Azzedine Downes
I have never been satisfied with just fighting the good fight. We need to actually make a difference.
Perhaps one of the most debilitating emotions, anxiety leaves us unable to advance, rendering us seemingly incapable of finding our way towards a beacon of progress. And such is the feeling which many now refer to as ‘climate anxiety’, the feeling of doom and despair associated with the ever-increasing incidents of climate-related devastation, ranging from droughts to floods and the aftermath of their unforgiving results. Soaring temperatures and shifting weather patterns have made the unpredictable almost unbearable, not only affecting our way of life but more importantly producing generational long-term effects on the world’s biodiversity.
The situation is no doubt serious—immensely so. Perhaps it can be considered dire. The demise of the planet falls nothing short of literally ‘trashing our own home’, poisoning the foundation that supports our own survival. But this sensation of climate anxiety cannot rid us of one of the most effective antidotes forever within our reach—hope.
Each generation bears the burdens of the actions of those that came before it. Each is given a pithy name that is meant to comprehensively distill, in some clever way, their entire generational identity—from ‘Generation X’ to ‘millennials’ to the ‘Me Generation’ and beyond. All these terms fail spectacularly to grasp the reality that we are all connected—we are all a product of what has come before us, reflecting either directly or indirectly the influences and circumstances of our times. Anxiety has been a part of all generational identities, though it is most often attributed to individuals or geopolitical situations and rarely to far-reaching environmental concerns. Climate anxiety is very much the same. It’s a collective socio-global nervousness at the climatic conditions exacerbated day after day by a carbon-reliant global community.
Nature will bounce back—if we allow it to. It is resilient and determined, yet like us it must be given the space and conditions in which it can thrive. Hope is not a cure-all for anxiety, nor is it the only tool in our arsenal. Hope must be supported by a persistent cascade of action and a downpour of determination (and yes, a sprinkling of luck at times). It is a means, not an end. It is an uplifter against the down-drag of despair.
One outcome of climate change anxiety is, unsurprisingly, that people lose the ability to retain hope—both individually as well as collectively. Despair overtakes resolve and lays a rocky foundation of inaction. In some ways, climate change anxiety has become a collective disorder—of our own doing, admittedly, but not one that is without a cure. Hope is our elixir, and action is its vessel.
I like to think I have quite a bit of hope. I refuse to accept that we are mere witnesses to the demise of the planet, that the pendulum has swung so far past the ‘tipping point’ that we are unable to right the ship. There is much yet to be done—and admittedly much that already should have been done. But we are on the right path if we continue to hold onto hope—not cling to it, but embrace it robustly—and use it as the seed for change, nurturing it through action and a recognition that we truly are all in this together.
I’m reminded of a quote from Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s book, Anti-fragile: ‘Wind extinguishes a candle and energizes fire.’ As the wind has come, we must decide if we are to be the candle or the fire. I prefer we build the fire and reinforce it with both hope and unwavering resilience one person at a time, one community at a time.
In the midst of COP28 currently taking place in Dubai, leaders of nations, organisations, and corporations are convening in one of the largest demonstrations of collective determination against climate change—and, by default, against climate anxiety. IFAW, the organisation which I have the honor of leading, has for over half a century espoused one of the greatest untapped natural solutions to climate change that currently exists—the protection and preservation of both animals and biodiversity.
There is much beauty in what we do, yet there is also hardship. And here is where hope plays an essential role, with action shining a spotlight on center stage. It’s okay to feel nervousness—aka ‘anxiety’—to a certain degree; it may even be somewhat healthy as we know how much is at stake when the spotlight shines upon us all during our one performance on this shared planet.
So, I leave you with a few parting words of advice related to climate anxiety. Trade your anxiety in for hope; exchange your nervousness for determination; replace inaction with relentlessness. Solutions, much like hope, surround us if we are willing to embrace them. And I urge you—do not focus on the final curtain call when we know full well the show must go on.
Azzedine Downes
I have never been satisfied with just fighting the good fight. We need to actually make a difference.
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