Not next door to my backyard
In 2009, the residents of Oakville, Ontario – a town just outside Toronto – organized to protest the proposed construction of a natural gas-fired electricity generating station. The plant was to have replaced a nearby decommissioned coal-fired power plant. The new plant would be adjacent to the community. Oakville residents opposing the construction argued that the new plant would degrade local air quality. The Globe and Mail newspaper, in a November 2009 report, noted that,
(t)hey have been protesting for the better part of a year, at times in predictably suburban fashion: In April, they held a drive-through petition-signing event, where almost 1,000 drivers made their stand for clean air while seated in idling cars.
There is a phenomenon in economics called revealed preference. It refers to consumers’ evident behaviour when faced with options. The appearance of revealed preference is striking when behaviour is inconsistent with professed preferences. Oakville residents displayed a version of it by resisting the project because of threats to air quality but revealed a tolerance for automobile exhaust fumes in pursuit of their objective.
To each according to his need?
It would be harsh to call that hypocritical. Our consideration of the environmental impacts of our choices must confront the fact that the impacts are often obscure and complex
This brings to mind another economics term, the tragedy of the commons. It refers to what happens when there is unrestricted access to a common resource (such as a clean environment). Governments usually try to avoid the uncontrolled depletion of the resource with regulations. Nevertheless, individuals are tempted to violate rules in which they ostensibly believe. Often, they rationalize a small transgression as inconsequential. The cumulative effect of many people acting this way, however, undermines that reasoning.
Let it rain down (only) on me
Every summer our municipal government imposes water restrictions for lawns and gardens to ensure there is an adequate supply throughout the hottest months of the year. The rules are simple. Homeowners with even-numbered addresses can water their lawns on even dates between 5 am and 10 am from mid-June to mid-September. Odd-numbered addresses enjoy the same rights on odd dates.
The summer of 2012 was unusually hot and dry. The result was evident on the lawns in my neighbourhood. One evening, however, I discovered a puzzling violation of the watering rules. I noticed that a neighbour was watering their lawn after dark (i.e., outside the permitted hours) and on a date on which they weren’t entitled. The householder placed the lawn sprinkler in a discreet place when it was dark enough to be difficult to detect. But – during an unusually dry summer when most lawns have turned a discouraging tan colour – wouldn’t the presence of a front yard full of lush green grass be a giveaway? Unless the homeowner didn’t know about the restriction – although the secretive way in which they violated it suggests they did – we might conclude that they believed that their healthy lawn was more valuable to them than assurance of an adequate water supply for the community.
You stop using it and we’ll stop making it
A similar disconnect occurs concerning the oil and gas industry and energy in general in Canada. Ownership of multiple cars, powerboats, gasoline-powered garden equipment, heated swimming pools, and outdoor jacuzzis appears not to inhibit distaste for the oil and gas industry.
The public opinion polling organization, IPSOS, conducted a survey in 2020 on Canadians’ views on climate change. They discovered that 77% believed human activity caused climate change. They also discovered that less than half of Canadians were willing to save energy, and water, or change their travel plans.
Not all pathways lead to a clean environment
When I was a business student, I worked on a team that did a consulting project for a magazine publisher. The company published a geographic and environmental magazine from an office in a large 19th-century house in a village in eastern Ontario. Most of the writing staff lived in the rural communities in the area and were dedicated environmentalists (according to them). The fact that they drove their SUVs many kilometres a day over Ontario’s backroads to get to and from work wasn’t necessarily proof that they didn’t have a conscience, but it did suggest they didn’t have a sense of irony.