The difficulty of communicating climate change

I haven’t mentioned RealClimate here for quite some time (old posts are here) but continue to follow its articles and browse the comments pages, because it’s such a great source of informed debate about climate science. This recent exchange amongst the comments on a post about climate “skepticism” caught my eye because Dan Miller’s explanation for the difficulty of communicating the climate crisis is so succinct.

Gordon Shephard said:
… Ernest Becker, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for his book “The Denial of Death,” argues that anxiety about one’s mortality is (for the vast majority of people) the psyche’s strongest motivator. It is not that people don’t believe they are going to die, or that they fear death specifically, but that they hope that, somehow, their symbolic immortality will be assured as long as their particular vision of the future of humanity persists. Tell someone that their particular version is doomed, and they will fight you tooth and nail.
Certainly some individuals have conscious motives for “sowing confusion.” But many will feel (unconsciously) that the possibility of a radical change in the course of humanity’s future (such as that which will result from significant climate change) is a direct threat to their vision of their symbolic immortality. They will grasp the thinnest of straws just to say it isn’t so.

Dan Miller replied:
In addition to the psychological resistance to a vision of a failed future, there are other psychological barriers to facing climate change.
Humans evolved to filter information and focus on near-term dangers, like a lion approaching. There are six triggers that get us to focus on a problem: 1. Immediate, 2. Visible, 3. Historical Precedence, 4. Simple Causality, 5. Direct Personal Consequences, and 6. Caused by an Enemy. Until recently, climate change had 0 of 6 (you could now say that it is somewhat visible). Number 6 is an important one… imagine if we found out tomorrow that all the excess CO2 is being released by North Korea in order to destabilize the climate. We would take care of that swiftly!
It’s almost as if the climate crisis was designed by a diabolical genius specifically so that we will not respond in time. You can see more on this in my TEDx talk.

Harbingers of the Wet

Honeyeater
Juvenile Blue-faced Honeyeater feeding in the Poplar Gum

Birds have been visiting us in greater numbers than usual thanks to the simultaneous flowering of all our biggest trees, the poplar gum, paperbark and mango. Rainbow Lorikeets have joined our resident friarbirds and honeyeaters (the Yellow Honeyeaters are still around, by the way) taking advantage of the abundance.

In the last week or so I have heard (but not seen) both a Koel and a Torres Strait Pigeon (aka PIP) in my garden. Both are Wet season visitors and both are here earlier than usual, if only by a few weeks. Of course, our weather has not been following ‘normal’ patterns. (Nor has the weather anywhere else, and climate change is largely to blame.) So far we’ve had a warmer and wetter Dry season than usual (120mm in June-July-August, more than offsetting a dry April and May), although not wet enough to relieve our water restrictions.

Rainbow Lorikeet
Rainbow Lorikeet looking for his share

Home solar update

The 1.5 KW solar system on our roof has just passed a good round number in its total output – 12 000 kWh, or 12 MWh – and that’s a good enough excuse for another update.

We installed the system in May 2011 so it has produced an average of 6.26 kWh per day for five years. That’s a useful percentage of a household’s consumption: according to Ergon’s figures on the back of our power bill, the average consumption for a household like ours is about 20 kWh per day, so our panels are producing nearly a third as much as we use.

Of course, we use some of our solar power during the day and export the rest of it, and then use Ergon’s power all night, so our net benefit doesn’t quite reflect those numbers. I did the sums a year after the installation and came up with a figure of $700 p.a., with the expectation that that would increase if power prices increased. Using the same logic now for the five year period, we find:

  • Total produced = 12 000 kWh (6.26 kWh/day)
  • Total exported to grid ~ 5200 kWh, for ~ $2300 income
  • Total PV power used at home ~ 6800 kWh, for ~ $1700 savings
  • Total benefit ~ $4000

In 2011 I said:

All in all, making the best guesses I can for the unknowns, pay-back time for the whole project (PV system and switchboard) looks like being in the 5 – 8 year range. That’s perfectly acceptable … Of course, if the electricity tariff rises (hands up everyone who thinks it is going to fall? No, my hand didn’t go up either), pay-back time will drop accordingly.

The cost for the system was $3500. Even if my new figures on exports and savings are on the optimistic side, it looks like our system has paid for itself, just a few months ahead of the earliest date I anticipated.

That’s pleasing, of course. The thought that it will continue to  bring us that $800 p.a. benefit indefinitely is even more pleasing. So is the thought that we have done our little bit to reduce CO2 emissions, and that it has basically cost us nothing to do so.

Was there any downside?  Maintenance costs? Repair costs after the cyclone? None at all. It just sits there quietly on the roof, collecting photons and turning them into useable electricity, day after day.

For the record, the general tariff was 19.4 c/kWh when we installed the system five years ago, had risen to 30.8 c/kWh by July 2014 and has now (surprisingly) dropped back to 22.3 c/kWh. In May 2011 the “service fee” or “daily supply charge” was only $23 per quarter, whereas by May 2014 it had risen to 55 cents per day ($49 per quarter). It has continued to rise and is now $1.07 per day, closing in on $100 per quarter. The supplier is simply trying to maintain revenue in the face of flat or falling demand and the service fee is a favoured strategy – but that’s a topic for another day.

Composting and industrial recycling

compostingComposting

[no author]
Penguin, March 2009, $19.95

Composting is a brief but very practical, hands-dirty, guide to turning garden waste, food scraps and waste paper into the kind of soil that will have your plants moaning in ecstasy as they grow a mile a minute. As the authors say, it isn’t rocket science and there are no hard and fast rules. Anything organic will rot if you leave it long enough, and learning about composting is simply learning how to make the process work better for you and your garden.

If you just want to put lawn clippings on the garden beds, fine. If you want to buy a bokashi bucket to keep in the kitchen, fine. If you want to make a worm farm, fine. If you want to establish a hot-compost heap and turn it every week, that’s fine too. Composting points out that many people evolve a mixed system for dealing with waste and when I looked at our own household to check, I counted nine different paths we use to convert green stuff into good soil or dispose of what we can’t use. Our system makes the most of our resources with the least possible time and effort but it was never planned, it just grew. The garden does, too.

cradle-to-cradleCradle to Cradle

Michael Braungart and William McDonough
Random House, April 2009, $24.95

Cradle to Cradle applies the composting model to industrial design. Continue reading “Composting and industrial recycling”

Dry season, 2016

Just over a year ago I wrote:

The Dry arrived this week, with an almost-audible thump: humidity halved between Tuesday and Wednesday. After hanging around the high fifties (RH at 9 am, figures from this chart) for the first three weeks of [April], it was 22, 32 and 52% on Wednesday – Friday this week …

The same change of weather hit us yesterday and last night, three weeks later than last year. For me, at least, it’s the confirmation that our Wet has truly ended – not that we really needed one, since the only rain we had in April was about 20mm in the middle of the month, as per the BoM data, and we’ve only had a bit of drizzle this month. The garden has been telling us, too: the frangipanis are shedding their leaves and the Cape York lilies have died back, amongst other indications.

In the six months November-April we’ve had rainfall totals of 26, 111, 76, 95, 558 (March was a good month!) and 21 mm respectively, for a not-so-grand total of 887 mm. March alone put us well above our record-low 2015 rainfall total but we would still have liked more. Ross Dam is at 26%, an alarmingly low level for the start of the Dry. I may say more about that in a follow-up post but, meanwhile, the TCC chart here will show you what’s going on.