Talking to Myself About the Climate Crisis
Lessons from My Doctor about Hope, Troubling News and Talking With One Another
“The heat index reached 152 degrees in the Middle East — nearly at the limit for human survival.” That was the headline I woke up to. The news these days will test one’s mettle, and news about the climate crisis can be especially paralyzing because it carries an aftertaste of the inevitable with it.
If you’re like me, you’ve had just about enough mettle testing for one lifetime. We’re all looking for ways to pass those tests, and after catching my breath this morning, I remembered the advice from a doctor I’d consulted some years before.
The doctor had skillfully guided me through a serious health issue back in 2014. He had a magical personal touch. He listened. He gave me his time. His empathy seemed boundless. So, when he had to give me less-than-welcome news, he knew how to guide me through it to a little hope. Hope is the best medicine.
After Donald Trump’s election victory in 2016, I recognized in the eyes of others the sense of existential dread I’d experienced when ill. My glib political patter did them no good. Hollow punditry wasn’t coming close to touching the pain they felt in their hearts, but at least I was alert enough to recognize the problem.
So, I returned to my doctor and said, “I know you pulled it off with me, so teach me how to help folks get to a place of hope.” He knew exactly what I was asking and why I was asking it, and he kindly gave me a brief course in what he’d been taught in medical school about discussing less-than-good news with patients. I must add that his teaching matched the lessons of a clinical psychologist I’d seen over many years. I just hadn’t put it all together.
My doctor’s professor at Johns Hopkins introduced him to a book called Difficult Conversations in Medicine: Strategies that Work in Breaking Bad News. He referred me to the book and said, “Read it.” He then gave me a brief introduction to the book’s recommendations and the steps of something called the SPIKES protocol.
I’ve studied message framing with George Lakoff in Berkeley. I’ve worked in journalism, public affairs and politics for decades. I thought I knew how to communicate. My doctor’s advice is from a whole other level. And, that advice may be essential to our hopes of addressing the climate crisis and coping with the catastrophic consequences already upon us.
SPIKES is an acronym for the six steps in talking with others on a difficult subject:
S stands for the Setting — in the broadest sense — of the talk. P is for Perception, for understanding up front where your conversation partners are coming from, what their existing thoughts and feelings about the topic are. I is for Invitation, for inviting others to share their views and listen to troubling news. An “invitation” is important, because it recognizes and acknowledges the agency and wishes of others.
K is for Knowledge, for facts, for making sure what you say is true, no bullshit, however disturbing. E is for Empathy, or emotions. Legitimize the emotions the topic raises in others. Their feelings are real. You can’t get away with pats on the head and promises that “everything’s okay.” Finally, S is for forward-looking Strategy. Leave the conversation with direction on what comes next.
I thought it might be good to practice this exercise on myself — to talk to myself about the climate crisis — using the SPIKES protocol. It may help me and maybe you see how we can talk with one another in ways that teach us how to meet that old mettle test.
Since I’m talking with myself, I took Setting to mean take a few breaths, try to be open to unexpected feelings and, with any luck, new insights. This is easier said than done, of course, because that I can always taste the dread on this topic. But, I try to persist.
For Perception, I tried to be honest with myself. My shoulders ache at the thought of the state of the Earth I’m leaving to my daughter and her family. I fret that all the messaging expertise and political activism so far deployed have done little to inhibit the cause of the crisis, the burning of fossil fuel. I’m angry at those who deny what is undeniable. But, there is an optimistic streak in me, and I want to hear about a brighter future. I get how important hope is.
I took Invitation to mean, “Do I want to hear the hard truths, the difficulties we and future generations will face? Do I want an honest prognosis?” The choice is mine. That’s what I mean about recognizing agency. I accept the invitation. I notice, however, a shift of feeling inside me about this. It’s not infrequent that I will turn away from bad climate news because it hurts. But, after going through Setting and a review of my current thoughts and feelings, I’m more open to the hearing the facts.
Knowledge, well, I asked for it, and the hard truths are hard. And hot. Like the morning headline said, there is already a place on the surface of the Earth, a place people live now, where human survival is questionable because of the heat. I see politicians and oil company executives continuing to lie about the cause of that heat, denying the undeniable. I hear we are closing in on the point of no return, a point where the catastrophic cannot be stopped. I gulp my spit, wishing for water, worrying about water, about seas rising, glaciers melting, forests burning to ash.
And then, I look at my Emotions. My stomach’s clenched, my neck and shoulders hurt. But I take the advice and try to look at myself with compassion. Most importantly, and maybe the key to the whole thing, I acknowledge and legitimize the way I’m feeling. Of course I feel that way. I should feel that way. And with that thought the pain eases. My muscles begin to relax.
Something else occurs to me: I’m deeply worried about the fate of the Earth, but I’ve let my fear disconnect me from the very Earth I fear for. I glance outside at the burr oak in the yard bravely withstanding the scorching heat. I think of its roots that persist and never doubt that they’ll find water. I want to sink roots of my own in the Earth and stand with it through the peril.
Now what? the SPIKES protocol tells me its time for strategy, time to think of next steps, and now I’m feeling like there can be next steps. This simple protocol works. I can see that with me my doctor followed it step by step. Trust me, it put me on the path to getting well.
Now I’m looking forward to talking with others about the climate crisis, about hopeful possibilities. How did this change in me happen? I think there’s a simple explanation. We live, feel and think through narratives. Our internal narratives are sticky and hard to escape. They are habitual. This exercise unstuck me. It put me in a different story.
Robert Buckman, author of the book on the SPIKES protocol, said, “The most important feature of bad news is that it lowers the patient’s expectations of the future. In other words, bad news can be defined as any new information that seriously and adversely alters the patient’s expectations of the future.”
Lowering expectations of the future is what tyrants do to pacify and demoralize. The exercise showed me how to avoid tyrannizing myself. It changed my expectations of the future, not that my doubts won’t return. They will. But I’ll keep talking to myself. And to you. Don’t underestimate the power of such person-to-person talk. It’s the source of it all. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll find ourselves in a new story.