My last night in London, I met a smart journalist (not always an oxymoron) for dinner at the “original” Ivy, who explained the disastrous state of conservatism in a country that badly needs it. For openers, Boris Johnson won a landslide victory in 2019 as the champion of Brexit and a hard-ass immigration enforcer. He then proceeded to quadruple migration to the UK. So trust is low for any politician on the right. I already knew that. What I didn’t know is that Johnson is the monster who implemented Britain’s kooky ban on plastic straws. My companion seemed surprised at how aghast I was, and also the fact that I don’t believe in global warming. I pointed out that, as a late sleeper who’s awoken by light, it is impossible to keep the sun out. Three layers – blinds, black-out shades and curtains – can’t do it. Any universe with a sun that powerful is not going to be thrown off-kilter by plastic straws.
When I returned to New York City, the buildings looked drab and uninspiring. I consoled myself that at least we don’t believe in global warming. Not to brag, but far more Americans dispute that “climate change” (whatever) is a threat than the people of any other developed country. About half of Americans say that, if climate change exists, it’s not human-caused. A quarter agree with the statement, “climate change is a hoax invented by elite organizations.” Another 5 percent say global warming doesn’t even exist. Apparently, we’re still a nation of objectors, unimpressed with authority figures such as those constantly hectoring us about climate change. During the absurd and pointless Covid restrictions in the US – also demanded by “experts” – there were hundreds of brawls about pandemic rules, resulting in knifings, shootings and killings. On airplanes, more than 4,000 physical fights broke out over masking. One flight attendant had her teeth knocked out. I don’t approve of public fisticuffs, but I admire the resisters’ spunk.
Across the pond, far from complaining, hundreds of Britons became little Nazi block-watchers, calling the fuzz on their neighbors for violating Covid rules. The infractions involved such crimes as holding any gathering, even outside, with more than six attendees. The only Americans who seemed to really enjoy the lockdowns were reporters. With millions of people trapped in their homes, eyes bleary from Netflix, perhaps the captives might finally break down and follow the news.
Last year, the New York Times carped about Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. firing a slew of the agency’s Covid enforcers. “Public health leaders,” the paper reported, “said the health of all Americans was at stake.” With zero self-awareness, these “public health officials” – words on a par with “psychopathic sex fiends” – fretted about “what might happen should a pandemic or other health crisis arise.” Yes, think of what could happen! The government might shut down the country for two years for no reason whatsoever, destroying businesses, wealth, education and childhoods.
I read a terrifying article about a mountain climber in California, who got stuck on a six-inch ledge at an elevation of 10,600 feet, where he stood, shaking badly, for eight hours before rescue workers were able to reach him. With winds blowing at 50 miles per hour, the rescuers couldn’t use a helicopter to extract him, but had to climb up themselves. That’s after the two hours it took just to find him. And there it was! An example of the horror of nature nearly as bad as the morning sun. Europe may be bristling with cathedrals and castles, but America is up to its eyeballs in the natural world – the Rockies, the Sierra Nevada, the Grand Tetons, Niagara Falls, the geysers, the Grand Canyon, Mount Rainier, redwood forests. You couldn’t get away from nature if you tried. We’re regularly slammed with hurricanes, earthquakes, avalanches, tornados, volcanos, tsunamis and sinkholes And that’s to say nothing of shark, bear and alligator attacks.
When was the last time a hurricane hit Britain? (Never.) How about a tornado? (Ditto.) How many people have died in earthquakes? (None.) How about alligator or shark attacks? (Again, none.) The cosmos is big and scary and the idea that LED lightbulbs are going to dishearten a hurricane is like thinking a grasshopper could subdue the Hulk if he really put his heart into it. True, none of these catastrophic US events has a high annual kill rate. But when nature does attack, it’s the stuff of nightmares. There are dozens of movies about earthquakes, tornadoes and hurricanes, and nearly 100 about sharks. No disaster movie has ever been made about an elderly British couple dying from the heat.
Nature is an assassin. This is something humans have known from caveman days until approximately 1995, when Disney’s Pocahontas had to teach evil white Europeans that, actually, nature is friendly and super safe! Just watch out for that saber-toothed tiger, bubonic-plague-carrying rat or fungus-infected grain oozing gangrene. Living in a country where “nature” isn’t just a pretty English garden, but a hurricane that could wipe out nearly 2,000 people in a matter of days (Hurricane Katrina, 2005), you tend to notice the hegemonic power of the universe, and how impervious it is to human control. [Sidebar: feeling that I’d mostly completed this diary assignment, I clicked over to read the news. Sunday, August 30: “At least 20 hikers missing as flash flood sweeps through Grand Canyon.”]
Finally, I note that the country in western Europe least likely to believe in climate change – pikers compared to the US, of course – is Norway. (After being in a city where rows of tenement apartments look like Fifth Avenue, I’m holding on to America’s dismissal of climate change like a Labrador to his chew toy.) Norwegians have full, continuous daylight, 24/7, from April to late August. I bet they’d understand my point about the sun.
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