Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Nature's Call
By Lynnette Choo
Drops Divine
Perfect drops of dew
Falls, falls, from Heaven’s tears
A sea of silence
Fields of Gold
Petals of gold – behold
Blazing field of sunflowers
Greet the morning sun
Drops Divine
Perfect drops of dew
Falls, falls, from Heaven’s tears
A sea of silence
Fields of Gold
Petals of gold – behold
Blazing field of sunflowers
Greet the morning sun
Believe
By Karen Cao
You and I have so much to say.
If we each wrote a poem everyday,
It’d take their breath away...
A thousand kilometres is pretty far.
But they tell us, take the buses, trains, boats, and cars.
Yet, why do our loved ones live so far away?
Our friends will laugh and sigh at us.
The problem seems so full of dust.
But they don’t know how we feel
Because they’ve never ever felt this way...
We care about what they put into the atmosphere
Because what’s below it is a gift that we all must share.
Those people in their SUVs,
Their socially constructed kinds of need
The driven lifestyles of profit-ridden greed.
‘You might think the world revolves around you,’
But no, it’s not true...
Don’t give up because of what they say.
The world is not very small today.
The problem may hold a lot of weight,
But be aware of our current state:
You’re not alone.
Believe there are others who share the same dream ...
So, here I promise you
If we can take on Hitler, and the ozone layer too
Then by the time you and I get through with
climate change,
The world will never ever be the same.
We will have the life we always knew we could,
With the dreams, love and hope we share
And it would clear us from blame.
You and I have so much to say.
If we each wrote a poem everyday,
It’d take their breath away...
A thousand kilometres is pretty far.
But they tell us, take the buses, trains, boats, and cars.
Yet, why do our loved ones live so far away?
Our friends will laugh and sigh at us.
The problem seems so full of dust.
But they don’t know how we feel
Because they’ve never ever felt this way...
We care about what they put into the atmosphere
Because what’s below it is a gift that we all must share.
Those people in their SUVs,
Their socially constructed kinds of need
The driven lifestyles of profit-ridden greed.
‘You might think the world revolves around you,’
But no, it’s not true...
Don’t give up because of what they say.
The world is not very small today.
The problem may hold a lot of weight,
But be aware of our current state:
You’re not alone.
Believe there are others who share the same dream ...
So, here I promise you
If we can take on Hitler, and the ozone layer too
Then by the time you and I get through with
climate change,
The world will never ever be the same.
We will have the life we always knew we could,
With the dreams, love and hope we share
And it would clear us from blame.
Unhappy Shopaholics and the Ecological Decline
By Melissa Joseph-Mirani
Neon spandex and fanny packs are fads that many of us wish we could deny any relation to. These fads come and go, but the cost to the environment of these unsustainable shopping practices has definitely come back to haunt us in this time of growing ecological concern.
These days, it is a rare event to find any one of the local Toronto malls completely devoid of customers. These business centres are often bustling with shoppers who are delighted to spend their hard-earned cash on a large assortment of goods and services.
Interestingly, the Canadian Office of Consumer Affairs reports that in comparison to 1980 levels; compared in constant dollars, Canadians today are spending more on goods, accumulating more debt as a result of their unchecked spending habits, and generally saving less money than in the past.
Despite the costs, shopping has become a recreational pastime for many Canadians in our contemporary society. This trend has a large positive impact on a booming economy in Canada. Unfortunately, externalities such as human health, happiness, and quality of life, as well as the environmental damage caused by producing goods, are not factored into these detected economic trends.
Recently, environmental issues have topped the list of public concern in Canada. Interestingly, many experts indicate that consumerism is contributing to climate change, the depletion of global freshwater reserves, and the exacerbation of our landfill crisis.
So why do we continue to shop so much? Of course we all need a certain number of goods to live well. But after this basic level of necessity (and a couple of "one-time purchase lasts a lifetime" hobby items) has been met, the rest is just icing on the cake.
Now, I don’t know about you, but if I was really hungry I might think:
"Icing on the cake. Mmmmm. Delicious. I’d like one serving, please.
Oh, it’s chocolate flavoured? I’ll take two!
Buy 3, get the 4th free? Done!"
Sure, icing tastes great and no one will argue how joyous those seconds of slurping it up can be. But what happens later on? If you continue to devour icing like a wild monkey you might end up in a very poor state of health. Yes, poor—as in years of paying off debt to credit card companies. Poor, as in lots of environmental devastation to pay for through taxes and health. Poor, as in our poor kids who will be born in 10-20 years into a garbage heap of a world.
When the initial happiness of a new purchase wears off, all we’re stuck with is the bill. Fast-forward a few more months and those goods are in the trash; on their way to a landfill. Does this junk really bring us our money’s worth of happiness?
Positive psychologists have indicated that shopping for things we don’t need really does not make us happier. On the contrary, the struggle to be debt-free after years of buying unnecessary junk causes much stress and unhappiness. According to these experts, spending leisure time with loved ones, pursuing hobbies, and giving back to the community are key paths to happiness.
Where does that leave us students? The student life is a time when many of us take no joy in adhering to a strict spending diet.
Here’s a shift in perspective:
Student life is a great time to come to terms with cutting back on extraneous spending—and being okay with it. It is a great time to mature and realize that you don’t need all the toys to have fun, just a few great toys that will last. Plus, those of us with small budgets can be proud that at least for the time being, we are not contributing to senseless consumerism and ecological devastation. By cutting out unnecessary purchases, you are working on habits that lead to long term financial success, and you have taken a step towards being a special kind of person that this world desperately needs more of—an environmentalist.
Now, instead of waiting in lines at the mall, you can spend your time playing that guitar, honing your cartooning skills, or playing soccer in the park with friends.
Neon spandex and fanny packs are fads that many of us wish we could deny any relation to. These fads come and go, but the cost to the environment of these unsustainable shopping practices has definitely come back to haunt us in this time of growing ecological concern.
These days, it is a rare event to find any one of the local Toronto malls completely devoid of customers. These business centres are often bustling with shoppers who are delighted to spend their hard-earned cash on a large assortment of goods and services.
Interestingly, the Canadian Office of Consumer Affairs reports that in comparison to 1980 levels; compared in constant dollars, Canadians today are spending more on goods, accumulating more debt as a result of their unchecked spending habits, and generally saving less money than in the past.
Despite the costs, shopping has become a recreational pastime for many Canadians in our contemporary society. This trend has a large positive impact on a booming economy in Canada. Unfortunately, externalities such as human health, happiness, and quality of life, as well as the environmental damage caused by producing goods, are not factored into these detected economic trends.
Recently, environmental issues have topped the list of public concern in Canada. Interestingly, many experts indicate that consumerism is contributing to climate change, the depletion of global freshwater reserves, and the exacerbation of our landfill crisis.
So why do we continue to shop so much? Of course we all need a certain number of goods to live well. But after this basic level of necessity (and a couple of "one-time purchase lasts a lifetime" hobby items) has been met, the rest is just icing on the cake.
Now, I don’t know about you, but if I was really hungry I might think:
"Icing on the cake. Mmmmm. Delicious. I’d like one serving, please.
Oh, it’s chocolate flavoured? I’ll take two!
Buy 3, get the 4th free? Done!"
Sure, icing tastes great and no one will argue how joyous those seconds of slurping it up can be. But what happens later on? If you continue to devour icing like a wild monkey you might end up in a very poor state of health. Yes, poor—as in years of paying off debt to credit card companies. Poor, as in lots of environmental devastation to pay for through taxes and health. Poor, as in our poor kids who will be born in 10-20 years into a garbage heap of a world.
When the initial happiness of a new purchase wears off, all we’re stuck with is the bill. Fast-forward a few more months and those goods are in the trash; on their way to a landfill. Does this junk really bring us our money’s worth of happiness?
Positive psychologists have indicated that shopping for things we don’t need really does not make us happier. On the contrary, the struggle to be debt-free after years of buying unnecessary junk causes much stress and unhappiness. According to these experts, spending leisure time with loved ones, pursuing hobbies, and giving back to the community are key paths to happiness.
Where does that leave us students? The student life is a time when many of us take no joy in adhering to a strict spending diet.
Here’s a shift in perspective:
Student life is a great time to come to terms with cutting back on extraneous spending—and being okay with it. It is a great time to mature and realize that you don’t need all the toys to have fun, just a few great toys that will last. Plus, those of us with small budgets can be proud that at least for the time being, we are not contributing to senseless consumerism and ecological devastation. By cutting out unnecessary purchases, you are working on habits that lead to long term financial success, and you have taken a step towards being a special kind of person that this world desperately needs more of—an environmentalist.
Now, instead of waiting in lines at the mall, you can spend your time playing that guitar, honing your cartooning skills, or playing soccer in the park with friends.
Self-Reflection in Kenya
By Jasmeet Sidhu
When I first signed up for an international development trip to Kenya through Trinity College’s Students for International Development program, I did not know what I had gotten myself into. Besides the fact that I had agreed to the trip before informing my parents, it was a bumpy couple of months leading to departure as our group scrambled to gather funds and put last-minute preparations in place for our projects. But little did I know that the rough ride had hardly begun.
Fresh off my last exam (Chemistry, ugh), I packed my suitcase with the help of Mom—who clearly thought I was going to perish in the wild—with copious amounts of bug repellant, sun protection, and malaria pills. I naively ventured off on what I believed would be the stereotypical "life-changing" experience that all international development trips seemed to offer.
I suffered from "Africanization," what I refer to as the symptom of being exposed to too many stereotypes of Africa that unfortunately alter certain aspects of reality when you reach the continent. A confusing description, but perhaps only those who have ever experienced it would know exactly how I felt desperately searching for "acacias" or those Lion King-esque trees. I also found myself looking at children through a "help this child, call World Vision" lens, eating "oogali" and "sikuma," and proudly patting myself on the back for engaging in the full "African" experience. I confidently thought of the amazing stories I would tell family and friends upon my return, and that my time here would be the "best of my life" and a "life-changing" one for sure.
Things didn’t turn out quite as I expected. Perhaps before I venture further into my self-reflection, I should let curious readers know exactly what activities my fellow team members and I were engaged in out in the small, sleepy, sequestered village in Kenya that became my home.
Unlike other structured international development programs, we were lucky enough to be able to direct and design our own projects, as well as allocate funds that we fundraised for our own purposes. While others engaged in water-drilling projects, organized Health Days to treat ringworm and scabies, or designed enrichment courses to be taught in schools, I naturally chose something related to the environment.
My project was to educate the farmers about indigenous trees and sell saplings of such trees as sesbania and grevillea robustus. While this sounds like a simple mandate, I admit that I was helplessly lost. If it weren’t for the gracious help of Dave LeRoux, a Swiss citizen who lived in Kenya and ran similar agroforestry programs in the region, I don’t know how effective I would have been. Perhaps that was an early sign of the helplessness and the self-doubt that I would soon feel.
We were put to work right away, having meetings with the chief and reaching out to local residents to progress our projects. The "reforestation" project began to expand. I was suddenly supervising workers transforming a farm into an ideal sustainable farm, taking mattatu (taxi) rides with other residents to several other villages to view farms. and I felt hopelessly out of place at the seminar I held with my knowledgeable partner Dave LeRoux. We both had an endless passion for reforestation and listed the benefits of indigenous trees and the best ways to plant eucalyptus.
It was perhaps at one of these seminars where my great realization set in. What was I doing here? Who was I, hardly an expert myself on the subject, to be telling farmers who have toiled blood and sweat on their land for generations how to best take care of their farms? Had I traveled thousands of miles, exuding a million tonnes of carbon dioxide on a Boeing 747, dropping a couple thousand dollars on airfare and necessities to simply get a self-rewarding experience and some photos, or was I doing anything of actual significance?
Guilt and self-doubt mixed in with the feelings of physical uneasiness that hot temperatures and diarrhea brought. This was not quite the great epiphany that I was expecting when I traveled to Kenya and experienced a different perspective on life. I suddenly felt like an invader in this peaceful village. I questioned my reasons for coming and feared what I would do upon my return to Canada. Would I swear to all my friends that this was the great experience of my life, like they all expected me to say?
It’s been several weeks since I settled back into my normal routine in Canada. I’ve had a lot of time to think about my days in Kenya and what it meant in the grand scheme of things. Although I have mostly presented a torn emotional view of my time in Kenya, I feel it is necessary to mention some of the good feelings I had there. In fact, there were quite a few: seeing an unobstructed sky at night filled with thousands of stars, being warmly embraced by mothers and children, and singing in church with a congregation so feverishly devoted to their adopted religion.
But I now realize my personal truth about the trip and international development trips in general. Perhaps we could do more to help the world without leaving the country. Is it necessary to venture halfway across the world and leave a huge ecological footprint when work could be done here? I know for myself that this is true, as I’m now helping to fundraise for the "Jambo Tree Group," a coalition of farmers aiming to prevent deforestation and link an HIV/AIDS home care group with a similar organization in Canada.
In the future, there will be many others like me who will venture to Africa believing that touching an African child’s hand will solidify their desire to do something significant in their lifetime. But at least for me, I know I’ll get a greater satisfaction staying closer to home, and finding ways to make my mark here.
When I first signed up for an international development trip to Kenya through Trinity College’s Students for International Development program, I did not know what I had gotten myself into. Besides the fact that I had agreed to the trip before informing my parents, it was a bumpy couple of months leading to departure as our group scrambled to gather funds and put last-minute preparations in place for our projects. But little did I know that the rough ride had hardly begun.
Fresh off my last exam (Chemistry, ugh), I packed my suitcase with the help of Mom—who clearly thought I was going to perish in the wild—with copious amounts of bug repellant, sun protection, and malaria pills. I naively ventured off on what I believed would be the stereotypical "life-changing" experience that all international development trips seemed to offer.
I suffered from "Africanization," what I refer to as the symptom of being exposed to too many stereotypes of Africa that unfortunately alter certain aspects of reality when you reach the continent. A confusing description, but perhaps only those who have ever experienced it would know exactly how I felt desperately searching for "acacias" or those Lion King-esque trees. I also found myself looking at children through a "help this child, call World Vision" lens, eating "oogali" and "sikuma," and proudly patting myself on the back for engaging in the full "African" experience. I confidently thought of the amazing stories I would tell family and friends upon my return, and that my time here would be the "best of my life" and a "life-changing" one for sure.
Things didn’t turn out quite as I expected. Perhaps before I venture further into my self-reflection, I should let curious readers know exactly what activities my fellow team members and I were engaged in out in the small, sleepy, sequestered village in Kenya that became my home.
Unlike other structured international development programs, we were lucky enough to be able to direct and design our own projects, as well as allocate funds that we fundraised for our own purposes. While others engaged in water-drilling projects, organized Health Days to treat ringworm and scabies, or designed enrichment courses to be taught in schools, I naturally chose something related to the environment.
My project was to educate the farmers about indigenous trees and sell saplings of such trees as sesbania and grevillea robustus. While this sounds like a simple mandate, I admit that I was helplessly lost. If it weren’t for the gracious help of Dave LeRoux, a Swiss citizen who lived in Kenya and ran similar agroforestry programs in the region, I don’t know how effective I would have been. Perhaps that was an early sign of the helplessness and the self-doubt that I would soon feel.
We were put to work right away, having meetings with the chief and reaching out to local residents to progress our projects. The "reforestation" project began to expand. I was suddenly supervising workers transforming a farm into an ideal sustainable farm, taking mattatu (taxi) rides with other residents to several other villages to view farms. and I felt hopelessly out of place at the seminar I held with my knowledgeable partner Dave LeRoux. We both had an endless passion for reforestation and listed the benefits of indigenous trees and the best ways to plant eucalyptus.
It was perhaps at one of these seminars where my great realization set in. What was I doing here? Who was I, hardly an expert myself on the subject, to be telling farmers who have toiled blood and sweat on their land for generations how to best take care of their farms? Had I traveled thousands of miles, exuding a million tonnes of carbon dioxide on a Boeing 747, dropping a couple thousand dollars on airfare and necessities to simply get a self-rewarding experience and some photos, or was I doing anything of actual significance?
Guilt and self-doubt mixed in with the feelings of physical uneasiness that hot temperatures and diarrhea brought. This was not quite the great epiphany that I was expecting when I traveled to Kenya and experienced a different perspective on life. I suddenly felt like an invader in this peaceful village. I questioned my reasons for coming and feared what I would do upon my return to Canada. Would I swear to all my friends that this was the great experience of my life, like they all expected me to say?
It’s been several weeks since I settled back into my normal routine in Canada. I’ve had a lot of time to think about my days in Kenya and what it meant in the grand scheme of things. Although I have mostly presented a torn emotional view of my time in Kenya, I feel it is necessary to mention some of the good feelings I had there. In fact, there were quite a few: seeing an unobstructed sky at night filled with thousands of stars, being warmly embraced by mothers and children, and singing in church with a congregation so feverishly devoted to their adopted religion.
But I now realize my personal truth about the trip and international development trips in general. Perhaps we could do more to help the world without leaving the country. Is it necessary to venture halfway across the world and leave a huge ecological footprint when work could be done here? I know for myself that this is true, as I’m now helping to fundraise for the "Jambo Tree Group," a coalition of farmers aiming to prevent deforestation and link an HIV/AIDS home care group with a similar organization in Canada.
In the future, there will be many others like me who will venture to Africa believing that touching an African child’s hand will solidify their desire to do something significant in their lifetime. But at least for me, I know I’ll get a greater satisfaction staying closer to home, and finding ways to make my mark here.
Generation Market-Liberalism
By Beth Jean Evans
Over the past few years, there has been increasing media, political and public attention paid to the emission of greenhouse gases and their effect on the earth’s climate. Former US Vice President Al Gore’s documentary, "An Inconvenient Truth"—which laid bare the facts about global warming—quickly became one of the highest grossing documentaries in history, spurring public outcry and begging legislative reform. The typical political responses ensued: lofty promises and grandiose claims poised to ride the wave of public outrage, destined to rejoin the flat sea of political meaninglessness.
Given the near-unanimous scientific consensus on the significant role of anthropogenic emissions in climate change and the unprecedented levels of public concern being expressed by voters, why is little substantive progress being made to reduce green house gas emissions? Why is it that the international community remains seemingly unable to develop a climate change abatement agreement that countries are able and willing to comply with?
The 1995 Kyoto Protocol—the international community’s best effort at an all-encompassing emissions abatement regime—has had limited success, with some of the largest greenhouse gas emitting nations professing either de facto or de jure non-participation. The Clean Development Mechanism (CDM), laid out in Article 12 of the Kyoto Protocol, was hailed at its inception as the ‘key that unlocks the barrier’ (Repetto, Robert. "The Clean Development Mechanism: Institutional breakthrough of institutional nightmare?") to the ratification of Kyoto for its purported ability to end selfish squabbling between developed and developing nations. The CDM recognizes that in pursuit of a solution to climate change, the developed nations do not want to lose their economic competitiveness while developing nations refuse to sacrifice rapid development for the sake of environmental sustainability. Essentially, the CDM allows developed nations to fund ‘clean development’ projects in developing nations in lieu of reducing emissions at home. All emissions reductions achieved as a result of the projects are counted towards the investing nation’s own Kyoto requirements. In theory, developed nations get to take advantage of inexpensive abatement options in the developing world and in return, the developing world reaps the benefits of investment in its infrastructure. However, this has failed to achieve either the emission reductions or the developing world participation intended. The inadequacy of Kyoto and the CDM—which only the staunchest optimist will refute—is not a result of poor implementation or unrealistic timeframes, but rather is a result of an inherently and unavoidably flawed theoretical basis: market-liberalism.
In his article The Fate of Sustinable Development Under Neo-liberal Regimes in Developing Countries, Haque Shamsul argues that it is the vested interests of the dominant individuals, classes, and global institutions that facilitate the widespread adoption of market-liberal values, and not economic, social, or environmental rationality. In March 2007, Sir Nicholas Stern, the former chief economist of the World Bank, stated that climate change was, "the greatest and widest-ranging market failure ever seen" (Secretary General’s Address to the UNFCCC). If climate change is not naturally mitigated by the ‘invisible hand’ of market-liberalism, does it make sense to base a global warming abatement regime upon a conceptual model already proven to be an ineffective means of addressing the issue?
The CDM glaringly demonstrates the inadequacy of this approach. The desire for profit-maximization on the behalf of the investor nations propels project biases towards large-scale industrial gas reductions, which have few or none of the sustainable development benefits promised to the host nation. With no incentive to accept project investment, developing nations—especially those anticipating emissions caps in the next Kyoto commitment period—are becoming increasingly resistant to selling off their cheap abatement options to the gluttonous emission-moguls of the developed world.
The failures of Kyoto and the CDM are conspicuous manifestations of a broader trend in which market-liberalism is pitted against environmental sustainability in what seems increasingly to be a mutually exclusive relationship. The institutionalization and wide-spread acceptance of market-liberal economics, in which profit maximization is the fundamental aspiration, has historically been responsible for the destruction of the environment which regimes such as the CDM now purport to mitigate. This, when supported by evidence of repeated failures of such market-based endeavours, should indicate that if substantial results are to be achieved, the root of the problem, market-liberalism, cannot be used as the basis for the solution.
Over the past few years, there has been increasing media, political and public attention paid to the emission of greenhouse gases and their effect on the earth’s climate. Former US Vice President Al Gore’s documentary, "An Inconvenient Truth"—which laid bare the facts about global warming—quickly became one of the highest grossing documentaries in history, spurring public outcry and begging legislative reform. The typical political responses ensued: lofty promises and grandiose claims poised to ride the wave of public outrage, destined to rejoin the flat sea of political meaninglessness.
Given the near-unanimous scientific consensus on the significant role of anthropogenic emissions in climate change and the unprecedented levels of public concern being expressed by voters, why is little substantive progress being made to reduce green house gas emissions? Why is it that the international community remains seemingly unable to develop a climate change abatement agreement that countries are able and willing to comply with?
The 1995 Kyoto Protocol—the international community’s best effort at an all-encompassing emissions abatement regime—has had limited success, with some of the largest greenhouse gas emitting nations professing either de facto or de jure non-participation. The Clean Development Mechanism (CDM), laid out in Article 12 of the Kyoto Protocol, was hailed at its inception as the ‘key that unlocks the barrier’ (Repetto, Robert. "The Clean Development Mechanism: Institutional breakthrough of institutional nightmare?") to the ratification of Kyoto for its purported ability to end selfish squabbling between developed and developing nations. The CDM recognizes that in pursuit of a solution to climate change, the developed nations do not want to lose their economic competitiveness while developing nations refuse to sacrifice rapid development for the sake of environmental sustainability. Essentially, the CDM allows developed nations to fund ‘clean development’ projects in developing nations in lieu of reducing emissions at home. All emissions reductions achieved as a result of the projects are counted towards the investing nation’s own Kyoto requirements. In theory, developed nations get to take advantage of inexpensive abatement options in the developing world and in return, the developing world reaps the benefits of investment in its infrastructure. However, this has failed to achieve either the emission reductions or the developing world participation intended. The inadequacy of Kyoto and the CDM—which only the staunchest optimist will refute—is not a result of poor implementation or unrealistic timeframes, but rather is a result of an inherently and unavoidably flawed theoretical basis: market-liberalism.
In his article The Fate of Sustinable Development Under Neo-liberal Regimes in Developing Countries, Haque Shamsul argues that it is the vested interests of the dominant individuals, classes, and global institutions that facilitate the widespread adoption of market-liberal values, and not economic, social, or environmental rationality. In March 2007, Sir Nicholas Stern, the former chief economist of the World Bank, stated that climate change was, "the greatest and widest-ranging market failure ever seen" (Secretary General’s Address to the UNFCCC). If climate change is not naturally mitigated by the ‘invisible hand’ of market-liberalism, does it make sense to base a global warming abatement regime upon a conceptual model already proven to be an ineffective means of addressing the issue?
The CDM glaringly demonstrates the inadequacy of this approach. The desire for profit-maximization on the behalf of the investor nations propels project biases towards large-scale industrial gas reductions, which have few or none of the sustainable development benefits promised to the host nation. With no incentive to accept project investment, developing nations—especially those anticipating emissions caps in the next Kyoto commitment period—are becoming increasingly resistant to selling off their cheap abatement options to the gluttonous emission-moguls of the developed world.
The failures of Kyoto and the CDM are conspicuous manifestations of a broader trend in which market-liberalism is pitted against environmental sustainability in what seems increasingly to be a mutually exclusive relationship. The institutionalization and wide-spread acceptance of market-liberal economics, in which profit maximization is the fundamental aspiration, has historically been responsible for the destruction of the environment which regimes such as the CDM now purport to mitigate. This, when supported by evidence of repeated failures of such market-based endeavours, should indicate that if substantial results are to be achieved, the root of the problem, market-liberalism, cannot be used as the basis for the solution.
Life and Art. The Environment and Tree-Logging? Robert Bateman Speaks for the Faculty of Forestry's 100-Year Anniversary
By Isa Cunanan
Canadian wildlife artist and environmentalist Robert Bateman is in favour of loggers, logging, and logging communities. He just hates the industry.
"It is my fervent hope for foresters, not accountants, to run forests," said the environmental figure in a public lecture at the University of Toronto’s Isabel Bader Theatre. Bateman associates industrial logging with the industrialization of farming and fishery—practices that he believes make up the three greatest dangers to the environment. A veteran member of several green organizations and last June’s $3 million-dollar contributor to Amnesty International, Toronto-born Bateman was an activist years before selling-out his first wildlife exhibit in 1975.
Bateman visited the Theatre on September 4th as a guest speaker at the Faculty of Forestry’s 100th anniversary, which aimed to focus celebrations on understanding forests beyond their commercial potential. The final speaker of a two-part lecture series that also featured Canadian author and environmentalist Margaret Atwood, Bateman has benefited conservation communities over the decades by communicating wildlife and ecological crisis through art—and donating some of his lucrative works. Today, the iconic 77-year-old continues his craft close to home in his British Columbia studio. His original paintings largely reside in western art museums and organized exhibitions, but with prints ordered by the thousands online, Bateman’s artwork has crossed constraints of institution and privilege to also become a popular fixture in households.
Bateman’s realistic paintings may have earned mass-admiration for their photographic quality, but the artist places this style in context of earlier ventures with impressionism and cubism to remind supporters that realism is just a fragment of his message.
"It’s like saying, ‘I like your sweater, it has a lot of stitches in it’," quipped the painter. In the past, Bateman has formally stated that his work holds "no real trend stylistically," claiming that "there is no other style that suits wildlife painting other than realism."
With active organizational involvement to complement a growing roster of accessible, ecological artwork, his dual-career as a conservationist shows promise.
Bateman’s early-nineties "Driftnet" painting gripped Isabel Bader Theatre in quiet observation, with a blue-hued overhead slide depicting an albatross and dolphin snared on a canvass webbed with genuine netting. The display cried foul to the drifting "walls of death" that were commonplace to commercial Pacific-fishing in the 1980’s—at their peak, driftnets snared accidental "bycatch" that totalled twenty percent of intended commercial catch. This method of non-discriminatory netting has since been abandoned by the majority of its users, but in an industry as large as fishery, even minimal use is cause for concern. Through his work, Bateman communicates exactly what he revealed to the students and professionals in Isabel Bader Theatre: "I hope to draw attention to what Canadians are losing."
Although Bateman speaks strongly for his causes, the environmentalist maintains he has come across zero political resistance, joking that "no one takes artists seriously." When encouraged to elaborate on the extent of his interest in politics, Bateman promptly tossed the idea of pursuing a future as a political figure, saying simply: "I’d hate it. I’d rather snipe."
Bateman did explain his nightmare of the future, where he predicts "a world that views nature, science, and family values as data on the screens." Pausing to settle on one portrait in his slideshow presentation—a stark painting of a sitting-ostrich with her neck stretched tall—Bateman reminded the audience of the myth that the birds bury their heads within the ground when danger arrives, and the reality that this response is most reminiscent of our own character.
"This is the greatest threat to the environment," stated Bateman. "When danger comes, we don’t want to hear about it."
Bateman has published three books that he describes as stories of life and art, ranging from pages of political discourse to wildlife picture books for children.
In appreciation of his eco-sensitive views, the Faculty of Forestry presented Robert Bateman with a gift at the end of the night: a tree, to be planted in his honour on the St. George campus.
"Oh, good," responded the naturalist.
"What species?"
Canadian wildlife artist and environmentalist Robert Bateman is in favour of loggers, logging, and logging communities. He just hates the industry.
"It is my fervent hope for foresters, not accountants, to run forests," said the environmental figure in a public lecture at the University of Toronto’s Isabel Bader Theatre. Bateman associates industrial logging with the industrialization of farming and fishery—practices that he believes make up the three greatest dangers to the environment. A veteran member of several green organizations and last June’s $3 million-dollar contributor to Amnesty International, Toronto-born Bateman was an activist years before selling-out his first wildlife exhibit in 1975.
Bateman visited the Theatre on September 4th as a guest speaker at the Faculty of Forestry’s 100th anniversary, which aimed to focus celebrations on understanding forests beyond their commercial potential. The final speaker of a two-part lecture series that also featured Canadian author and environmentalist Margaret Atwood, Bateman has benefited conservation communities over the decades by communicating wildlife and ecological crisis through art—and donating some of his lucrative works. Today, the iconic 77-year-old continues his craft close to home in his British Columbia studio. His original paintings largely reside in western art museums and organized exhibitions, but with prints ordered by the thousands online, Bateman’s artwork has crossed constraints of institution and privilege to also become a popular fixture in households.
Bateman’s realistic paintings may have earned mass-admiration for their photographic quality, but the artist places this style in context of earlier ventures with impressionism and cubism to remind supporters that realism is just a fragment of his message.
"It’s like saying, ‘I like your sweater, it has a lot of stitches in it’," quipped the painter. In the past, Bateman has formally stated that his work holds "no real trend stylistically," claiming that "there is no other style that suits wildlife painting other than realism."
With active organizational involvement to complement a growing roster of accessible, ecological artwork, his dual-career as a conservationist shows promise.
Bateman’s early-nineties "Driftnet" painting gripped Isabel Bader Theatre in quiet observation, with a blue-hued overhead slide depicting an albatross and dolphin snared on a canvass webbed with genuine netting. The display cried foul to the drifting "walls of death" that were commonplace to commercial Pacific-fishing in the 1980’s—at their peak, driftnets snared accidental "bycatch" that totalled twenty percent of intended commercial catch. This method of non-discriminatory netting has since been abandoned by the majority of its users, but in an industry as large as fishery, even minimal use is cause for concern. Through his work, Bateman communicates exactly what he revealed to the students and professionals in Isabel Bader Theatre: "I hope to draw attention to what Canadians are losing."
Although Bateman speaks strongly for his causes, the environmentalist maintains he has come across zero political resistance, joking that "no one takes artists seriously." When encouraged to elaborate on the extent of his interest in politics, Bateman promptly tossed the idea of pursuing a future as a political figure, saying simply: "I’d hate it. I’d rather snipe."
Bateman did explain his nightmare of the future, where he predicts "a world that views nature, science, and family values as data on the screens." Pausing to settle on one portrait in his slideshow presentation—a stark painting of a sitting-ostrich with her neck stretched tall—Bateman reminded the audience of the myth that the birds bury their heads within the ground when danger arrives, and the reality that this response is most reminiscent of our own character.
"This is the greatest threat to the environment," stated Bateman. "When danger comes, we don’t want to hear about it."
Bateman has published three books that he describes as stories of life and art, ranging from pages of political discourse to wildlife picture books for children.
In appreciation of his eco-sensitive views, the Faculty of Forestry presented Robert Bateman with a gift at the end of the night: a tree, to be planted in his honour on the St. George campus.
"Oh, good," responded the naturalist.
"What species?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)