The High Price of Doing Nothing

I am sitting in my kitchen, with my favorite, toasty sweater on, a cup of warm tea, listening to the rain come steadily down.

Ordinarily, this is not remarkable for a mid-October day (except maybe for the fact that I am at home!). But this year has been anything but ordinary. As the fires rage in California, we have been experiencing 70 and 80 degree days here, our reservoirs dangerously low, our lawns dry as a bone. Blue skies, green leafy canopies, low humidity, short-sleeve comfort, evening cricket serenades and outdoor jogging weather should not be reasons to complain. But they are when they occur in mid-October. This time should be about vibrant foliage, damp piles of browned and oranged leaves, people cuddling in jackets and sweaters and maybe even scarves.

Whereas once we might have thought of this year as an anomaly, it is more likely we should name it the beginning of a new climate for the mid-Altantic states. Already the growing season is lengthening a bit, bird migration patterns are changing, ocean temperatures are warming.

Tomorrow is here.

Ten years or so ago, we might have been able to speak of averting climate change. Today, our rhetoric must change. We have two different goals:

1) limiting climate change, and
2) adapting to climate change.

Even as we continue to fight for lower CO2 emissions, simpler lifestyles, and less consumerism, we must also put our energies into planning for adapting to the changes we cannot stop.

The lesson to be learned is this: the more we act now, even with present-day costs and expenses, the less it will cost us overall. Let us build efficient buildings now - to make them viable, affordable and livable in the future. And let us begin to put a price tag on accommodating those displaced and disoriented due to climate change. As we respond, compassionately, let's do the math. Then we will see how unaffordable doing nothing really is.