Article
Climate
Comment
Sustainability
5 min read

What “drill baby drill” really means for the world’s poor

Climate jargon pales in comparison to hard, hot and harsh realities.

Jane Cacouris is a writer and consultant working in international development on environment, poverty and livelihood issues.

forest tree-tops break a mist.
Forest in Cameroon.
Edouard Tamba on Unsplash.

“Drill, baby, drill,” declared Donald Trump during his inauguration speech in January to roars of Republican approval, going on to sign executive orders to “unleash” the American oil and gas industry to do just that: drill. This, even though the United States is already the largest crude oil producer of any other nation, according to its own Energy Information Administration, and has been for the past six years in a row. 

Fossil fuel combustion is undeniably the largest source of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide says the IPCC, with oil accounting for about 34 per cent of global CO2 emissions from fossil fuels. And World Economic Forum statistics show that the lowest income countries produce only one-tenth of emissions but are the most heavily impacted by climate change.  

Something doesn’t seem very fair here.  

Many of us are aware of the statistics and policies and rhetoric around climate change. It is all buzzing around in the background of our lives, in the news, on social media and in opinion pieces like this one. But if we’re honest, it is all still theory for most of us living in the Global North.  

On a recent work assignment, involving research in remote communities in Southern Cameroon, I found the true extent of climate crisis is hard hitting and very real. According to the IMF, Cameroon is ranked 16th in the world in terms of countries most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, partly due to its geographical location. 

High levels of rural poverty and the country’s economic dependence on agriculture, which employs over 70 per cent of the population adds to this climate vulnerability. But the government statistics and climate jargon, worrying as it is, paled as I discovered the reality of rural Cameroonians’ lives. Lives that depend almost solely on the productivity of the land, and therefore on the weather. Lives that have no Plan B when the climate is unpredictable.  

The communities we studied live in rural villages many kilometres from any urban centre, and rely entirely on natural resources for their livelihoods. They depend on traditional rain-fed agriculture, hunting for bush meat, and collecting non-timber forest products such as tropical fruits, insects, medicinal plants, herbs and honey from the dense forests near their dwellings to survive.  

The effects of the changing climate have been felt by them for some time. During periods of water scarcity, which is becoming more unpredictable and prolonged, local streams dry up, meaning crop yields fail, such as corn, groundnuts and cassava, and families go hungry. Fishing yields dwindle. The work burden for women rises, as they have to travel further to collect water for drinking, washing and cooking. Poor roads with inaccessible tracks during heavy rain events, or non-existent roads, prevent communities from accessing markets, health care and external support, making them isolated and more vulnerable to climate impacts. 

With the science predicting rising future temperatures and higher seasonal variability in their region, these communities will only become more vulnerable, mirroring the story of millions of other people around the world. They must adapt to survive. The alternative is not surviving. Devastatingly, this is a very possible future outcome.  

I’d say the UK is standing on the side lines in the playground, looking on.  

Why should wealthy, powerful nations mostly responsible for global carbon emissions, not only refuse to compensate those at the receiving end of resulting climate change, but actively seek to cause more damage? It echoes of a bully in a school playground, inflicting suffering on a smaller child, gaining in popularity, power and self-confidence as a few egg them on, others stand by, whilst the receiver of the abuse summons all their remaining strength simply to survive and make it through another day.  

So where does the United Kingdom stand in the playground?  

In terms of domestic climate policy, the UK must meet net zero by 2050, in line with the target set out in UK legislation, i.e. in twenty-five years from now, total greenhouse gas (GHG) territorial emissions must be equal to the emissions removed from the atmosphere. On paper, it seems the UK is on track to achieve this. GHG emissions have halved since 1990, driven by investing in renewable power and phasing out coal in the electricity sector. However, as WWF and others have pointed out, this figure has a glaring omission. Products including clothing, processed foods and electronics imported into the UK are counted as the “manufacturing country’s emissions,” not the UK’s. This is known as “offshoring.” And according to WWF, between 1990 and 2016, emissions within the UK’s borders reduced by 41 per cent, but the consumption-based carbon footprint only declined by 15 per cent, mainly due to goods and services coming from abroad.  

In terms of climate finance for the world’s poorest nations, the UK pledged to spend £11.6 billion between 2021 and 2026, and the government recently said it remains committed to meet this pledge. However, the pot from which this climate finance must come, the UK’s overseas aid budget, was slashed in recent months from 0.5 per cent to 0.3 per cent of national income to prioritise defence spending. Meanwhile, climate experts and charities are warning that what the world needs now is stronger global solidarity in the face of the climate crisis, rather than national self-interest. I’d say the UK is standing on the side lines in the playground, looking on.   

Trump professes to be a practicing Christian… I wonder what would Jesus have to say about the way America and other wealthy nations have dealt with the climate crisis? One of Jesus’ most well-known and powerful teachings was to love your neighbour. The parable of the Good Samaritan in the Bible demonstrates the way we should treat our neighbours; acting with love, compassion and mercy, not only towards those we know or who live in our friendship network, community or country, but towards every human being, regardless of nationality, background or social group. In the context of climate change, Christians are called to love our global neighbours. This includes supporting the world’s poorest communities to thrive, speaking up on their behalf, demonstrating love through political and social action. Jesus certainly doesn’t teach us to put ourselves “first.”  

Imagine a world where every nation signed up to Jesus’ teaching on how to treat our neighbours. Would climate change abruptly halt, human suffering stop and global peace prevail? In truth, probably not, because humanity is imperfect and we get things wrong even when we mean well. But if the intention was there, and if world leaders looked to Jesus’ lead on this, there is little doubt we would be many steps closer.  

Celebrate our 2nd birthday!

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief

Article
Comment
Digital
Football
Sport
6 min read

Fed up with today’s football? Blame this passion killer

How the beautiful game became boring

Sam Tomlin is a Salvation Army officer, leading a local church in Liverpool where he lives with his wife and children.

An AI image of apathetic football players being watched by dis-spirited fans.
Nick Jones/Midjourney AI.

The football season has begun. And with it, the usual rigmarole of adverts, fantasy football and over-priced shirts. But this season has a slightly different feel to it. Perhaps it is the obscene - and record - amount of money that was spent in the transfer window (benefitting the biggest clubs), or the sour taste of the Isak saga between Newcastle and Liverpool.

Or maybe there is just a malaise with the game that has been growing for years and is now perceptible just below the surface. Friends and family tell me they have lost interest in football, echoing the words of former Chelsea and England player John Terry who recently made headlines by lambasting the state of the modern game as ‘boring’ . The tendency for one team to defend while a more technically gifted and drilled team tries to break them down means ‘You don't see many shots,’ according to Terry. 

His thoughts reminded me of comments made by pundit Gary Neville a couple of months ago after a dull 0-0 draw between Manchester United and Manchester City: 

‘This robotic nature of not leaving our positions, being micro-managed within an inch of our lives, not having any freedom to take a risk to go and try and win a football match is becoming an illness in the game'. 

Neville and Terry are referring to the style of play inaugurated by Manchester City manager Pep Guardiola who has undoubtedly revolutionized how football is played in the last decade. The style is geared towards complete control and domination, ironing out any potential errors and minimising risk. It is statistics and data driven, with managers and coaching staff constantly looking at iPads during matches and clubs employing data analysts. 

This strategy has of course been wildly successful for Man City in recent years. I don’t think these former players are contesting these remarkable achievements or that this style of football can’t be inspiring and entertaining when executed by players at the top of their game. But because it has become such a dominant way of playing, worse players and teams feel that they have no option but to mimic it. The result is often a boring game with neither team willing to take risks as they are desperate to keep possession. Just look at popular memes comparing wingers from 20 years ago putting crosses in the box compared to simply passing backwards.

Liam Manning, the former manager of my team, Bristol City, very much models himself on this data-driven Guardiola style. Tellingly, one of his catchphrases in interviews refers to ‘taking the passion out of the game’. By this he means ensuring that players keep cool heads and stick to the game plan - but I wonder if he inadvertently betrays the philosophy Neville and Tarry rail against: it is passionless, soulless and mechanical, less open to moments of surprise and unexpected brilliance. 

To put my cards on the table, I agree wholeheartedly with Neville. Modern football in my estimation has changed beyond recognition even from the 90s when I grew up. While I cannot deny that some of this has been for the better – stadia safety and decrease in hooliganism for instance – I lament the introduction of VAR and its flawed search for objectivity, the replacement of stadia rooted in the heart of the communities which gave rise to them with soulless bowls located outside of town and the expense that often prices poorer fans out of the game. 

Are Neville, Terry and I just hopeless Luddites longing for a past that would inevitably pass away, or is there a deeper philosophical point to all of this? Perhaps. The French Christian thinker Jacques Ellul (1912-1994) critiqued modernity’s propensity to seek ever more efficiency no matter the cost. The French word he gave to this was ‘technique.’ While this is often translated simply as ‘technology,’ it is wider and deeper than this. He describes it as ‘the totality of methods rationally arrived at and having absolute efficiency (for a given stage of development) in every field of activity.’ 

In a ‘technological society,’ efficiency rather than creativity, beauty or freedom becomes the norm. It is not hard to see this all around us as we scan our shopping on machines to minimise time-consuming personal interaction, use our pocket computers to organise our lives and dominate our attention all the while we do not know our neighbours’ names. Most Western institutions, the systems of business, politics and morality (and perhaps now football?) have been consumed by this system. 

Technique, according to Ellul, is not any one person or group’s fault, but develops its own internal and de-humanising logic which will never reach its goal as it searches forever greater efficiency:  

‘proceeding at its own tempo, technique analyses its objects so that it can reconstitute them; in the case of man, it has analyzed him and synthesized a hitherto unknown being.’  

But the spiritual consequence of technique is a flattened and banal account of human life, desacralizing the world. ‘Technique denies mystery a priori. The mysterious is merely that which has not yet been technicized… Nothing belongs any longer to the realm of god or the supernatural. The individual who lives in the technical milieu knows very well that there is nothing sacred anywhere… He therefore transfers his sense of the sacred to the very thing which has destroyed its former object: to technique itself.’  

There is a clear parallel here with the principalities and powers the Apostle Paul warns against in the Bible: ‘For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.’ 

What is the antidote to technique in football and elsewhere in life? It is tempting to collapse into a fatalism assuming the march of technical and de-humanising efficiency is unstoppable. Ellul acknowledges the potency of technique but suggests that the greatest weapons against its totalising control are both an awareness and consciousness of its methods and consequently a certain conception of freedom which will willingly not conform to its pattern. ‘Freedom is completely without meaning unless it is related to necessity, unless it represents a victory over necessity… We must not think of the problem in terms of a choice between being determined and being free. We must look at it dialectally, and say that man is indeed determined, but that it is open to him to overcome necessity, and that this act is freedom.’ 

In footballing terms this might be seen in an enigmatic figure like Khvicha Kvaratskhelia who seems to belong to another era and whose national team Georgia lit up Euro 2024 with their fearless and free flowing play, or by supporters applauding players who take greater risks even if they do not come off. In life in general this might be expressed through consciously avoiding the ‘necessity’ of efficiency: like choosing to do things more slowly like queueing at a supermarket checkout rather than using the automated machine, or walking to rather than driving where possible.  

For Ellul and Christians, however, the ultimate liberation from enslaving systems comes in the form of a God revealed in Jesus Christ, who lives a life wholly free from such slavery and takes upon himself the debt and weight enslaved humans hope to escape on their own. As Paul puts in another one of his letters: ‘It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by the yoke of slavery.’ 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief