Heading for the 40th Parliament?

After 15 months with a Conservative minority government, it looks like Canada is heading for a new general election.

For those not paying overly close attention, the Liberal Party held its convention back in December, choosing Stéphane Dion as their new leader. Dion beat out Michael Ignatieff who had, at times, seemed the front-runner. Back in January 2006, the Conservative Party managed to secure a minority government, ending Y years of Liberal control over the House of Commons.

Stephen Harper is obviously trying to consolidate his earlier victory into a majority government. The election should be an interesting one, primarily because of social and environmental issues. There is a lingering suspicion that the relative moderation the Conservatives have shown in power is a tactical choice for the period until they get a majority government (though those fears may simply be stoked by Liberals hoping to frighten a few votes their way). On the environment, nobody is looking too good at the moment. The Conservatives have all but abandoned Canada’s commitment to Kyoto, which the previous Liberal government had never put a sufficient amount of effort into. The heightened level of concern about climate change will probably make the issue front-and-centre in the campaign. Whether that will lead to anything meaningful or not remains to be seen.

Equilibrium ruminations

Ceiling in Green College tower

Working on chapter three, I have been talking a lot about different kinds of equilibria, and what implications they have for environmental policy. Uncertainty about which sort we are dealing with – as well as the critical points of transition between them – make it exceptionally difficult to consider global environmental problems in cost-benefit terms.

Stable equilibria

One common view of the characteristics of natural equilibria is that they are both stable and singular. An example is a marble at the bottom of a bowl. If you push it a bit in one direction or another, it will return to where it was. Many biological systems seem to be like this, at least within limits. Think about the acid-base conjugate systems that help control the pH of blood, or about an ecosystem where a modest proportion of one species gets eliminated. Provided you like the way things are at the moment, more or less, such stable equilibria are a desirable environmental characteristic. They allow you to effect moderate changes in what is going on, without needing to worry too much about profoundly unbalancing your surroundings.

Unstable equilibria

Of course, such systems can be pushed beyond their bounds. Here, think about a vending machine being tipped. Up to a certain critical point, it will totter back to its original position when you release it. Beyond that point, it will continue to fall over, even if the original force being exerted upon it is discontinued. Both the vertical and horizontal positions of the vending machine are stable equilibria, though we would probably prefer the former to the latter. For a biological example, you might think of a forested hillside. Take a few trees, wait a few years, and the situation will probably be much like when you began. If you cut down enough trees to lose all the topsoil to erosion, however, you might come back in many decades and still find an ecosystem radically different from the one you started off with.

Multiple equilibria

The last important consideration are the number of systems where there are a very great many equilibrium options. One patch of ocean could contain a complex ecosystem, with many different trophic levels and a complex combination of energy pathways. Alternatively, it could feature a relative small number of species. The idea that we can turn the first into the second, through over-fishing, and then expect things to return to how they were at the outset demonstrates some of the fallacious thinking about equilibria in environmental planning.

The trouble with the climate is that it isn’t like a vending machine, in that you can feel the effect your pushing is having on it and pretty clearly anticipate what is going to happen next. Firstly, that is because there are internal balances that make things trickier. It is as though there are all sorts of pendulums and gyroscopes inside the machine, making its movements in response to any particular push unpredictable. Secondly, we are not the only thing pushing on the machine. There are other exogenous properties like solar and orbital variations that may be acting in addition to our exertions, in opposition to them, or simply in parallel. Those forces are likely to change in magnitude both over the course or regular cycles and progressively over the course of time.

How, then, do we decide how much pushing the machine can take? This is the same question posed, in more economic terms, when we speculate about damage curves.

Presenting science

When thinking about the social roles of scientists, it is helpful when they come out and speak on the subject directly. As such, an article in the BBC headlines feed for today is interesting. Basically, it is about some scientists who feel that it is both misleading and a tactical error to play up the catastrophic possibilities of climate change. One, Professor Paul Hardaker from the Royal Meteorological Society, argues:

“I think we do have to be careful as scientists not to overstate the case because it does damage the credibility of the many other things that we have greater certainty about,” he said.

“We have to stick to what the science is telling us; and I don’t think making that sound more sensational, or more sexy, because it gets us more newspaper columns, is the right thing for us to be doing.

“We have to let the science argument win out.”

The first thing to note about this is the implicit position that it is up to scientists to actively tune what they say to the audience they are addressing. This is done for the explicit reason of retaining “credibility” and thus influence. What is suggested, furthermore, is that scientists basically know what is to be done (even if that is more research, for the moment) and that they should be saying the right things in public to keep things on the right track.

Of course, science cannot tell us how much risk we want to bear. While runaway climate change – driven by methane release, for example – may not be a probable outcome, the very fact that it is possible may be sufficient to justify expensive preventative measures. Science can likewise tell us what areas and groups are most likely to be affected, but hardly requires one or another course of action in response. Bjorn Lomborg has famously argued that general increases in foreign aid are the best thing the developed world can do for the developing world, so that the latter will be richer by the time the major effects of climate change manifest themselves.

The position of scientists is a somewhat paradoxical one. In the first place, their influence is founded upon their supposedly superior ability to access and understand the world. Their credibility relies upon being relatively neutral reporters of fact. When they begin dealing with data at the kind of second-order level embodied in the above quotation, they are seeking to increase their influence in a way that can only diminish the original source of their legitimacy. In an area like the environment this is inevitable, but it does render invalid the idea that science, in and of itself, can guide us.

Linear model, a worthwhile aspiration?

If there is one thing my thesis has ended up being about, it is how the linear model of science-based policy-making is wrong. We do not move chronologically through a scientific process – isolated from politics – into a political process based on neutral scientific fact. Additionally, the policies that are adopted always have moral assumptions embedded in them, as well as normative consequences.

One issue that remains is whether our descriptive criticism of the linear model logically extends to it not being something to which we should aspire. Acknowledging that politics affects science doesn’t necessarily mean that we shouldn’t combat that, to such an extent we can. Administrations that have twisted science too far have often ended up looking silly for it (See Litfin). Likewise, while it is clear that various actors use scientific facts and arguments to advance their own agendas, it doesn’t necessarily follow that we should abandon aspirations towards the relatively neutral and balanced presentation of information. By way of comparison, think about adherence to the scientific method. While actual scientific practice doesn’t always follow the ideals of neutrality and objectivity as it should, that doesn’t mean that we should abandon those ideals.

The question, then, is whether the actual processes of science and politics are so far from this ideal that it isn’t even a useful guide for aspirational purposes, or whether we should persist in trying to apply such rationalist approaches.

C.G. Rapley on climate change

The Earthwatch Institute lecture tonight was an educational experience, for a whole slew of reasons. I learned a lot about the organization, the talk itself was very well done, and I spoke with some unusually interesting people.

Earthwatch is a slick organization: corporate partnerships, wine receptions before and after talks given at the business school, and a 153-page full-colour glossy book distributed in a ‘treat bag’ to each attendee at the end. This all gives a really interesting glimpse into the world of relationships between private actors. These people aren’t lobbying the state, they are engaging with the scientific and business communities, along with individuals inclined towards certain concerns. Anyone who thinks that regulating carbon emissions is a matter for the leftist fringe should probably meet these people. In the ecosystem of contemporary international actors, they are an unusual species, worthy of further study.

The talk was given by Professor C.G. Rapley, the Director of the British Antarctic Survey. He was well chosen: articulate, funny, and capable of presenting technical material in an engaging and highly effective way. That this is an outset of an international polar year made the choice particularly timely. My transcript of the talk is available on the wiki.

Perhaps the most unusual thing he said – his greatest deviation from the Stern-Gore Axis – was the suggestion that we could (and should) jump-start the demographic transition. This is is transition from high birth and death rates, to massively lowered death rates (due to medicine, agriculture, etc), through massive population growth to the eventual lowering of birth rates and stabilization of the population overall. Rapley alleged that 76m unwanted pregnancies occur each year, worldwide. Giving these people effective contraception and social orders in which they can use it could accomplish a number of good things: he focused on the reduction of future emissions and a reduced push towards urbanization. Of course, the politics of birth control are fiendishly complex, and the possibilities for harm considerable. That said, a world where women have more control over how many children they have would, all other things being equal, be a much better one. Rapley seems to have written more on population for the BBC.

My thanks to all those – both employees of Earthwatch and fellow guests – with whom I spoke at the receptions. Altogether, this evening has reinforced my conception that climate change is the single greatest challenge facing the world today. It has also bolstered my hope that it is something that we can overcome.

No Mercator projection

Grabbed from Metafilter, this page of maps distorted to show relative rates of things like military spending is quite interesting. Unsurprisingly, the map of war and death is especially grotesque.

Some higher resolution versions are over at Worldmapper: by total population, landmine casualties, and wealth (per capita).

Looking at these, one is immediately struck by how heterogeneous the world is. Of course, we all knew that before, but seeing the information in a new way can change one’s perception of it quite a bit. While there is the danger of such data being misleading, I would say it counters the greater danger of extrapolating from personal experience. Aggregated statistics, while not perfect, are a lot better than on-the-fly human intuitions, when it comes to assessing massive problems quite beyond the scope of anyone’s personal experience.

Of group sizes and word counts

Lincoln College, Oxford

According to Malcolm Gladwell, something fundamental happens to human organizations once they grow beyond 150 people. This is called Dunbar’s Number. If you take the size of a primate’s neocortex, relative to the rest of its brain, you will find a close correlation to the expected maximum group size for that species.1 This number corresponds to village sizes, as seen around the world, to the sizes of effective military units, and to the size at which Hutterite communities split up. It seems that, above this size, organizations require complex hierarchies, rules, regulations, and formal measures to operate efficiently.

I think that something very similar happens to pieces of academic writing, once they get beyond about 5,000 words. That is the point where my ability to hold the entire thing at once in my mind fails, often leading to duplication and confusion. Even with two levels of sub-divisions, things simply become unmanageable at that point and I go from feeling total control over a piece of writing (2,500 words) to feeling that it has sprawled a bit (3-4,000 words) to feeling rather daunted by the whole thing. With my revised second chapter at 5,700 words and three to seven hours left prior to submission, I am certainly feeling as though things have grown beyond the bounds of good sense and comprehensibility.

[1] Gladwell, Malcolm. The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference. Back Bay Books; New York, 2000. p.179

Who watch him lest himself should rob / The prison of its prey

In case anyone doubts that the War on Terror creates situations straight out of Kafka, reading this article from The Guardian is in order. Sabbir Ahmed, a British citizen, was held in a detention centre for nearly two months because officials thought he was Pakistani and wanted to deport him there. He couldn’t prove that he was British because his passport was in his London flat and they offered him no other means by which to prove that he was, in fact, born in Blackburn as the son of two other British citizens.

He ought to be receiving some pretty heavy compensation, and high level apologies and/or sackings, for this kind of massive incompetence. Of course, this also speaks of institutional racism. Frances Pilling, chairwoman of the charity Bail for Immigration Detainees, said: “They chose not to pursue any avenue of investigation at all.” If he had been white and named John Brown, they might have accepted that he was from Blackburn after calling the Passport Office, or even some people there who would vouch for him.

It goes to show, yet again, that we have more to fear from government than from terrorists.

A disappointing presentation

If it had been an intellectual argument, Professor Timothy Luke‘s presentation on climate change tonight might have been subject to some strong criticism. As it was, it was essentially a smug collection of sniping ad hominem arguments directed at Al Gore, Nicholas Stern, and the concept of liberal environmentalism generally. He made clear that he holds these people in contempt – using a mocking tone of voice while quoting their work – but never really explained why, beyond some vague suggestions that ‘ecopopulism’ would be superior, and how the powerful and the plutocratic are aligned to remain in control. The idea that grassroots organizations will somehow directly access environmental science, then manifest their new preferences through the popular alteration of the political dialog seems rather unlikely. While you can certainly engage in argument with knowledge brokers like Nicholas Stern and Al Gore (starting that argument is much of the point of their work), simply attacking them for being part of existing governmental and economic systems carries little water.

One can hardly expect leaders of politics and industry to abandon their power and the standard economic system. That is especially true when you don’t seem to have any well-formed idea about what the alternative might be. By nor following up his scorn with substance, Professor Luke left us with little value for our time.

Chapter two, second version

I have been thinking about how to incorporate the general ideas from this post into the revised and clarified version of my second chapter, upon which I am now working. It seems that there are three axes across which environmental problems can be assessed: predictability, intentionality, and desirability. Of these, the third is most likely to have different values for different actors.

The mine tailings example is certainly intentional, for it is an inescapable and obvious product of mining activity. The predictability score depends on the status of knowledge about the health and ecological consequences of particular tailings at the time when they were released into the environment. Here, there is also a discussion to be had about the extent to which an actor engaged in something that could well have ecological or health consequences is morally obligated to investigate what those may be. There are also questions about whether private actors are merely obliged to follow the law, or whether they need to act upon moral considerations with which the law has not explicitly saddled them.

On the matter of desirability, the range includes possibilities of utility gain, indifference, and loss. The mining company probably has an indifferent or unfavourable view of tailings: if they could be avoided for moderate cost, they would be. This is certainly true now that the consequences of certain tailings are known and legal and moral obligations on the part of such companies are fairly well entrenched. A more interesting possibility is environmental change that increases the utility of some, while diminishing that of others. This could happen both with intentional acts (say, building a dam) or unintentional ones (the unintended introduction of a species into a new area).

In any event, the new plan is to boil the introductory portion of the chapter down until it is only about 1000 words long. Then, I will write 2500 words each on the case studies, and 1000 words in concluding comments. Most of the existing commentary will be migrated into the case study sections. The best way to do all of this is probably to re-write from scratch, then import and vital elements and citations from the old version. A similar chapter model can be adopted for the third and fourth chapters and, since most of the research being done covers all three, they should prove reasonably easy to write once it is done.

[Update: 3 March 2007] I now feel confident that the version of the chapter to be submitted tomorrow, four days late, will be enormously superior to what could have been submitted on time. This owes much to the new books I got at the Geography and Environment Library. Those with restricted wiki access can have a look at the emerging draft.