Unfortunately, climate policy really is a matter of money, and Europe doesn't have any to spare right now
A protester gestures in front of a banner outside the UN-led climate talks in Durban, South Africa / Reuters
Who will lead the world on climate change? The U.S. Democratic party's will and strength for big legislation is still sapped by the health care push and the ongoing spending fights. Booming China, which will become the world's largest greenhouse gas emitter in 2009 -- though still behind U.S. on a per-capita basis -- has always seen plenty of incentive to not bow to after-the-fact Western moans about carbon caps.* The European Union and its member states have long been the among the few encouraging political actors for environmentalists.
But, as the United Nations climate talks in Durban currently underway now show, when it comes to international carbon agreements, you might not even be able to count on Europe any more.
"We must certainly lower our expectations of what 'success' is," German chancellor Angela Merkel said over the weekend. Though Merkel went on to describe reluctance among "emerging market" nations to accept binding targets, German reports on the comment recognize a new emerging reality: the problem isn't just the developing nations -- the problem is that Europe isn't really in a position to lead at present. Public and political attention is focused on the debt crisis and the specter of austerity-led recession. Resources that might have gone into helping poorer nations deal with climate change or promoting alternative energy innovations are already pledged to bailouts.
"Who knows what's going on with climate change?" asked French paper Libération last Monday. "With the euro and sovereign debt crisis, it's dropped out of the international agenda." The writer declared that the Durban negotiations opened amid "relative indifference." Though the EU remains the only actor with any clout willing to make a real reduction commitment, and stands on the side of small island states in wanting a legal deal finalized by 2015, climate change has, out of necessity, dropped a few rungs on its list of priorities. "Since the Copenhagen summit and with the current economic crisis, we've seen a real slackening: in France it's not a subject, in Europe it's not a subject, in the U.S. it's even worse," the Libération piece quoted an unnamed French diplomat as saying.
To be sure, there was pessimism about binding international agreements long before this. But in addition, notes Andreas Mihm in Durban-based analysis for German paper Die Zeit, "the large industrial states have, in the face of the sovereign debt crisis, slashed budgets for climate control." Germany, unsurprisingly for those who have been following the crisis, remains the best positioned to continue marking money for environmental purposes, but one has to wonder how many mouths, exactly, Europe's de facto banking country can continue to feed. Mihm points out that Germany is already cutting its climate change budget back by 1.5 billion euros, while elsewhere in Europe "the cuts are even deeper" -- 3.8 billion euros reassigned in Spain, and 3.1 billion likely to be pulled in the UK.
Unfortunately, climate policy really is a matter of money, and how much a country can, politically and financially, afford. It's not just that things like carbon taxes or caps, for example, temporarily take chunks of potential productivity out of the economy; even many economists feel a so-called Pigovian tax on emissions would be an appropriate way to balance out the "externality" of climate change, which is left unaccounted for in traditional market models. There's also a large financial component to the proposed international agreements at this point: developing nations want and in many cases need loans to adapt to climate change and to nudge their economies in the direction of lower emissions. Even within developed countries, enacting policies to meet such targets is expensive: there are alternative energy subsidies to consider, incentives to manipulate, and even carbon markets to create and regulate.
The French Minister for Ecology, Nathalie Kosciusko-Morizet, has been quoted admitting on Friday that there is a risk of "explosion" in the European bloc due to internal divisions.
As the French paper Libération observes, even if Europe were to stick to its proposed course, that would account for only 16 percent of global emissions. What international climate policy requires is momentum and forceful leadership. Where, exactly, is that likely to be found in the present political climate?
*Monday, China did offer up at least a show of cooperation, suggesting, as reported by the Wall Street Journal, that it might accept legally binding reductions after 2020 if the U.S. and others made progress in the meantime.
Should you drink more coffee? Should you take melatonin? Can you train yourself to need less sleep? A physician’s guide to sleep in a stressful age.
During residency, Iworked hospital shifts that could last 36 hours, without sleep, often without breaks of more than a few minutes. Even writing this now, it sounds to me like I’m bragging or laying claim to some fortitude of character. I can’t think of another type of self-injury that might be similarly lauded, except maybe binge drinking. Technically the shifts were 30 hours, the mandatory limit imposed by the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education, but we stayed longer because people kept getting sick. Being a doctor is supposed to be about putting other people’s needs before your own. Our job was to power through.
The shifts usually felt shorter than they were, because they were so hectic. There was always a new patient in the emergency room who needed to be admitted, or a staff member on the eighth floor (which was full of late-stage terminally ill people) who needed me to fill out a death certificate. Sleep deprivation manifested as bouts of anger and despair mixed in with some euphoria, along with other sensations I’ve not had before or since. I remember once sitting with the family of a patient in critical condition, discussing an advance directive—the terms defining what the patient would want done were his heart to stop, which seemed likely to happen at any minute. Would he want to have chest compressions, electrical shocks, a breathing tube? In the middle of this, I had to look straight down at the chart in my lap, because I was laughing. This was the least funny scenario possible. I was experiencing a physical reaction unrelated to anything I knew to be happening in my mind. There is a type of seizure, called a gelastic seizure, during which the seizing person appears to be laughing—but I don’t think that was it. I think it was plain old delirium. It was mortifying, though no one seemed to notice.
A report will be shared with lawmakers before Trump’s inauguration, a top advisor said Friday.
Updated at 2:20 p.m.
President Obama asked intelligence officials to perform a “full review” of election-related hacking this week, and plans will share a report of its findings with lawmakers before he leaves office on January 20, 2017.
Deputy White House Press Secretary Eric Schultz said Friday that the investigation will reach all the way back to 2008, and will examine patterns of “malicious cyber-activity timed to election cycles.” He emphasized that the White House is not questioning the results of the November election.
Asked whether a sweeping investigation could be completed in the time left in Obama’s final term—just six weeks—Schultz replied that intelligence agencies will work quickly, because the preparing the report is “a major priority for the president of the United States.”
His paranoid style paved the road for Trumpism. Now he fears what’s been unleashed.
Glenn Beck looks like the dad in a Disney movie. He’s earnest, geeky, pink, and slightly bulbous. His idea of salty language is bullcrap.
The atmosphere at Beck’s Mercury Studios, outside Dallas, is similarly soothing, provided you ignore the references to genocide and civilizational collapse. In October, when most commentators considered a Donald Trump presidency a remote possibility, I followed audience members onto the set of The Glenn Beck Program, which airs on Beck’s website, theblaze.com. On the way, we passed through a life-size replica of the Oval Office as it might look if inhabited by a President Beck, complete with a portrait of Ronald Reagan and a large Norman Rockwell print of a Boy Scout.
The same part of the brain that allows us to step into the shoes of others also helps us restrain ourselves.
You’ve likely seen the video before: a stream of kids, confronted with a single, alluring marshmallow. If they can resist eating it for 15 minutes, they’ll get two. Some do. Others cave almost immediately.
This “Marshmallow Test,” first conducted in the 1960s, perfectly illustrates the ongoing war between impulsivity and self-control. The kids have to tamp down their immediate desires and focus on long-term goals—an ability that correlates with their later health, wealth, and academic success, and that is supposedly controlled by the front part of the brain. But a new study by Alexander Soutschek at the University of Zurich suggests that self-control is also influenced by another brain region—and one that casts this ability in a different light.
Why the ingrained expectation that women should desire to become parents is unhealthy
In 2008, Nebraska decriminalized child abandonment. The move was part of a "safe haven" law designed to address increased rates of infanticide in the state. Like other safe-haven laws, parents in Nebraska who felt unprepared to care for their babies could drop them off in a designated location without fear of arrest and prosecution. But legislators made a major logistical error: They failed to implement an age limitation for dropped-off children.
Within just weeks of the law passing, parents started dropping off their kids. But here's the rub: None of them were infants. A couple of months in, 36 children had been left in state hospitals and police stations. Twenty-two of the children were over 13 years old. A 51-year-old grandmother dropped off a 12-year-old boy. One father dropped off his entire family -- nine children from ages one to 17. Others drove from neighboring states to drop off their children once they heard that they could abandon them without repercussion.
How Vladimir Putin is making the world safe for autocracy
Since the end of World War II, the most crucial underpinning of freedom in the world has been the vigor of the advanced liberal democracies and the alliances that bound them together. Through the Cold War, the key multilateral anchors were NATO, the expanding European Union, and the U.S.-Japan security alliance. With the end of the Cold War and the expansion of NATO and the EU to virtually all of Central and Eastern Europe, liberal democracy seemed ascendant and secure as never before in history.
Under the shrewd and relentless assault of a resurgent Russian authoritarian state, all of this has come under strain with a speed and scope that few in the West have fully comprehended, and that puts the future of liberal democracy in the world squarely where Vladimir Putin wants it: in doubt and on the defensive.
Modern slot machines develop an unbreakable hold on many players—some of whom wind up losing their jobs, their families, and even, as in the case of Scott Stevens, their lives.
On the morning of Monday, August 13, 2012, Scott Stevens loaded a brown hunting bag into his Jeep Grand Cherokee, then went to the master bedroom, where he hugged Stacy, his wife of 23 years. “I love you,” he told her.
Stacy thought that her husband was off to a job interview followed by an appointment with his therapist. Instead, he drove the 22 miles from their home in Steubenville, Ohio, to the Mountaineer Casino, just outside New Cumberland, West Virginia. He used the casino ATM to check his bank-account balance: $13,400. He walked across the casino floor to his favorite slot machine in the high-limit area: Triple Stars, a three-reel game that cost $10 a spin. Maybe this time it would pay out enough to save him.
“Well, you’re just special. You’re American,” remarked my colleague, smirking from across the coffee table. My other Finnish coworkers, from the school in Helsinki where I teach, nodded in agreement. They had just finished critiquing one of my habits, and they could see that I was on the defensive.
I threw my hands up and snapped, “You’re accusing me of being too friendly? Is that really such a bad thing?”
“Well, when I greet a colleague, I keep track,” she retorted, “so I don’t greet them again during the day!” Another chimed in, “That’s the same for me, too!”
Unbelievable, I thought. According to them, I’m too generous with my hellos.
When I told them I would do my best to greet them just once every day, they told me not to change my ways. They said they understood me. But the thing is, now that I’ve viewed myself from their perspective, I’m not sure I want to remain the same. Change isn’t a bad thing. And since moving to Finland two years ago, I’ve kicked a few bad American habits.
Why did Trump’s choice for national-security advisor perform so well in the war on terror, only to find himself forced out of the Defense Intelligence Agency?
How does a man like retired Lieutenant General Mike Flynn—who spent his life sifting through information and parsing reports, separating rumor and innuendo from actionable intelligence—come to promote conspiracy theories on social media?
Perhaps it’s less Flynn who’s changed than that the circumstances in which he finds himself—thriving in some roles, and flailing in others.
In diagnostic testing, there’s a basic distinction between sensitivity, or the ability to identify positive results, and specificity, the ability to exclude negative ones. A test with high specificity may avoid generating false positives, but at the price of missing many diagnoses. One with high sensitivity may catch those tricky diagnoses, but also generate false positives along the way. Some people seem to sift through information with high sensitivity, but low specificity—spotting connections that others can’t, and perhaps some that aren’t even there.
Progressive groups will launch a coalition aimed at pressuring Republicans bent on repealing the Affordable Care Act.
Democrats who have struggled for years to sell the public on the Affordable Care Act are now confronting a far more urgent task: mobilizing a political coalition to save it.
Even as the party reels from last month’s election defeat, members of Congress, operatives, and liberal allies have turned to plotting a campaign against repealing the law that, they hope, will rival the Tea Party uprising of 2009 that nearly scuttled its passage in the first place. A group of progressive advocacy groups will announce on Friday a coordinated effort to protect the beneficiaries of the Affordable Care Act and stop Republicans from repealing the law without first identifying a plan to replace it.
They don’t have much time to fight back. Republicans on Capitol Hill plan to set repeal of Obamacare in motion as soon as the new Congress opens in January, and both the House and Senate could vote to wind down the law immediately after President-elect Donald Trump takes the oath of office on the 20th.