An Off-the-Charts Week
We've entered the era of global boiling
The heat that has been covering the rest of the country finally crept into New England, bringing temperatures into the 90s, and forecast to go above 100. Of course, that’s not nearly as bad as places like the southwest, where it’s so hot even the iconic saguaro cacti are collapsing.
The news all summer about the environment has been dire, but three things reported this week were especially shocking.
The Antarctic has lost an unprecedented amount of ice — so much that it may not recover. The chart is astounding.
The water temperature around the Florida Keys reached more than 101 degrees, likely a world record. Marine life can’t survive in these conditions. But hurricanes thrive — and their season is coming.
The gulf stream system that influences the weather patterns upon which civilization depends will likely collapse sometime between 2025-95. Given the accelerating pace of climate changes it would be smart to bet on sooner.
As UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres said, “The era of global warming has ended. The era of global boiling has begun.”
I’m crying as I write this because I can see what’s coming and I’m powerless to stop it. It will be so much so fast that I almost feel powerless to prepare for it. The threat is existential — we should be devoting all of our energy to it. And yet, it’s just part of the picture. Today I’ll cry about the climate as I write, and later I will run errands and buy things I need for vacation. I’ll try to get the thoughts of doom out of my head, because they’re paralyzing and unproductive.
The stories come like waves lapping on the shore, each one a little closer, telling us that things are getting worse, and worse, and worse. We hear the stories as news — reports on the climate situation, updates on the latest research. But we don’t recognize them for what they are — warnings.
Behind this encroaching tide of climate news is a tsunami whose devastation we are not prepared for. The magnitude of change that’s coming prevents us from taking the action that could save us. It’s impossible to know how to react to something so life-changing and civilization crushing until you see it with your own eyes — and by then it’s likely too late.
Just being in it through your words, is a bit of a comfort. Grateful to break some of the isolation that surreally surrounds this most universal of traumas, together.