Loss and Damage as Development

Why is ‘loss and damage’ a non-starter at COP27? In my view, it is because ‘loss and damage’ is what ‘development’ is, has been, and perhaps may always be. 

Climate change marks the apex of Western ‘development’. The pathway to climate catastrophe is strewn with an endless number of catastrophic events that derive from the Western model of sovereign, independent states led by elites in fierce competition with each other and in endless negotiation with their subjects later to become citizens. Let us count up some of the ‘loss and damage’:

Within states:

• exploitation of labour/indentured servitude
• domination of ‘out groups’, minorities, women (racism, sexism, etc.)
• land grabbing
• dramatic alteration of landscapes such as wetlands
• environmental degradation
• toxic waste production
• genocide
• violence against women and LGBTQ+

Beyond borders:

• slavery
• genocide
• complete alteration of social relations to satisfy European needs and wants
• complete alteration of natural environments to satisfy European needs and wants

These actions resulted in countless wars, revolutions, civil wars, the creation of fragile and failing states, the creation of built environments unsuited to the natural environment, rapid population growth, migration, forced migration, ecosystem degradation, solid waste pollution, anomic violence, and, of course, a fairly good life for a narrow band of the human population, and extreme wealth for the very few. 

The whole thing holds together through a revolving set of narratives designed to justify the mess created over perhaps 500 years: e.g. the ‘Enlightenment’, the white man’s burden, progress, the Wealth of Nations, creative destruction, and so on. 

Which brings me to my main point: the current world disorder that privileges a few and punishes the many is a consequence of historical processes set in train long ago. The resulting ‘loss and damages’ — including those accruing from a changed climate —  cannot be totalled up. It is human history. In addition, as shown at every global gathering of every type, those who benefit the most are also the most uninterested in anything beyond reforms which ensure their place at the apex of human society: geoengineering and electric vehicles at best, business as usual at worst. As global political economy has become more and more unequal over the last 40 years, the myth of collective effort in support of common good has been replaced by a combination of help yourself (your poverty/predicament is your own fault) and alms for the poor (the rise of ‘big philanthropy’ aka conscience money meant to assuage the guilt of the 1% and stave off social revolution). 

People ‘fit in’ to the facts of life as best they can. We develop and/or latch onto new narratives to explain the benefits and costs of our daily lives, our place in social (dis)order. As John Donne said, ‘No man is an island’: people build alliances and coalitions at a variety of scales, from the neighbourhood to the globe, and mobilize in support of their stories, in pursuit of desired outcomes. Technological creativity, the social application of which often emerges out of military innovation, dramatically alters the socio-economic, socio-political and socio-ecological landscapes, giving rise to new constellations of social forces within, across and among states. The resulting material, institutional and ideational forms of power privilege some and penalize others, reordering the geography of joy and misery along ever evolving value chains of production and consumption. Narratives, models and methods emerge in response to the desire for understanding, prediction and control. There appear to be moments of calm — the ‘long boom’ — as long as one does not widen the view, to take in the whole. 

Is it any wonder that directing the physical, mental and emotional energy of this raucous, riotous, cacophony of human endeavour towards a place like Sharm el-Sheikh results in anything other than weak promises, tepid commitments, agitated finger pointing, smug complacency and crass duplicity? For those at the margins, the question remains: what is to be done? Shape your narrative, find your allies, define your methods, assemble your resources and get stuck in. Others are doing the same. Appeals to ethics will fail, as will attempts to assign blame.

Beyond the 'Freedom Convoy': Time for a Serious Conversation

Social movements are strange beasts. They rise up seemingly spontaneously and often disappear as quickly as they emerged. Across Canada we are witness to just such a movement, the so-called ‘Freedom Convoy’, with the long term fuel for its fire being the pandemic and the short term spark setting the whole thing off being government’s waffling on vaccine mandates for cross-border truckers. Clearly, the world is tired of the pandemic. The direct costs in lives lost and irreparably harmed, of livelihoods shattered and people shaken physically, emotionally and financially to their knees, are undeniable. While the world’s one percent have adapted and often profited, and a broad swath of public and private middle to upper-middle class folks have held steady, hundreds of millions of poor, elderly and immune-compromised people — the vast majority of whom are people of colour, generally located in the Global South and in the poorer neighborhoods of the Global North — have no choice other than to venture out into a virus-infected world to try to eke out a living. While governments tell them to stay home, this is a luxury they do not have.    

There is a great deal of sympathy across not only Canada, but the world, for the Freedom Convoy’s central demand of an end to vaccine mandates. It is no great insight to say that everyone is fed up with the current situation. As with other broad-based, generally-focused social movements like #OccupyWallStreet, so too does the Freedom Convoy suffer from setting forth demands that are too broad across categories that are too diffuse for rapid treatment in public policy. Where #Occupy was concerned, while many of us do not like the effects of neoliberal globalization, calling for an end to it is just not going to happen any time soon. Similarly, calling for not only an end to vaccine mandates but to a wide array of other things such as the overthrow of a democratically-elected government are in the first instance unreasonable and in the second instance a non-starter. It just ain’t gonna happen.

In the parlance of conflict resolution, the Freedom Convoy supporters have taken a position: end all restrictions related to collectively dealing with Covid-19. The confrontational and vituperative approach taken by the so-called ‘leadership’ has forced the government to take a diametrically opposed position, i.e. no we will not. Put differently, this is a mandate/no mandate, science/no science stand-off. What is to be done?

One thing that must not be done is for the government of Canada to present a disunited position in relation to the protests. They must show a united front. Unfortunately, what we have been witness to recently is anything but united, with the Conservative Party seeking to score political points rather than put forward any ‘progressive’ ideas in support of a resolution. A second thing that must not be done is to make this crisis only about the protesters, to demonize them, to label them as a ‘lunatic fringe’. Should the governments (Federal, Municipal, Provincial) successfully put an end to these protests, this does not mean that the issue has somehow been resolved. To the contrary, barring a miraculous end to the pandemic, people motivated to march will march again. 

What must be done is for the Liberal government to engage in a two directional conversation: in one direction, there must be serious consideration given to the implications of a movement temporarily dispersed but a broader issue — endless restrictions on personal freedoms — remaining unresolved. What is the way ahead? As I said earlier, this conversation must be intra-governmental aiming at consensus. In the other direction, the government must engage with the citizenry — all citizens — regarding options for moving forward in light of a shape-shifting virus. The government cannot hide behind ‘the science’ — the issue at hand is as much emotional as it is rational. 

How to do this? Alternative dispute resolution (ADR) counsels getting past the hard positions taken (i.e. no mandate vs mandate) to identify the interests driving people’s actions in support of a particular position. I don’t believe the government is wedded to its vaccine mandate position. What we have seen is a science-based step-wise approach to ‘reopening’. Changing circumstances will lead to changing policy positions. On the Freedom Convoy side, the interests behind the common position are diverse. For most, the interest grows out of people’s needs. The need to make a living and live a life perceived to be worth living. While a significant percentage may have latched on to the movement in pursuit of narrower — and possibly nefarious — interests, it is imperative that the government not paint the movement with this broad brush. People are hurting and want to be heard.

But how to find out what people’s specific interests are? Public engagement is the most obvious way. And by public engagement, I do not mean Justin Trudeau going out to run ‘town halls’. This must be a whole of government approach, a united front, where we meet in public spaces real and virtual to take stock of the personal and collective costs of both the pandemic and public policies taken in the honourable attempt to end the health crisis. Sometimes facilitators are brought in, agreed to by all sides as a stalwart individual or representative of an organization that is widely regarded as capable of having the greater public interest at heart. Bishop Desmond Tutu served this function in post-apartheid South Africa during its Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Is there a Canadian equivalent? 
It is unrealistic to think that this will be easily resolved. It is imperative that the government resist the urge to demonize protesters. Arrest them for public mischief, sure, no problem. They were warned. They should know that their actions have repercussions, that their ‘family friendly’ protest harmed the livelihoods of millions. While social movements often simply dissipate, those that survive do so because they find leaders, funds, and get organized. The right to organize is a hallmark of democracy. But it seems to me that we need to get out in front of this. After all, the KKK and the Proud Boys are civil society organizations. 

 Desperate times require desperate measures. In this case, the most desperate measure that is needed is that the leaders of the various parties sitting in the House of Commons, put away their knives and make peace among themselves. It’s the necessary first step to a very serious cross-Canada conversation.

Climate Finance, Water Resources and Effective Action

In response to the announcement that Boris Johnson’s government is committing the UK to more than £3 billion in international climate finance for biodiversity and nature, I was contacted by Voice of Islam Radio UK for some thoughts on the matter. Here is the gist of what I said.

WHAT DOES BIODIVERSITY MEAN AND WHY IS IT IMPORTANT?

The Convention on Biodiversity defines biodiversity as "the variability among living organisms from all sources including, inter alia, terrestrial, marine and other aquatic ecosystems and the ecological complexes of which they are part; this includes diversity within species, between species and of ecosystems”. In my view, it is Important in the sense that systems that are diverse are more robust in the face of some external shock or stressor. Let’s take food production for example. Nearly 70% of all agricultural land is devoted to 9 crops (wheat, rice, soy, maize, etc); these strains are singular; a single pest can threaten global food security. Is this wise to put so few crops into one food basket? 

According to the Secretariat of the CBD (2000), although species naturally go extinct through evolutionary processes, human activity is believed to be accelerating rate by 50-100 times. Currently 34,000 plants and 5,200 animal species face extinction. The WWF’s global living planet index has declined by 58% between 1970-2012. If you look at a map of ‘biodiversity hotspots’, you will note that basically all coastal environments and proximate marine and terrestrial environments are at risk. This should come as no surprise since more than 60% of all humanity is settled along coastlines. For too long we have used the high-modern notion of the best means to control pollution is dilution, hence dumping waste into our waterways which then make it out to sea. The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is one of the most notable human achievements, it seems to me. Some of the drivers of biodiversity loss are:

• Habitat loss and degradation (e.g. draining of wetlands; conversion of forested areas to housing)
• Species overexploitation (e.g. the collapse of the cod fishery)
• Pollution (e.g. plastics in the ocean; farm-runoff of nitrogen creating dead zones in ocean deltas)
• Invasive species and disease (e.g. zebra mussels in the Great Lakes, the expanded range of lyme disease in North America)
• Climate change (e.g. acidification of the oceans and destruction of coral reefs)

If we are more biodiverse, we are more robust and resilient in the face of environmental stresses (e.g. pollution, climate change). How to explain this simply? Think of pure-bred dogs and how their genetic vulnerabilities - e.g. weak hip bones - are transferred and exacerbated across generations. It is the same with humans: we marry and reproduce outside of our immediate families, thereby increasing the genetic complexity in our off spring. 

In my view, most of the problems associated with biodiversity loss can be attributed to high-modern thinking. In other words, it’s a problem of mindset: we have built all of our systems in terms of living apart from and dominating nature, treating the Earth as both an endless source of stuff we want and sink for things we don’t. More than 50 years after the first Earth Day, we are still struggling to see ourselves as part of nature and as a species that should adapt to the environment rather than seek to change it according to our whims. Rather than expand our diets to include a wide variety of staple crops, we prefer to engineer wheat and rice to be able to withstand shocks. New shock? New biogenetic engineering trick. This belief in techno-mastery of the Earth must stop. 

Of course many people benefit from the growth of wheat in an arid environment, so are vested in its success and the success of genetic mutation engineering. Most of us interested in sustainability are very familiar with the dangers associated with privatized seed banks, for instance. What to do? For one, we can try to recover lost culture. Mike Hulme has written about climate as culture. What he means is that cultures have developed around the world over millennia and both their specific characteristics and high degree of robustness reflects adaptations not just to weather but to climate. With the advent of colonialism and imperialism, and the transposition of European temperate zone practices to the tropics, for example, an endless array of problems related to human settlements, agricultural practices, and resource use in general have emerged. The tropical world continues to be treated like a grand Western experiment in Man’s attempt to dominate nature. (‘Man’ is used here deliberately, because such a view is undoubtedly associated with hyper-masculine notions of command and control, of power over things and others.) Adapting to climate variability and change therefore requires a recovery of respect for one’s own culture. Rather than re-engineer wheat to become “wheat”, is it not better to adopt ‘orphan crops’, i.e. those that emerged naturally from tropical, sub-tropical and semi-arid savanna environments? 

Another attempt to rehabilitate nature is to subject it to the language of capitalist economics: ‘Ecosystem services’ seeks to show politicians and private sector actors that the natural world provides a series of services that can be quantified. These services are of four types: regulating, supporting, provisioning, and cultural. Those in support of ecosystem services believe that if we can show how much money we save a government by not draining a wetland, then they will be less likely to do so. Of course this is more easily said than done. Which brings us to the second question.

UK CLIMATE SPENDING: IS THIS A GOOD INITIATIVE?

As noted earlier, the UK government pledged £3Billion for international climate finance for biodiversity and nature. In my view, this is a good initiative, but it must be set in broader context. Together, the rich world has committed to raising £100 Billion/yr in climate finance for poor countries over 2020-25. The UK portion of this is something like £5.6 billion. Holding aside a critique regarding what exactly this money will be used to support, there is the small matter of getting the left foot and the right foot to walk in the same direction. In the past 4 years, the British government provided £21 Billion in supports for UK oil and gas exports through trade promotion and export finance. This alone is >£5 Billion/year. Granted, the government vowed to end these in December 2020, but my point is simple: with one hand we support climate actions; with the other hand we undermine those actions. Which raises the question about what the money will be used for. Some will go to adaptation, such as rehabilitating mangrove forests in coastal areas. Some will go to mitigation, such as support for protecting forests as carbon sinks. 

What we know about Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) to lowering carbon emissions, is that the UK has set very positive targets that must be applauded. Under COP 15, it was initially agreed that only a small percentage of these emission reductions could be attributed to actions taken outside of the country (e.g. through support for forest protection in another country such as Ethiopia or Vietnam through programs such as UN REDD and REDD+). The majority must be derived from initiatives taken within the sovereign state’s boundaries. This has changed. It is alright for states to derive whatever percentage of their NDC from international action. This raises two questions. First, will buying forests in Ethiopia have only positive impacts on Ethiopians, or will it lead to uneven impacts? Second, will buying forests in Ethiopia allow the UK to remain on a carbon dependent track (even expanding it through the Cumbria coal mine, for example) while claiming to be ‘carbon neutral’? These are serious issues that require deeper investigation. 

CHALLENGES OF SUSTAINABLE WATER MANAGEMENT?

Let’s shift to the so-called world water crisis and its relation to climate change, climate finance and so on. It is important to begin by noting that, in the world’s of the Dutch King Willem-Alexander, ‘the world water crisis is a crisis of governance’. He said this at the opening of the 2000 World Water Forum held at The Hague. His view is important, because he is saying that water problems are neither a unilinear consequence of too little or too much water; nor a consequence of ill management derived from a dearth of capital, Human Resources or technical capacity. Rather, he was saying that water is power. The way we use it today reflects that past and present dominant interests have martialled water to their perceived needs. Just picture Las Vegas or Los Angeles or Phoenix: big tech, big money and political power made the desert bloom. This system of supply is dependent upon a combination of demand (money to pay for big infrastructure) and supply. In the case of the aforementioned cities, this means snow melt from the Rocky Mountains. With climate change creating extreme and often unpredictable events, how much longer can Las Vegas survive? Clearly, we need to think about water differently.

A primary challenge is to see water in its totality, not just as an input into production or something we use in daily life, but altogether, as part of a system with users of many types who need water in many different ways -- including the natural world (of which we are a part). Generally, we see water in terms of water for households (rural and urban) and water in agricultural production and they are treated separately, requiring different types of development interventions. This depiction, what Falkenmark and Rockstrom describe as a ‘blue water bias’, results in a contradictory narrative of ‘get more’ but ‘use less’. But both getting more and using less are deeply political issues. How to see water differently? How to ensure that the right people are at the decision-making table? 

WHO ARE THE KEY STAKEHOLDERS IN NATURAL RESOURCES MANAGEMENT? HOW CAN WE IMPROVE OUTCOMES?

There is a massive literature on ‘stakeholder participation’ for integrated and adaptive resource management, be it water or forests or protected areas, or coastal commons. This language can be found in today’s Sustainable Development Goals, in particular SDG6, SDG14, SDG15, SDG16 and SDG17. Development practitioners have long known the answer to the two questions I ask immediately above this section. Part of the problem continues to be unequal capacity among stakeholders. Let’s take the Okavango Delta Management Plan, of which I was a part. In the ODMP, four types of stakeholders are identified: Primary (those ‘ecosystem’ people immediately dependent on the natural environment for their livelihood, e.g. fishers, hunter-gatherers); Secondary (those who derive their livelihood from the indirect use of the resource, e.g. tour operators); Tertiary (those whose livelihoods depend on providing necessary services, e.g. restaurants, doctors, dentists, panel beaters); and ‘Key’ (those who make the rules in relation to resource access, allocation, use and management, i.e. different levels of government).  Two things are worthy of note here. First, when hosting and attending meetings to devise the ODMP, it quickly became clear that the most powerful actors in government and the private sector rarely showed up at meetings. This, it seems to me, is because they consider themselves on another level of decision making and influence. Second, that those who are physically furthest from the resource are labelled as ‘key’ actors suggests the difficulty of getting the most powerful actors to act in the direct and immediate interests of those most directly dependent on access to the resource, i.e. the ‘primary’ actors. How to improve outcomes, then? Clearly, devising appropriate stakeholder engagement platforms at the most appropriate scale is of paramount importance. Related to this is an agenda that puts the last first is important but extremely difficult. When I say ‘last’, I am not only talking about primary stakeholders but about the natural environment itself. The recent controversy of the Botswana government awarding oil exploration contracts within the Okavango River catchment area to a Canadian multinational is exemplary of this difficulty.

ARE THERE EXAMPLES OF POSITIVE CLIMATE ACTION?

While there are so many problems associated with pathways of influence and dependency, there are nevertheless many positive examples of effective climate action. These can be divided along technical, economic, legal/institutional and social lines. For example:

• Technical: e.g. moving away from oil-based products - biomass based packaging for example; renewable energy systems at scale such as micro-hydro, micro-solar, micro-wind.
• Economic: innovations in ecosystem servicing; financial incentives for renewables; R&D attached to renewables and job creation
• Legal and Institutional: collective action from the local to the global in support of e.g. protected areas, forests, commons, and communities 
• Social: change in public discourse; social movements

In my view, we should not undervalue social movements as a climate change success. Greta Thunberg and the youth movement are far more important to sustainable development and effective climate action than are self-driving cars and geo-engineering. For the former is about changing mindsets -- they are about transformation, not reformation, not doing the same thing only 'a little bit greener'. 

HOW CAN THE PUBLIC AID ENVIRONMENTAL SUSTAINABILITY AND CLIMATE ACTION?

As I said earlier, a primary challenge is getting influential actors to move in new directions. Old dogs learn new tricks only slowly if at all. Social movements are very important in this regard. We need organized groups to press for the collective good. At the same time, there are allies inside powerful institutions. We must find them and work for change from the inside. What can the public do? Too often, ‘Joe and Jane Q. Public’ feel disempowered. Climate change in particular feels like a phenomenon far beyond our individual control. But I would argue that we in so-called ‘mature democracies’ owe it to the billions of people who reside in states where they have no voice, to exercise our voices and to make effective choices. What is the ‘public’ anyway? The public is not a singular thing. Rather, each of us members of the public may be sub-divided in terms of at least four categories:

• We are Citizens
• We are Consumers
• We are Individuals who are part of families and communities
• We are members of groups in pursuit of our interests, aka ‘civil society’

As citizens, we must engage with government. As consumers, we must lessen our environmental footprint. If you think that £3 Billion of UK taxpayer money is a lot, consider that British pet owners spent an estimated £57 billion in 2018 on their dogs. We can make deliberate choices safe in the knowledge that we do not act alone; we are part of a movement united in support of sustainable, equitable and less wasteful forms of development. As individuals, our actions reflect our values. Too many of us continue to see ourselves as apart from nature not a part of it. We must educate ourselves, our children and our neighbours. We must reflect on our values and take decisions in support of both our individual but also our familial and collective interest. Lastly, 

as part of civil society we must join in — every little bit helps, from local to global. 

Pandemic Pandemonium: Calling Malcolm Gladwell!

Two questions lie at the heart of this post: (1) Are we sacrificing mental health in pursuit of physical health? (2) If so, what are the likely short, medium and long-term consequences of our actions, well meaning though they may be?

One year into the global coronavirus pandemic it is increasingly clear that, with only a few exceptions, leaders cannot lead and followers cannot follow. To be sure, forty years of neoliberalism hasn’t helped with its ‘shrink the state, expand the market, now off you go on your own now’ mantra. Each of these elements of the mantra have led to pathological outcomes: states incapable of forcefully and effectively taking the coordinated national, regional and global action necessary to ‘flatten the curve’; markets that have collapsed, including many delivering ‘essential services’; and people running off madly in all directions, from anti-maskers to dutiful citizens ‘staying the blazes home’. Indeed, many more nefarious elements have raised their ugly heads: vaccine nationalism, black markets for (often fake) vaccines, vaccine tourism for the rich, and widespread social protest. In some states, ‘leaders’ have simply used the pandemic to squash civil society. The private sector has done the one thing it knows how to do: respond to demand by developing a wide array of more or less effective vaccines. What this seems to have done, however, was to fuel a type of euphoria - there are clear skies ahead - quickly followed by a turn toward nihilism - there is no way out - due to the fiasco of many vaccine rollouts. And let’s not forget the stock markets which are, as usual, wildly out of step with reality and well on their way to another crash, the impact of which will be havoc for the average to poor, and a shrug of the shoulders for the one percent.

What is missing here is Malcolm Gladwell. Why Mr. Gladwell? Because what the world needs now more than anything is someone who can see outside of the scientific-rational box we’ve gotten ourselves into. One year into the pandemic and we average and well-meaning folks around the world are still being counselled to do the same things that clearly are not working: stay home, wash your hands, wear a mask, social distance. Don’t get me wrong; I am doing all of these things and am faring very well thank you kindly. But, like the ‘leaders’ of the world, I have options unavailable to almost everyone on the planet. I am able to work from home. It is not ideal but it is also not terrible. I continue to pull my weight and I get paid well for it. So does my spouse. We live in a rural area with lots of natural open space both on our property and all around us. For the first 60 days of the pandemic I did not leave my property but had a grand old time with my chain saw and assorted yard tools getting ready for summer. We also have no children, and we have a very strong marriage where prospects of '24-7' gives me shivers, but primarily of delight. We like being with each other. We have enough space to be on our own if necessary. The only hassle is the 20 minute drive to the shops for provisions. I suspect that all world leaders have a wide range of options similar to mine. Maybe not the ability to fly between personal golf courses on a government plane, but probably not too far off from that either. 

If those at the top were able of walking a mile in the shoes of those at the bottom - or in the middle - they would most likely not be so wedded to rational thought informed by science. They would feel the emotion of cramped quarters, fraught gender relations (intimate partner violence and binge drinking are way up), and children of varying ages with differing capacities to process the logic of restrictions and adapt. Households in many parts of the world are multi-generational, and the responsibility for holding this all together falls disproportionately on the shoulders of women. They would also feel the emerging, unwelcome rise of mental illness. They would begin to see that isolation and lockdown is tantamount to a trade-off between physical and mental health: you are safe from the virus but slowly going mad as a consequence. The revolving door of lockdown, partial opening, red, yellow, green zones and so on makes things worse. Uncertainty goes hand in hand with high levels of stress. Will the market solve this problem too? Wellness apps are all the rage. We are constantly being counselled on how to get creative at home. And people are trying their best to be rational and to do their part for the common good. Are we better off? Amazon and Netflix most certainly are. But what of people? A simple scan of the global social environment reveals people in the streets protesting against lockdown; protesting against not only the loss of their livelihoods but also of their sanity. Governments respond with a combination of water cannon and charts showing vaccine delivery and roll out plans. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. Since ‘Plan A’ is not working, how can the answer to ‘solving’ the pandemic be more ‘Plan A’, or ‘Plan A prime’. We need a fresh approach. We need clear eyed thinking. We need Malcolm Gladwell? 

Remembering Kenneth Good (1933-2020)

Remembering Kenneth Good

My good friend, Ken Good, passed away yesterday, 2 October 2020 at the ripe old age of 87. He had a long career as a Professor of Political Science, teaching in a wide variety of settings. We spent 7 years together at the University of Botswana. He was the author of many articles and books with a consistent focus on democracy, development, and social justice. He is perhaps most well-known for his book Diamonds, Dispossession and Democracy in Botswana

I first met Ken Good at Rhodes University in South Africa. It was 1994 and he was spending the day with us in the Politics and International Studies Unit, then directed by Roger Southall. He delivered a paper, the topic of which has long been forgotten. But not the man. When we next met, it was 1996, this time in Gaborone, Botswana, where he was a Professor in the Department of Political and Administrative Studies. This time, the shoe was on the other foot, as I was giving a paper about prospects for democracy in Nigeria. At the time, I was working in Ijebu-Ode, Nigeria for Adebabyo Adedeji at his African Centre for Development and Strategic Studies (ACDESS). Ken’s primary area of interest is democracy in theory and practice. He helped organize the event and the large room was packed to the rafters. The temperature was also up — this was February, mid-summer in the sub-continent — and so was Ken’s tail. He loved nothing more than a frank discussion about prospects for democracy anywhere. I spent the night at his home, met his young daughter Clara, and we drank Irish whisky and talked politics long into the night. Later on that year, when I left Nigeria, it was to take up a job at UB, largely because of the prospect of working alongside Ken Good. 

I consider Ken to be a friend, mentor, and inspiration and will remain so in death as he was in life. When he was unceremoniously kicked out of Botswana, I had moved on to the Okavango Research Institute in Maun, so didn’t have regular contact with him or any of my colleagues in the department. Nevertheless, several students approached me regarding their plans to organize protests in support of him and I offered them what I hope was ‘wise counsel’. T-shirts were printed up and marches were organized, but as is not untypical of the Botswana government, their minds were made up and he was deported once and for all. That was 15 years ago, so the memory fades and plays tricks.

I think of him often and use several of his publications in my graduate seminar at the University of Waterloo. We had one abiding argument between ourselves. For Ken, ‘critique is its own justification’. I am quoting him directly. Tell truth to power and let the cards fall as they may. He was very good at drawing lines in the sand, lines he would never cross. In contrast, my argument was that having laid out the critique, what is your advice for action? Critique was not enough. There must be a plan to move forward — and by forward I mean in a progressive direction, a direction that improves outcomes for all affected stakeholders, no matter how difficult or divisive the issue. A revolutionary at heart, Ken had little faith in reform. You had to choose a side and fight for what you believed is right. In his case, he only ever and always stood on the side of the oppressed, the marginalized, the dispossessed. He had an obsession with the Spanish Civil War and what might have been. I believe that in his teaching he tried to prefigure preferable futures and encourage the students to move beyond received wisdoms and dominant discourses, be they national or global. Don’t buy their bullshit, as he might say.

When I think of him, what first comes to mind is his serious nature. As the saying goes, he did not suffer fools lightly — or at all for that matter. Not that he wasn’t fun. Fun for Ken was a good argument about serious things — generally accompanied by good food and good drink. He loved intimate dinners. When the party got beyond 4 or 5, he tended to shrink away as the face-to-face element was generally lost in a more boisterous atmosphere. He loved to read and his house in Gaborone appeared to rest on a foundation of books. He was always pressing upon you a new book that he found of particular value. He loved nothing more than to have you come by his office and sit for an hour to discuss important matters of the day. And he always put the news of the day into a theoretical framework, filtering it through his political philosophy. Everything had its place. There were lessons to be learned everywhere and always. 

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a curmudgeon is ‘a crusty, ill-tempered, and usually old man’. No doubt, some people feel that this was an accurate description of Ken. From my point of view, when he was like this — as he often was — it was generally for good reason. He had time for neither frippery nor frivolity. Surrounded by the shallowness of consumerism that had engulfed post-1994 Southern Africa, he railed against pointless distractions. I have fond memories of him unceremoniously walking out of dinner parties that he felt were a waste of his time. With a wave of his hand, he would rise and bid us good night. You could only shake your head and respect him for his unwavering convictions. Being a man of principle only too happy to call you out as warranted, was bound to make him an enemy or two here and there. It got him thrown out of Botswana. How many people have the courage to say what they believe despite the likely consequences? As I said, he gained and deserved our respect.

He dubbed me a ‘Canadian lumberjack’ and said that I was ‘more larrikin than Larry’ — a larrikin being ‘a mischievous young person, an uncultivated, rowdy but good hearted person’, which I took as a complement and an indicator of his equally mischievous and good hearted nature. Under that gruff exterior was a big-hearted man. He had wonderful nicknames for all the rogues that ruled the region. Calling Mangosuthu Buthelezi, ‘Brutalezi’ for example. The toilet at his house in Gabs was adorned with newspaper clippings and photos pasted to the wall — a veritable look inside the head (and heart) of Ken Good. And when I imagine his head and heart, I see quite clearly that Kenneth Good was indeed very good. I will miss him very much. He will never be forgotten.

Larry Swatuk, Doctors Brook, Nova Scotia, 3 November 2020

On Elephants - White and Otherwise: Critiquing dominant discourses about natural resources

Larry A. Swatuk

The New World Disorder

In this essay, I offer not only a critique of dominant discourses regarding natural resources governance and management, but of my own life as a ‘pracademic’. I have spent more than 3.5 decades working on questions of the environment: can environmental cooperation lead to wider peace? Can CBNRM bring benefits to local people as well as to biodiversity and national economic wealth? Can transboundary park management yield multiple benefits? Can forest co-management result in poverty alleviation and environmental rehabilitation? Can peace parks foster peace?

Underpinning each of these questions were a set of assumptions: that agency could influence structure; that small local steps could lead to system wide changes; that ideas wield power. My own theoretical starting point is a blend of Neo-Marxist (i.e. Gramsci, Cox), constructivist political economy/ecology (Watt and Peets among others). 

My personal sympathies lay with the oppressed. My personal position as a Canadian-born, educated white male has long given me access to a wide variety of entry points, many of which are not available to people of colour, of a particular class or caste, or gender: as an advisor to different governments and government departments, as a representative of a rural CBNRM forum, as an educator of youth across the Global North and South, as a Board member of NGOs and tertiary organizations, as a trainer of trainers in conflict resolution, and as a researcher/practitioner increasingly disembodied from his ‘field of study’. 

Life in Schizodemia

Part of my problem has to do with self-policing. As an academic, I am faced with earnest, hope-filled youth on a daily basis. Moreover, I am in a School of Environment, Enterprise and Development in a Faculty of Environment. Every one of my students believes that human-induced climate change is about to put an end to this little ‘Enlightenment project’ first undertaken by a sub-set of Europeans some two plus centuries ago. They don’t put it this way, but they are seriously depressed — and the pandemic, which has brought into relief every pathology of the current system — exacerbates that sense of impending doom. Moreover, I am a professor of international development, which means that these young environmentalists also want to end poverty and increase the world’s gross national happiness. So, I feel compelled to emphasize a story based on agency: that no matter how many problems there are, this will always keep you employed. That the poor have no time for our pessimism. These are my ‘go-to’ statements meant to galvanize the flagging morale of our youth. 

Theoretically, I have introduced them to critical theory, and tell them that change is not a managed, linear process toward progress, but a result of constant struggle, and of fighting for what you believe in, and that there is just as good a chance that we will reverse course as we will proceed as hoped. But these statements which are meant to be provocative are drowned out by the ‘can do’ nature of my university. Where innovation and creative destruction, where an app and a start-up will save the world. And maybe they will, who am I to say? But scaling up will be no easy feat. Moreover, our School is embedded within the SDG ‘system’ through the SDSN - the sustainable development solutions network. We therefore stand at the epi-centre of liberal do-goodism where, if we can just get enough money together all will be fine. As Jeff Sachs told us at the launch of SDSN Canada, ‘make friends with a billionaire’. 

So, not only am I surrounded by liberal dogma, I peddle it myself either indirectly through my silence and self-policing or directly through my over-emphasis on agency as opposed to structure.

What’s so bad about liberalism you might ask? Speaking at an organization and to an audience where many are calling for the decolonization of the academy, of pedagogy, and of the curriculum, the answer might be obvious, but it is always good to remind ourselves from time to time. About 25 years ago, I taught a course on political theory at the University of Botswana. As I said to them then, it was a course about DWEMs - dead white European men - and their ideas and the challenge for me was how to show the universalism of some of these insights to young Batswana residing in a country that was at the time designated the embodiment of the liberal ideal in Africa. There is much to be said about liberalism but for brevity’s sake and in support of my argument here, let me make three points. 

One, late 20th C liberalism served as the handmaiden of Western political and economic power. Perhaps the ideas of John Stuart Mill or Adam Smith stand on their own and resonate with many people in the continent. But the delivery of late 20th C liberalism in Africa was a disciplinary enterprise. This sounds contradictory: how can notions of liberty be associated with oppression? Quite simply, when you are told that we have reached the end of history, as Fukuyama put it, then you crowd out any new or contrary ideas. Perfected over the 1980s and 90s, these cross-conditionalities of governance, far from assisting a continent reeling from the debt crisis, reaffirmed the continent’s position as raw material provider for the factories of the world. One cannot understand the problems and possibilities for natural resource management without understanding Africa’s position at the margins of the global political economy. 

Two, liberalism has long been critiqued as a Western way of knowing one’s self in the world. In this world view, the individual is the centre point of being and knowing. This contrasts with non-Western world views which emphasise the community. Ubuntu is a good example of this: a person is a person through other people. Contrast this with Margaret Thatcher’s famous phrase: ‘there’s no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look after themselves first.’ This is a very Hobbesian view of social relations it seems to me: that a Leviathan - a government - is necessary in order to keep us from the unavoidable harm we cause others and ourselves through the pursuit of our personal interests. Forty years of Thatcherism has badly undermined any sense of us as being persons through other persons, of community, of society, of a greater social good. It is no accident that Apple named it the ‘I’ phone. This selfish way of behaving has undermined almost any collective social project, and where socialist sensibilities exist, these are being routinely undermined by the logic of liberalism: the state must be minimized, people must be free to pursue their own interests. It is I, me, mine. 

Third, in line with the first two points above, liberal democracy has hollowed out the meaning of political engagement, and of the relationship of the state to civil society. Liberal democracy is tantamount to voting once every four years after which those in power ignore the citizens and do as they wish. This government has four years to loot the state - looking after yourself and your family, as Thatcher would have put it - before the citizenry is once again ‘free’ at election time (as Rousseau put it) to throw them out and put in place yet another set of kleptocratic ‘rulers’. At the same time, liberal economics commodifies everything. If you want something preserved, such as a public park, you must find a way to make it pay for itself. Otherwise, the land will be turned over to condo-development. Resistance to these models of political and economic liberalism will be disciplined and punished. The bond rating agencies will ruin a country’s credit rating, should it aim to put people before profit. The IFIs will cut off any loans should governments resist privatizing state-run enterprise. 

It is not only Africa that has suffered at the hands of classical and Neo-liberal dogma. One must remember that structural adjustment was first visited upon the UK and the U.S.A. before it was forced on the Global South. To reiterate: liberalism is a disciplinary force that emphasizes the individual above the collective, and capitalist enterprise above all else. The role of the state, therefore, is to facilitate capitalist enterprise. The global impacts of this philosophy are clear and increasingly challenged by scholars and some state-makers. COVID-19 has brought the pathologies of early 21st C liberalism into broad relief: those most negatively impacted are the poor, the immune compromised, women, and people of colour. They are all of those pushed to the political and economic margins of the neoliberal global political economy. 

This is the largely unstated and unacknowledged framework into which ‘natural resource managers’ step. It is the elephant in the room. It is the same world, occupied by the same array of people. Why, then, do we expect our environmental management attempts to succeed? Let me turn to a discussion of the largely liberal set of concepts and frameworks for natural resources management on offer, and to highlight some of the so-called ‘white elephants’ that they have constructed.

Concepts and Frameworks (in no particular order)

The language of resource management and governance revolves around the core idea of benefit-sharing and multiple ‘wins’, arguing that a successful management strategy will ensure resource sustainability, social equity, and economic efficiency. More crudely: people, planet, profit. In other words, the environment will not be harmed but in fact biodiversity will be enhanced; use of the resource will not be a zero-sum game, but benefit all stakeholders despite their manifestly different interests, positions and world views; and be cost effective, so not causing a financial drain on anyone’s bank account, perhaps even turning a profit. I’ve listed some of the central concepts, frameworks, goals and methods below. 

Concepts/Frameworks: 
MDGs/SDGs
IWRM
CBNRM
WEF Nexus
TFCAs
Peace Parks
REDD/REDD+

Goals:
Benefit sharing
Peacebuilding
Poverty alleviation
Biodiversity preservation
Sustainability
Sustainable Development
Environmental Justice
Resilience

Methods:
Adaptive management
Co-management
Ecosystem services
Stakeholder engagement
Ecotourism
PPPs/PPCPs
Entrepreneurship
Social enterprise
Multiple-use systems

At the heart of every one of these frameworks, goals and methods is the idea that the circle may be squared, that incommensurate interests, belief systems, capacities can be brought into alignment for multiple 'wins'. That everyone can be made better off through the application of money, technology, human ingenuity and good will. 

Peace Parks

Let's just take the example of 'peace parks', which are transfrontier managment areas - transfrontier in the sense that they are managed by two or more sovereign states in a sort of 'sovereignty bargain', to quote Keck and Sikkink. Who could be against a 'peace park', against 'peace'? The World Commission on Protected Areas (Sandwith et al., 2001: 3) presents a long list of possible benefits:
 

• Promoting, celebrating, and/or commemorating peace and cooperation among people;
• Building trust, understanding, reconciliation, and cooperation between and among countries, communities, agencies, and stakeholders;
• Preventing and/or resolving tension across community or national boundaries, including over access to natural resources;
• Promoting the resolution of armed conflict and/or reconciliation following armed conflict;
• Supporting long-term co-operative conservation of biodiversity, ecosystem services, and natural and cultural values across boundaries;
• Promoting ecosystem management through integrated bioregional land-use planning and management;
• Sharing biodiversity and cultural resource management skills and experience, including cooperative research;
• Promoting more efficient and effective cooperative management programs;
• Promoting access to, and equitable and sustainable use of natural resources, consistent with national sovereignty; and
• Enhancing the benefits of conservation and promoting benefit-sharing across boundaries.

 
As suggested by this long list, ‘the orientation in conservation and development is always future positive’ (Buscher, 2013: 107), revealing an almost unshakeable belief in the benefits to be had from peace park establishment irrespective of the complexity of the undertaking. Make no mistake, however, at the heart of the movement for TBCA establishment is conservation. For Ali (2010: 25), ‘Transboundary conservation is an essential part of meeting the goals of ecological regionalism. Since natural systems transcend political borders, management approaches must also aspire to transcend physical and cognitive barriers.’ Natural landscapes are overwhelmingly fragmented by human land use decisions and practices. Thus, TBCAs are regarded as one means of recovering the natural rhythms of flora and fauna while reaping anscillary benefits such as trust-building and encouraging habits of cooperation among and between often antagonistic sovereign states (Conca and Dabelko, 2002).

In no particular order, the dominant drivers behind TBCAs seem to be:
 

• Biodiversity preservation 
• A symbol of positive existing inter-state relations 
• A symbol of potentially positive future inter-state relations 
• Enhanced formal state(s) control of border regions 
• Enhanced global governance of a ‘bioregion’ 
• Direct response to an on-going conflict or security threat 
• National economic wealth creation through tourism development 

 
What should be clear about this list is the near total absence of the interests of those who inhabit the physical spaces where the park is intended to be established. Peace parks are, in the first instance, the result of deals made by powerful state and non-state actors in the interest of ideologically driven concepts: conservationism; nationalism; developmentalism; regionalism. It is not that these ideals are inherently problematic; rather, their grand articulation – i.e. global public goods; bioregional preservation; national economic development; regional integration – like elephants, crowd out the needs and interests of those on the ground, at the place of the proposed intervention. In this way, peace parks mark a continuation of the struggle that conservationists have faced for decades: what to do about local people (Adams and McShane, 1996)? As Duffy (2001: 6), paraphrasing Neumann (1988), puts it: ‘[C]urrent demands from local communities for the power to control, use and access environmental resources are not the same as plans for local participation in externally driven conservation schemes and commitments to local benefit sharing’. 

 

What I am saying here is that conservation is no different from any other land use decision, and as such it is rife with a political economy of power: who gets to do what where.

Because it is about an incontestible global good - e.g. 'peace' or 'biodiversity preservation' - and future positive in relation to 'poverty alleviation' and 'job creation' as well, the dominant discourses of conservation choose deliberately to cast themselves somehow as above politics, and so are artificially severed off from it. So what to do?

My Own Analysis

I was reading a review of Kurt Andersen’s new book, Evil Geniuses: the Unmaking of America. The review was written by Anand Giridharadas, who is the author of among other things, Winners Take All: The Elite Charade of Changing the World. He describes Andersen’s book as ‘a radicalized moderate’s moderate case for radical change’, and immediately I thought: that sounds a lot like me: desirous of radical change, but afraid of what I would lose in the endeavour. 

As a radical moderate, I put great stock in Bob Cox’s advice to avoid ‘cynical politics’ - i.e. get it while you can - and pursue instead ‘clinical politics’. In some ways this echoes John Holloway’s argument in Crack Capitalism: watch for openings and then occupy those spaces. Holloway thinks that if all of those interested in radical change occupy enough of the cracks emergent in the capitalist world system, then a new world is possible. It is up to us to prefigure that world, i.e. to imagine what it will look like, and then pursue strategic measures to realize it. In the same way, Cox argues that opportunities emerge in world order and we must be clinical in our actions, ready and willing to act in a meaningful way. 

I also mollify myself by saying that not everyone can ‘heighten the contradictions from the inside’, to paraphrase Marx. It matters (perhaps in some small way) that I have the opportunity to be in the room where some of these concepts are worked out, some of the methods are debated, and some of the goals are shaped. I need to take the opportunity to press the case for radical revisioning as opposed to simply limited reforms. At the same time, I must guard against the possibility that as Irving L. Janis talked about in his seminal study, Victims of Groupthink, that I may be the domesticated dissenter - the tolerable radical. 

I also put great store in Cox’s heuristic device of the constellation of social forces: how is power laid out in a social formation? What sorts of power are being wielded? Cox speaks of ideational, material, and institutional forms of power. Without doubt, ideas matter. Just think of all the resources that have been given over to the pursuit of the driverless car. The constellation of social forces will shift as forms of power change. Does the coronavirus offer us an opportunity to fundamentally alter this constellation? At the start of the pandemic, I was hopeful that it would. But as the pandemic has played out, rather than draw us together in common cause, it has made clear how deeply neoliberalism has altered the global social fabric. 

What then should we do with all of our environmentalism? Our dreams of sustainable development through poverty alleviating ecotourism? My wife, who has a PhD in urban planning, argues that if we are going to do this kind of work, we have to be constantly self-reflective, especially as privileged Western white people. Self critique matters, without doubt. But one doubts if those with the resources - those at the centre of the constellation of social forces - reflect at all. Liberalism offers a concise and seemingly sensible world view for those who are already doing just fine. Social media happily reinforces not only their rightness and goodness, but the evils of alternative explanations. There is little room for manoeuvre. My own approach is to search for cracks and to pursue clinical politics at whatever scale possible. As for the Anthropocene, I am back to Gramsci: the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.

 

The SDGs and the global pandemic

The SDGs and the Global Pandemic

Larry A. Swatuk, PhD, University of Waterloo

To paraphrase Shakespeare, 'SDGs, SDGs, Wherefore Art Thou, SDGs?' The Sustainable Development Goals were meant to act as a global roadmap to sustainable, equitable, efficient, and just forms of development by the year 2030. What the coronavirus pandemic shows us is that we are more likely to end up in violent conflict than we are to eliminate any, let alone all, of the 17 global goals.

Let's break down the pandemic in terms of goals themselves. SDG 17 revolves around cooperation and collaboration. In order to achieve the global goals, we must work together. What the pandemic has shown us that states have run off madly in all directions, often working at cross-purposes, happy to point a finger rather than lend a hand. Without collaboration there will be no end to the pandemic and without an end to the pandemic the world will spiral down toward dysfunctionality rather than up to a higher state of sustainability. A good deal of the problem derives from the barriers set up to ensure that SDG 9 (Build resilient infrastructure, promote inclusive and sustainable industrialization and foster innovation) will fail. SDG 10 focuses on reducing global inequality; however, for more than three decades the world has moved toward worsening inequality, with greater concentrations of wealth at the top than at any time in history. This impacts SDG 8 (the world of work), where neoliberal globalization has allowed corporations to outsource their dirtiest work to the Global South (from textile manufacturing in places such as Bangladesh and Dominican Republic, to commodity production and processing such as palm oil across the Tropics to sweatshop production of higher end commodities in places such as Vietnam, China and Mexico). This process has created the 'rust belts' across middle-America that are ripe for nationalist picking (Make America Great Again) and driven much of the labour across the Global North into white (high finance, insurance) and blue (McJobs; gig economy) collar services. The pandemic has exposed the frailty of a system built on mass exploitation. The UN estimates that more than 130 million people may be driven into poverty by 2030 (SDG 1) as a result of the pandemic. Personally, I think this number is low by a factor of ten. It also exposes the frailty of a global economy reliant on just in time production, and of Western economies so dependent on constant demand and consumption: tell everyone to stay home - without a plan - and the result is 30 million Americans unemployed in less than two months. 

Perhaps the most telling failure aside from unemployment, is the failure of the global food system. SDG 2 speaks to achieving no hunger, yet while there is more than enough food produced around the world to feed everyone, some 40 milliion Americans - the richest economy in the world - are forced to use food stamps to stave off household hunger. Elsewhere around the world, people are playing a sort of roulette: starve and stay at home, eat and risk contracting covid-19. Following on from SDG 2 is SDG 3 related to health. What coronvirus has exposed with shocking clarity is the complex array of social factors that lead to some being relatively secure (with the U.S. President being tested daily and requiring anyone who comes in contact with him to wear a mask) to those who are compounding acute health problems (COVID 19) with chronic problems (most related to inadequate nutrition and poor diet in fact). The prospect of famine looms across the Global South while European and American farmers slaughter their animals unable to get to market in the millions.

SDG 4 concerns education for all, yet the pandemic has brought all education to a virtual standstill and pushed tertiary education institutions around the world to the brink of collapse. With the prospect of students unable to travel to their institution of choice in the Fall, not only are universities facing bankruptcy but so are towns and cities (SDG 11) around the world. The knock on effects of the pandemic illustrate quite clearly how all SDGs are intimately integrated. 

SDG 5 is about gender equity, and what the pandemic is showing us is the way in which women are most seriously affected in so many different ways: women are most at risk as they work 'essential services', most nurses and many doctors are female and struggle with the absence of PPEs; the lockdowns have exacerbated problematic gender relations, heightening women's exposure to domestic violence. The list goes on as 'stay at home' means women's role in agriculture, education, health care etc. is under acute pressure so jeoparizing household livelihood security, for example. 

Water and sanitation for all (SDG 6) is a lofty goal, but when protection from the virus requires you to wash your hands frequently with warm water, it is clear that perhaps one billion people are inadequately prepared for this. States have long ingored the sanitation side of water provision, and farmed out water provision to private sector and NGO actors in urban and rural areas. This abdication of responsibliity for providing citizens with equitable access to enough water of appropriate quality has heightened the pre-existing gross inequalities (and therefore insecurities) among citizens due to class, race, gender, caste, age and other cross-cutting variables (SDG 10).

The global economic slowdown (indeed, the UN estimates that the world economy will shrink by 3.2% in 2020) has crashed demand for fossil fuels so challenging governments to think creatively post-pandemic. Yet, the oil industries are lobbying hard for government assistance to help them survive (as if their pockets aren't already deep enough). What will governments do? Will they pursue orthodox bailouts of the very industries that are assembling the landscape for not only the pandemic but other system stressing crises to manifest, or will they use this moment to push beyond carbon, supporting research and development not only for renewable energy but new forms of wealth creation (SDG 9), aiming to build jobs in a new economy (SDG 8), not an old one? As 'shovel ready' projects are being contemplated, the jury is out.

Much of the global economy depends on the high functioning inter-connectness of 'global cities': transportation hubs; technology centres; and simply concentrated areas of consumer demand. Many cities too are hotbeds of coronavirus infection. The way urban spaces have been organized illustrate not only the way the virus can proliferate, but also how, under pandemic lockdown, the city is a also a hotbed of problems of mental health: absence of green spaces; poor walkability. Global South mega-cities are another sort of extreme, where 'sheltering in place' means having zero ability to social distance. It also links to food insecurity (SDG 2) and poverty (SDG 1) since slum dwellers must engage in piecemeal work, mostly in the informal economy, for day wages in order to feed themselves and the family. To shut this down is to guarantee not a pandemic, but starvation and most likely citizen revolt.

Enter SDG 16 again, on good governance. It is clear that too may governments have used the pandemic as an excuse to expand their powers, clamp down on dissent, and institute new mechanisms of citizen surveillance that may have short term utility in monitoring the pandemic, but more worryingly, longer term utility in fostering anti-democratic practices.

The pandemic provides us with a glimpse behind the curtain of preparedness in relation to a global system wide shock. How we respond now will tell us a great deal about how we will deal with coming climate shocks. This pandemic provides the world with an opportunity to not merely respond to a global threat, but to critically reflect on the preparedness of our so-called systems to cope with shock and not only bounce back but return in a better, more-prepared form for the next shock down the road, i.e. climate change (SDG 13). In disaster risk reduction speak, this means building back better. It doesn't mean building back as it was before, but learning the lessons of the crisis, and making the necessary changes. The world is on course for the greatest cut in carbon emissions ever. The planet is getting a bit of a breather. Life under water and on land (SDGs 14 and 15) are in some cases recovering from consistent over-exploitation by human activity. We are ready for the great reset. Will we learn our lessons well?

This brings me back to SDGs 17 (cooperation) and 16 (peace, security, governance). As I said at the outset, we are now faced with a choice: pull together and flourish, or pull apart and perish. The early indications are not good. The world's states and peoples have committed to Agenda 2030. The SDGs should be front and centre in discussions about moving forward, in addressing the pandemic, in adjusting our current systems, and in building back better. But in the cacophanous clamour of short-term state-specific crisis management, those voices calling for coordinated medium term thinking are unheard. Perhaps the SDGs can serve as a platform from which to launch the great global reset.