Protesters who vandalise our heritage make climate change a divisive issue. But when it comes to the environment, we all win or we all lose, says Frances Lasok
When we are under pressure, our hands start shaking and our mind goes blank. That’s because when we’re scared our bodies flood with the chemicals necessary to run – an evolutionary response that dates back to the African savanna. It’s great for escaping a cheetah, but it’s bad for slow, considered thought: our retention of an instinct vital in prehistory can work against our best interests today.
For an advanced species we operate on primal instincts, and no-one knows this better than persuasion professionals. Back on the savanna, our survival rested on being part of a group that protects its own. We’ve kept that psychology and are more likely to support or help others if we identify with them. That’s why, all other things being equal, we’ll make sacrifices to benefit the collective. When we undertake an activity like voting, recycling or walking to work to save the planet, it doesn’t make sense from a self-interested perspective: we’re incurring a cost to do something that will be individually insignificant and only effective if everyone takes part. We did the same in lockdown, and public trust buckled not at the height of the restrictions, but when the perception was that those at the top hadn’t followed the rules. We will undertake major sacrifices for the sake of the group if we think they are necessary, fair and that we’re in it together.
There are some issues in politics that are inevitably tribal because they benefit one group and disadvantage another: removing the triple-lock on pensions requires pensioners giving up something for tax paying workers to benefit. Some culture-war issues are the same: your view on Victorian statues and heritage is likely to be informed by how much you feel cultural heritage works for you. But there are other questions that should unite us into one tribe, where the costs and benefits are automatically shared. One of those was Covid, wartime is another. And a third is climate change. On environmental issues, we all win or we all lose.
But tribal shortcuts can also lead us astray. We can’t be subject matter experts on everything, so we rely on the group to guide us and make assumptions based on group behaviour. What are people who share my values doing? What are the people I trust saying? How are the people like me acting? Those values will determine what we do, whether we recycle, vote or walk to work in the first place. When Just Stop Oil vandalise a painting or stop a commuter train, they broadcast a message that the environment is something cared about by those who don’t have to worry about paying the bills, and that environmental policies are luxury purchases like a £1,000 Mulberry bag. It’s a powerful and unintentional message: don’t vote for environmental issues because they are not for people like you. Another wedge is the narrative around Ulez. Those most affected by poor air quality live in city centres where public transport is readily available, but for those in the suburbs, £12 a day to take the kids to an after-school club is a killer.
Our collective instinct is incredibly powerful. We saw that during Covid, and we should employ the same instinct on environmental policies. That means using policies that incentivise rather than punish, and unite rather than split, and focus on the collective challenge. It means resisting the urge to drive cultural wedges. Because for as long as we all breathe the same air, we are in it together.
Frances Lasok is a freelance writer