
‘Modern life is morally exhausting. And confusing. Everything we do seems to matter. But simultaneously, nothing we do seems to matter.’
Rieder begins his exploratory text into ethics in a familiar and recognisable manner, making it clear that being faced with a plethora of lifestyle and moral choices and decisions, we can be overloaded and be paralysed into non-action, at a time when energy is needed.
‘Catastrophe Ethics’ should not be read as a scientific book about the current and future impacts of the climate crisis. Instead, it poses challenging questions about the role of the individual in the face of a global dilemma. Participation or non-participation? To choose to be informed or not?
Rieder powerfully challenges us to explore the moral and ethical reasons behind our actions and processes and to evaluate the limitations of these. It does not shy away from stating that climate change must be addressed, but argues that we are not prepared for the morality of climate choices that lie before us.
‘We, as a global society, must address climate change. Doing so is an absolute moral requirement because it is already causing devastation, with the worst yet to come.’
To be complicit in the failed system
Early examples from the text remind the reader that we are dreadfully complicit in failed systems. We happily order from Amazon, despite being aware of working conditions. We enthusiastically watch world cups, when we are aware that the most recent host nation exploited migrant labour. We are seduced by flash and stylish car adverts, when we are aware of the impact of global emissions. We are consumers in systems that cause suffering to others- whether this applies to the latest ‘fast fashion’ company caught for labour exploitation, or food outlets which urge responsible eating, while happily taking your money for unhealthy food. Trying to extricate ourselves from these systems, or to try and rise above them, can be sometimes too much of a challenge- which links with the argument of how do we know for certain that our different ‘ethical’ paths are truly ethical at every stage of the process.
Rieder focuses then on the moral questions and moves away from the scientific certainties. He asks ‘How warm can we allow the planet to get before it causes serious, irreversible harm?’ and urges that this is
a moral question rather than a scientific one. He notes, ‘In all likelihood, the Earth will warm more than 1.5 degrees Celsius in the coming decades, which means we need to ask some important, difficult questions, such as Where are we actually headed? And what will the world be like in that scenario?’
With this in mind, the focus of the book turns quickly to explore the ethical choices that individuals make and where these choices come from- the ‘motivational ethics’ as it were, which drive behaviours. Rieder openly acknowledges that there has been a shift in attention away from the actions of companies and businesses to that of the individual, but repeats that the climate crisis is a collective problem and that whether this shift is a result of ‘big business’ wanting to deflect, like BP’s famous ‘carbon footprint’, Rieder suggests that this could be seen as irrelevant. That the shift has happened isn’t as important as what we do now.
‘In recent years, it has become popular for moral philosophers and environmental activists alike to object to putting the onus on individual responsibility. Why?’
The focus on the individual intrinsically highlights that removing the individual from the ‘system’ is virtually impossible. When bloggers and the media complain about the ‘emission filled’ lifestyles of environmental activists like Greta Thunberg, they implicitly acknowledge that there is no escape from this created, reliant world.
‘After all, in modern society there is virtually no decision that is carbon-neutral. One’s work, hobbies, relationships- all are likely to increase one’s carbon footprint.’
I don’t make a difference
“I mean, I’m just one person on a planet of billions of people. Surely I can’t make a real difference, right?”
Rieder then shifts his ethical exploration into the moral obligations to act and the moral obligations to refrain from behaviours. He asks where the obligation to refrain from needlessly emitting greenhouse gases comes from? Should ‘joyguzzling’ be seen as morally reprehensible? If so, by whom and why? Should eating meat be seen as morally reprehensible and carry with it a moral duty to offset this action? If so, why?
He notes that this fascination with individual choice and freedoms lie at the heart of the problem.‘That’s why individual choice in modern times is a puzzle. It seems both to matter greatly and not to matter at all.’
When we live ‘In a world where just 100 companies are responsible for 71 percent of total human emissions, it seems not only ineffective to focus on individuals but perverse.’
Rieder explores the moral argument of percentages and asks whether we really believe, ‘that a few kilograms of CO₂ will meaningfully worsen a problem that arises only when trillions of tons of GHG collect in the atmosphere.’
He reminds us that blaming the individual is part of a tried and trusted (and successful) playbook from Big Tobacco, as well as the gun lobby. He then uses other relevant and recent examples to allow us to question our moral responsibilities and where these come from.
How to respond to a global threat
It is clear that as a species, we need to ‘flatten the curve’ of greenhouse emissions. Rieder compares concerted climate action with the behaviours that we saw during the global pandemic and asks whether the ‘ground rules’ are sufficiently in place to protect us all. ‘How ought you to act in this strange new world?’ During the pandemic, we all observed the hoarders, the rule breakers, as well as those who followed the rules carefully. Our actions carried a moral responsibility to others- strangers as well as family. The main difference was that any impact, direct or indirect, played out in a matter of days, rather than decades as the climate crisis might. We were concerned when we found out that close family had caught covid. We urged protective measures for ourselves and we judged others when they acted in a manner which did not fit in with the quickly adopted ‘moral manner’. Rieder makes the point that, with this in recent memory, that our actions and lack of action (e.g. non mask wearing) could impact others, climate ethics should now be easier. ‘Covid ethics starts to sound a bit like climate ethics.’
Similar to covid, the solution to a global issue must come from the global society. ‘Climate change is a collective problem, and so it will be solved by collectives or not at all.’ Rieder finishes this section with again highlighting that the reasons behind actions are his focus and words like ‘duty’, ‘responsibility’ and ‘obligation’ all carry weight.
‘Climate change will be devastating if not addressed by the world’s powers, and so they have an obligation to fix it. What does that mean for each of us?’
What do we actually owe to each other and why?
Rieder makes no apologies for the fact that moral responsibility and accountability is complex and that ethical choices may have limitations in how ‘right’ they are. He argues, ‘The challenge of moral motivation is phenomenally difficult.’ He explores moral theory and uses the well known example of the ‘trolley scenario’- often used to rationalise moral decisions- to underpin the argument that, ‘There is a moral difference between doing and allowing harm, and so a serious moral difference between killing and letting die.’
He highlights and refers to other large systems, such as democratic voting in elections, where the actions of an individual, that is, a single vote, may not make much overall difference. He does this to explore the moral reasons for participating in a large system and urges that even with an overall insignificant impact, the participation in the system is vital. He asks us to question why this duty is so vital? Why should we participate in democracy?
Why should we vote in elections- especially when it is far easier not to?
Do we feel we owe a duty to those who fought and suffered for equal voting rights in the past? How long does this duty last- is it intergenerational? Do we vote because we feel we owe a duty to those who fought for democracy against fascism? Do we feel we owe that duty in all areas of all lives? Where does this ‘duty’ and obligation begin and end?
Rieder urges that we do so because we care. ‘As people- as moral agents- we care which actions come from us. We care about the collective efforts in which we participate.’
Everyone else is doing it
‘Catastrophe Ethics’ begins to draw to a close by not offering easy answers. Instead it challenges us to explore our own personal motivation and morality by presenting a number of different scenarios for us to contemplate and reflect on our positions. Rieder explores the morality of tax evasion and tax fraud, end of life care, our position on abortion, our religious viewpoint and the moral duty that comes from belief systems. He finishes on the well worn question of having children while the climate crisis is ongoing- an argument which often appears to ignore that babies were conceived and born during the global pandemic, during World War 2 and during countless threats in the past. Rieder notes that although, ‘We are obsessed with obligation and duty,’ we do not seem to spend too much time contemplating our personal lifestyle choices to understand why we act in certain ways, why we follow these self- imposed moral rules, and what happens when we break them.
It is difficult to read the close of the book and not think of ‘Grease 2’ and the ‘Do it for your country’ song, as one character tries to impose a sexual duty and obligation on another, by arguing a patriotic duty is owed and indeed that everyone else is doing it.
Is doing nothing a moral option?
Rieder concludes by exploring the impact of inaction and the moral duties and obligations which emerge from being passive and not participating. He powerfully argues that other large systems will not be solved by individuals, but that this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.
‘Poverty, famine and disease will not be solved by me, and I might even be skeptical that my individual contribution will matter much at all when sucked up into massive multinational charitable organizations. And yet the problem feels like one I can and should address.’
Interestingly, Rieder closes with the use of the word ‘faith’. Perhaps not in a religious sense, but to link this value with accountability and integrity. We should address global problems, because we live in the world at a time when we exist to solve them.
‘It is our job to identify one of the many ways of living a good life- one that aligns with our values, preferences, and even talents and strengths- and then to live it in good faith and with integrity.’
Perhaps the words attributed to John Wesley can summarise this better:
‘Do all the good you can.
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.’