Dx: Diagnosing Planet Earth

Climate change looks different through a public-health lens. We ask who is being harmed, what is making them sick, and what would have to change for them to be well. When we make Planet Earth our patient, those questions lead us from greenhouse gases to the ways we live together.

Start with what is still healthy

There are still beautiful, healthy places in the world. Forests worth protecting. Communities worth caring for. Living systems on which our own health depends.

I want to start there because it matters what we think we are doing. We have a world to care for, and we still have choices about how to care for it.

That doesn't require looking away from the bad news. It gives us a reason to look carefully.

Who is affected? Where? When?

Public health has a familiar way of approaching a problem: person, place, and time.

Climate change worsens health problems through heat, poor air quality, severe weather, changes in infectious-disease risks, and threats to food and water. It also affects mental health. These effects are already part of the work of protecting people and communities. CDC's overview of climate and health

The burdens are uneven. Some people face greater exposure. Some are more sensitive to the hazards. Some have fewer resources with which to protect themselves or recover. Coastal places, drought-prone places, and neighborhoods that hold the heat face different problems. Communities already carrying heavy burdens often have more added to them.

Environmental justice belongs in the diagnosis. If we ask only what the average temperature is doing, we miss who is suffering and what makes them vulnerable.

The physical diagnosis

Greenhouse gases trap heat. Human activities have increased their concentrations, warming the planet and changing the conditions in which people and other living things live. IPCC's synthesis of the science

We need to reduce the pollution causing the warming. We also need to understand why our societies keep producing it.

Look at how we generate electricity, build communities, move around, grow food, and use land. Look at the policies and institutions that shape those activities. These are systems that people have built and that people can change.

“I'm just one person. What can I do?”

I understand this question. Sometimes I want a list of things to buy and not buy. Give me the list, and I will do my best. Then comes the next question: Is it enough?

Public health would never ask someone to solve a population-wide problem alone. Even something as personal as quitting smoking happens in a social world. People need support, and the conditions around them matter.

Climate action deserves that same understanding. We can ask people to make changes while also building communities, policies, and environments that make those changes possible.

The diagnosis gets deeper as we look. We have a physical problem, unequal health consequences, and a collective challenge: how do we become capable of changing the systems that are making us sick?

What gets in the way of working together?

We have useful technologies. We have policy ideas. We have people who care. And still, putting those things together can be painfully difficult.

I think part of the diagnosis is the condition of our collective capacity: our ability to think, connect, make decisions, and keep working together over time.

Consider what we ask of someone whose housing is uncertain, whose work is exhausting, or whose community is recovering from a disaster. Showing up for one more meeting takes time and energy they may not have. The conditions of our lives shape what we can contribute.

One reinforcing loop worries me. Instability creates stress. Stress can reduce the capacity we have for relationships and shared work. When connection weakens, coordination gets harder. Climate solutions become harder to put into practice, and worsening climate impacts bring more instability.

There are places to intervene all around that loop. Housing, health care, social support, and places to gather belong in this conversation. So do the ways our organizations share information, make decisions, and welcome people into the work.

The spaces between us

A relationship needs opportunities to grow. A library, a park, a neighborhood group, or a community organization can give people a reason to encounter one another again and again. Familiarity can become trust. Shared tasks give us practice cooperating.

This is part of what I mean by relational infrastructure: the places, systems, and norms that make repeated interaction and shared work possible. When we ask why collective action is difficult, we should look at whether people have that infrastructure, and who has been left without it.

Next: Prognosis. What happens from here?