
Climate emergencies are a bit like buses. You wait an age for one and then three come along at once. Parliaments in the and passed motions declaring a climate emergency in May. On Monday, .
It isn’t just parliaments sounding the alarm. “This is a climate emergency,” , using the phrase for the first time. Hours earlier, James Bevan of England’s Environment Agency a climate emergency has for flooding, and Vince Cable, the leader of the UK’s Liberal Democrats, said plans to expand Heathrow Airport were wrong given the world’s climate emergency.
They join a cast of high-profile public figures already on the bus, from UK opposition leader to UN secretary general . But how did the language of climate change campaigners jump to the lips of the establishment, and should we welcome its seemingly unstoppable adoption?
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Its origin story isn’t entirely clear, but the first using the phrase appears to date back to comments by Greenpeace in 2001. David Spratt of the Breakthrough think tank tells me his 2008 book, , was key to popularising the phrase in Australia.
Over the past year, however, the floodgates have opened. More than 600 local and national governments have declared climate emergencies since January 2018, and the volume of news stories using the phrase is 12 times greater. February’s expansion of school climate strikes led by Greta Thunberg and protests by Extinction Rebellion also played a role. The Guardian even recently , advising journalists to use the phrase instead of climate change.
Meaningless phrase?
Does this language make a difference? A day after Canada’s climate emergency motion, . Bristol City Council in the UK , yet the city’s mayor . Nothing changed on UK streets after parliament declared one, notes former Labour leader Ed Miliband. “This muted response to an alarm that we ourselves have sounded symbolises the challenge we face,” . Such a disconnect risks rendering the phrase climate emergency meaningless.
Mike Hulme at the University of Cambridge because it implies “time-limited radical” action could end the emergency, when climate change is actually a “new condition of human existence”. Some, Hulme included, also fear the language may engender counterproductive responses.
But Roz Pidcock of communication organisation Climate Outreach says a climate emergency “suggests a response that is very radical in scale and ambition, but not reckless or knee-jerk”, and certainly not license for extreme measures like geoengineering the planet’s climate.
Despite the risk of the phrase being devalued, Rebecca Willis of Lancaster University in the UK tells me it is still useful – and that’s because it is true. Few would argue with that. As Spratt says: “You cannot solve a problem unless you name it for exactly what it is.” Getting politicians to adopt the language will also be critical to holding them to tough policy decisions later, says Doug Parr of Greenpeace.
The widespread adoption of the phrase isn’t a problem. The huge, grave, urgent problem is the lack of action commensurate with such language. And that action is going to include a lot of silently gliding electric buses.