• Home
  • Blog - Notes from a cliff-edge
  • Essays and Articles
  • Monographs
  • Edited books
  • Drawings, sketches, paintings
  • Letters to the Editor
  • Eco-Apocalypse Novels
  • openDemocracy
  • Social Media, Politics, Democracy
  • Managing Covid: a View from Political Ecology
  • Taking ‘Cli-Fi’ Seriously: comparing 'Flight Behaviour' and 'Solar'
  • Citizenship in the Anthropocene
  • Emancipation in the Anthropocene: taking the dialectic seriously

Notes from a cliff-edge

sweden reprised

12/23/2020

 
482 words; 4-minute read

On the 10th July I wrote a blog called ‘Two Cheers for Sweden’, arguing for a broader range of criteria for success in dealing with Covid-19 than just counting Coronavirus deaths. So how’s that going?  On the face of it things don’t look too good, and even the King of Sweden is now putting the boot in.  The Swedish light-touch approach was criticised at the outset for the country’s much higher death-rate then neighbouring Scandinavian countries. This remains the case. (But it’s also true that Sweden’s Covid death figures are still better than heavy lockdown countries such as the UK, Spain and Italy).
 
It’s fair to point out that my airy claim on 10th July that the Swedes would experience no second wave has been proved completely wrong. Along with much of the rest of Europe Sweden is in the grip of a second spike of cases, hospitalisations and deaths - with more deaths at the beginning of December than at any other time during the pandemic.
 
It’s also true that the Swedes are adopting measures that look increasingly mainstream: reducing public gatherings from 50 to 8, banning sales of alcohol after 10 pm, moving high school teaching online, and advising mask wearing.
 
So does this mean that the Swedish experiment has failed, and that those of us who held (hold?) a candle for it have been sadly misled? It’s only honest to say that things are less clear-cut and more complicated than they looked back in July.
 
But what seems to be happening is something like policy convergence in the short term. So just as Sweden is taking baby steps lifted from the lockdown playbook, so lockdown countries are moving their own red lines in the Swedish direction. This is most obvious in the schools context. Where Sweden was the outlier in keeping schools open at the beginning of the pandemic, now virtually everyone is doing it.
 
Beyond the short term, the Corona jury should stay out for a few months - maybe years - yet. The evidence on other criteria - the economy, children missing out on school for months, the mental health problems that go with lockdown and isolation, lonely deaths, divided families, the non-Covid patients missing out on treatment, an increase in domestic violence, and the corrosive effects of policing lockdown - will take a while to come in.
 
What the last few months do seem to have shown unequivocally is that calls to eliminate the virus are utter fantasy. The question remains how to live with it, and it could be that experience and experiment are distilling a series of practices that will serve us well in the next pandemic.
 
Because, give the total unwillingness to address the root causes of this one, there surely will be more.

the great conjunction

12/19/2020

 
411 words - 3 minute read​

While the particle a millionth of an inch long whose defences are destroyed by washing our hands in soap and water for 20 seconds, also known as Covid-19, continues to wreak havoc around the world, the cosmos is doing its best to entertain us.
 
Since the summer I have been watching Jupiter and Saturn closing in on each other in the night sky. Back in England I had a telescope, good enough to see the Jupiter’s four biggest moons (just like Galileo), as well as the rings of Saturn. Even with the telescope, the planets look tinier than my little fingernail - but it’s like the difference between a photo of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers and seeing the original in London’s National Gallery.
 
So I could see the planets getting closer but I had no idea until a few days ago that they were heading for a Great Conjunction, appearing side-by-side in the night sky. And closer than they’ve been since 1623 when Shakesepeare’s First Folio was being published.
 
Now I’m in Valencia, Spain, without a telescope, but with pretty much guaranteed clear skies every night. Saturn is bearing down on Jupiter, or so it seems on the two-dimensional canvas that’s the night sky. Last night they were half a fingernail’s width apart, and at 19.37 on the 21st December they’ll be indistinguishable with the naked eye. Yet looked at ‘from the side’ they’ll be about 650m kms distant from one another. Then they’ll begin drifting apart and won’t be so close again until 2080. For me this is very much a one-off event.
 
The 21st December is also the Winter Solstice, so some eight hours before the Great Conjunction the earth’s northern hemisphere will begin to tilt back towards the sun and the days will get longer. And the universe turns another notch, insensible to our trials and tribulations.
 
So here are we humans, stuck somewhere between a tiny particle that threatens to undo us in the short term and the motion of the quantic universe leading inexorably to heat death. The cosmos doesn’t much mind what happens to us. But on the other hand we may be the only beings in the universe capable of that thought, so we should take care of ourselves and all that sustains us.

death row and rehabilitation

12/12/2020

 
(376 words; 3-minute read)

As Donald Trump ends his presidency with a round of legalised murders, ex-prisoner Adnan Khan tells of a show of solidarity, empathy and humanity that invites reflection from those of us on the outside who turn our backs on offenders, whatever they may have done.
 
Khan tells how 700 men live in the ‘Condemned Row’ units of San Quentin Prison, California. As they’re escorted round the prison, other inmates are forced to face the wall so as not to look at them. Khan wonders how they feel at this literal turning of backs, confirming the rejection they’ve already experienced from society at large.
 
‘But we would still find a way to attempt to acknowledge their humanity and offer some sort of solidarity when facing the wall’, says Khan. ‘We’d slightly turn our faces, peek, try to make eye contact and give them a nod. Sometimes the nod was just with our eyes. That subtle. And they’d nod back the same way. That was our only contact with them and our only form of communication … And that simple, subtle nod relayed a message of care, empathy and moral support and most importantly, each other’s worthiness of humanity’.
 
Who knows what risks Khan and his fellow inmates ran as they strove to give death row prisoners a moment’s respite from the relentless routine of rejection? Removal of privileges? Reduced chance of parole? Solitary confinement? Whatever, they reckoned it was worth it to return a smidgen of pride and self-worth to those whom a dehumanising system of ‘justice’ has permanently ostracised.
 
So what of those of us on the outside who can make Khan’s gestures of care, empathy and moral support to casualties of the criminal ‘justice’ system at absolutely no risk to ourselves? More particularly what of those of us who deliberately refuse to do so, even when handed the opportunity on a plate? Because it happens …
 
We could try taking a leaf out of Khan’s book, coming down off our high horses and doing a bit more of what we profess to do: care, empathise, and spread some love.

    Andrew Dobson

    Archives

    May 2025
    March 2025
    February 2025
    November 2024
    August 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    January 2024
    September 2023
    January 2023
    November 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    February 2022
    September 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020

    Categories

    All
    Anthropocene
    Censorship
    Covid 19
    Identity Politics
    Justice
    Politics
    Sustainability
    The Cosmos
    Ukraine

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly