Back in the USA!

Reflections on returning home to talk about climate change

I’m thinking about the social cost of carbon

Two weeks ago, Polo and I rode a bus from Guadalajara, Mexico to Los Angeles, California. The journey took forty hours. There were three unannounced delays. We were stopped by military — and cartel — checkpoints a dozen times. We crossed the border at 3 A.M. It was, by a large margin, the most unpleasant trip I’ve ever taken.

And our one-way journey cost slightly more than the round-trip airfare.

I’m thinking about celebrities and car culture

We spent a week in Los Angeles for the Hollywood Climate Summit. We watched famous (Jane Fonda) and semi-famous (Billie Eilish’s mom) climate activists give speeches on voting and veganism to a young and beautiful audience in Beverly Hills. I scanned the crowd and I took in who was missing. I wondered who was speaking to them about solar and wind and what they were saying.

We crossed the city by bus, which took two hours. At one point, a fight broke out when a woman waved pepper spray at her provoker. As the bus driver pulled over to settle the conflict, a steady stream of Teslas and Cadillacs buzzed ahead, jostling for a chance to get stuck in a slightly-different spot in traffic.

I’m thinking about extreme temperatures

We made it to San Francisco this weekend, just as an oppressive heat dome settled over the Central Valley. Temperatures soared past 110 degrees, trapping people indoors. In the (comparative) cool of the Bay Area, I met a retired couple who fled their home in Sacramento out of fear for their safety, and thought about all the Californians who couldn’t do the same.

I’m thinking about the frontlines of Category 5 Hurricanes

Just yesterday, Hurricane Beryl roared through my hometown of Houston, Texas. The damage was minimal compared to what hit Grenada a week ago, where the entire island of Carriacou was flattened by the storm. But my stomach still dropped while waiting for a family update.

Mom: Everybody safe but there’s lots of trees down, one on our fence. We have no power, which is the case with most of the city. Cell phones sporadic, so if you don’t hear from us for a while, don’t worry.

I pick up new puzzle pieces faster than I can place them

I’m back in the USA, but I’m not much closer to solving the climate puzzle. I hope to find more answers here at home.

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The USA is a complicated place.  Here in California, we boast the country’s largest wind farm, which is situated just 90 miles away from the country’s largest urban oilfield. Texas is absolutely kicking butt in the renewable energy buildout, but hush-hushes teaching climate science in schools. I think the thread of this country’s climate story has something to do with its size; our big cars, big CO2 footprints, wide-open spaces pushing us away from each other, succumbing to sprawl. We use fossil fuel power to move further and further away from each other, when the best cure for our loneliness epidemic might be to design cities that promote closeness, not distance.

Yet despite its many contradictions and its fraught news cycle, on balance, I really love this country. I love the smiles and the Southern accents. I love national parks and gas-station coffees and hazy West Coast IPAs, which you can’t find abroad. I love student demonstrators and freedom of the press and American positivity and yes, the hustle-bustle work culture. I love walking in New York. City streets and hearing seven languages. I love how Costco’s aisles can reflect the diversity of a town, how you can buy kimchi and seaweed and tongue-numbing salsa and Goldfish and ramen and sheetcake, all in overwhelming American bulk.

Love for all that and more brought me back for the summer. But it’s more than love — it’s duty.

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Chart of cumulative global CO2 emissions, Our World in Data

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We’re the largest historic emitter — by a landslide. This country — this place that birthed industrialization and automobiles and Silicon Valley and hot-dog eating contests — shoulders the brunt of the blame for historically warming the planet. And although we might not have the highest individual carbon footprints per capita (that honor goes to Qatar), we sit quite comfortably in the Top 10. So at some point along the 25,000+ miles I travelled by land and by sea, I realized that if I wasn’t communicating with Americans — driving change in America — I wasn’t living up to the scale of the challenge ahead.

And I’m deeply sorry, my dear 500 Substack readers, but you’re not the Americans I need to communicate with.

I had a jarring realization at the Hollywood Climate Summit; I’ve heard all these speakers before! I don’t mean to throw shade at the organizers or presenters; the panels were mostly beautiful and uplifting and motivating. But the climate media community is small, and unfortunately, I think it’s pretty guilty of navel-gazing at times (I say this as a navel-gazing member of the climate media community, by the way). In this critical moment for the energy transition, we need to broaden the scope and get more people on board. But how to do it? How to reach people beyond the climate conferences and TikTok trends and the news cycle?

By getting out there and meeting people, in person, without the screens.

In just a few days, Polo and I will start The Green Journey Across America. It’s either the best or worst idea we’ve ever had: ride solar-powered trikes for 2.5 months, crossing 20 states and covering 4,000+ miles. Along the way, our goal is to host 100 events / meetings / presentations / community rides in support of the solar energy transition. We’ll talk to mayors, students, journalists, activists, and skeptics. We’ll sleep mostly in campgrounds and on couches. As we travel, we’ll share a bit about our adventure here — and on social media, of course. But our priority is in-person meetings that drive deeper connection. Our theory is that riding prototype bikes can do more to spark conversation than our personalities can, and so far it seems to be holding true! The bikes aren’t even finished yet, but we brought them down to the Berkeley Marina for a little talk and test ride last night, and more than 30 people came out!

After our presentation at the Berkeley Marina

Now, to be totally honest, I’m pretty nervous for this ride. Polo and I are both super-experienced bikepackers, but we’ve never ridden electric before. Although the trikes will be crazy-visible to drivers once our solar roofs are mounted, I’m still terrified of being hit. I’m definitely not in the best shape of my life right now after mostly bus and boat travel. And because we’re starting on the West Coast, we’re in for a rough first month, traversing Nevada’s deserts and climbing up the Rockies almost immediately.

But all those fears are small in comparison to my fears of climate disaster. So if a cross-country bike ride can lead to:

1. A few more kilowatts of clean power

2. A few more induction stoves in kitchens

3. A few more e-bike commuters

4. A few more hearts and minds from all around the country involved in the beautiful, bountiful project of greening the electricity grid right here at home

Then off we go.

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