Did you know that tomorrow is Earth Day? Perhaps not. Perhaps most years it passes you by, along with all those other incidental days that we are told to care about. I wouldn’t blame you if it did.
As someone who writes about the climate it’s a pretty solid fixture in my calendar. This also means that come tomorrow, my inbox will be full of missives from NGOs and brands and politicians eagerly trying to get my attention. These emails will prompt me to sign a petition, celebrate a new ‘pledge’ or (without a hint of irony) ask me buy their company’s recyclable-climate-saving-product. Because of this annual bombardment, I have mixed feelings about Earth Day. On the one hand it surely can’t be a bad thing to have a day dedicated to our home, the thing that sustains not only our life but that of everything else on it. The flip side of this obvious do-goodery? The inevitable corporate greenwashing that accompanies it.
The origins of the first Earth Day are a fascinating microcosm of the tensions that pervade it today. It turns out that the name and overarching concept was the brainchild of a successful copywriter called Julian Koenig1, the same adman who came up with Volkswagen’s ‘Think Small’ campaign, widely considered the best advert of the 20th century. Koenig had been approached by a US Senator called Gaylord Nelson who wanted to launch a nationwide movement for the environment. Inspired by the huge success of the civil rights movement’s ‘teach-ins’ which had swept university campuses across America, Nelson coined his version the ‘Environmental Teach-In’ campaign, a name Koenig promptly suggested he ditch.
Instead, Koenig came up with some alternatives: Ecology Day, Environment Day, E Day and his personal favourite, Earth Day. Earth day was launched the following January with an accompanying full-page ad in The New York Times, ‘Big names don’t save the environment’ it said, ‘People do.’ The ad was risky, costing half of the campaign’s budget. But it paid off, mobilising a staggering 10% of America’s population to take action in some shape or form. The groundswell of public engagement led to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency and the passage of legislation like the Clean Air Act.
Of course, the actual emergence of America’s environmental movement was a little more complex than this testosterone-fuelled narrative might suggest. In 1962, the marine biologist-turned writer Rachel Carson published a seminal text on the environmental crisis called Silent Spring. In this hugely influential book Carson argued that our treatment of the environment, particularly the use of chemical pesticides, is effectively a form of gradual collective poisoning. ‘Why should we tolerate a diet of weak poisons’ she asked, ‘a home in insipid surroundings, a circle of acquaintances who are not quite our enemies, the noise of motors with just enough relief to prevent insanity? Who would want to live in a world which is just not quite fatal?’.
Both Carson and Koenig were highly effective communicators. They understood that it wasn’t enough for the public to be in possession of the facts, but that those facts needed to be presented in a way that resonated and made sense to the average person on the street. In many ways, this is the same challenge which faces the climate movement today; and one that it has often failed to rise to. Too often we plump for a pessimistic, doom-laden narrative of loss and destruction, instead of painting an alternative vision of a world in which we have managed to achieve the things we so urgently need to.
One thing I take away from this story is the fact that all of us have a role to play in protecting our Earth. We especially need copywriters and artists and writers who are gifted communicators to recognise that their jobs are ‘climate jobs’ too. It’s not just down to the hemp-wearing activists who are willing to go to prison to save the earth, it’s down to HR managers and lecturers and teaching assistants to think about how their role can genuinely contribute to a shift in thought and action, and not simply facilitate greenwashing.
Of course, it’s down to corporations too. A recent study showed that just 57 companies are responsible for a staggering 80% of greenhouse gas emissions since 2016. In this respect, Koenig was wrong to suggest that ‘Big Names’ don’t save the environment. They can, and actively choose not to. Instead they opt for pledges and targets which are always thirty years or so into the future - kicking the proverbial can that bit further down the road.
It’s tempting to paint people like Julian Koenig as the corporate bad guys in this story. After all, his VW campaign ‘did much more than boost sales and build a lifetime of brand loyalty [...] The ad, and the work of the ad agency behind it, changed the very nature of advertising—from the way it's created to what you see as a consumer today.’ But I’m actually inclined to find it deeply encouraging that the man responsible for the most successful car ad ever made also created the strongest "brand" in the environmental field. It speaks to the surprising, creative and collaborative work which needs to happen for us to turn this ship around. Instead of demonising and alienating people like Julian, perhaps we should get them on side and harness their undeniable gifts.
So no, nothing is sacred. Not even our puritanical vision of how the climate crisis will be solved. And I think that’s probably the way it should be.
YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED:
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Murmuration by Grace Pengelly to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.