Two writers weigh the impact of travel on Earth’s climate

A response to the previous post, “Travel: an environmental dilemma” 

by Jean Franklin

My husband Carl, a physics teacher and meteorologist, has known about climate change since 1970, but thought it would not become a problem in his lifetime. Then shockingly, about 10 years ago, scientists announced that Earth is warming much faster than expected.

We talked it over, facing the facts. As American baby boomers, we had consumed more fossil fuels than any generation in history, and at age 60 we had enough discretionary income to continue harming the environment for 30 more years. We lived in a 3,000-square-foot home and drove two cars to work. We were planning to buy a small RV and tour the Western national parks.

In 2007 we decided to change our lives. We have now lowered our carbon footprint more than 60 percent. Our big decision was to scrap the RV idea and buy solar panels for our bookstore and a Prius. In 2010, we moved within a mile of downtown, where we could walk to work, church, and restaurants. Through a combination of planning and luck, we sold our large house and bought a 1,000-square-foot cottage.

We also changed our thinking about travel. We have not been on a plane since before 9/11. Not only does it take massive amounts of fossil fuel to lift 500 pounds (two people plus luggage) 30,000 feet into the air and propel us thousands of miles, but the jet’s contrails, frozen water vapor, act as a greenhouse gas, trapping heat in the atmosphere.

Since we live in paradise—Western North Carolina—we vacation within a few miles of home. We visit our children in Durham and Atlanta, but otherwise, we like to park our car at a hotel in a quaint mountain town and simply stroll, enjoying restaurants, plays, and concerts.

We travel to fabulous places through books and documentaries. It does not break our hearts to miss seeing the Serengheti or the Great Barrier Reef; it breaks our hearts that millions of African people and elephants are starving due to acute droughts, that large sections of Australia’s great reef are dead due to overheated sea water. Some Americans say, “My small efforts won’t help,” but scientists beg to differ, and beg for our help. The game is not over. Battle fatigued climate scientists say that everything we do will make the future better.

Note: Some people who fly purchase carbon offsets—for example, from groups giving away efficient cookstoves to prevent native people from cutting down trees in rainforests for firewood. Google “carbon offsets” and browse the many options.

 

Jean and Carl Franklin, retired teachers and co-owners of Black Mountain Books, teach and write about climate change.

Politics—who cares?

I’ve been trying not to care. It just makes me worry, deprives me of sleep, interferes with writing fiction. Reading the newspaper and watching the news on TV make things worse.

In my stop-caring campaign, I remind myself that retirement benefits, while not allowing luxury, do provide my shelter, food, and clothing. So it doesn’t matter to me when funds are cut to food stamps and programs that feed the indigent. My older neighbors who lack basic necessities should go live with their kids. If young enough to work let them get a job like I did. (Forget that my parents sacrificed for my college education so I could earn an adequate income.)

I no longer need a job, so why should I care if minimum wage is $7.25 an hour and a single mother would have to work 15 hours a day/7 days a week to earn $40,000? It’s probably her fault she’s single anyway.

I have health insurance that supplements Medicare. If my back aches I call for a doctor’s appointment. Others in the country have no health insurance at all. Not my problem.

I’m white, registered to vote, and have a drivers license. The older lady down the street—her friend regularly drives her to the library, which does not require a birth certificate for a card. In fact she long ago misplaced hers. What do I care? She’d probably vote for candidates I don’t like anyway.

The planet’s getting warmer, bringing draught to farmlands, flooding to shorelines. By the time things get really bad I’ll be long gone.

So what if a woman at age 45, who already has three young adult children, gets pregnant and isn’t allowed, even upon her doctor’s recommendation, to have an abortion? I’m past child-bearing years. Her crisis has nothing to do with me.

Yes, I’ve been trying not to care about these things.

But in my Bible I read, “Woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you shall hunger” (Luke 6:24-5).

And my grandchildren say “I love you” as they hug me. I want fresh air and water to be in their future. Adequate shelter, food, clothing. Freedom from debilitating illness and financial ruin. As I want for all children.

I dare not quit caring.