Stow away what I dare say is an emblem of our society’s stupidity.
Next, let’s get really crazy. Disarm that gas-powered lawn mower. From the planet’s point of view, each mower is part of an attack-force of tiny tanks, chewing up everything in their path. And there it is again: CO2 barfing out the butt end.
A sane society would be rationing fossil fuels by now. If we really want to be serious about a war metaphor, start there. A sane society would be doing something, anything, to counter the climate crisis.
But here’s what energizes and enrages me the most. Opportunities to do nothing go to waste. Instead of mowing and blowing your lawn next Saturday, how about putting your feet up?
I beg you to literally do nothing about climate change next Saturday, and that would be a frack-of-a-lot-better than what you usually do.
If you’re feeling bored without your gas-powered leaf blower and lawn mower, and you don’t know what to do instead, how about a beer? How about a picnic? How about a beer at a picnic?
Spread a blanket and relax in your new front-yard meadow! Yes, call it a meadow! Welcome the wildflowers back in. If your neighbours look at you sideways, tell them to get a life. Young people are demanding a life, and the rest of us owe it to them.
I’ve worked hard for big gas-powered corporations. Now, I try to work less and live small. It’s not too late to reach for redemption. So I reach for a picket sign and hit the street. I reach for seed and spade, and plant flowers and food along the boulevard.
Is it too much to ask my neighbours to do something in the way of nothing at all? Sit back and let dust gather on your leaf blower and lawn mower? Start by moving from the wrong thing to nothing, maybe work our way up to something from there?
Mike Large is a local lawyer and boulevard gardener.
