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We live in an age of dystopias on demand. Whether it’s Black Mirror, The Hunger Games or The Handmaid’s Tale, there is no limit to satiating our desires for dark, apocalyptic visions of the future. Unfortunately the scariest experience does not involve the world of the imaginary; it just requires reading the latest climate science.

In one such piece in July 2017, New York Magazine managed to pull together all the possible worst-case climate scenarios in a longread called “The Uninhabitable Earth.” Through interviews with climate scientists, it painted a world of bacterial plagues escaping from melting ice, devastating droughts and floods so frequent they are just called “weather,” and biblical-like tableaus of entire nations on the move. The piece is bleaker than the darkest of sci-fi, because there is no way of dismissing it as fiction.

Facing our fears of climate crisis is one of the biggest challenges we face as activists. Not a week goes by without warnings of an “ice apocalypse” or a “point of no return.” We are bombarded with bleak visions of the future. And it’s a challenge that we continue to struggle with — one we have mainly filled with demands for action. For a long time, the answer was to provide easy actions that people could take so they could feel empowered. But it was soon evident that no amount of energy-saving lightbulbs was going to halt the capitalist juggernaut. Now the answer, from the left at least, is that we must confront capitalism to overcome climate change. Yet this can hardly be described as an easy win, or likely to allay our fears of a dangerous future.

In the anxious void, we have often not engaged or challenged the visions of the future described by climate scientists or environmentalists. And I don’t mean questioning the science, but assessing their expectations of humanity’s response to those climate impacts. Do they accurately describe how people behave in the face of disaster? Do they countenance the idea that people might respond in a way that doesn’t fit the model of the dystopian dog-eat-dog world? Is it possible that their expectations actually serve the purpose of those determined to repress alternative futures?

Apocalyptic Story-Telling

I started wondering about this after studying military and corporate strategies for dealing with climate change impacts whose apocalyptic language often mirrors that of the New York Magazine piece. In 2007, the Pentagon produced its report, Age of Consequences, that looked at varying scenarios for climate change based on different temperature increases. Its mid-level scenario predicted that nations around the world would be “overwhelmed by the scale of change and pernicious challenges, such as pandemic disease.” It also warned that “armed conflict between nations over resources, such as the Nile and its tributaries, is likely and nuclear war is possible. The social consequences range from increased religious fervor to outright chaos.” A year later, the oil giant Shell released a report, Scramble and Blueprint, that forecast a similar Malthusian scramble for resources.

What is striking about all these forecasts of the future is the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that they provoke. This is partly a result of the fear-based narratives that, as behavioral science research has shown, tend to engender hopelessness. But it’s also a result of completely ignoring the political structures in which climate change impacts occur, as well as the potential for people to remake those systems.

Rather like a Hollywood disaster movie, such scenarios treat climate change as an all-encompassing dark threat on the horizon that threatens us all, where no one is culpable for what happens next and where no one can truly prepare for and change its impacts. Their sketches of a future in which millions starve from increased temperatures, for example, ignore the reality that the present highly concentrated global system of food production and distribution generates more than enough to eat, yet still leaves 815 million people hungry tonight. They similarly ignore how a radical restructuring of our global food regime could provide a much more resilient and effective system for producing and fairly distributing the necessities of life during a time of escalating climate instability.

In short, the climate futures they describe obscure the fact that the impact of climate change will ultimately not be determined by levels of CO2, but by structures of power. In other words, the exact impact of a climate disaster will depend on political decisions, economic wealth and social systems.

Syria: A Climate War?

Syria’s civil war today is a salutary example of the dangers of envisioning climate futures without consideration of power. In recent years, it has become highly fashionable to describe Syria as a “climate war” and a sign of the conflicts we might expect. The narrative is that extreme drought in the mid-2000s, caused by climate change, forced the migration of farmers, herders and other rural dwellers to the major cities of Damascus and Homs, putting massive pressure on these cities’ infrastructure and creating competition for jobs. This then laid the seeds for unrest, instability and ultimately civil war. This story — with varying degrees of nuance — was widely adopted from the US military to Friends of the Earth.

Besides the fact that there is very little evidence to back up the hypothesis, many mainstream accounts conveniently ignore factors such as the role of the Syrian government’s neoliberal economic policies in creating social divisions. But the biggest problem is that this explanation diverts attention away from how Assad chose to respond to that unrest, which of course was massive repression of initially peaceful protests that led many groups to turn to violence.

Climate change will undoubtedly have a destabilizing influence on food production, water availability and human livelihoods, but whether any of this transforms into conflict will depend on how political structures respond. An extensive recent study of eleven conflicts in the Mediterranean, Middle East and Sahel confirmed this, showing that rather than climate change, it was the way that governments responded both politically and economically to social and environmental crises, and the lack of democratic participation, that generated conflict.

In the case of Syria, people fleeing the country in the wake of the civil war faced new levels of vulnerability and suffering as refugees. And again, it wasn’t the weather but the European Union’s hostile border regime that caused the worst impacts. With almost no safe legal routes to Europe, desperate refugees were forced to risk life and limb to migrate. This has led to a horrific death toll, with European policymakers effectively agreeing to turn the Mediterranean into a graveyard to supposedly discourage others. Given that migration is likely to be a critical form of adaptation in the future, the failure by the world’s richest countries to deal justly with existing refugees or even to abide by international human rights laws, is a disturbing precedent.

Meanwhile, ten countries outside of the European Union, accounting for less than 2.5 percent of world GDP, have taken in more than half of the world’s refugees, showing that economic resources are not the fundamental determination of social support and solidarity.

Security for Whom?

Of course a storytelling that removes politics from the picture serves a purpose, as it strengthens the position of those in power and denies our collective agency to remake the world in a different image. The Pentagon and EU security strategies, developed from these doomsday scenarios, have deemed climate change a “threat multiplier” that will exacerbate conflicts, terrorism and instability. Through the lens of national security, they never question the unjust structuring of power relations that led to the climate crisis. Instead, their plans are about how to protect this unjust order from the instability it has created.

The storytelling in their war-gaming scenarios turns the victims into an amorphous mass, normally quiescent but at the time of climate change potentially restive and a threat. The victims of climate change become “threats” — causes of likely instability and conflict or mass migrations that could overwhelm the borders of the world’s richest countries. This further compounds the profound injustice at the heart of climate change that those who contributed the least to causing the crisis will suffer the most. Now, with a “security” response to climate change, the victims face an additional injustice, treated now as threats, to be managed, controlled or eliminated. This tendency looks set to consolidate an existing disturbing global trend in which governments already “treat protest as at best an inconvenience to be controlled or discouraged, and at worst a threat to be extinguished.”

By contrast, a storytelling that did consider power relations would turn very quickly to the existing structural causes of climate change. It would show how the United States’ vast imperial war machine makes it the world’s single largest organizational user of petroleum, and how just 90 corporations are responsible for two-thirds of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. It would articulate how a just response to climate change would be impossible without tackling these underlying causes. Instead, by predicting scarcity and promising security at a time of chaos, corporate power remains unchallenged and the world’s bloated militaries can win even more funding to secure an unjust world order.

It should be no surprise to anyone that military-led climate security strategies are the only vestige of climate policy that has survived under the Trump regime. Trump is merely continuing a dominant dynamic of US policy that has emphasized control of climate change impacts rather than undertaking real solutions based on ambitious, radical reductions of greenhouse gases.