In 1942, a twenty-eight-year old member of the Polish underground, Jan Karski, left on a mission from Nazi-controlled Poland to travel to England and from there on to America. His goal was to inform world leaders of the horrors being inflicted on the Jewish populations under German control and implore the world to act.
In June, 1943, Karski met with U.S. Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter, himself a Jew. After hearing Karski’s description of the clearing of the Warsaw Ghetto, exterminations in the concentration camps and atrocities, Frankfurter’s response was this: “Mr. Karski, a man like me talking to a man like you must be totally frank. So I must say I am unable to believe what you told me.” When a colleague of Karski’s attempted to add more details and weight to the argument, Frankfurter responded, “I didn’t say that this young man is lying. I said I am unable to believe him. My mind, my heart, they are made in such a way that I cannot accept it.”
Many of us find ourselves in Frankfurt’s position when it comes to climate change. We know, but we don’t believe. We know the projections and estimates. But we don’t believe the projections and estimates fall within our spheres of influence. And herein lies the thrust of Foer’s work.
I received this book as a Christmas gift from my cousin-in-law and at first glance I was dreading (another) book discussing the crashing and burning of the climate, chapter after chapter filled with tightening spirals of dire and gloomy data.
That is not this book.
This book assumes the reader already knows the data and estimates and projections. Foer then sets out to map the contours of our inaction. Sure, there are graphs and charts and numbers thrown in, but they really are beside the point. Knowing what we know, why are we not acting like we know what we know?
Most chapters in the book are presented in readily digestible sections of about five pages each. With one exception, which forms the heart of the book. This exception is a chapter entitled “Dispute with the Soul.” In this lengthy segment the reader is given a chair in the corner of the room while Foer debates with himself the causes of his inaction.
Does he believe that a technological solution will save us all?
Does he believe that there is nothing to be believed in?
Does he believe that humans are destined to consume their supporting environment, regardless of location?
Does he believe that he has any ability to change the outcome, one way or the other?
Throughout Foer’s conversation with himself, the takeaway is that the most important metric in terms of our individual impact on the world is not our distance from unattainable perfection but our proximity to unforgivable inaction. Our desire to avoid being caught up in inconsistencies that run counter to a certain ethic of care (imported Canadian pine shavings for my compost toilet, anyone?) leads us to a failure to act in a manner that reflects how dire things are. We have to get over that. We have to know that any action we take on behalf of the biosphere is going to be imperfect and flawed. And that’s okay. But what is unforgivable is inaction.
Oh, and yes, getting back to the actual title of the book: Foer suggests that if we all elected to not eat any animal-based products until at least lunch time, the effects on the climate would be significant. That seems doable.
Want to read a copy? Of course you do. Go find a copy here: http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/1097599395
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