Of Glaciers and Grief

If you have recently lost someone dear to you, read this book. If you are troubled by climate change and the glacial speed with which the human race is facing this calamity, read this book. If you love the planet and want to feel realistically inspired, rallied and ready to do your part to promote climate change action, read this book. 

For all of the above, or if you simply want to read a well-written book by someone who knows the science and has an eloquently expressive command of English, read this book.

I came across it by accident (if there are such accidents) while searching for something else entirely. The title intrigued me. The Foreword by Bill McKibben and the opening chapter lured me in. 

You see, I have recently lost my mother, and for over a year now I have been living in this rather odd bubble world of grief and longing, overcome with nostalgia to return to a time before she was diagnosed with cancer and before my life and my father's life were irrevocably changed. I have been changed by this loss and I am only now just grasping a sense of how much I have changed. 

Reading M Jackson's account of how she experienced grief - twice, with the loss of both a mother and a father in a relatively short space of time - has made me realize that I am not alone in these feelings, that this is grief - a strange landscape that is hard to negotiate and a state of mind that is often irrational, where uncertainty, indecisiveness and self-doubt become your norm. 

I am also grieving for the planet. I am not a geologist or a climate scientist, but I am an environmentalist and a wetland steward. I love nature and I deplore the way in which big business, governments at all levels and a great many of my fellow humans have sidelined earth health and humanity's well-being for their own greed and continuance.

I sit squarely in M. Jackson's camp, therefore. I feel the intense grief of personal loss at the moment as well as an intense grief for our larger losses on Planet Earth, from species extinctions to melting ice caps. I ache and mourn and despair in ways I never have before. 

But this book has been good for me, despite being one of the more difficult reads in recent memory. It has helped me to identify grief for what it is and to be aware that we cannot allow grief to prevent us from picking up the pieces and moving forward. 

This we must do if we are to have any hope of stopping a coming catastrophe of planetary proportions. It is necessary to grieve, but we cannot throw our hands up in despair and do nothing. M Jackson urges us on - even as we feel sorrow and fear - to act, to advocate, to find solutions. As she warns, we are well past the point of relying on energy-efficient light bulbs alone to solve this. We must free ourselves from grief's paralyzing grip and face the future head on. 

Most days, lately, I feel that I am living in, as the writer describes, "a world no longer built on good will." Despite this, daily events in my life do remind me that there is hope, that as a species "even when we are most beleaguered, we are still capable of making this world a better place."

If any of these words resonate with you, either about grief or about climate change, find this book. Read it thoughtfully and slowly. Mark the passages that speak to you. Let her words lead you to a place where you can pause, take solace and wonder at the beauty of our living world. Maybe only when we feel intense love and fear its loss do we act. Hopefully, enough of us will feel encouraged to act rather than despair, because we need to act very, very soon. 

To purchase or to learn more:
http://greenwriterspress.com/books/spring-2015-books/while-glaciers-slept-being-human-in-a-time-of-climate-change/

Summer Reading Suggestion

Language ..."is not merely a set of grammatical rules or a vocabulary. It is a flash of the human spirit, the vehicle by which the soul of each particular culture comes into the material world. Every language is an old-growth forest of the mind, a watershed of thought, an ecosystem of spiritual possibilities."

Wade Davis

Anthropologist, Author, Explorer

Speak Out For Nature and Democracy in Canada

Recommended Winter Reading: Blessed Unrest

Five years on and this is still a most timely comment on how “people power” could really change the world—and save the planet.

Published in 2007, Paul Hawken’s Blessed Unrest may have been pushed to the back of your brain by the sheer number of books flooding the market every year since, but as Bill McKibben rightly identified, “Nothing you read for years to come will fill you with more hope and more determination."

Mid-decade, Hawken noted a groundswell of unrest and resistance rising from the bottom up ( think Occupy!) and pointed proudly to a new fierceness (his word!) in the world, not in the sense of ferocity but in the sense of determination — determination to stand up, speak out, and demand accountability, transparency, truth and justice from the power élite —   the corporations and the governments that collude with them.

So why are millions of people taking a stand for social justice and environmental justice around the world and across social media platforms? Because it’s hardwired into our genes: We fight because we love and we hope.

I’m a little late to the party too, in the sense that I did not get around to reading this book until only recently. So if you have not yet read Blessed Unrest, now’s a good time. It inspires courage and promotes hopefulness. We have a fighting chance, Hawken says, but only if we work together, for each other and for the well-being of our planet:

“The insanity of human destructiveness may be matched by an older grace and intelligence that is fastening us together  in ways we have never before seen or imagined.”

 “To come together we must know our place in a biological and cultural sense, and reclaim our role as as engaged agents of our continued existence.”

“We became human by working together and helping one another. According to immunologist Gerald Callahan, faith and love are literally buried in our gene and lympocytes, and what it takes to arrest our descent into chaos is one person after another remembering who and where they really are.”

Shift Your Perspective And Be The Change

In each crisis, we are told, there is opportunity, and humanity is going to be facing some major crises, no question. Already we are seeing the convergence of disturbing economic and environmental issues. Human population is growing as our resources are diminishing. World peace seems ever-elusive. Terrorism, food security, climate change, global corporatism, unprecedented levels of species extinction...

Yes, 2012 is poised to be a pivotal year, but not for those misguided misinterpretations of the Mayan calendar...however, we cannot discount the seriousness our situation.

Laszlo's book is an urgent appeal and a call to action. A declaration for planetary consciousness. We will need to be smarter, more creative, more responsible and more accountable in the years ahead. So let's start now. The sooner the better.

Laszlo outlines the three "unsustainabilities" - ecological, economic, social - and proceeds to discuss how we can take action to create conscious change, through various levels of activism  - civic, media, business and personal.

Definitely worth a read, and a timely read too.

May 2012 be a year of enlightenment and positive change.

Peace & Joy to all.

Shaking the Watchman's Rattle...

means sounding the alarm...

"A Rattler is any individual willing to sound the alarm. Whether the threat comes in the form of terrorism, obesity, deteriorating education, nuclear proliferation, overfishing the oceans or climate change, Rattlers bring people together to overcome adversity and to effect long-lasting change."

The Watchman's Rattle

Coming to a Democracy Near You

Another book recommendation from my shelf...

This is not just a lament for his own nation, America, this is a warning for all nations, all democracies that become "chained to the flickering shadows of celebrity culture, the spectacle of the arena and the airwaves, the lies of advertising, the endless personal dramas, many of them completely fictional, that have become the staples of news, celebrity gossip, New Age mysticism, and pop psychology."

Fair warning, Canada, we are not immune. The world is about to become one very large corporate state. Indeed, it already is...

More from Chris Hedges' brilliant, unflinching examination of a mass culture that has relinquished thoughtfulness and truth for illusion and entertainment:

The rise of the corporate state has grave political consequences, as we saw in Italy and Germany in the early part of the twentieth century. Antitrust laws not only regulate and control the marketplace. They also serve as bulwarks to protect democracy. And now that they are gone, now that we have a state run by and on behalf of corporations, we must expect inevitable and terrifying consequences.

As the pressure mounts, as this despair and impoverishment reach into larger and larger segments of the populace, the mechanisms of corporate and government control are being bolstered to prevent civil unrest and instability. The emergence of the corporate state always means the emergence of the security state.

The more we sever ourselves from a literate, print-based world, a world of complexity and nuance, a world of ideas, for one informed by comforting, reassuring images, fantasies, slogans, celebrities, and a lust for violence, the more we are destined to implode.

This book reveals just how deep the rot goes, and how, in a very real sense, we are currently living in a frightening global dystopia, the "brave new world" that early 20th century thinkers and writers presaged all those decades ago.

We, individual human beings as well as individual communities and nations, lose the power to control our destinies when we relinquish our birthright to think freely and to examine clearly, to analyze and to determine for ourselves what is right and wrong.

I am thinking now of Orwell, Huxley, and others. I was very young when I first began reading dystopian literature, but for the most part I've held onto a healthy trust in humanity and remained optimistic for our collective future, believing that those totalitarian scenarios could or would never come to pass, not after the lessons learned from the World Wars and the Holocaust.

How naive. Hedges' books articulate and document what has been systematically playing out over the course of the last few decades, revving into high gear in the 80s, when our leaders were pushing NAFTA and Free Trade - our power has been slyly wrested from us, and all the while we have allowed ourselves to be dazzled and entertained...

From my Shelf

Another year is winding down, so it seems like a good time to reflect on the books I've been reading these past eleven months. Not all of the books I read in 2011 were published in 2011. This isn't really a review of "new releases" then. Work keeps me busy, so I'm often late to the party as it were, and my reading wish list seems only to grow longer, never shorter. However, these books, I guarantee, are timely and relevant.

I've chosen only a few to feature, but they are so critically important to understanding the times in which we live that I feel compelled to talk about them every chance I get. I'm sure I drive my friends crazy.

So rather than a long-winded commentary from me, I'd prefer to let the authors speak for themselves. I'll just include a passage or two from each book. Maybe the quoted material will entice you to read more. There's also plenty on the Net about each one of them.

I'll start with Chris Hedges: Death of the Liberal Class, published in 2010.

In a traditional democracy, the liberal class functions as a safety valve. It makes piecemeal and incremental reform possible. It offers hope for change and proposes gradual steps toward greater equality. But the assault by the corporate state on the democratic state has claimed the liberal class as one of its victims.

….

The belief that we can make things happen through positive thoughts, by visualizing, by wanting them, by tapping into our inner strength, or by understanding that we our truly exceptional, is peddled to us by all aspects of the culture, from Oprah to the Christian Right. It is magical thinking. We can always make more money, meet new quotas, consume more products, and advance our careers. This magical thinking, this idea that human and personal progress is somehow inevitable, leads to political passivity. It permits societies to transfer their emotional allegiance to the absurd―whether embodied in professional sports or in celebrity culture―and ignore real problems. It exacerbates despair. It keeps us in a state of mass self-delusion.

Occupy Your Life

I support the Occupy movement. Period. It's about taking our world back, one person, one community at a time, not with violence but rather with awareness, intelligence, ethics and hope - hope that a grassroots movement can catch on. But for a groundswell of change to catch on, a lot of eyes have to be opened, a lot of minds changed.

A good way to start the process for yourself is with Douglas Rushkoff's book, Life, Inc. It will give you a succinct (but never simplistic) history of how corporatism came to take over the world, and indeed our lives.

If you want an intelligent, informed understanding of what has really prompted and propelled the Occupy movement and why it is so important right now, then please read this book, if you haven't already. If you have, pass it on. Tell others. This book is not a rant, not a diatribe. It is a passionate yet reasoned summary that tells us why we must be very worried and why, in many ways, it might already be too late.

But despair is not an option. To Occupy the World we must first Occupy our Minds and by Occupying our Minds, we begin to take back Our Lives.

One enlightened, defiant person at a time.

Ruminations on Earth Day, Then and Now

Back in 1970 when the first Earth Day was declared, the flower children still walked the streets of San Francisco barefoot, spreading peace, love and good will. Even so, it wasn’t all sweetness and sunshine for the Gaians. Earth Day was largely viewed with some suspicion by a moral majority who thought the status quo was “just so” thank you very much. At the Continental Congress of the Daughters of the American Revolution in Washington that week, a delegate from Mississippi, evidently equating environmentalists with communists, declared: "Subversive elements plan to make American children live in an environment that is good for them."

That seems laughable now, but never fear, there still exists today an extreme right-wing faction that not only dismisses the environmental movement as a fanatical fringe of bunny lovers and tree huggers, they do it gleefully and belligerently, both in front of the media and from within the media on a regular basis. We know who they are. Naming them only gives them more attention, more power. So let’s not.

Cue the enlightenment, then fast forward to Earth Day 2011 and generally you will find that the eco movement has grown and gained purchase. We are legion, but we still have a long way to go. We’ve made some progress; we’ve lost some ground. We have to put up with corporate greenwashing for one thing. In a way, the latter could be construed as a sign of our success. So much has public perception changed during the intervening decades on matters such as water and air pollution, waste disposal and energy consumption that the corporate powers that be decided they had better put a green face on their business practices or they could lose customers. (Now, it seems, the moral majority might very well be green.)

Sadly, most of those corporations are still selling us the same stuff, albeit with a green ribbon on the top. Our landfills are still filling up, we’re still shipping garbage elsewhere, and much of that garbage has been the spawn of the digital age—cast-off computers, peripherals, tech gadgets and handhelds that become all too rapidly obsolete. They have to go somewhere. True, there are recycling programs for everything these days. I dutifully take my ink cartridges back to Staples and I recycle batteries and other special items properly, like everyone else does, at least, I hope everyone else does…

Yet, walk into any grocery store, fast food franchise, cineplex or café and you soon realize that we are still making and producing—and throwing away—an awful lot of CRAP.

You know that French axiom, the one that goes something like this: Plus ça change, plus c’est pareil? Well, there’s actually quite a bit of truth to it. From that very golden year, 1970, when Earth Day was just a newly minted coin for our emerging republic of green and all things still seemed delightfully possible, here is a satirical little spoof on human folly from humorist Art Buchwald.

And Man created the plastic bag and the tin and aluminum can and the cellophane wrapper and the paper plate, and this was good because Man could then take his automobile and buy all his food in one place and He could save that which was good to eat in the refrigerator and throw away that which had no further use. And soon the earth was covered with plastic bags and aluminum cans and paper plates and disposable bottles and there was nowhere to sit down or walk, and Man shook his head and cried: “Look at this Godawful mess.”

Plus ça change...

We Are Not Gadgets ... Yet

“If you want to know what’s really going on in a society or ideology, follow the money. If money is flowing to advertising instead of musicians, journalists, and artists, then a society is more concerned with manipulation than truth or beauty. If content is worthless, then people will start to become empty-headed and contentless.”

If that paragraph resonates with you or intrigues you in any way, then Jaron Lanier’s You Are Not A Gadget is the book for you.

Simply put, this is an intelligent critique of the direction the digital age has taken since the early, heady days when the internet was in its infancy and users were enthusiastically, democratically and idealistically embracing its potential in the (perhaps naïve) hope that it would transform our world for the better, through engaging, stimulating and intelligent interaction between peoples around the world, unimpeded by geography or circumstance.

Lanier posits that human interaction is not so much evolving as it is devolving under the Web 2.0 tidal wave of trendy technologies and software design, and that what is actually happening is the devaluation of what it means to be human.

Now that’s a reductive paraphrase concocted by yours truly, but there is nothing at all reductive or simplistic about this intelligent, thoughtful book. And you cannot accuse Lanier of being a Luddite either; his criticisms and insights come from the front line of the technocracy itself, because, if you recall, Lanier is the father of virtual reality, a Silicon Valley tech-wizard and visionary long before half of today’s Facebook users were even born. His critique comes from inside the temple, so to speak.

And the world beyond the temple gates would do well to listen up.

This is not just a cautionary tale, as the author himself indicates by calling this a “manifesto.” Actually, we are long past the point of caution. So much of the web’s current design is so firmly entrenched in the collective psyche that it’s just accepted as a given. (Case in point, the blogging template that I’m using to post this.)

This book is a wakeup call to people who love the internet; it asks us to see the situation clearly and to reflect upon the direction technological advancement has taken with healthy skepticism and all the intelligence we can muster. Because if we don’t, the type of society we will be creating (already well on our way to creating) will result in a new “dark age” (his words, not mine), a world in which quirky individualism, authentic creativity and even our understanding of “friendship” will be utterly distorted and devalued by the technical structures in which we have gleefully (and unwittingly) “locked” ourselves.

And if you want to contextualize your reading, the reviews Lanier’s book received are as fascinating as the book itself, revealing more about the reviewers than the book. There’s no shortage of pronouncements, from the facile critique found in the Globe and Mail to a blog post that raises “the review” to a high-level discussion, so thorough is the analysis from this independent researcher/ business consultant. True to our opinionated Wiki-world, everyone can weigh in—and everyone does.

But you should read the book in order to weigh in! As Lanier points out, sincere and individual expression is just one more casualty on the information highway, where drive-by anonymity and a mash-up mindset rule. The mob dynamic is alive and well on the net. You get condemnation by hearsay.

At the risk of becoming one more cyber-utopian, I welcome the fact that this book snapped me back to reality. Actually, I’ve been having some misgivings of my own lately, even as I enthusiastically tweet links to petitions that my twitter buddies might like to sign too. But I am not and never have been a fan of Facebook, and while I maintain a Facebook page, I really question why I bother.

As Lanier says, “…there is a new brittleness to the types of connections people make online.”

There is something insidiously insincere about the routine use of Facebook. Can anyone really have 6,976 friends, especially if 6,929 of them are beings you’ve never actually met or sustained a one-on-one conversation with?

Now if someone questions why I don’t like Facebook, I’ll just hand them Lanier’s book and not feel like an old fogey fuddy-duddy, which I know I am not. So thanks, Jaron. I feel somewhat vindicated on that score. I happen to love the internet. I wouldn’t know how to live without it. Literally.

You see, my cyber-utopianism has its roots in a very felicitous personal eureka moment. What seems like eons ago, when I first logged on the net from the privacy of my own home, I knew immediately that it could forever change how I worked and earned a living. I still get excited about that. It really has changed my life for the better. I have been able to connect with wonderful clients all over the world, and yes, some new friendships have come out of these connections. I don’t drive to work anymore, so I don’t wastefully burn up fossil fuel by sitting in morning traffic jams. And I really do enjoy being a member of the Free Agent Nation. But it doesn’t mean I have to put blinkers on and be blind to the more ominous implications of a digital-crazed world.

There is a both a beauty in this online world and a danger. What is incumbent upon us, as the creators of the technology, is to ensure that we maintain our individuality all the while respecting the individuality of others. We must always make sure that we bring our human intelligence, our kindness and our moral compass to bear on every decision we make and on every interaction and connection we engage in. We must never stop questioning and we must never be afraid to put the brakes on something before we have fully assessed its potential, for there is always the possibility that in the race to embrace our brave new worlds we could be doing more harm than good.

Human intelligence, that combination of logic and emotional insight, is still what must drive this world. We humans design the net. Not the other way around.

And don’t rely on this bleep from the blogosphere. Just experience Lanier’s book for yourselves.

Remembering Schottland: Birds and Bombs and Other Trivia

May there always be secondhand bookstores. In a world that tends to value only what is digital, the secondhand bookstore may be the last bastion of the rare, the arcane and the esoteric, the book lover's equivalent of a deep-sea treasure chest, laden with books no longer in print and obscure works no longer read by authors who have long since slipped out of fashion and into oblivion.

The often chaotic and dusty shelves still beckon the seekers of intellectual flotsam and jetsam, who know that among these cast-offs can often be found lost gems and the glorious trace of human thought.

And so it was, how I chanced upon a worn and water-stained book of poetry by a minor American poet, Leo E. Schottland. The shabby, slim volume with its faded gold lettering was leaning against T.S. Eliot. I am not sure why I reached for it. Something in its forlorn appearance, I suppose, as the title was barely legible: Of Birds and Bombs and Other Trivia.

But I was immediately intrigued. Later, what I read on those yellowing pages moved me deeply. A hitherto unknown soul was suddenly speaking to me as quiet friend and kindred spirit. The poetry is not William Carlos William. Not P.K. Page. Not Robin Blaser. Although, there are moments when I am vaguely reminded of our Raymond Souster. Clearly, Schottland was influenced by Walt Whitman.

But this man, Leo E. Schottland, who lived and learned and loved, who travelled the continent and eventually settled down in Long Island, New York, is worthy of mention because his poetry reveals a person who was profoundly sensitive to the beauty and the fragility of the natural world. In many of his poems he rails against the indifference and the greed of an increasingly material society that was hell-bent on progress at any cost.

And he was writing all this in the 40s, 50s and 60s no less!

Prejudice and hate he had no time for, and he sought the ideal of a better world. For Schottland, that meant a world in which all living things were treated with respect. While Schottland clearly had a God, it was a god who dwelt in the woods, which he called his "cathedral" in one poem, such is the reverence he held for nature. In yet another poem, he reveals a disgust for the hypocrisy one often finds in organized religions. He held compassion aloft, and not the sole domain of the Christian mindset either, as one of man's most admirable attributes.

One poem relates an incident that he had witnessed, in which a young boy helped to save a small rabbit from his dog. Tenderly, he tells us that the boy "gently" elbowed the dog aside and then pushed the stuck rabbit through the fence "all the while talking to the dog." Once the freed rabbit "bounded away," the boy and the dog look at one another, expressing in their wordless exchange what the poet identifies as compassion: "And the dog licked his hand, and seemed to understand."

True, some of his language and terminology are dated, but his passion and sincerity shine across the decades. His anger at humankind's disregard for the planet is evident in many poems, such as "Betrayal":

Dying are our rivers and forests
And our sanctuaries too—
Murdered by man and his greed,
His lust and his selfishness…

Or in "Before the Bulldozers Came" he writes:

Man builds in the name of progress,
Destroying in his righteous conceit
That which is beautiful
And just as essential
As his new roads and glistening towers.

In a long and moving elegy, "An Apology to Walt Whitman" he writes these chopped lines, as if he were gasping himself in the oxygen-depleted air:

I went into the cities
And beheld a gray haze
Drifting along over the traffic
And it was gaseous
And sooty
And the air was laden
With sulphur dioxide
And swollen particles
Of lung-killing death!


At the end of the poem, he writes:

And I held a quiet converse
With Walt Whitman,
Wherever he is,
And I apologized
For what we are doing
To twentieth-century America.

If Whitman were alive today and bearing witness to the disappearance of wild spaces and most especially now to the ongoing ecological disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, what would he write? Surely he would be appalled, angry, vocal and strident in his criticism.

What is revealed in Schottland's poems, over and over, is his anxious love for the small and beautiful things of this world—a tree, a plant, and in one poem, a turtle. It is this poem that most reveals the soul of this man and depth of his inherent gentleness. It also seems to encapsulate all that he felt about the destruction of the planet.

Here then is "A Hollowing Shell Where Turtle Dwelt":

We found it lying on its back,
A little tank—or what was left,
And, just like armored tanks in war
O'erturned, are too of strength bereft.

We found it lying there,
A hollowing shell where turtle dwelt,
And flies and ants were crawling 'round
And in and out—of the huge welt.

There on the great fen it lay,
What hand but human wrought the deed?
As, flipping on its back and propping up,
Stole its chance for life—there was no need.

No need to steal from the clean earth
A harmless dweller of the soil;
'Twas death by torture—without doubt,
But did the human heart recoil?

Nay, thought was never given to cruelty,
What could a hard-shell turtle know of pain?
God—help the heart to look within itself
And know the touch of love and be redeemed again.


I can't help but wonder how many other people out there might still remember Schottland's poetry. I hope there are many. If not, we must keep his relatively small output of work alive somehow. Which is why I share it here, and for no other reason.

As his friend Alonzo Gibbs wrote in the introduction to the collection, for Schottland, poetry was not simply a way of life but a "dedicated concern for the earth and all who dwell therein." Gibbs adds, "May his tribe increase!"

Hear! Hear!

The Spin Cycle: Greenwashing Must Stop

"In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act." George Orwell

Back around 2000, BP jumped on the green bandwagon by rebranding itself as an eco-friendly oil company. Spending roughly 200 million dollars, BP bought themselves a new tag line, a sunny new logo and began to advertise their new green appearance to the public.

Flash forward to one of the worst "man-made" ecological disasters endangering the Gulf states and BP has rolled out yet another ad campaign, this time to apologize for the damages caused by the explosion of the Deepwater Horizon rig. The expensive but lame apology came four weeks after the actual explosion, as the awful "visual" impact to the Gulf's wildlife and wetlands started to really hit the media in a big way. BP was suddenly no longer awash in feel-good green but drenched in its own stinking crude.

BP didn't invent greenwashing, of course, Nor did Haliburton, Transocean, or any of the oil companies for that matter. No, Big Oil is just one of the many sectors that realized early on it made shrewd business sense to be perceived as forward-thinking and environment-friendly. And let's be clear, there is a difference between marketing a green product and the practice of greenwashing. If a company is making or selling a product that truly does have some ultimate benefit to the environment, either through the product's intrinsic characteristics or its ability to be recycled, then fine. Greenwashing, on the other hand, is essentially a sly way for a company to express environmentalist concerns through their products, services or activities but whose real intentions are to erect a positive public image and ultimately secure good PR and more sales.

A little harmless advertising? No, greenwashing is not only disingenuous, it's unethical. It is a cynical practice that plays on the current sympathies (and fears) of the public. Moreover, it insults and devalues the genuine efforts of truly green companies and green entrepreneurs that are developing sustainable products, services and organizations. Soon, everyone will smirk or grimace when they hear the word "green." It's already happening.

A few years ago, I was excited by certain developments. Generally, people seemed to be joining the green revolution in a big way, with meaningful commitments to reducing and recycling and being vocal about pollution. Companies were starting to change the tone of their advertising. In business, we started to speak about social responsibility and giving back. All good things. I liked that business was talking about the environment and that "we" environmentalists, naturalists, conservationists, wildlife and animal lovers weren't perceived as being on the lunatic fringe anymore. You could say you wanted to save the boreal forest and not be dismissed as some fuzzy-thinking New Age freak.

Hallelujah.

But then, an ominous trend began to loom on the copywriting horizon. I began to feel very uneasy about the marketing and advertising I was hearing, reading and seeing. Certain products and companies were talking about being "green" that really, in all honesty, couldn't possibly be green no matter how much spin they could apply. How could they promote themselves as green? I found myself pondering this question more and more. If being green is a moral, ethical choice (protecting the earth for the greater good of all), then some companies were clearly walking a very fine ethical line by telling their little green fibs.

Well, not all the fibs were little. Some of them have proven to be real whoppers!

The biggest whopper yet has been the BP rebranding. Tragically, this point has been driven home in a dramatic, horrific way. I am not debating the merits of offshore drilling here. I recognize that civilizations need energy to sustain themselves and survive. The kind of energy we could be using instead must be a topic for another post. This post is about misleading the public with disingenuous "greenspeak."

The clock has struck and time is up: we as a society can no longer tacitly permit the culture of lying that dulls our brains, calcifies our cynicism and masks ugly truths and nasty realities with fine and pretty words. Greenwashing can do real harm. I think the environmental disaster in the Gulf is proof enough of that. It's just not good enough anymore for a company to say it is green. It ought to be able to back up those words with solid facts or authentic, sincere initiatives that support its claims. What is surfacing through all that BP marketing muck is a company that had anything but the integrity of the environment or the health and safety of its workers in mind—no substantially well-thought-out disaster plan and little disregard for anything but the profit margin.

If any good can possibly come out of this horrible and very preventable tragedy, maybe it is that people will be utterly and absolutely, for once and for all, revolted by corporate greenwashing. Going forward, consumers must be more analytical and skeptical, make informed and wiser choices, and hold businesses accountable for their claims.

True, advertising organizations around the world have reacted to protect consumers. For example, in Canada, the Competition Bureau along with the Canadian Standards Association discourage companies from making vague claims about their products' environmental impact, and any claims they do make must be backed up by readily available data.

Independent organizations also stepped in, issuing guidelines and carrying out their own studies. You can read Futerra's Greenwash Guide online and follow the latest (2009) TerraChoice Environmental Marketing Inc. study on what they have dubbed The Seven Sins of Greenwashing: the Sin of the Hidden Trade-Off, the Sin of No Proof, the Sin of Vagueness, the Sin of Irrelevance, the Sin of Fibbing, the Sin of Lesser of Two Evils and the Sin of Worshiping False Labels.

Maybe we need tougher laws and stricter penalties for these violations? But we cannot just leave it to the advertising councils and the corporate watchdogs. The consumer can play a huge role in keeping a company honest. As the people at www.trendwatching.com point out, thanks to the exploding social media scene, transparency will matter. The Internet and social media are handing the megaphone over to the public, so opinions can be voiced and products boycotted, and it can be done with immediacy and in great numbers. Refusing to buy a company's product or airing their shameful record can send shares plummeting. Just take a look at the latest business reports on BP stock.

As for corporate communications writers, spin is always going to be a part of the job. So is there a place for truth in marketing and advertising? Call me naïve but I think so, and I think it can be really good writing and design, too. Just as there are wonderful green entrepreneurs with great ideas, there are communications specialists that can help to spread the news. And it can be done with creativity, fun, joy...and truth. I think that people will applaud your efforts for trying to do some good, but they will never applaud your lie when the truth comes out.

So for goodness sake, let's stop greenwashing the world. Let's just clean it up. For real.

To see a list of some of the world's top greenwashing offenders (and BP made that list long before the current oil disaster) check out this article at the Huffington Post.

Tony's Summer Reading List

(To the people of the Gulf, please forgive this attempt at levity. I do not mean to make light of this tragedy, actually, quite the opposite.There is absolutely nothing funny about the death of eleven men and the destruction of an entire ecosystem.)

I'm compiling a reading list for Tony Hayward. I welcome any suggestions, by the way. It would be great to send this list off to him soon so he can enjoy some summertime reading at the beach. I guess that would be the beach in Brighton, though, right? Or somewhere in the UK. Well, I guess it comes down to whatever beach his company hasn't yet polluted or destroyed.

Anyway, I thought I would start off by suggesting Thinking Like a Mountain, that wonderful book from a group of deep ecologists whom I admire. This slim volume might actually go a long way to helping Tony with his sensitivity training, because clearly the man is suffering a real disconnect with the natural world. He doesn't realize that he is human, and of course we all know that humans are really just animals after all. Gosh, Darwin has been telling us that for years. One of his own countrymen! Imagine that!

But I'm really convinced that once Tony starts reading some of the great poetic verses penned by Joanna Macy in which she slides under the skin of the beasts and the birds to speak to us through them, he will be moved. He might even learn to emote. Hell, he might even cry. I know I do every time I read the lines of the Audoiun's seagull:

"I cannot spread my wings glued with tar. Fly me from what we have done, fly me far."

My second choice is definitely Paul Hawken's The Ecology of Commerce. This is essential reading for all business leaders. Hawken posits that the environmental perspective is the only way business will prosper, and for a company like BP that is clearly only concerned about profits, this ecological analysis of business might actually be of great interest to Tony and the rest of his management team.

Finally, I really thing he ought to read The Upside of Down. Catastrophe, Creativity and the Renewal of Civilization by the Canadian intellectual, Thomas Homer-Dixon.

I am pretty certain that Tony is not familiar with our Canadian professor, respected and renowned though he is. Tony seems to have little interest in and even less regard for colonials—gosh, American culture and way of life are of so little value to him that I'm sure Canadians don’t even register as a blip on his radar.

That was unfair. He is familiar with a couple of Canadian words. (Can you say Arctic and Tar Sands?)

Anyway, this book would be very instructive, possibly life changing. I hope that he doesn't skim over the section entitled "Stages of Denial": "Not everyone considers environmental stresses to be particularly serious or recognizes how dangerous they can be."

He really needs to read this. Oh—and that concept of the world being prepared for "worst case scenarios" by engaging in contingency planning before a disaster strikes and we're plunged into global chaos would be particularly helpful to him as the CEO of a major oil polluter—er—company. Sorry. My bad. Just a little Freudian slick, I mean, slip…(whew, there's a lot of that going around lately.)

Anywho, that's my two cents' worth. Hey, it’s a start! Three books, I know, but maybe he's a slow reader. He's certainly a slow responder.

So let me know ASAP. As I said, I'd like to get this list to him before he starts his summer vacation. Because as we all know, that poor man needs to relax and get his life back.

Clumsy, Costly Apology isn't BP's only Faux Pas

BP just paid $50 million dollars on an advertising campaign to "salvage" their image. As a freelance writer, I well understand the point of corporate communications strategies and good PR. A company has every right to tell the world what they are all about and what they are doing, even what they stand for (unless of course they are flaunting outright lies); PR campaigns are part and parcel of our modern business world, like it or not.

And there are many enlightened corporate citizens out there who write genuinely well-intentioned CSR policies, and do the deeds to back up their words: donating generously to charity, sponsoring charitable events, and implementing greener, kinder initiatives within their organization. Many business leaders today know this is wise; either they have fully embraced the realization that sustainability issues are serious matters because we live in a world of finite resources, or they are keen to ensure that their company's image is untarnished in the court of public opinion. As morally dubious as the latter is, the peer pressure to "do good" in the corporate world could be keeping a lot of companies from "doing worse."

This has not been the case with BP. Moreover, BP's decision this past week to (finally) publicly apologize to the American people reveals only one true motive, and it's certainly not moral contrition. No, the only reason BP acts now to publicly apologize, and in such a lavish way I might add, is directly related to their plummeting stock value. Period. BP found itself bleeding money as fast as their well in the gulf is gushing oil. Financial loss is the only thing on BP's collective managerial mind right now.

While I am not at all impressed with how BP has handled its communications with the public and the media over the past 48 days, my real fury (contempt) for the company is reserved for their lack of preparedness and contingency planning. For a company like BP, with so much wealth and so many resources at its disposal, this sort of negligence is inexcusable and unforgivable. I would go so far as to label their attitude "aloof disdain." They are so big, so powerful, and so supported and backed by governments the world over, they simply know they can get away with murder. In the Gulf of Mexico, they have.

Before I decided to open my own small business, I worked for a large multinational bank. In the years leading up to the millennium, if you recall, the fear of a digital meltdown led to a "Y2K" contingency planning frenzy around the world. Motives aside, every business, every organization, every government and municipality on the planet was busily beavering away on their contingency/emergency plans.

As a member of the Y2K project management team, my job was to write the disaster recovery plan for my business unit. The goal was to leave as little as possible to chance, and if indeed the worst happened, there would be a plan in place to mitigate total disaster. To that end, we brainstormed multiple scenarios and solutions. I wrote scripts and steps for manual input, should it actually come to a system infrastructure failure. We reviewed, we did test runs, we made sure everyone knew what they would be doing, and then we archived it, in the event that…

In short, we were prepared.

Now, I realize that a disaster recovery plan for a financial institution is not quite the same as an engineering contingency plan for an offshore drilling rig. But the principal is essentially the same: addressing that horrible "what if." One thing you can't deny is that the stakes are significantly higher for offshore drilling, where human lives and entire ecosystems are at risk. Those factors alone should be reason enough for making absolutely certain that all possible consequences and outcomes have been envisioned and contingency measures in place to mitigate the damages if the unthinkable were to ever happen.

That a company the size and scope of BP has not engaged in appropriate emergency planning and preparedness is mind-boggling. Scientists and software at their disposal, BP could have been easily working on detailed disaster prevention and disaster recovery strategies. They should have been made to produce these strategies before being allowed to drill. Indeed, that is what environmental assessment agencies were created for, to ensure that companies who drill, mine, manufacture—whatever—are prepared, that they will do no harm to the environment. Of course, when the "watchers" are as equally corrupt and careless, then you have the BP oil spill tragedy of April 2010. Collusion is even murkier than the oil oozing into the Gulf.

Finger-pointing isn't going to clean up the mess though. Finger-pointing isn't going to bring back those eleven men who lost their lives. Finger-pointing isn't going to revive the thousands of oil-drenched birds already dead or rehabilitate the ones gasping for oxygen and still struggling to survive. Finger-pointing does nothing to save the marine life of the Gulf or repair the fragile wetlands and marshes, which may not be able to sustain life for decades to come.

For those of us who value our wild places and spaces and hold dear all forms of life, large and small—from dragonflies and frogs to herons and dolphins—the sense of despair and futility is overwhelming. If you are like me, you alternate between tears and fury. I see the oil-covered birds and I feel physically ill. The Gulf was their habitat too. But BP, clearly, doesn't give a damn about a bird's life. All that "green" sounding, eco-friendly marketing patter they've been spewing for the past decade is meaningless in the face of this horrific reality.

There is no ad campaign in the world that will make this right. Indeed, BP's disingenuous CEO is dead wrong. Instead of spending such astronomical sums now to save their image, they should have been investing in preparedness planning over the years.

For more details about BP's lack of preparedness, read this article from Newsweek.

Of Meter and Meteors

Ah, when worlds collide - Literature and Astronomy! This fascinating article will appeal to both the science junky and the Whitman enthusiast. Enjoy.

Forensic Astronomer Solves Walt Whitman Mystery

CultureLab is a great blog, too.

A Book for Earth Day

While I recommend that everyone "just get out there" today and connect with Nature, here's a recent addition to my bookshelf that is worthy of note, today of all days.
If you get a chance, read it.

The term "secular enchantment" really resonates with me, as I have always believed that our capacity to be in awe of the natural world is something deeply spiritual, older than religion ... and probably a lot saner.

So read this to dispel misconceptions about Darwin and Darwinism, and to take a wonderful journey back to your own "origins" of wonder, that capacity you had as a child to take delight in the world around you. After reading this, you realize that Darwin never lost it.

In the Beginning was the Word

Watching the Charlie Rose segment last week about Apple's new iPad and then watching the documentary Empire of the Word, which is airing again on TVO this spring, got me thinking about that hotly debated subject, the future of reading, and about books in general.

I don’t belong to the sect that is moaning about the end of the written word or the end of the book, because frankly I don’t think writing and reading are doomed; if anything, this crazy 21st century thus far is showing us a world culture that is more addicted to the word than ever before. The rise of texting (yes, I know they're not using grammar), the proliferation of platforms and accessibility to content is increasing, not diminishing. The "word" is not going away any time soon. We will always need to communicate, and we will always need good communicators.

What is changing is how content is delivered. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. We don't write on stone tablets anymore (thank goodness for that because it's bad enough having carpal tunnel let alone back problems) and we don't fill little wooden boxes with molten lead, either. Our methods of producing and disseminating content have evolved. Not a surprise, surely. Everything has changed: locomotion, housing, work, manners and mores. Welcome to the human race. (And there's something about the race to achieve, change or improve that defines us as a species, isn't there?)

Yet, despite the progression from papyrus to digital publishing, what remains and is ever constant is the Word. It's just the format that is changing. Of course, the medium will affect the message (see that texting reference), but in the end it is the continuing flow of communication and information that keeps the world going 'round. (Indeed, don't physicists tell us that perhaps our universe is more a great thought than a machine? All life is encoded information — DNA, chemicals, atoms.)

If I have any concern, it is mainly this: I hope that the great works of literature and even the obscure but extraordinarily wonderful works of literature get distribution on these new platforms. How wonderful would that be! Can I read any text I want, say from the great library in Alexandria? Or the work of an unknown but brilliant poet whose manuscripts were only recently discovered? Can I read Plato? Sappho? Montale? Kundera? Cervantes and Bellow? And Whitman? Taking my iPad to the woods and reading "these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life" suddenly takes on an entirely new and wondrous meaning. Whitman truly can go with me anywhere now, and not just the dog-earred yellowing pocketbook that gets stuffed in bags and coat pockets and will one day fall apart entirely.

The ancient Latin words "vade mecum" have a new context entirely.

So that is what would excite me: to know that I will not be limited to reading the latest mindless celebrity gossip or entertainment drivel, but that I will still be able to access the Word as given to us down through the centuries of human thought. Then that really will be a giant leap for mankind.

I like the idea of iPad. I think this will change things enormously. It is not just a toy. If it gets more people reading and accessing the papers and the newsfeeds so that they stay informed, and if it keeps children enthused about books and reading, I say great. There will always be a place for the books you hold in your hand, but if we can stop the destruction of forests to produce towers of paper books, then I say, let's …

The point is not what you are holding open in your hand to read from, what matters is that your mind is open to receive what you are reading.

More about that wonderful documentary, Empire of the Word, in another post.

Exhibit Commemorates the Work of Ivan Kocsis

Ivan Kocsis was a Hungarian artist who came to Canada in 1956 and promptly fell in love with his new country for its natural, wild beauty. He took to heart the story of the First Nations and devoted the rest of his life to painting and drawing the history of this continent's indigenous people. An amateur archaeologist and historian as well, Kocsis collected thousands of artifacts and made hundreds of pages of drawings. He visited the Six Nations Indian Reserve often and became friends with Chief Jacob Thomas and Walter Cooke at the Hamilton Regional Indian Centre. Ivan was made an Honorary Member of the Mohawk tribe. His works are in private and public collections across Canada and the United States, notably, the Smithsonian, the Museum of Man in Ottawa and the Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto.

Now, some of these works can be seen in this special exhibit in his honour, an exhibit mounted by my friend and client, Frank Spezzano, dramatist and author of Bressani.

Sadly, Ivan Kocsis passed away in October, 2008. This is a great opportunity to see some of his fine work held in private collections.

A Terrific First Novel

When I first read the draft of Spiderbones in 2007, I wrote:

“Exceptional is the way in which the writer has established mood and setting, largely through the use of the main characters’ dialogues and the location references. The story is grim, dark, gritty, unrelenting. This is one of the great strengths of the book—its atmosphere. The reader is keenly aware at all times of the world in which the author requires us to inhabit: a tough, uneasy landscape, both physically and psychologically. The characters are equally tough, rendered perfectly through their dialogue and their actions. And the town of Castle Dawn becomes not just a backdrop for the action but, eerily, a living presence as well, quite nearly a character in its own right."

I had the pleasure of meeting and working with Jeff a few years back, and I was stunned by the raw poetry of this first novel. Evocative, haunting imagery, descriptions, strong dialogue that captures the world of his young characters—we are drawn into their lives, and into the haunted mind of his protagonist, Peter, who struggles to make sense of what he sees. Visions? Hallucinations? Madness?

Here’s a passage from the novel:

There was no witness when the bat nailed the back of his head. He curled into a ball to protect himself, tossing his arms in front of his face. He saw his left arm block the wallop meant for his nose. It didn’t creak or snap. Instead, his veins filled with blistering water, heat that allowed his bones to twist as if it were jelly fitting a mould, until a bat-shaped groove was pounded into the limb.

The pain could only be described by a hallucination. Blinking, he saw a giant spider, the size of a van. She trailed a strand of rope-like material behind her as stepped away from his arm. He stared at the odd mix of grey and white leaking from her spinneret; her web was neither as shiny nor as thin as silk. Perhaps an inch thick, it proved to be easily categorized.

She was secreting bones that were digging into his arm, yoking his skeleton to her web. Unable to escape, he noticed a throbbing sac just above his arm. The silky package burst open before he screamed, unleashing dozens of hungry arachnids. The baby spiders covered his limb, filling it with stinging venom as they ate it, a thousand tiny bites that destroyed his appendage far more efficiently than a bat.

Blinking again, he watched bone turn to blood and spiders turn to kicking feet. Yet pain remained pain. Returned to the beating, he stayed curled in a ball, pinned not by a web but by his own failing limbs. This observation would do little to save his life. Without a—

“Cop!” yelled someone who couldn’t be older than Peter.

Six pairs of feet dressed in combat boots suddenly pointed their toes away from the man they would’ve killed with three more blows. Unable to remember any of their faces, even the colour of their bandanas, he passed out. He used his last thought to make a guess: without a description, or a police force fast enough to outrun juvenile delinquents, the punks who hurt him would never be caught.

He was right.

Spiderbones is available from Trafford.