We were renovating a room in our house recently which brought us to the paint store. I was looking for a very light green paint and narrowed my choices to my two favourites. As I was leaving, I grabbed the sample card for each one to check out the colours at home. As I glanced at the colour names on both cards I noticed that one was called “climate change”. I actually stopped right in my tracks in the store and stared at it for a few seconds. I thought to myself: how did we get here?
When I started working in climate change in 1997, people thought I worked in thermostats. That’s how unknown the term was. Some people had heard of global warming, but climate change just wasn’t in most people’s everyday vocabulary. When I got married in 2002, we purchased carbon offset credits to offset the greenhouse gas emissions from all travel, including that of our guests. Few of them knew what the heck we were talking about and while some found it intriguing, I’m sure others were thinking “I would have preferred a traditional wedding favour” (bonbonniere).
The big question is: how did we reach a point where climate change is so commonplace, so pervasive in our language, that we’re naming paint colours after it, yet, our emissions have gone up almost 50%. As someone who has followed this issue for a long time, it seems to me that we may have skipped a crucial step in the middle.
But if I stop and think about it, that mainstream awareness does represent a change. Greta Thunberg rose to prominence as an activist because climate change is now mainstream. She is the voice of something that so many others care about. She started by sitting alone in front of the Swedish parliament in 2018 and quickly catalyzed a global movement.
Within a year of her solitary protests as a 15- year girl, climate strikes and protests (FridayforFuture) were taking place worldwide. It is estimated that 14 million people have participated globally over the past six years. This level of mobilization would simply not have happened in 1997 when climate change was still a vague and obscure concept. We see evidence of that resonance and momentum in virtually all aspects of society.
And if you’re wondering what colour climate change is, this is what it looks like. That warm, meadowy spring breeze hue is supposed to symbolize climate change.
Personally, my sense of humour would have inclined me to name it something apocalyptically dark and ominous, like black. But I suppose that’s why I’m not employed in the paint-naming business. I doubt many would choose “Floodwater Grey” or “Famine Beige” for their walls. But I digress. Instead, I’ll retreat to my meadowy room and reflect on how fortunate I am to know and collaborate with hundreds of incredible, intelligent, and talented individuals who are committed to changing and improving the landscape on energy, financing, investments, products, policies, systems, and leadership. I am truly grateful.
Maybe I should start a paint brand with names like social justice, global peace, and inclusive systems. Drop me a note with your suggestions! I love hearing from you.
