Time for a Nap



An Open Letter to Saskatchewan

Dear Fellow Saskatchewan Citizens:

I am an environmental activist. If you’ve read the province’s throne speech, you will know me as part of the uneducated, province-hating collective of “they.”  I am one who believes in “misguided dogma that has no basis in reality” and does not “Stand…Up for Saskatchewan.”  This is how Brad Wall sees me and anyone else who voices concern about climate change and suggests the province needs to shift away from a fossil fuel economy. In a recent speech to the Petroleum Club in Calgary, he disclosed his fears that “we” (meaning he and the oil industry) “haven’t been winning many battles lately,” and that “we’re in danger of losing more battles if we’re not vigilant.” Battles? Winning? Vigilant?  Is Brad Wall talking about a foreign enemy hell-bent on killing us all? When did this become a war in which the premier vocally and ideologically pits himself against citizens of the province? This language and what lies behind it, “we”, “they,” “winning,” “battles”…this helps no one. Why is he a “we” with the Explorers and Producers Association of Canada and not also with people who care about the environment? This is not how a leader addresses constituents’ legitimate interests, and it is an infantile approach to solving a real problem.

I want you to know, I understand that nothing is black and white. I know people who work (or have worked) in the oil industry. I care about these people. Despite how Brad Wall would characterize me, I am not a heartless monster who sits at home counting the money I’ve raked in over the years as an environmental activist, chortling over how everyone in the oil industry will soon be out of business. This is not me, and it’s not anyone I know who is advocating for a shift to renewable energy.

Please, I ask you, hear what I am saying: I am not against you. I know that people’s jobs mean something to them, that they represent not just livelihood but identity. I did not think it was karma that Fort Mac burned. I recognize that there is a difference between those who are making a living in the oil industry and those who are becoming so rich in it that they need to see us silenced.

We are working toward a common future. I just don’t know what that future looks like when our own premier treats concerned citizens as enemies. When he spends time and energy trying to figure out how to spin the benefits of fossil fuel to us so he can start “winning.” When he cares more about saving a dying industry than supporting people who want environmental justice and employment that is sustainable.

Anthropogenic climate change is not a hoax. If you believe it is, I don’t know what I can say to you on this issue. If you have reached this point in history and believe that climate change is someone’s idea of a big joke, I sincerely will not be able to come up with anything convincing beyond the existing immeasurable body of data supporting it. This is not the discussion we can have today.

If you do believe that climate change is real but don’t know where that leaves you, well…welcome to the club. The future will be uncertain. The future will probably be difficult and confusing. For all of us. There will be unemployment and shifting identities.  There will be tears and anger and a whole mess of trying things in a new way. There will be the temptation to lash out against those who are in it alongside us.

But environmental activists aren’t going anywhere. We will continue to be concerned about climate change, fracking chemicals, and water contamination. We will continue to care about Indigenous land claims and social justice. Brad Wall can characterize us as the enemy, but if you listen, we are talking about clean air, safe water, justice, and a livable planet, which are hardly objectionable goals.

If you believe that alternative energy sources are not feasible, please know that I understand we have things to learn. Technology can be buggy, but that does not mean we give up on it, especially when the stakes are high. We stick with it, knowing that we need to improve it. Not knowing all the answers does not mean we can stop asking questions, or that the technology leads us on any more of an unrealistic path than the one we’re on.

I can hear it now. Some of you are thinking wait, don’t you use a computer? Don’t you drive a car and eat imported food? The answers to all these questions is yes. I am complicit in the oil culture. I will face incredible changes in the future when (not if) energy is rationed or becomes less available. I will know when I see images of the tar sands that I am a part of what allowed that to happen. But pointing out that I am not perfect does nothing to solve the problem. It does not make oil extraction any less toxic, the air any cleaner, nor scientific facts about climate change any less valid.

Whether right now you are cheering me on or damning me, we have reached the end of it. What IT is, I don’t know. The possibility for a clean environment in the future? The fossil fuel industry? Is it the end of us? I don’t know. What I do know is that the current situation is unsustainable, and rather than having a premier who has the guts to lead us through the upcoming uncertainty, we have one who takes every opportunity to undermine anyone trying to meet the real challenge. He is, as are all the people who benefit politically or financially from the fossil fuel industry, trying to pit us against one another, to make us believe that we do not have that common future. Please, let us figure this out somehow together, with or in spite of Brad Wall.

More S*@t Anti-Environmentalists Say


I Cannot Let It Go…


Last night, I was tweeting about Harambe when a squawking bird dumped a healthy load of quasi-digested something in my hair. The bird’s message was not lost on me; my avian friend reminded me that not unlike its offering, Harambe’s death has been messy and  uncomfortable. The latter event is also incredibly sad, while nothing lingers today of the former other than a funny memory.

For those of you who have not yet heard of Harambe…where have you been?!  Pick up a newspaper!  Seriously, though, on Saturday, a 4-year-old boy was hanging out near the gorilla enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo and fell in. According to video footage, Harambe dragged the boy through the water, touched him, people yelled, the gorilla seemed confused…There seem to be as many versions of what happened as there are people reporting the story. Everyone agrees on how the story ended, though; after determining they had no choice, the zoo authorized Harambe’s (fatal) shooting.

The gorilla’s death has lit up social media, and things have not been pretty. Much as with last year’s outcry following the shooting of Cecil the lion, people are out for human blood. And while I, usually the freak outsider with my animal rights views, bask temporarily in having my outrage at the mistreatment of animals mirrored by those around me, such basking is indeed only temporary. Very quickly, my feelings of solidarity with many people dissipate as quickly as they type misogynist/hateful comments.  Not only is the child’s mother a negligent dumb bitch (I cringe as I write), her right “to breed,” her character, her life, are all open to vile and scary criticism. Petitions are even circulating about calling for a child protection investigation. Let’s dial it back a bit, people, okay? I think we need more compassion in this world, not less.

Others direct their ire at the zoo. Why are there not better barriers surrounding the enclosures? Why not tranquilize Harambe instead of kill him? Still others blame Harambe himself, pointing out that we would all choose to kill someone harming our child. This kind of rhetoric is as unpalatable as it is lame. Experts, both real and armchair, interpret the video in various ways: Harambe was acting erratically, or protectively, or in confusion, or helpfully. Jack Hanna this, Frans de Waal that.

But here’s the thing. I do not want to debate these things. I do not know whether the child’s mother is incredibly attentive or not. I do not know whether Harambe was two seconds away from smashing this child’s cranium. I do not know whether the zookeepers loved him or not. I do not know whether the Cincinnati Zoo is now motivated to create the best enclosures and the best barriers in the world (I’ve been listening to Donald Trump speak too much lately).  But really? I believe all these things miss the bigger point, which is that Harambe’s death was so desperately, gut-wrenchingly preventable.

Who could have predicted that accidents involving people and animals would occur when humans trap massive animals in cities? Animals with claws, micro-second reflexes, individual desires, and a thwarted instinct to be free? Animals who might in nature walk dozens of miles a day? Animals whose reality is being stared at, yelled to, teased, knuckles knocking glass, tiny human prey bouncing just on the other side of bars…What do we expect? Can accidents really be called accidents when they are so inevitable?

More important to me than the ability of humans to stay alive during their visit to the zoo, however, is the facilities’ inherent anthropocentrism. Can we please, please just stop pretending that zoos are anything but a one-way street in which humans gain fleeting entertainment and animals lose everything?  We have the option of choosing to go to the zoo (or, often as whimsically, a movie, or a restaurant) on the weekend; the animals have the choice of how many times to follow the zoochotic trail they have beaten into their enclosure after a lifetime of captivity. Yes, some might say, but zoos keep animals alive – what would happen if we closed all the zoos?! I prefer to take the long view of exactly the lifespan of each animal currently in a zoo. Let these ones live out their lives (which will be short if they are earmarked for culling or killed for harming a human), and that is it. It is over. What life is it for future generations of a species if it is to live in a glass cage? Could there possibly be a deeper follow-up insult to Harambe than that the Cincinnati Zoo has announced its possession of his sperm, so that his genetic line may continue?

Zoos cannot help but ingrain in humans further understanding that we are the dominant species, that everything is to be enjoyed and used by us with no concern for consequence. We delight in seeing animals who would easily elude us or sink their teeth into our collective jugular if we came face-to-face in the wild. We get to choose how much time we spend observing a particular cage; they are there all day. We get to decide how to frame this animal in text and in discourse: is it a master predator? A gentle, social creature? We even decide whether the animal is intelligent, based on our own parameters. Children learn that it does not matter how far from its natural home an animal is, how wrong the climate may be for it, how much it would eschew human contact if given the choice, it is okay to keep it on display for our pleasure, because we are people and they are not.

I can hear the counter-points being composed; I have heard them already.  But…conservation…education…seeing is caring…zoos love the animals…  I promise you that I have thought of all of these things. I know that many zoos give a piece to conservation efforts.  I understand that maybe some people are transformed by a zoo visit. Things are not black and white to me; I dwell in the grey. But I do not care about what the experience is like for humans.  Despite what the existence of zoos suggests, I do not think that I have some inborn, human right to see any animal regardless of what it must endure for me to see it. I do not have the right to see an animal if to do so is to have it endure a lifetime of discomfort. I care about the animals, and I care about what zoos tell us about our supremacy in an ongoing way. Nothing about a zoo’s mission, even the best of them, justifies its foundational, ongoing captivity of animals. If zoos took in only animals that had no chance of living in the wild and any breeding would be with the full and unequivocal goal of controlled release to the wild, this conversation might be different.  Unfortunately, the word “conservation,” for a zoo, can mean the preservation of a particular animal’s life and the continuation of a species in captivity with no plan for release.

We need to learn from Harambe’s death and undergo a societal shift on zoos. We must ask ourselves how this situation, where our western ideology dictates that animals exist for whatever we desire, is okay. We must ask ourselves who is served by a zoo, and at what price. We need for Harambe’s death to have meant something, or else we will be sending the bird plop message that his life meant nothing.

A Fun Place to Go on a Saturday

harambe 2


S*@t Ant-Environmentalists Say

It doesn’t matter what environmentalists do; there will always be opportunities to discredit them.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that people are concerned about whether I have a job and what I do in my free time; it shows they care, and we can use more compassion in this world.  I just worry that the messages from anti-environmentalists are not always on point, you know?  As a group, you’ve got to get your stories straight and make sure your messages are consistent.  TWW is going to run a series that will hopefully help me help you know why we (environmentalists) can be a bit confused by your arguments.  You’re welcome.



Typical “The Man.”  First we are all uneducated and unbathed and that angers you, but then when we are tearing up Wall Street and littering the sidewalk with diamonds, you are still bitter.  You’ve got to decide who you think we are.

The Nuance of Microaggression



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