Safe on Dry Land

Many of you have probably heard that much of the North East of England is under water at the moment. If you find this hard to believe (we all do), check out these pictures. The village of Catcliffe, outside Sheffield, was built on a flood plain, so as far as I know it's still under water. The same thing happened there in 2000 apparently (although not quite as bad). The council went ahead and rebuilt the place anyway (what's that kids' song about the wise man building his house upon the rocks?).

It's hard not to assume this is all the result of climate change (in fact, in a trivial sense, it just is climate change). Climate scientists predict that with the rising temperatures on the planet, evaporation will increase and so therefore will precipitation, where atmospheric conditions are right. This means deserts getting drier and places like Britain getting a lot wetter. I'm glad at least to hear many newscasters saying (in that wonderfully passive voice of theirs): "It is expected that this kind of weather situation will become more and more common in future".

When we were in the US I was thoroughly impressed by how much more seriously people seemed to be taking climate change in the wake of Katrina - among other things, like films everyone should see. There is a real sense that at the grass roots level - or at least, at the level of cities and states, rather than higher up - people are genuinely starting to take the idea of climate change seriously, along with the need for us to change our habits en masse. (Granted it's a serious and worrying problem that the administration seems to disagree, but - fingers crossed - that will change.) While in Michigan, Laura and I caught a special on CNN - granted it wasn't exactly on in prime time - about what will probably happen when we run out of oil. I find this idea terrifying, especially since yesterday I gained a niece. What sort of future lies in store for little Eilidh (that's 'Ay-lee' for non-Gaelic speakers) I wonder? It's hard to see anything but violent conflict, famine and general misery on a large scale in the next 50 years - probably within our lifetime. The real pessimists, like George Monbiot seem to think we have only half that time till we hit the point of no return. This in turn makes me wonder - if Laura and I were to have kids, would it be fair on them? Would it be fair on the planet, which is already so grossly overburdened, its resources desperately over-stretched?

In Britian, as with perhaps most things, I think most people still expect the government to do the hard work for us. I'm all for seeing some leadership, but a depressing number of people seem not even to contemplate taking the little steps that might make a difference: switching to low energy lightbulbs, taking plastic bags with them to the shops, never mind reinsulating their houses properly or changing the way they travel round the country (cheap short haul flights are seemingly irresistible in the UK).

This balance of personal vs. national or collective responsibility is a really tough one to strike. How much difference does it really make if Laura and I fly to the US once or twice a year? Is it really reasonable to ask anyone not to see their loved ones for the sake of the world's climate? Isn't the onus therefore on the airlines to produce cleaner - or even carbon neutral - jet fuel? I'd feel a lot happier saying 'yes' if it seemed like any of the airlines - besides Virgin Atlantic, god bless their cotton socks - seemed willing to take on that responsibility.

My pessimism might be genetic, or it might be a result of the thesis blues I'm currently suffering. Irrespective, if anyone sees any signs of hope, or has a rosier picture of humanity's future to share, please do so. I could use a pick-me-up. In the mean time, I'm counting my blessings that for now at least, we're safe on dry land.