精东影业

(The light is Maxfield Parrish pretty right now because of bad, bad things. It鈥檚 easy to forget this.)

Last year I devoured Anna Weiner鈥檚 book about Silicon Valley in a gulp. Not only was it dishy (Did I just use the word dishy? Yes, I did. I am a bubby in a tracksuit eating a bagel on the beach.), but every page seemed to contain a caustic turn of phrase that fairly yet mercilessly reflected the stupidity of the way we live now. Weiner is a fantastic writer. And  about the worst things happening in California right now is beautifully observed in so many parts. I mean, they took selfies in the tangerine light.

But.

It doesn鈥檛 include climate. Yes, the headline writer tacked on the words ecological crisis, but it鈥檚 a piece about a mood, about feelings, and about the air. My worry is that this kind of writing, however lilting, tells the wrong story. Because just as news reports NEED to include climate as a causal force behind extreme and more extreme weather, deeply observational writers need to reflect this in their dispatches as well. Conflating all the bad things that have plagued California into a soup of equals is not the story. Weiner writes:

Some are saying that these crises are too much to bear; that the collision of public-health issues is unsustainable; that California will soon become uninhabitable; that people will flee. But the state has always offered its residents reasons to leave: earthquakes, drought, heat, fires; political and economic cruelties. A certain degree of volatility is part of the pact. It seems just as likely that people will adapt, as they always do, until adaptation, by will or necessity, turns into retreat.

Just as we need Biden to make , we need to make clear that climate-induced extreme weather is NOT NORMAL. Political cruelties are not the same hurdle as being increasingly on fire, forever. 

The reframing reflects our natural human impulse. We this is fine everything. I asked an old friend who lives in California how she was doing, and she said she was fine, except for all the smoke. Another friend relayed that her California pal said they couldn鈥檛 go outside, but other than that they鈥檙e 鈥極K.鈥� A fire is burning down my state while I fix dinner, but I鈥檓 OK. Cool cool cool.

Writes Linda Solomon Wood in the National Observer:

It must be strange to be young in this world. I live with a household with 3 teenagers. Yet I still can’t wrap my mind around what it’s like to be them, coming of age during a pandemic, explosive wildfires, racially based murders, rising extremism, polarization, and above all else, to be aware of mass species extinctions and the mounting dangers of climate change. Scary. And normal. And that’s the scariest thing of all, how normal it is beginning to seem.

Every piece of writing should subvert or make transparent the normalization and acceptance of climate crisis, even if it seems rote or obvious or repetitive or political. Because it鈥檚 actually none of those things. To make vivid this abnormality, you have to ACTUALLY WRITE THE WORD CLIMATE. It鈥檚 table stakes. If you don鈥檛 give climate the head nod when you enter the room, you鈥檙e that dude.

The amazing work of the group  is all about making sure disaster reporting connects to climate. But I鈥檓 also deeply worried about the less overt omissions鈥攁bout writing that just rolls climate into an evitable fog of adaptation, a poetic exploration of our human capacity to just go with it. In a  we may fall into in our effort to eradicate COVID, the Atlantic鈥檚 Ed Yong cites one that is a distillation of everything I鈥檝e just written. It even comes with a scary, catchy name: The Habituation of Horror:

The U.S. might stop treating the pandemic as the emergency that it is. Daily tragedy might become ambient noise. The desire for normality might render the unthinkable normal. Like  and ,  and ,  and ,  and , COVID-19 might become yet another unacceptable thing that America comes to accept.

Let鈥檚 unhabituate the horror. Let it find no place of rest in our normal hearts. This is not the perfectest metaphor but it gets close enough. Do you have a better one? Please send it to me.

THIS WEEK

Find the stories that need to be connected to climate and gently suggest to editors and writers that this is not fine. You can even suggest stories to End Climate Silence by dropping them a note.

LAST WEEK(S)

This, from Ben, is me every day –

I鈥檝e been thinking a lot about the things you鈥檝e written in there about balancing the forever climate change with what am I gonna eat for breakfast today.

PEOPLE DANCING

Six-year-old Myles Gilpin had the chance to show off his skills during the annual Mamoweedow gathering on Fort George Island.

Myles mother Joanne says he鈥檚 been dancing since the age of three and loves every second of it.

Credit: Leanne Rupert Pepabano/Facebook

— APTN News (@APTNNews)

Hope you are happy and healthy,
Sarah

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P.P.P.P.S. This is my newsletter for the week of September 17, 2020, published in partnership with 精东影业 Media. You can sign up to get Minimum Viable Planet newsletter emailed directly to you at .