Why You Shouldn’t Try to Face Climate Change Alone

This article is a shorter version of one I have published on Medium: Climate Collapse: I’ve just found out how bad things are. What now?

There is no quick-fix when you discover that your future may well be a lot worse than you had imagined. There is no magic formula for overcoming the realisation that our planet may soon become all but uninhabitable for human life.

When I first woke up to the climate crisis, I felt like I was going crazy. My friends and family were still talking about having babies, going on holidays to tropical places, building their houses.

When I tried to talk about climate change - in the context of, for example, whether or not it was a good idea to buy a house in a place that would be underwater in a few years - they laughed at me. I was called ‘overdramatic’, ‘pessimistic’ or a ‘doomsdayer’. Even my therapist asked me whether I was catastrophising. I’m sure these are familiar words to you, too.

It was a lonely experience. In many ways, it still is; my closest friends and family continue to see the climate crisis as something “over there”, far away, even as wildfires rage in Greece and Spain and floods destroy homes in London and Germany. Until it’s actually at their physical door, burning down their home or washing away their possessions, perhaps their psychological defence mechanisms will continue to tell them not to worry.

But - you’re not alone.

The good news is that once you start searching you will find thousands, millions, of people who are already painfully aware of the effects of climate change (most of the world haven’t had the privilege to ignore it up until now) and who are actively working to minimise its worst effects. 

The bad news is, you’re a little late to the party. Note that I didn’t say that people are working to “stop” climate change. There are, of course, many people who are fighting to make sure things don’t turn out as bad as they could —but  unless we very quickly change a LOT of things, right now (which — judging our current record — doesn’t seem massively likely) we’re unlikely to ‘fix the problem’. 

So - a lot of people are looking at adaptation, at the earth’s capacity to regenerate, and at human resilience — at worst, this means “how can we at least make things less bad than they might be if we do nothing?”, at best it means “how might we thrive and evolve into something much greater than the destructive, extractive society that put us in this mess?”. 

One of the most important things I’ve learnt these past few years is the importance of finding community. It is a lonely experience to sit with the weight of climate predictions on your shoulders, wondering whether you have misunderstood something as those around you carry on as if nothing is wrong.

It is easy to start feeling like you are the only one who cares, and that the burden of saving the earth rests entirely on your shoulders. That’s a burden that no solo human can possibly bear.

There are Climate Circles starting to form all over the place, both local and online, for people to meet and discuss their feelings. Extinction Rebellion hold Empathy Circles, and there are more and more climate-aware or collapse-aware therapists and coaches out there. The Deep Adaptation network holds free events and has a directory of guides (I’m one of them) who will not only help you to navigate your emotions, but perhaps to plan your next steps. 

And as well as looking for spaces to help you navigate your emotions, of course, there are groups working on solutions and adaptation. Whether you get in touch with your local Greenpeace, Transitions Town Movement, Friends of the Earth, look for local ‘green’ initiatives such as composting, or find out what is going on with your local green-leaning political parties, there is a space where your skills and strengths will be best utilised. But rushing straight into action as a way to ease the discomfort is not always the best solution - when things come from a place of anxiety and panic, they are not likely to be the best or most effective solutions .

I recommend Britt Wray’s blog - for example, here is a list of resources for dealing with climate emotions.

I can’t recommend Joanna Macy’s Work that Reconnects enough. Initially designed for activists to process the heavy emotional load that came from fighting for nuclear disarmament, Macy and her colleagues found that when people share their grief, rage, despair, and fear together with others in a safe space, it helps to shift something inside us. Time and time again while facilitating these workshops, I have been amazed to see how something shifts within people when they are heard and held by strangers who share their pain and their concerns.

I regularly hold introductory circles and workshops to help people navigate their emotions around the climate crisis - see my events page for the latest.

Individualism is part of what created this crisis in the first place. The belief that we don’t need to live in interconnection and mutual respect with each other and the earth, that we can do (and have) everything ourselves, has led to an insatiable hunger that is bleeding the earth dry. To try carrying the burden of the entire crisis on our own shoulders can only lead to frustration, disappointment and burnout. Humans need to come together - to mourn and grieve the situation we are in, and then to listen to each other, to seek solutions, to apply our creativity and to co-create a better world together.

You don’t have to solve this on your own.