It’s Getting Hot In Here

Editor’s note: This is part 3 (of 5) of the serialized introduction to Break Through: From the Death of Environmentalist to the Politics of Possibility, Ted Nordhaus and Michael Shellenberger’s latest book.

Here are the other sections of the Introduction: [Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3 [Part 4] [Part 5]

“From the Nightmare to the Dream” – Introduction to Break Through: From the Death of Environmentalism to the Politics of Possibility (Part 3 of 5)

4.

Before we wrote the essay “The Death of Environmentalism,” the two of us had spent all of our professional careers, about thirty years between us, working for the country’s largest environmental organizations and foundations, as well as many smaller grassroots ones. Like most of our colleagues, we tended to see global warming as a problem of pollution, whose solution would be found in pollution limits.

In 2003 we started to break away from the pollution and regulation framework. With a small group of others we created a proposal for a new Apollo project. We proposed a major investment in clean-energy jobs, research and development, infrastructure, and transit, with the goal of achieving energy independence. The political thinking was that this agenda would win over blue-collar and swing voters and Reagan Democrats in the presidential battleground states of the Midwest, and excite the high-tech creative class at the same time. And by putting serious public investment on the table—$300 billion over ten years—we hoped we could break through the logjam that had divided business, labor, and environmental groups for years.

But more than any short-term political calculation, Apollo, we hoped, would be the vehicle for telling a powerful new story about American greatness, invention, and moral purpose.

After we created the Apollo proposal, we did what new political coalitions on the left tend to do: round up endorsements from other groups. And while we succeeded in getting endorsements and letters of support for Apollo’s principles from businesses, unions, and most of the large national environmental groups, we were baffled, and then angered, by what happened next.

Environmental lobbyists told us that while they supported Apollo’s vision, they would do nothing to support it in concrete ways, either in Congress or during the 2004 elections. Those of us who had created Apollo had made the decision to focus on jobs and energy independence, because they were far higher priorities among voters than stopping global warming. In particular, we discovered that investment in clean-energy jobs, to get free of oil, was more popular with voters than talk of global warming, clean air, and regulation. But environmental leaders thought our nonenvironmental and nonregulatory focus was a vice, not a virtue.

Fearing that it would distract Democrats’ attention away from stopping the George W. Bush administration’s energy bill, which included billions in new subsidies for coal and oil, environmental leaders eventually asked us to keep Apollo legislation from being considered by Congress. Still the good soldiers, we did as we were asked, and Apollo was, briefly, withdrawn. But it hardly mattered: the Bush energy bill passed anyway.

5.

Frustrated with the environmental lobby’s policy literalism, and annoyed by the uninspired, small-bore, complaint-based agenda of Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry, we set out in the summer of 2004 to write an essay about the politics of global warming.

We started by interviewing the environmental leaders and funders who determine global warming strategy in the United States. By the time we finished, we were convinced that the environmental approach was inadequate, at the policy and the political levels, to deal with the monumental nature of the crisis. We concluded that the problem wasn’t with environmental leaders so much as with their conceptual models, policy frameworks, and institutions.

The intensity of the reaction to our essay surprised, delighted, and occasionally frightened us. Many imagined that we had claimed environmentalism was dead. The response from the most literal-minded was that environmentalism couldn’t be dead because they themselves were (a) environmentalists and (b) alive. Others didn’t understand how we could be so concerned with global warming and not be environmentalists, implying that such a position was a contradiction in terms.

Happily, many people read the essay and, whether they agreed or disagreed, considered our thesis that “modern environmentalism, with all of its unexamined assumptions, outdated concepts and exhausted strategies, must die so that something new can live.” Our intention was, in part, to question whether the category of “the environment” made sense any longer. If “the environment” includes humans, then everything is environmental and the concept has little use other than being a poor synonym for “everything.” If it excludes humans, then it is scientifically specious, not to mention politically suicidal.

In the end, the most gratifying aspect of the experience was being told by environmentalists and nonenvironmentalists alike that the essay had had a powerful impact on their thinking and their work. Some told us that they read and discussed the essay in small groups of friends and colleagues. Local environmental leaders told us that they had become more focused on creating a new kind of development than on “protecting the environment.”

Today, a new Apollo-like proposal for energy independence seems to appear every few months, including from the campaigns of presidential candidates. The story of America as an innovative nation, the increasing importance of high-tech research and development, and the role of strategic public investment have all emerged as key talking points for anyone concerned about global warming or energy independence. And billions of dollars in new investments are pouring into the sector, and even major players in the old energy economy see the opportunity and are positioning themselves to take advantage of it. All of these are the makings of a new dream, and a new story, about America and the world.

That’s the end of Part 3. 

Here are the other sections of the Introduction: [Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3 [Part 4] [Part 5]