Climate change is a mental health issue
And part of a solarpunk present…
Content warning: this article briefly talks about depression, suicide, and self-harm
In the course of researching for my thesis, I read a lot of things: scholarly books, articles, essays… but also lots of pulpy science fiction (of course), and also a lot of recent online articles (usually news or journalism) about climate change and its effects.
The recent essays and articles that I read had a fascinating overlap: they were talking about climate, but they were also talking about mental health. Mental health issues such as depression and anxiety are a natural corollary of experiencing the climate changing.
(I have my own thoughts about how that leads to the very concept of the climate, or the environment more broadly, being a mental untouchable or taboo topic, that many peoples’ thoughts automatically shy away from; a way that their minds are helping to insulate and protect them from a negative psychosomatic experience. Thus, why it can be so difficult for many to address climate change because our very minds are refusing to allow us to face the scary thing directly, because it kicks up such a strong instinctual fight/flight/freeze response. But, this is a tangent, and one I am extremely underqualified to take. Someone call in some psychologists…)
Back in 2005, philosopher Glenn Albrecht coined the term “solastalgia”, which is a neologism that, according to the author in a 2007 article for PubMed, operates
As opposed to nostalgia--the melancholia or homesickness experienced by individuals when separated from a loved home--solastalgia is the distress that is produced by environmental change impacting on people while they are directly connected to their home environment.
When I started researching (only 8 years ago!), this was one of the only publicly accessible and known terms (in English) outside of a specific niche of (western) academia to describe this phenomenon of the way that climate change can be pretty entwined with significant mental health issues.
Albrecht is Australian. He used the examples of open-pit coal mining, or deforestation. In the almost twenty years since that publication, I think the global community can add phenomena such as catastrophic wildfires, persistent and ruinous sea-level rise, tailing ponds spillage, industrial water poisoning, widespread drought, melting permafrost, century floods, and more to that list.
This is part of why I was so keen to do an interview about climate grief chaplaincy, which I had never heard of before. Even now, only two years later, therapists and psychologists are starting to advertise climate-focused services. On the one hand, I am so very glad that assistance is being offered to those who need it. On the other, I’m big mad about how, yet again, the issue of climate change is being framed as an individual problem.
At least chaplaincy is very conscious of community—as Gabrielle explains in the episode, there is a strong tradition of movement chaplaincy among activist groups in the so-called United States that is tuned into a more collective experience and casts climate change in that light (more appropriately, I feel).
Solarpunk’s dream of a just, sustainable future isn’t solely for bodies. There’s an aspect of being human - our mind, our mental health, our intangible selves, our spirit, what some would call our soul - that merits careful attention as well. I imagine that any community that is truly solarpunk pays just as much attention to what cannot be quantified about the human experience as what can be.
And if we are to have a hope of attaining that care-ful attention to the human being as a whole, it would behoove us to begin practicing thinking about, caring for, and paying attention to that aspect of our selves in the present day.
One way to do this would be for any climate journalism, going forward, to include links and references to local climate helplines, actions, and groups as relevant to the discussion in the article, in the same way that articles dealing with suicide, self-harm, depression, and other extremely difficult topics are already doing.
Realizing the mental toll that a swiftly-changing-for-the-worse climate has on readers, especially young people, is to my mind a journalistic duty of care. It has been shown many times that an important mitigating factor of climate anxiety and climate grief is the chance afforded to do something, to act on the knowledge that the reader has just learned. Another huge mitigating factor is not feeling alone in the face of overwhelming odds and at the mercy of negative feelings.
In the midst of my studying, I began to volunteer at my local food bank, for example. Being in the community and having a tangible way to help other humans (and knowing that I was helping to ease their burdens of anxiety and stress, as well as cope with the food shortages induced by climate change and lend a hand to an organization struggling to help its members) was extremely helpful in mitigating my own dark night of the soul of post-apocalyptic despair and grief in that moment.
Did it solve everything? Nope. Did it make my climate anxiety disappear? Not a chance. But it helped ease it generally, and for four hours a week it banished my anxieties around the climate almost completely; in my experience, it’s hard to feel shitty when I’m not afforded the luxury of dread, but instead am in the midst of facing (a corner of) the issue head-on.
I discovered solarpunk on Tumblr back in the twenty-teens, and I was hooked. Part of why I like solarpunk so much is the emphasis on doing what you can, when you can, to make things better now - even if it’s just the corner of the neighbourhood you live in. The effect on mental health of even just picking up litter can be tremendous. Another reason I’m such a fan of solarpunk is that it is a shared experience, one where terms like ‘climate grief’ and ‘climate anxiety’ aren’t up for debate but instead are nuanced and treated seriously, and it is a diverse community to be part of, one that continually evolves and changes and isn’t afraid to have difficult conversations, respectuflly. Access to feeling better in the face of the denial and despair of the Anthropocene should be available to everyone, no matter where they are or who they are.
What do you do to mitigate your own negative climate emotions? I’m no longer able to volunteer at that food bank (I moved, and now I can’t lift things for health reasons, it’s a whole thing…), but I’m part of my local community garden, which helps to mitigate food scarcity and improve neighbourhood resiliency and community. Tell me what you get up to, or hope to get up to in future!