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The Myth of ‘It Takes Time’

by Kate Wiseman

Facing our own fear and denial in the belief of a slow and incremental approach to communicating the climate and ecological emergency.

Image by xaviandrew, courtesy of pixabay

We can’t scare people. We have to take it slow. People need time.

I hear this time and again. I hear this from activists. I hear this from the mouths of people so scared about the impact of the climate and ecological emergency on their lives that they want to move half way around the world.

And yet, we all know from personal experience that the trajectory of our lives can change in a few words; that firmly held, long-cherished beliefs can be dropped in a split second; that cataclysmic changes can, and indeed do, occur in the face of those unexpected earthquakes which life’s ever-changing circumstances deliver to us. A cancer diagnosis; the discovery of infidelity, a declaration of war.

The climate and ecological emergency is such a seismic event. When a top UK climate scientist confesses in conversation* that our only chance of averting global catastrophe is to undertake massive global geoengineering efforts in the next two or three years, and that the only option currently feasible that will work at scale is to put mirrors on three or four percent of the earth’s surface – at a cost of trillions of dollars – this is an earthquake.

Know this: this is an earthquake, the tremors of which will soon be sending ripples of devastation through all our lives. And know that if we do not examine our beliefs, in a slow and steady incremental manner, and heed the warning shocks, then many, most, if not all of our kind will perish.

Why do we need to believe that people need time? Why do we need to take it slow? Why can’t we scare people?

So, I wonder how much of the belief in this incrementalist approach is itself our own unconscious denial of the seriousness of our situation; that deep down we prefer, and long, and hope to believe that we do indeed have time. How much does this belief in time-taking protect us from the horror of our situation?

I also wonder how much of this approach is due to our own discomfort at provoking in others the self-same difficult emotions that arose in us, when we learned how bad the situation was; a discomfort at the understandable, but socially unacceptable appearance of fear, rage, grief, despair. These difficult feelings are repressed by most, not readily welcomed between us. Will we, as the messenger, be shot along with our painful message? Are we afraid to risk the transgression of social norms; a suicide by social rejection? A rejection which is painfully and viscerally processed in the soft, vulnerable animal of our body as a threat to our existence.

And I wonder if we are moved by an even greater fear; the rising to the surface of the true scale of those emotions lurking in the dark of our unconscious. Is this our method of avoidance, the avoidance of the amplification of our own emotional responses, in the communal feeling-togetherness which is such a hallmark of our shared humanity? Do we fear that in community, the rising flood waters of emotion will break the banks protecting our most precious fantasies of independence, individuality and immortality? Do we fear that the turbulent waters will wash away everything we longed for, hoped to be, wanted to have, exposing us in the nakedness of our inter-neediness as the wretched, dependent and mortal creatures that we fear ourselves to be?

Of course, I am not arguing or advocating for any particular approach in communicating the climate and ecological emergency. Rather I encourage us to expose ourselves more truly, in the self-protectionist opinions and beliefs that we may hold, and to invite ourselves to ask tough questions about what we think is right or wrong, skillful or unskillful action, as we face the greatest catastrophe in the history of humanity.

Does the last grain of sand to slip through the narrow neck of the hourglass believe that it has ‘time to take time’?

Will we hold ourselves knowingly and lovingly in the consciousness of our own fear and denial, and act from there?

Or will this loyalty to our belief in the taking-of-time be prised from the last, cold, rigid, dead pair of human hands…leaving no-one to chisel the epitaph ‘it takes time’ ‘on the tombstone of our humanity.

* in conversation with Roger Hallam

Kate Wiseman is a full-time volunteer with Extinction Rebellion in the Czech Republic where she coordinates the team which, amongst other things, is responsible for communicating with people about the climate and ecological emergency. She is curious about exploring the hidden, deepest, and truest parts of herself and others exposed in the face of this terrible predicament.

climate change, ecological emergency

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