In 1997, the challenge was how to divvy up the atmosphere equitably. Countries like the United States, Australia, and Canada were heavy emitters, whereas countries like Russia were “under-emitters,” since their antiquated and polluting industries were not globally competitive and were being forced to shut down; on a per capita basis, therefore, Russian people already had a lower emission output than the global emission target to be set at Kyoto. So, it was argued, such countries should be allowed to sell their “unused” share of the atmosphere to companies or countries that might not meet the target. This was a ludicrous idea, however, because even the lower emission rates were above the rates that would have to be reached to enable all greenhouse gases to be absorbed by plants. Allowing others to pay for the low emitters' “share” of the atmosphere was merely a loophole permitting those who had enough money to keep on polluting.
Alberta sent a delegation to lobby against the Kyoto negotiations. I remember Rahim Jaffer, the right-wing Reform party's member of Parliament from Edmonton, Alberta, loudly denying the evidence that climate change was happening, even though the overwhelming majority of delegates were not disputing the science. Europeans were appalled at the intransigence of the official JUSCANZ delegates, especially from the United States, which is the largest emitter on the planet; they were determined to set lower emissions targets. A stalemate loomed between those calling for significant reductions on the order of 15 percent below 1990 levels and those arguing that such goals were far too costly and ineffective. I didn't have access to the official Australian and American delegates, but environmentalists from the two countries were out-spoken in their condemnation of the position of their governments. Many American environmentalists pinned their hopes on the arrival of U.S. vice president Al Gore.
Day after day the circus continued, as environmental groups performed a variety of stunts to try to gain attention from the media. Randy Hayes, the head of the Rainforest Action Network, led a conga line through the building to protest the position of his own country, the United States. I've always admired Randy for his originality and daring in the way he does things. I attended another conference in Japan at which he infuriated journalists by calling Japan an “environmental bandit.”
At Kyoto, the David Suzuki Foundation called a press conference in which we used stacks of pop cans to illustrate the disparity in energy use by industrialized and developing countries. Energy use by an average person in African countries like Zimbabwe was represented by 1 can, India and China by 5 and 15 cans, respectively, and Japan and European countries by 55 to 65 cans. Canada came near the top with 96, and the U.S. was tops with a whopping 120 cans. It made for a great photo.
The JUSCANZ allies were at loggerheads with the European Union, which wanted an aggressive approach to reducing emissions. Again, cynics argued that EU nations could make deeper cuts more easily. For example, Germany was aided by the fact that when East and West Germany were united, the antiquated, polluting plants of East Germany were shut down, thereby reducing the unified country's overall output and making it easier to meet targets. Since then, however, Germany has become the world leader in wind power, erecting windmills at home and exporting the technology abroad. Germany stands as a shining example of the opportunities created by taking the challenge seriously. Great Britain was also phasing out its outmoded coal-burning plants and therefore would find it easier to meet any target. Since then, however, Prime Minister Tony Blair has committed the United Kingdom to a 60 percent reduction in greenhouse gas emissions by 2040 and promises that cuts can be ramped up even further if the science demands it. Now that is a serious commitment.
BECAUSE OF JUSCANZ OPPOSITION, it began to look as if the proceedings would fail. But then Vice President Gore arrived. Environmentalists adored him because, as he described in his book Earth in the Balance, he understood the issues.
In 1988, while preparing for the radio series It's a Matter of Survival, I had interviewed Gore when he was visiting Canada, and he sent shivers up my spine as he answered my questions; I had never heard a politician state the environmental situation so clearly, and he articulated the solutions that were needed to overcome the problems. At the end of the interview, I turned off the tape recorder and begged him to immigrate to Canada so that I could work to get him elected prime minister.
Then I asked more seriously, “How can journalists like me help politicians like you?” His answer surprised me and put me on the path I have followed to this day. He said, “Don't look to politicians like me. If you want change, you have to convince the public there is a problem, show them there are alternatives, and get them to care enough to demand that something be done. Then, every politician will trip over himself trying to get on the bandwagon.” Watching Gore perform as a presidential candidate in 2000, I felt the prescience of his advice to me. He didn't talk about the environment during his campaign because the American people weren't ready for it.
I had read Gore's book when it came out. It was a powerful document that I found very moving because he considered the environmental challenges from the standpoint of his Christian faith, parenthood, and politics. He didn't separate them into different areas but folded them together to come up with an integrated outlook and response. He pointed to the problems as he had encountered them as a journalist and politician, considered the implications as a parent and religious person, and outlined a program to respond to the threats, one that was both politically and economically sound. Upon his arrival in Kyoto, the environmental NGOs flocked around him as he brokered a deal with the EU countries. I later met an American environmentalist who had criticized Gore and the administration of U.S. president Bill Clinton for being too slow and too cautious, and he had been punished by being excluded from any further access to meetings with Gore. That's politics.
Much to the disgust of the private U.S. lobbyists, Gore settled for a target of a 6 percent reduction in greenhouse gas emissions by 2010. This was in 1997. Even if he had succeeded Clinton as president for two terms, he wouldn't be in office when the United States would be held to account for achieving the target, so it could be suggested he had nothing to lose by advancing the deal. Environmentalists hailed Gore as the savior of the Kyoto Protocol, which was signed by the attending delegates and would become law pending ratification by enough nations.
At the time, I was deeply disappointed because I knew Gore understood the implications of global warming and knew that deeper cuts were needed. In his book, he had called for massive investments in more efficient use of fossil fuels and in developing alternative energy sources, so a 6 percent cut seemed too trivial. But thinking now about the enormous lobbying pressure, I see his brokerage of an actual cut as a major step. The deal allowed Australia a huge concession — it would be the only industrialized country permitted to set an emissions target above 1990 levels (8 percent). All the others were expected to come in below that level.