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Climate Justice
and Human Rights
Tracey Skillington
Climate Justice and Human Rights
Tracey Skillington
1 Introduction 1
Anthropocene Futures 1
Transformations in the Socio-cognitive Framing
of Climate Change since the 1990s 7
Pollution Practices as Practices of Domination 20
The State as a Moral-Political Agent of Justice
on Climate Change Issues 25
Completing ‘The Democratic Circle’ on Climate Justice 31
Notes 33
Bibliography 35
v
vi CONTENTS
Bibliography 261
Index 283
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
ANTHROPOCENE FUTURES
Over a time span of just a century and a half, humanity has become a for-
midable geological force of change in its own right, altering the Earth’s
atmosphere and natural landscape in ways that are unprecedented. For the
first time, the outer limits of Nature’s capacities to adapt to the destruc-
tion of its natural cycles of carbon, phosphorous, and nitrogen are in sight
(see Rockstrӧm et al. 2009). The overall rate of temperature increase has
nearly doubled (NASA Earth Observatory 2015) in the last 50 years.
Global average surface temperatures have risen to 0.9 degrees Celsius
while in the oceans, warming has occurred from the surface to a depth of
roughly 2300 feet where most marine life dwells (National Geographic
2016), causing sea levels to rise. On land, global net yields of stable food
crops are declining steadily in direct proportion to temperature increases
(see International Scientific Congress on Climate Change, March 2009).
According to the findings of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate
Change (IPCC) AR5 Working Group II Report on Food Security and
Food Production Systems (2014b), there is a critical climatic threshold
beyond which point essential food crops will not grow. If the current
pace in global warming is not decelerated, the likelihood is that climate
change will eventually overpower our capacities to adapt and large-scale
humanitarian disaster will ensue.1 So grave are these dangers that many
scientists believe humanity has entered a new geological age known as
the Anthropocene (Oldfield 2015). The core idea of the Anthropocene
is that the climate risks we face today are essentially our own doing. The
human species in effect has overtaken other forces of nature to become the
most significant driver of destruction of the Earth’s biosphere. Knowledge
of this event forces a compelling reframing of more traditional assump-
tions regarding the relationship between humanity and nature in favour
of a cognitive framework that assigns a determining role to humanity in
shaping the direction of future changes in the biophysical and biological
systems of planet Earth. Humanity is tasked with deciding how the future
of this planet will unfold. Not only must an objectivist account of nature’s
outer limits and a complementary scientific understanding of its biologi-
cal, chemical, and physical substance, be mastered, but humanity now
must also begin to reflexively engage in a hermeneutic reconstruction of
how it has arrived at this point of destruction in its historical development
(Strydom 2015)? As the most significant metanarrative of human develop-
ment in the twenty-first century, the arrival of Anthropocene forces us to
think again about how human interests are best defined and the political
will found to forge a better system of planetary stewardship for the future
(Berkhout 2014: 1).
For Beck (2015), the type of epochal changes that have been ushered
in by the Anthropocene have certain ‘emancipatory effects’. For one, the
anticipation of grave environmental catastrophes fundamentally alters ways
of being in and thinking about this world. Normative horizons of justice
and an ethics of care are extended as new scenes of crisis unfold and affect
communities everywhere. The type of ‘anthropological shock’ generated
by scenes of disaster (e.g., Hurricane Katrina, 2005; Hurricane Sandy,
2012; Typhoon Haiyan, 2013) provokes a deeper reflection on disturb-
ing truths. The international community is forced to face up to the fact
that preventable environmental disasters are inflicting untold harm and
suffering on the poorest, most vulnerable communities. In this moment
of catharsis, the imagination of catastrophe forcibly enters the everyday
consciousness of global communities at risk. No longer vague and futuris-
tic, the existential threat of major disaster provokes sentiments of urgency,
anxiety, and a growing desire for change. The realization is that a reform
of economic, social, political, and legal practices must ensue, even if this
realization is no more than a ‘latent side effect’ of attempts to adjust to a
series of globally interdependent crises (e.g., severe resource depletion and
biodiversity erosion). Norms, imperatives, and cultural ideals of ‘progress’
that have guided the worlds of capitalism for centuries are critically re-
evaluated through the ‘imagination of a threatening future’ (Beck 2015).
INTRODUCTION 3
2008, the CIEL assisted the people of the Maldives in making a submission
to the OHCHR outlining how the collective failures of the international
community to reduce emissions to safe levels has led to extensive human
rights violations.7 Other states, however, took a different view of the situ-
ation. The USA in its submission to the OHCHR explained how it did
‘not share the view that an environment-related human right exists under
international law and indeed the sheer number of different formulations
of this “right” is indicative of the fact that it does not have a basis in inter-
national law…neither the International Covenant on Economic, Social,
and Cultural Rights nor any other universal human rights treaty of which
the United States is aware provides for such rights’ (Observations by the
United States of America on the Relationship between Climate Change
and Human Rights 2009: 3). It, therefore, advised against the interna-
tional community taking a human rights–based approach to climate pro-
tection on the grounds that it is ‘unlikely to be effective’ (Observations by
the United States of America on the Relationship between Climate Change
and Human Rights 2009: 1).8 In the run-up to the Paris Agreement, the
USA again voiced its concerns, expressing particular unease with more
protracted references to human rights and the likelihood of this discourse
‘sabotaging’ a 2015 climate agreement (Duyck 2015). In spite of some
states’ reservations about the alignment of human rights with climate
change issues and their decision not to ratify the Kyoto Protocol (or be
bound legally by its terms), it doubtful as to whether these same states can
opt out of their human rights commitments.
An increasing number of human rights, including rights to self-
determination, the right to life, and development are seen as peremptory
international law (ius cogens) and in that prevail over any climate treaty law
(including that emerging from the UNFCCC process). Article 53 of the
Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties explains how ‘a peremptory
norm of general international law is a norm accepted and recognized by
the international community of states as a whole as a norm from which no
derogation is permitted and which can be modified only by a subsequent
norm of general international law having the same character’.9 In rec-
ognition of the ‘higher authority’ of international human rights law, the
Cancún Agreement, for instance, requires that all climate-related actions
and agreements under the UNFCCC process from heretofore respects
human rights law.10 According to this clarification, any disagreements that
may arise regarding the terms of environmental agreements do not in any
way take from, or undermine the higher authority of human rights law
INTRODUCTION 15
to which all states are aligned constitutionally (and with which they are
legally obliged to comply). However, that is not to say that there can be
no overlap between environmental treaties and human rights legislation.
The principles of the former may be interpreted in accordance with obli-
gations stemming from the latter. This clarification potentially has serious
implications for future climate action, and as human rights continue to
become an ever more prominent element of international climate change
negotiations, it is likely they will prove increasingly important to the pro-
cess of ensuring the legal compliance of all members of the international
community with agreed emissions targets in the future.
Legal actors such as CIEL and Leigh Day point to the significant
potential offered by existing legal mechanisms to form legitimate, human
rights–based claims against major polluters and to practices of uphold-
ing the rights of communities to accountability for harms caused to their
health, well-being, and natural resource supplies. The campaign efforts
of these actors do not stop at a diagnostic critique of corporate or state
pollution practices and their corrupt political and economic dealings.
They also encompass an important reconstructive critique of how peoples’
human rights can be better protected when aligned with institutionally
activated political rights to participation, information, transparency in
decision-making, freedom from interference, and so on. The existing legal
regime and its accompanying standards, procedures, methods, and values
are, therefore, seen to provide certain opportunities for a closer alignment
to be established between democratic rights and human rights. Indeed,
this has been one of the most important societal contributions of these
actors to date—the notion that it is possible for communities to generate
a transformative moment in non-ideal justice arrangements via democratic
legal processes. For these actors, the Anthropocene is a world capable of
reshaping its future through a critical reflexive learning as to the ongoing
legal and social value of human rights and democratic freedoms. It is a
world that, in spite of its destructive tendencies, is capable of regenerating
democratic potentials through legal and political institutional means, if
the collective will to do so is present, a perspective expressed recently by
Vinuta Gopal (2015), Executive Director of Greenpeace India:
The good news is that our judiciary is remaining strong and independent
and continuing to hold out hope for us all (Gopal, Co-Executive Director
of Greenpeace India, 2015).
However, the realization also is that we are only free to engage in a trans-
formative praxis to the extent that we are free members of democratic
societies. As Gopal (2015) further explains, publics must continue ‘to ask
questions, voice opinions, and speak up in defense of those—like us—who
dare to disagree with those in power. People have begun to reclaim the
belief that dissent is vital in a democracy’. For ActionAid (2012c), such
freedoms begin at a rudimentary level and at an early stage within the
micro contexts of everyday social life.
So just as much as we can demand that our rights be fulfilled, we also have
an obligation to make sure that we live up to human rights standards in
our own behavior to others. This calls for tolerance, compromise, gender
equality and empathy—the ability to see the world from other people’s per-
spectives. These values must be reflected in meetings where people have
the confidence to speak out, listen carefully and respond respectfully to one
another; it must be reflected in the way government officers interact with
citizens, in schools where teachers must respect students, in civil society
organisations where leaders must respect their members and in the family
where men and women, young and old, must respect one another. Learning
about democracy and human rights is one thing, but to live out these values
is quite another challenge (ActionAid 2012: 7).
protest have gradually transformed the way publics think more generally
about the causes and consequences of climate change and, in the process,
have helped to resituate the state within a broader framework of culpabil-
ity and democratic accountability.
* * * * *
To Shaemas O’Sheel
Mahwah, N. J.
My dear Shaemas—
Aline and I are heartily glad of the splendid fortune that has come
to you and Blanche. I am sure you will enjoy Washington—it’s a very
lovely city as I remember it—I was there for two days at the age of
four.
With love from Mayor Gaynor, Cale Young Rice, Alfred Noyes,
Madison Cawein, B. Russell Hertz and Harriet Monroe,
I am,
Yours,
Joyce.
* * * * *
* * * * *
To Louis Bevier, Jr.
New York Times.
November 28, 1916.
My dear Louis:
I am sending you by this mail a copy of my book “The Circus and
Other Essays,” which our friend Laurence has just published. I had
intended to dedicate it to your father and yourself, but I suddenly
discovered that I had never dedicated a book to my own father. So I
have dedicated this one to him, and will dedicate to your father and
yourself one of the two books coming out in the Spring—either the
poems or the interviews.
At any time you wish, I will buy you a drink.
Yours sincerely,
Joyce Kilmer.
* * * * *
* * * * *
To Katherine Brégy
The New York Times,
Times Square.
November 6, 1914.
My dear Miss Brégy:
It is delightful to find on my desk this morning your letter telling me
of the honour in store for me. Of course I am reading with enjoyment
the “Opera” in America; how valuable a friend Catholic poetry, that is
poetry, has in you!
A verse-maker, I suppose, is an unskillful critic of his own work. But
in reply to your question, I will say that I am greatly pleased when
people like “Trees,” “Stars” and “Pennies,” when they see that “Folly” is
a religious poem, when they praise the stanza fourth from the end of
“Delicatessen,” and understand stanza three of section four of “The
Fourth Shepherd.”
Before what Miss Guiney calls my “great leap into Liberty” I
published a book of verses called “Summer of Love”; but I do not think
it would interest you; it is, for the most part, a celebration of common
themes. If you have not a copy of “Trees and Other Poems” please tell
me and I will send you one. I will send also “Summer of Love” if you
wish it, for some of the poems in it, those inspired by genuine love, are
not things of which to be ashamed, and you, understanding, would not
be offended by the others.
Your sincerely,
Joyce Kilmer.
* * * * *
* * * * *
To Amelia Josephine Burr
Headquarters Company, 165th Infantry,
A. E. F., France.
My dear Josephine:
That is a magnificent piece of knitting—I am delighted to own it.
Thanks ever so much! And I will thank you ever more for your book of
poetry, which you promise to send me. I enjoyed your recent poems in
the Outlook—you are one of the few American poets who should be
allowed to write war songs. Your letter came up to the specifications of
the order—it was highly entertaining and therefore genuinely
appreciated. I sympathise with you in your trials in addressing camp
audiences, though I don’t know as you deserve any sympathy. I think
you have a pretty good time. And I know the audiences do.
I wouldn’t be surprised to hear of you coming over here as a nurse
or something. Nice country, nice war. I wouldn’t be back in the States
having meatless, wheatless, boozeless, smokeless days for anything. I
am a Sergeant now. I spend my time working at Regimental
Headquarters while we are in reserve, and in training and when we are
in action I am an Observer in the Regimental Intelligence Section—
very amusing work. I had a fine time during the recent activities of our
regiment, activities of which you probably read in the papers. In the
dug-out I wrote a poem I think you’ll like—“Rouge Bouquet” is its
name. I expect to remain a Sergeant (unless I’m reduced), for to get a
commission I’d have to leave the Regiment and go to a training school
for several months and then I would be sent to some regiment other
than this. And I’d rather be a sergeant in the 69th than a lieutenant in
any other outfit.
Give my love to anybody you meet who would appreciate that
commodity. And write often to
Yours,
Joyce.
* * * * *
To Howard W. Cook
Headquarters Company, 165th Infantry,
A. E. F., France.
June 28, 1918.
Dear Mr. Cook:
Your letter of May 31 has just arrived. I am afraid that such
information as I can send you will reach you too late to be of use, but
anyway I’ll do what I can.
You ask first for biographical details. All this material you will find in
Who’s Who in America, except the information that I am the father of
four children, named respectively Kenton Sinclair, Deborah Clanton,
Michael Barry and Christopher.
Second, you ask for comments on myself and something about my
earlier efforts in poetry. That’s harder to answer. How can I make
comments on myself? I’ll pass up that part of the questionnaire, if I
may, but I’m willing to write about my earlier efforts in poetry. They
were utterly worthless, that is, all of them which preceded a poem
called “Pennies” which you will find in my book “Trees and Other
Poems.” I want all my poems written before that to be forgotten—they
were only the exercises of an amateur, imitations, useful only as
technical training. If what I nowadays write is considered poetry, then I
became a poet in November, 1913.
Now, as to your other questions. I’ll take them in order. 1. What has
contemporary poetry already accomplished? Answer—All that poetry
can be expected to do is to give pleasure of a noble sort to its readers,
leading them to the contemplation of that Beauty which neither words
nor sculptures nor pigments can do more than faintly reflect, and to
express the mental and spiritual tendencies of the people of the lands
and times in which it is written. I have very little chance to read
contemporary poetry out here, but I hope it is reflecting the virtues
which are blossoming on the blood-soaked soil of this land—courage,
and self-abnegation, and love, and faith—this last not faith in some
abstract goodness, but faith in God and His Son and the Holy Ghost,
and in the Church which God Himself founded and still rules. France
has turned to her ancient Faith with more passionate devotion than
she has shown for centuries. I believe that America is learning the
same lesson from the war, and is cleansing herself of cynicism and
pessimism and materialism and the lust for novelty which has
hampered our national development. I hope that our poets already see
this tendency and rejoice in it—if they do not they are unworthy of their
craft.
2. What is American poetry’s influence to-day? Answer—This
question I am ill-prepared to answer, but I would venture to surmise
that the extravagances and decadence of the so-called “renascence of
poetry” during the last five years—a renascence distinguished by the
celebration of the queer and the nasty instead of the beautiful—have
made the poet seem as silly a figure to the contemporary American as
he seemed to the Englishman of the eighteen-nineties, when the
“æsthetic movement” was at its foolish height.
3. What of American poetry’s future? Answer—To predict anything
of American poetry’s future requires a knowledge of America’s future,
and I am not a student of political economy. But this much I will tell you
—when we soldiers get back to our homes and have the leisure to
read poetry, we won’t read the works of Amy Lowell and Edgar Lee
Masters. We’ll read poetry, if there is any for us to read, and I hope
there will be. I believe there will.
Sincerely yours,
Joyce Kilmer.
* * * * *
To Thomas Walsh
Headquarters Co., 165th Infantry,
A. E. F., France.
April.
Dear Tom:
Where will you be, I wonder, when this letter reaches you?
Perhaps in the Brooklyn sanctuary (this term is here used in a purely
literary sense) reading reviews of your newest book of verse—pleasant
reading indeed, judging by those I have seen. Perhaps you will be in
your Sabine farm at Lake Hopatkong—if that is the way that strange
word is spelled. Perhaps the postman will give it to you just as you
parade away from your home, and you will take it with you to the
palatial new Columbia University Club, and glance at it over your turtle
soup and sherry and steak and mushrooms and corn and sweet
potatoes and chaveis—but I’m breaking my heart describing this meal
of yours. Soon the mess call will sound and I’ll take my aluminum meat
dish and canteen cup, and wade through the mud to the mess-line.
And I’ll get a plate of stew and some milkless tea or coffee, and I’ll
stand in the mud or sit down in the mud and consume it.
Nevertheless, it’s a nice war and I’m enjoying most of it. Our time
at the front—of which the newspapers have by this time informed you
—was a wonderful experience. I had the privilege of spending a week
as observer in the Regimental Intelligence Section—lively and
interesting work. I’d love to see you at an observation post, Tom, you’d
get as thin as I now am.
Send me your book, will you, Tom? I enjoy poetry more now than
ever before—I suppose it is because I get it so seldom. When I’m
writing verse and reviewing verse and talking about verse and to
verse-makers all the time, I have not the enthusiasm for it I have over
here, where most of the poetry is unwritten and undiscussed.
Nevertheless, it’s a nice country. I’d like to buy you a litre of red
wine—for a franc and a half—with a dash of syrup in it. Also I could
introduce you to the results of the labours of a few accomplished
cooks, some of them soldiers, some of them French women.
Fr. O’Donnell quotes you to the effect that Louis is now in this land,
or on his way hither. I hope to see him. He ought to be sent to an
Officer’s Training School soon—I think that will happen. He is the sort
of fellow who ought to have a commission. I might possibly be allowed
to go to an Officer’s Training School, but I wouldn’t do so, because if I
did so I’d be sent—whether or not I got a commission—to some
Regiment other than this. And I take no pleasure in the thought of
soldiering in a regiment of strangers. I like the crowd in this outfit very
much and would rather be a sergeant—as I am—here than be a
lieutenant in any other Regiment.
If you are ever minded to send me papers, please let them be
Times Book Reviews or other sheets of a decidedly literary flavour.
Occasional copies of The Bookman would be welcome. I like a bit of
concentrated literature now and then.
Remember me, please, to your sisters and brothers and to any of
my other friends whom you may meet. And believe me
Always yours sincerely,
Joyce.
* * * * *
* * * * *