The Acorn: An Ohlone Love Story

In the early 1900s, an Ohlone woman named Isabel Meadows was recorded describing her longing to eat acorn bread again. Meadows detailed the bread’s flavor; the jelly-like texture; the crispy edges; the people who made it. And she talked about the bread’s place in the creation story of her tribe. A century later, a young Ohlone man named Louis Trevino came across the recordings and recognized Meadows as an ancestor from his community. Trevino and his Ohlone partner, Vincent Medina, are on a journey to bring acorn bread, and the language and traditions connected to it, back to the Ohlone people. 

Sit with Trevino and Medina as they grind acorns in their backyard and cook Ohlone dishes; listen to archival recordings of Meadows; and hear how the Ohlone languages reflect the surrounding mountain ranges and valleys. “The landscape,” said Medina, “gets embedded within our language itself.” 

Louis Trevino (right) and Vincent Medina at Cafe Ohlone, holding a heaping plate of Ohlone food. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

Louis Trevino (right) and Vincent Medina at Cafe Ohlone, holding a heaping plate of Ohlone food. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

Acorns and other nuts in an abalone shell. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

Acorns and other nuts in an abalone shell. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

The Acorn: An Ohlone Love Story is a documentary about Ohlone food, language, land and history -- but, ultimately, it is a story about Ohlone strength, and about how the landscape that stretches from the East Bay of California, where Medina's family is from, to Monterey and Big Sur, where Trevino's family is from, has been, and continues to be, Ohlone land. And at the heart of this story are acorns.

The words “Ohlone Land” painted into the fence at Cafe Ohlone. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

The words “Ohlone Land” painted into the fence at Cafe Ohlone. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

Acorns on a blanket. Credit: Zoe Tennant.

Acorns on a blanket. Credit: Zoe Tennant.


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Michelle Macklem, Zoe Tennant, Vincent Medina, and Louis Trevino.
Edited by Justine Paradis with support from Taylor Quimby and Sam Evans-Brown.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions.

Special thanks to Alicia Adams-Potts, Deirdre Greene, Tina Medina, Dominic Galvan, Angelina Maravilla, Mariah Camara, and the Rumsen Language Learning Community.

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

Ask Sam: Do Hummingbirds Sleep and Other Questions

Another edition of Ask Sam, where Sam answers listener questions about the natural world. This time, questions about hugging trees, bumpy roads, objects stuck on power lines, and epic hummingbird battles.

Featuring special guests, Maddie Sofia, host of NPR's Short Wave, and Kendra Pierre-Louis, climate journalist with Gimlet's How to Save a Planet.

Read More

I Would Prefer Not To

A lot of us may feel like our time and attention is not our own, and can easily disappear into the ether of work and the internet. But rather than merely suggesting a digital detox, artist and writer Jenny Odell presents a third way.

Jenny Odell, credit Ryan Meyer

Jenny Odell, credit Ryan Meyer

In her book How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, Jenny draws on ecology, art, labor history, and literature, to seek a deeper kind of attention: an attention that probes our sense of selfhood, our relationship to place, time, and other species. An attention that reminds us of our being animal on this planet.

Sign up for the Outside/In newsletter for our biweekly reading lists and episode extras.


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Justine Paradis with Taylor Quimby and Sam Evans-Brown.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions and sound from 8 Hours Of.

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

Audio Transcript

Note: Episodes of Outside/In are made as pieces of audio, and some context and nuance may be lost on the page. Transcripts are generated using a combination of speech recognition software and human transcribers, and may contain errors.

Transcript: I Would Prefer Not To

[theme stem]

Sam Evans-Brown: This is Outside/In. I’m Sam Evans-Brown, with producer Justine Paradis.

Justine Paradis: And today, we’re starting with a tree - a tree with a name. Old Survivor.

Jenny Odell: oh yea, it’s funny, I was just over there the other day. So Old Survivor is the name of an old-growth redwood in the East Bay hills that is the single remaining old growth redwood, after these hills were logged.

Sam Evans-Brown: This is Jenny Odell. She’s an artist and writer - she teaches art at Stanford. Justine spoke with her about Old Survivor, a tree who Jenny has written about.

Jenny Odell: I mean, of course there are second and third growth redwoods. But that tree was not cut down because it was considered small by standards of redwoods at that time, which were huge, because they were old growth, and it’s also this strange twisted shape.

Sam Evans-Brown: Before Old Survivor was rediscovered in 1969, it was thought that all of the old growth trees in Oakland were gone. Also known as the Grandfather Tree, this redwood is around five-hundred-years old.

Justine Paradis: Old Survivor germinated before the Spanish invasion of South America... not long after Machu Picchu was completed in the Inca Empire, and just a few years before Queen Elizabeth I was coronated at Westminster Abbey.

Jenny writes about how it would have grown alongside generations of Ohlone people, living, growing old, dying... and in the 19th century, it would have kept growing, as grizzly bears, coho salmon, and California condors disappeared from the East Bay.

Jenny Odell: It's a witness. And what I find so amazing about that is… it's not abstract. That tree is the same tree. It has a physical aura about it, like you can put your hand on it and know that it's been living for that entire time.

Sam Evans-Brown: Old Survivor appears in the introduction of Jenny’s NYT best-selling book How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy. The book is an exploration of how to withdraw our attention from the forces that would monetize it - like tech companies, for instance, but also work - and asks us to reexamine our participation in social media. Jenny is of course just one of many people examining these topics these days -- but one thing that sets her book apart is her exploration of nature in relationship with our attention, our time, and our productivity. And the way she draws inspiration from the likes of Old Survivor.

Justine Paradis: Jenny compares Old Survivor to a tree in a Taoist story attributed to the Chinese philosopher, Zhuang Zhou. In the story, a carpenter comes upon an old tree - it’s gnarled, and too big in the wrong ways, and he doesn’t cut it down because it’s not useful.

But later, the tree comes to him in a dream, and asks:

Jenny Odell: … who are you to call me useless? Kind of, useful for what? And my uselessness has been very useful to me because I have survived. And so the Old Survivor happens to be almost like, a real life version of the useless tree.

[harp]

Jenny Odell: I just find it to be such an inspiring example, not only of refusal and resistance, but existing in a way that’s at odds with the surrounding value system, so there’s obviously, that creates tension, but it may also be what helps you survive.

[mux rising, maybe stems/remix again]

Sam Evans-Brown: This is Outside/In, a show about the natural world and how we use it. I’m Sam Evans-Brown. Today’s show - a conversation with artist and writer Jenny Odell.

A lot of us may feel like our time and attention is not our own - and can easily disappear into the ether of work and the internet. But rather than merely suggesting a digital detox, in her book, Jenny Odell presents a third way. She draws on ecology, art, labor history, literature… and explores the seeking of a deeper kind of attention. An attention that probes our sense of selfhood, our relationship to place, time, and other species. An attention that reminds us - of our being animal on this planet.

Here’s producer Justine Paradis speaking with Jenny Odell.

[theme fade]

Justine Paradis: In 2016, Jenny had just moved to an apartment in Oakland, California. And she decided to make it a point to get to know her neighbors.

Jenny Odell: They have this… If I’m not in the living room, so they can’t see me, they will fly over on the roof corner that’s just outside my window and kind of stare at me. Like, where’s my snack?

Justine Paradis: Wait, like looking for you? Oh my god.

Jenny Odell: Yeah, haha.

Justine Paradis: These neighbors, by the way, are crows - who you can sometimes actually hear in the background of her recording.

Jenny had learned that crows can come to recognize human faces, and they’re intelligent, you know, by human standards of intelligence.

Justine Paradis: Four years is a while to be friends with a bird.

Jenny Odell: Yeah. I mean and it's funny to think about that first year. I couldn’t even get that to stop here. And then it was a really big deal when they landed on the balcony. That took a really long time. And then now we have this wooden bowl that has rocks and pine cones and stuff in it, and I started hiding a peanut in there. And they seem to really enjoy that, but that's on the table, like really close to the door. Then there was one day where they took the peanut from somewhere else and they put in the bowl, which was very confusing to me. I was like, this is backwards. And now it's an advanced game where I put peanuts under a small silver bowl that’s upside down in the bigger bowl.

Justine Paradis: Oh my god.

Jenny Odell: And they're very into that.

Justine Paradis: This was again, in 2016, and by the end of that year, Donald Trump had been elected president. It was a high-anxiety moment for a lot of people, including Jenny - and she was in a dark place in her relationship particularly with social media -

Jenny Odell: You know, caught in a loop of urgency and reaction, what we would now call doomscrolling. I don't know if we had that term at the time. And just a very kind of claustrophobic way of being, it felt like? And to just look at them, and sort of see myself from their perspective, was so therapeutic to me at the time. It was like, being reminded that I am an animal, and that is being viewed by another animal, that itself has a completely different understanding probably of space and time, and what even ‘a place’ means. Right? Like, I think a lot about what this hill looks like to them. It’s a completely different map.

Justine Paradis: Around the same period, Jenny also found herself spending a lot of time in the Rose Garden in Oakland, a spot just five minutes from her house officially called the Morcom Amphitheater of Roses.

Jenny Odell: It’s a little bit unusual because it’s got a very sort of labyrinthine quality and it’s very close to a lot of more urban-feeling stuff… so it’s kind of a little pocket hidden away. And so I was going there, and kind of sitting, and “doing nothing.” And then inevitably started thinking about why….

Justine Paradis: Being there, she told me, felt instinctual. Plus, around that time, there was also the Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, a disaster at a warehouse in which dozens of people died.

Jenny Odell: A lot of artists, friends of friends, passed away in that fire.

Justine Paradis: It was at a concert right?

Jenny Odell: Yeah, it was a show, like an underground show. And so it was just a lot to deal with at that time. For me one of the most important parts of not trying to do something, these things that you notice, they kind of flood in.

[beat]

So, one of the things that became noticeable to me was the importance of a space like that. A space where you are not a customer. You're not a performer. You know, you're just a visitor, and there's something about things like public parks and libraries that to me are very inspiring in terms of spaces of recuperation but also inspiration, and fellow feeling with humans and nonhumans.

Justine Paradis: As Jenny was starting to get to know the crows and trying not to doomscroll, she was also invited to give a talk at a conference called EYEO, which exists kind of at the border of art and technology. This talk eventually became the first chapter of her book, and it started from that question she’d been asking herself as in the Rose Garden: why did nothing feel so necessary? What did she even mean by “nothing”?

Jenny Odell: I mean, nothing is a complicated word already, by itself. And I kind of tried to set up early in the book: that my nothing only appears as nothing from a certain point of view, and that point of view would be one in which productivity sort of equals work-output-per-unit-of-time maybe, or capitalism-informed notions of what progress and growth mean… and so that kind of view of progress and productivity would tend to see a lot of the types of activities and attention that I’m advocating for as nothing, because we don't produce anything and often I think also are maybe difficult to commodify, difficult to verbalize. To use a kind of dumb example, it’s something that’s uninstagrammable, right? It’s like, you just experienced it, and then it was gone, and you don’t “have anything to show for it,” even though to me those are some of the most meaningful moments in life. So, yeah. By nothing, it’s sort of tongue-in-cheek, it’s obviously not nothing to me.

Justine Paradis: One thing I really appreciate about Jenny’s book is that it’s not prescriptive. She’s not telling you specifically and definitively what nothing is, or despite the title, how to do nothing exactly. But in other interviews, she’s said that going on a walk is maybe the representative example. Approached a certain way, a walk doesn’t have a purpose. The goal of a walk isn’t to finish the walk - being on the walk is an end in and of itself. How could a walk be “efficient”? Often, you’re choosing the least efficient path, the most wandering and circuitous.

And then, as for “attention” -

Jenny Odell: I remain endlessly fascinated with how much there is to notice and that’s kind of the artist in me talking a little bit, but I think that we've all had experiences where something or someone pointed something out to us that was right in front of us and then it’s life changing, because then you notice it for the rest of your life. That's happened for me with birds, right? The idea that before 2016, I was pointing my eyes at all of these very same birds, probably, and I’m not sure what I saw. I probably just saw "birds" or I didn’t see anything at all. That’s kind of mindblowing to me.

[mux]

So it's for me it's tied to choice, and direction, so you can choose to direct your attention, including you can choose to try to notice what you haven't noticed, which I think is the most important form of that.

Justine Paradis: Social media is a good example in your book. Like, these days the science of our attention is really well-studied and sort of employed to our disadvantage, specifically on social media, which takes advantage of our psychology, our need for dopamine hits. So, withdrawing your attention and resisting the attention economy feels like it's a skill, like something we almost need to be trained in, but it also feels so monumental. But I also want to point out that this line of thinking can also feel kind of basic. Like, you know, social media is rotting the millennial brains, and “the kids these days,” but your book goes a lot further than that. You're not saying buy some land, retreat, turn on, tune in, drop out, right?

Jenny Odell: Yeah, absolutely. The idea of a social media is not something that I have a problem with, and I would consider predigital things like gossip to be a form of social network. You know, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be connected to other people and share information. That seems like a very basic human thing to me. Or even wanting to share entertaining things with your friends, right? To me, the problem arises pretty specifically from the structure of the mainstream social media platforms that we do use, where certain type of expression are favored and then that really has a snowball effect, on top of, as you mention, this kind of really nefarious attention on their part to how psychology works, and how to keep a user on a platform as much as possible.

Justine Paradis: The infinite scroll is one of these techniques. There’s no bottom - there’s always more to see. Eye-catching notifications and videos that automatically start to play as you try to pass by. Like a slot machine at a casino, researchers have found that these stimuli literally trigger the same parts of the brain as an addictive substance.

So it’s like these kinds of structural things about commercialized social media I have a problem with.

[mux]

I think it's a little bit unreasonable to stop paying a certain type of attention without suggesting another type of attention. So, for me, I think - i started paying attention to ecology, specifically to birds, and that is so absorbing to me that it's addictive in its own way, and so it's not like I suddenly gained this ability to not be absorbed in anything. It’s that I was able to find something that made me feel more, kind of, in the world rather than out of it and that was also was kind of able to help me break out of these cycles of anxiety and despair, and these kind of feelings that are really driving the attention economy.

Justine Paradis: Yeah, I mean, one thing that you have said is that a reason to do nothing is that “it’s a reminder that you're alive.” So I feel one thing the book does is sort of explain why it's important to withdraw your attention, and what it means for our collective life as well as our individual life. Nature and ecology feel like one of the means to do that and perhaps a critical one. But I wonder if you can explain what is the importance of nature and ecology in withdrawing attention, or retraining it?

Jenny Odell: I think, for me, in the book, it sort of functions as both a metaphor and as a subject, and as content. Like I think as a metaphor, ecology is really useful for me in thinking about context. The role of context. So, you can't look at any supposed entity in ecology without starting to notice how interconnected it is with so many other things, right? Like one of my favorite examples is the way fungus interacts with trees, and at the point of contact, sometimes the fungal bits are almost in the tree. It’s very hard to separate them, even functionally. You know, and I mention in the book, I'm biracial and so I like thinking about in-between zones or things like atmospheric rivers that bring water from the Philippines to where I am. And it just really, I think it teaches you how to think about and appreciate complexity, and really sit with that, which to me the opposite of how information circulates on social media. So that’s the metaphor part of it, but I think just as a subject, of looking… I don’t know, maybe not everyone feels this way, but I think you can just pick anything and look at it and you just pretty soon get bowled over by how strange and amazing it is.

I mean yesterday, I was reading a book, actually I was reading a book about quantum physics, for someone who doesn't know anything about it, and was having my mind blown in that way, and then this bee came over to where I was sitting, like one of those really big bumble bees. And this bench I was sitting at happened, it’s very kind of ensconced in a plant.

[mux/sound design]

My point being: the bee is right next to me and it was just kind of making the rounds of this plant. And I was like in bee universe for a while. I was looking at its eyes, and then I realized I had never looked at the flowers on that plant, because, I don’t know, it doesn't look like that interesting of a plant, but when you see it from the perspective of a bee, it looks completely different.

Justine Paradis: Jenny grew up around San Francisco - actually, in Cupertino, where the Apple campus is now located, and How to Do Nothing is specifically rooted in the Bay Area, and engaging with the idea of become a citizen in one’s place ---

Jenny Odell: For me, I think it’s familiarity, just like with a person. It’s a familiarity with the character of a place. And I think my reading of it is informed by what I talk about in the book, the experience of growing up in the Bay Area without knowing it, without knowing what the Bay Area is, until basically right before I wrote this book

Justine Paradis: As Jenny got to know the nature of the Bay Area she writes about an experience that I think many of us half felt: that a connection with nature can bring a welcome sense of our own smallness, our own membership in a community that is bigger than human and bigger than this time.

Jenny Odell: ...so the landscape is a community, it has these relationships, and you are a member of that community. And you have responsibility to that community.

Justine Paradis: Where a profile on social media centers the user, nature breaks down the idea of an individual self, of a species, of human constructions.

Jenny Odell: My favored version of bioregionalism is one that actually makes the notion of boundaries and borders absurd.

[mux begin]

I think that's what you see with tree roots and the fungus, but also things like weather and migration, successional stages, right? There’s a place I really like to hike that has a bunch of bay trees and manzanita and there’s a really lovely sign that basically tells you, if you come back in 100 years, it's not going to look like this. Because there are stages! Right? In these places, nothing is frozen. And so that’s, when you observe the character of a place, it's always a moment in time.

Justine Paradis: In a way, an engagement with the local ecosystem is a reframing device: a mechanism that makes it possible to notice something we haven’t noticed before, to literally see something from a different perspective.

Like, for instance, when Jenny decided to reacquaint herself with the Calabazas Creek, which was one of those things that had kind of existed in the background for her growing up, she decided to visit it at different points along its journey, leaving the channels in which people move, like the sidewalk and the street, and following it where it had been directed in a concrete channel, and where it flowed behind a strip mall.

Jenny Odell: And I remember looking up out of the creek and just seeing the back of the Bank of America.

And, almost like looking at the back of a piece of embroidery, she saw her hometown from the water’s point of view.

But this is just one of many reframing devices.

Justine Paradis: Nature is just one of the tools that you talk about… and you turn a lot to art. I wonder if you can talk about John Cage, who is the composer most famous for 4’33” which brings audiences into a music hall and seats them for four minutes of silence. And is almost sort of like made a joke of, like here’s this contemporary art gimmick. But how do you see John Cage?

Jenny Odell: Yeah, it is very easy to see the piece that way. And I should add that I think he had a very good sense of humor.

Justine Paradis: That’s good to hear!

Jenny Odell: Yeah there’s a playfulness irony in his work, which I really love. But, yeah, I feel like John Cage is for me is, on the level of sound, one of the best examples of how an artist can create an architecture of attention, so they can set up these kind of parameters, and conditions, in which you, the listener or the participant, will hear sounds or notice sounds that you would not have otherwise. And so, my personal experience of that was going to see a John Cage piece performed at the San Francisco Symphony piece. It wasn’t 4'33". It was a composition, that involved 3 vocalists, all dressed in plain clothes, which was really strange to see at the Symphony, and the score had lots of chance operations in it. So the liner notes said: this will last anywhere from 15-30 minutes, depending on what happens and there was lots of things like shuffling cards, the director making a milkshake in a blender, you know, just all kinds of interesting sounds being considered as part of this musical composition.

And it had two really interesting effects on me. One, was to notice things about the Symphony Hall that I hadn't noticed before. Like, usually musicians wear black. Usually people in the audience don't laugh. And it highlighted the whole structure of performance itself. And then I walked outside, and I just realized that I could hear everything better, or I could hear some things probably for the first time. This whole composition going all the time: the buses, people walking, and you know, just everything that's been going on this whole time that I did not have access to, perceptually. So, I don't think I ever heard anything the same way after that, and it sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s not. It permanently changed the way that I hear things. And that’s one of the reasons that I find that kind of art to be so generous. Because I think it puts new things in the world for you, and it makes your experience richer, and it gives you more access to the things that are around you.

Sam Evans-Brown: More from Jenny Odell - when Outside/In continues.

BREAK

Sam Evans-Brown: This is Outside/In, a show about the natural world and how we use it. I’m Sam Evans-Brown, and today on the show, a conversation with Jenny Odell, artist and author of How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy.

For Jenny, engaging with place and ecology also meant taking on a responsibility to that place. She wrote, “It’s important for me to link my critique of the attention economy to the promise of bioregional awareness because I believe that capitalism, colonialist thinking, loneliness, and an abusive stance toward the environment all coproduce one another.”

Here’s Justine Paradis.

//

Justine Paradis: The idea of an eight-hour work day is the product of a labor movement, beginning in the mid-1800s. It advanced the radical idea that people deserve 8 hours to work, 8 hours to rest, and 8 hours for “what you will.”

Jenny quotes Samuel Gompers, a 19th century labor group leader, who, sidenote was also pretty racist . Gompers wrote, “What does labor want? It wants the earth and the fullness thereof.”

But the eight-hour work day is far from universal. I would say it is not an ideal honored by contemporary work culture: the gig economy can turn any available minute to a potential earning opportunity. Performance-based jobs reward productivity and even punish the lack thereof. And meanwhile, work emails ping their way into dinnertime -- social media might be a way to connect with friends but it becomes, unwittingly or not, a personal brand - and ideals of self-optimization can make even meditation competitive.

In this culture, Jenny writes, “Attention may be the last thing we have left to withdraw.”

Justine Paradis: You point to a couple examples of people, both real people from history, whether they’re mythologized a little bit, but also fictional characters who have refused. I think one of my favorite moments was when you talked about Bartleby the Scrivener… how did Bartleby refuse? Can you tell the story about Bartleby?

Jenny Odell: Sure. So Bartleby is the character of the Melville short story “Bartleby the Scrivener” who is famous for saying “I would prefer not to.” I actually have a tote bag that says “I would prefer not to.”

Justine Paradis: Ha! He was monetized!

Jenny Odell: That’s Melville House’s tote bag, and they’re my publisher. And I actually was wearing it on a walk and this woman was driving by and she rolled down her window and she was like, “Bartleby!” So clearly, people associate Bartleby with this phrase, as they should.

But, uh, Bartleby is a copyist, who is asked to copy something by his boss, and keeps saying, “I would prefer not to,” and there’s never really an explanation. And it's told from the point of view of the boss, who is just completely perplexed. And the thing I find so magical about that phrase is: it's not, "I won't." It's not “I will” and it’s not “I won’t.” It’s, “I would prefer not to.”

[mux]

And I think it’s worth noting that the boss was not asking about his preference. Like his preference was not a part of the equation. So, not only is he not doing it, he's also completely refusing the terms of the question, which I think is a much wider form of refusal, and is so helpful as a sort of model of engagement or disengagement, whatever you want to call it.

Justine Paradis: an important word for you is resist, in the title. And you really tie this history of doing nothing to a history of labor and work and the commodification not only of our spaces, but of our time and our days. Can you talk about why resistance and refusal is tied to the reclaiming of attention?

Jenny Odell: I mean, I just see it as a kind of preliminary step that leads to other forms of action, so I would never say that “doing nothing” as I’m describing it in the book is itself activism, for example. I think I describe it at some point as a waystation on the way there. I like to think about this kind of initial step of unlinking one’s own forms of thinking and value from the sort of capitalist ether and the culture of personal branding and optimization, as like, again, a first step that might then allow you to notice different kinds of things, notice different actors in your environment, maybe begin to seek more context, and reach out and form different kinds of networks that feel more intentional, or to simply just rest, right? Which, I think a lot of people are just denied rest. And I think the tricky thing is, on the one hand, I find that promising, and I think I am addressing an individual within the space that they have to redirect their attention, at the same time that I have to acknowledge that not everyone has the same amount of that space or kind of that space. Like, I don't want to fall into the self-help bucket of like, just do it, right?

Justine Paradis: Just do nothing!

Jenny Odell: Just do nothing, right? It’s like, that’s not possible.

Justine Paradis: I mean, I feel like there's kind of a caricature of how this idea could be used, with the disillusioned tech founder who has inventor's remorse who discovers meditation, and says ‘use mindfulness to self-optimize’ at his retreat center. It’s like, almost any of these ideas can be kind of just taken, and then rebranded or monetized.

Jenny Odell: Oh yeah, believe me, I know.

Justine Paradis: Like, forest bathing retreats or something.

Jenny Odell: Yeah, and I was honestly biting my nails when the book came out because it’s so ripe for that, right? And I think maybe one of the things that would resist that, maybe, is that I think I put a lot of emphasis in the book on both gathering context and humility cuz I see those as combined. You know, to seek context on something is to admit that you don't know the whole story. You need more information. You're not sure. You need the expertise of people who have come before you… you know, whether that's simply the history of activism in your area, or simply ways that you have been complicit in something without realizing it. It’s kind of like, again, it’s the thing that has been right in front of you the whole time kind of dynamic. And then sort of with that same humility, asking, what can I do to be of support? How can I fit into this? How can I be useful? I say useful, useful in a different way than a useful tree. But, yeah, for me I think there's a big difference between that and being like, "I just discovered meditation."

Justine Paradis: Who has the time and luxury to say, I would prefer not to?

Jenny Odell: I can't speak for other people...I have the experience that I have. One book that I was really struck by last year was On the Clock by Emily Gwendolsburger - where she works at an Amazon fulfillment center, a call center and a McDonalds, kind of similar to Nickel and Dimed. I really recommend that book, because that will show you this horrible calculus of survival, not just being worked extremely hard on job, but then the commute, and trying to rest enough to be able to do that job. That's a situation with little to no temporal autonomy. No time. I would imagine not a lot of attention to spare. And I do also find it really inspiring, the examples she gives in that book, of ways that - even though people are not allowed to talk to each other on the warehouse floor, for example, the little ways people find around that. Or you know, she sneaks in ear pods one day, so that she can listen to something, right? So anyway, I would point to things like that that are more informed about that kind of life experience than mine.

Justine Paradis: In the book, Jenny’s Rose Garden is both a literal example of the kind of space we need to do nothing and a metaphor for the space we need on a more psychological and sociological level. It’s an example of a kind of space where a person can just exist - not as a worker or performer, or as a customer, user, or audience member - where you don’t have to buy something to feel like you have the right to be there.

These spaces are increasingly rare and under threat. Both the literal ones, like libraries and parks, and more abstractly, things like free time. The right to fall asleep in public.

Take even stopping to look at a bird in the public space of a sidewalk - not too unusual, but not ‘not unusual’ either. You might be standing still, tilted head, staring off into space. Maybe you’re peering into a bush.

But this kind of behavior can get people into trouble, some people more than others. Think about Christian Cooper, the Black birder in Central Park, when a white woman called the police on him after he asked her to leash her dog.

In fact, saying “I would prefer not to” arguably doesn’t even work out for Bartleby. I’m gonna tell you how the story ends - his boss is so dumbfounded by his refusal that he ends up moving offices. Bartleby takes up residence there, but when the new tenants move in, eventually, he’s jailed, and he dies in prison.

[mux]

Personally, I read “I would prefer not to” as another example of a reframing device, like John Cage or viewing the neighborhood from the point of view of a creek.

Jenny Odell: The 'I would prefer not to" kind of approach for me is to just a) be very aware of oneself, you know, and that platform, and the ways it's working up on you and working upon your reactions… things like anger, and shame, and loneliness, these are things that very quickly can fuel your interactions with social media...

The other part of it is kind of taking the center of gravity, and moving it out of that and into the world around you, and these kind of more specific, context-filled connections that you have with people, or with a place, with other beings. That that is, for me, that is what will anchor you. I’m suspicious of digital detox rhetoric for so many reasons but that’s one of them. I think if you want to truly shift your relationship- it’s going to have to be about something bigger than that.

[music]

Justine Paradis: In the introduction of How to Do Nothing, Jenny reflects on the story of Old Survivor, the 500-year-old redwood in Oakland, and the Taoist story of the useless tree, writing:

“The shape of the useless tree does more than just protect it from the carpenter; it is also the shape of care, of branching out over the thousands of animals who seek shelter, thus providing the grounds for life itself. I want to imagine a whole forest of useless trees, branches densely interwoven, providing an impenetrable habitat for birds, snakes, lizards, squirrels, insects, fungi, and lichen. And eventually, through his generous, shaded, and useless environment might come a weary traveler from the land of usefulness, a carpenter who has laid down his tools. Maybe after a bit of dazed wandering, he might take a cue from the animals and have a seat beneath an oak tree. Maybe, for the first time ever, he’d take a nap.”

END

Sam Evans-Brown: That was writer and artist Jenny Odell, author of How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, which came out in paperback in December 2020.

This episode of Outside/In was produced by Justine Paradis, with Taylor Quimby and me, Sam Evans-Brown.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Maureen McMurray is Director of Pond Skating.

Music from Blue Dot Session

Theme is Breakmaster Cylinder

Outside/In is a production of New Hampshire Public Radio.

Justine Paradis: Do they ever bring you things?

Jenny Odell: They have not brought me anything except one time I wrapped a peanut in some foil, just to see if they could get it out, and they did, and they made it the foil into a little ball and they put it in the bowl.

Justine Paradis: oh!

Jenny Odell: And I was like, how polite! Thank you.

Thin Green Line

Cops presents a world that is much more violent than the real world and much scarier than the real world,” said Dan Taberski, host of Running from COPS, a podcast series investigating the long-running TV show that follows police officers on the job. Taberski and a team of screeners watched and took notes on 846 episodes of the show.

"Three times the amount of violent crime, four times the amount of drug crime, ten times the amount of prostitution. It also presents a world where the police if much more effective than they really are. So if they pull somebody over, it ends up in arrest something like 90% of time.”

Part of the reason this is significant is that police have editing power on COPS, which means the show provides insight into how police officers want to be seen by an American audience.

There’s another show that uses the same model - same reality TV style, same oversight - called North Woods Law. It follows state conservation officers employed by New Hampshire’s Fish & Game Department. But on North Woods Law, you’re more likely to see an injured loon than an honest-to-goodness arrest.

If COPS presents a world more dangerous than reality, North Woods Law presents something else. But what?

Producer Taylor Quimby makes his report on watching North Woods Law in hopes of gaining a better understanding on the purpose and the role of conservation law enforcement.

Featuring Jamiles Lartey, William Browne, Erika Billerbeck, Colin Woodard, Colonel Kevin Jordan, Dan Taberski, and Scott Rouleau.

For more on the history of policing in America, we highly recommend “American Police” from NPR’s Throughline.

Editor’s Note: A previous version of this story stated incorrectly that, “the Adirondack Park was created, in part, to protect the watershed of New York City”. The Adirondack Park was in fact created (in part) to protect the watershed of New York state, and various waterways that were a vital part of the state’s economy at the time.


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Taylor Quimby with Justine Paradis and Sam Evans-Brown.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions.

Special thanks to Jenny Palomino, Meredith Gore, Charles Huyck, David Sykes, John Sigler, Tim Huss, and Karl Jacoby. 

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

If You Wanna Get Koselig, You Gotta Get a Little Friluftsliv

 

It’s the Outside/In how-to-thrive-in-winter recommendation show, 2021 edition.

For many of us during the pandemic, the dark and cold of winter brings a special sense of dread. But it’s not just this year: the seasonal darkness often collectively takes us by surprise. Like clockwork, we forget how dark and cold it gets - and it turns out, there are reasons for that

But our perception of the seasonal darkness can also be influenced by our attitudes about it. 

In Norway, cultural ideas around winter help shape attitudes and experiences of the cold. 

Bundling up, courtesy Sam Evans-Brown

Bundling up, courtesy Sam Evans-Brown

First, there’s the idea of getting cozy, or kosileg. Think candles, slippers, the glow of a fire in the window on a snowy night, eating wood-fired pizza under the stars, or “the smell of baked goods and the Christmas tree,” said Anders Folleras, college friend of Sam Evans-Brown and honorary Outside/In Norwegian cultural attaché. 

Koselig is the Norwegian analogue of the Danish idea of hygge. But there’s another concept that goes hand-in-hand with koselig: friluftsliv.

“Being outdoorsy, I’d say,” said Folleras. “Outdoor lifestyle.”

Embracing friluftsliv means open-air living, or getting outside every day, and outdoor adventures for all ages. 

So, we think: if you really want to get koselig, you’ve gotta get friluftsliv too. 

 

Credit: Sam Evans-Brown

Credit: Sam Evans-Brown

Embracing the Outdoors: Outside/In Friluftsliv Recommendations 

 Dress for the temperature. We like the saying, “there is no bad weather, just bad clothing.” For instance, as dogsledder Blair Braverman tweeted, if you’re aiming for warmth, don’t look for “sleek” coats. Embrace the puff! 

 Layer up. Keep breathable layers closest to the skin, less permeable layers on the outside. 

The thermos in action, courtesy Justine Paradis

The thermos in action, courtesy Justine Paradis

 Experiment and get to know the cold. Figure out what works for you. What’s your circulation like? Do you need hand warmers in your gloves, or you good? Sam’s recommendations for how to dress are really just encouragement that you can get outside when it’s really cold and wintery, and once you experiment with it, you’ll see that it’s possible. 

 Getting a little chilly is not the end of the world. Yes, there’s a limit to this, but it’s empowering to learn the way your body works, how you respond to the cold, and what your limits are. 

 Set a goal. Pick an area, like your town or a neighboring preserve, and set a goal to walk all the trails on the map, a strategy also, unfortunately, known as redlining. It took a few years, but Erika visited all 270 parks in Madison, Wisconsin,  using this approach. At the beginning of the pandemic, Sam decided to visit his neighboring beaver pond every day.

Take it one step at a time. Winter adventuring takes time and cold-weather gear costs money. If you’re on a budget, buy one piece of gear a year, and work up to more ambitious excursions over time.

 Bring a thermos. A hot drink makes everything better. 

 Snowy night walks. Magical! Especially after a storm. 

Screen-Time: Outside/In Koselig Recommendations

The latest season of The Crown has some serious Outside/In moments, especially in episode two, “The Balmoral Test.” The episode ties into themes we explored in “Fortress Conservation'' about how elitism pervaded 20th century conservation. In my opinion, you don’t need to have watched the rest of the show to enjoy the latest season. - Justine

Alien Worlds on Netflix is a really cool mix of speculative science fiction and nature documentary. The basis of the show is that scientists have been searching for “Goldilocks exoplanets” for decades now, so how would different biological concepts play out under different Earth-like conditions? So, for example, the first episode explores what life might look like on a planet with two times Earth's gravity… the extra gravity makes the air in the atmosphere really dense, so it operates more like water. So there are these animals that they call “sky grazers” that are basically swimming through the atmosphere, eating floating seeds. - Taylor

Occupied, a Norwegian climate change political thriller set in the near future. For me, part of the fun of watching foreign language shows is I have to read the subtitles. It's one of the only times that I can’t multitask, and in some ways that feels relaxing. - Erika

The Expanse, a sci-fi show set in a future in which humans have colonized the solar system. It’s pure escapism. They do the physics of space really well - for instance, because they’re on ships, the gravity makes liquids behave kind of strangely. There’s this scene where a character pours a shot of whiskey and it does this little spiral out of the bottle into the glass, and they don’t even mention it. - Sam

 

Off-screen: Crafts, Games, and More Koselig Recs

 Embroidery. I can’t resist recommending a craft and this is one you can do while watching TV, listening to Outside/In… whatever you decide to do. Embroidery doesn’t require a lot of tools (embroidery floss and hoops are inexpensive and you can embroider just about any fabric, though I recommend not using anything stretchy to start), and you can do a lot with a few basic stitches. - Erika

Paper gems. This is another great craft that also doesn’t require a lot of tools. I just found a free template online, picked some card-stock I like, and spent several evenings making garlands as gifts (here’s a beautiful but slightly more complicated template I want to try, with a helpful tutorial). - Justine

Broom making. You too can make your own handbrooms! Sunhouse Crafts has a great starter kit and instructional videos to get started. The only other thing you need is a stick (and scissors). - Erika

This playlist of author Haruki Murakami’s jazz vinyl collection. I put it on shuffle and imagine that I’m in his erstwhile jazz club in Tokyo. - Justine

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi. This book came out in 2016, but I just read it a few months ago. It looks at how the legacy of enslavement passes through generations, starting in the 18th century in Ghana with two half sisters - one becomes enslaved, the other does not. So, the book follows a different person from each side of the family through the generations, all the way to America, through the Civil War, Harlem... it's written just with so much care and love, and each of the characters in each of the chapters really just come alive. I just loved it and found it transporting and beautiful. - Erika

Cartographers, a mapmaking game. The theme is that you're a cartographer and you're building a fantasy map that has forests, rivers, and occasionally hoards of goblins. You arrange the shapes of those different land masses onto a grid. It's kind of like Tetris or like Blokus, but has this feeling that you're making a map. You can inject a little more artistic aesthetic into it if you want, or just do it really simple and play it for the points. My nine-year-old likes to play it, and he doesn't like competitive games, so we play it for the fun of it and de-emphasize the points, and just add them together at the end. - Taylor

Wingspan, a competitive card-driven board game. The art is gorgeous - this is a beautiful game that’s very inspired by the natural world. The cards represent real birds, and each bird has a special power. You're attracting them to your nature preserve throughout the game. Their powers are actually associated with the behavior of that species, so with predator birds,  you get points for killing mice, while other birds cash seeds in the bark of trees. - Taylor (and Sam)

Yoga nidra, or “yogic sleep.” I’ve definitely had moments of anxiety during the pandemic, and I’ll use this technique sometimes if I have trouble sleeping. It's part of a restorative yoga practice, and I’ve also seen it called body scan meditation. Basically, you'll lie down in a comfortable position, and your teacher (or the video) will prompt you basically to move your mental attention to different parts of your body in a scan. It activates the parasympathetic nervous system, which is also active during sleep, during digestion, etc. It can literally put me to sleep. It’s very effective for me. - Justine

The Outside/In winter fund drive is nearly over, and we’re almost to our goal of 100 donors! Visit outsideinradio.org/donate to support the show - and vote on the topic of a potential bonus episode if we reach our goal.


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Sam Evans-Brown, Taylor Quimby, and Justine Paradis.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions.

Special thanks to Anders Folleras.

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

Coal and Solar in the Navajo Nation

This week, we’re featuring an episode from A Matter of Degrees, a podcast about climate change hosted by Dr. Leah Stokes and Dr. Katherine Wilkinson. This episode was reported by Julian Brave NoiseCat.

The energy transition isn’t going to be a one-size-fits-all process. In this episode, a broad lesson gleaned from a very specific story: the effort to move from coal to solar in the Navajo nation.

Featuring Wahleah Johns and Andrew Curley.

Sign up for the Outside/In newsletter for our biweekly reading lists and episode extras.

Support Outside/In by making a donation in our year end fund drive.


Credits

Outside/In is produced by Sam Evans-Brown, Taylor Quimby, and Justine Paradis.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

Climate Migration

In the coming decades, the scale of climate migration could be dizzying. In one projection, four million people in the United States could find themselves “living at the fringe,” outside ideal conditions for human life.

In collaboration with By Degrees, NHPR’s climate change reporting initiative, we’re devoting the entire episode to answering one question: if you’re worried about climate, where should you live? And how should places prepare for the wave of climate migrants just around the corner?

Featuring Bess Samuel, Jesse Jaime, Aurelia Jaime Ramirez, Kate McCarthy, Elena Mihaly, Jola Ajibade, Nadege Green, Suzi Patterson, Alex Whittemore, and Mike Hass.

Sign up for the Outside/In newsletter for our biweekly reading lists and episode extras.

Donate to Outside/In during our year end fund drive!

Links

“Locals Bristle As Out-of-Towners Fleeing Virus Hunker Down In New Hampshire Homes” by Annie Ropeik for New Hampshire Public Radio

Yayoi Kusama’s “Fireflies on the Water” (2002) by maurizio mucciola on Flickr.

Yayoi Kusama’s “Fireflies on the Water” (2002) by maurizio mucciola on Flickr.

Nadege Green’s reporting on climate gentrification in season 3 of There Goes the Neighborhood, a collaboration between WNYC and WLRN.

“Why climate migration is not managed retreat: Six justifications” (2020), coauthored by Idowu (Jola) Ajibade and published in Global Environmental Change.

ProPublica’s Climate Migration project

The EPA’s Climate Resiliency Screening Index (2017). Scroll to page 79 for their list of the top 150 most resilient counties in the United States.

The quote from Charles Simic comes from Letters of Transit: Reflections on Exile, Identity, Language, and Loss (The New Press, 1999).

“Immigration, exile, being uprooted and made a pariah may be the most effective way yet devised to impress on an individual the arbitrary nature of his or her own existence. Who needed a shrink or a guru when everyone we met asked us who we were the moment we opened our mouths and they heard the accent?

The truth is, we had no simple answers. Being rattled around in freight trains, open trucks, and ratty ocean-liners, we ended up being a puzzle even to ourselves. At first, that was hard to take; then we got used to the idea. We began to savor it, to enjoy it. Being nobody struck me personally as being far more interesting than being somebody. The streets were full of these "somebodys" putting on confident airs. Half the time I envied them; half the time I looked down on them with pity. I knew something they didn't, something hard to come by unless history gives you a good kick in the ass: how superfluous and insignificant in any grand scheme mere individuals are. And how pitiless are those who have no understanding that this could be their fate too.”


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Justine Paradis, Annie Ropeik, Taylor Quimby, and Sam Evans-Brown with support from Cori Princell and Tat Bellamy-Walker.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Massimo Ruberti.

Special thanks to Anna Marandi, Chris Campany, Lauren Gaudette, and Garrett Neff. 

Thank you also to everyone who responded to the survey and to those we spoke with for this episode: Alex Whittemore, Daniel Mitchell, Mark Nystrom, Meaghan Kelly, Alex Texeira, Jesse Jaime, Aurelia Jaime Ramirez, Jenny Stowe, Mike Hass, Suzi Patterson, Mike Thiel, Allyshia Dycus, and of course, Bess Samuel

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.

The Forest for the Carbon

A carbon offset is a simple premise: if you take a cross-country flight and are responsible for a half ton of carbon emissions, spend a few dollars to fund the growth of a half ton worth of carbon in the form of a forest. A fossil fuel company can do the same: buy offsets to write off emissions and call it green. But is this just another form of greenwashing? Do carbon offsets bring us closer to carbon-neutrality?

Featuring Kaarsten Turner Dalby, Heather Furman, Charlie Stabolepszy, Barbara Haya, Jim Shallow, and Adeniyi Asiyanbi.

Sign up for the Outside/In newsletter! Every two weeks we’ll send you episode extras, occasional call-outs to participate in our episodes, and our reading list.

Just one part of the methodology of carbon accounting with the Nature Conservancy in Vermont. Photo credit Sam Evans-Brown.

Just one part of the methodology of carbon accounting with the Nature Conservancy in Vermont. Photo credit Sam Evans-Brown.


Credits

Outside/In was produced this week by Sam Evans-Brown with Taylor Quimby and Justine Paradis.

Erika Janik is our executive producer.

Our theme music is by Breakmaster Cylinder.

Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions.

Special thanks to Dave Publicover, Karin Bothwell, Stuart Hale, Mark Ducey, John Gunn, Charles Levesque, Mindy Crandell, Bill Keeton, Erik Kingsley, Tom Pugh, Mariko Yamasake, Fiona Jevon and Lauren Gifford. 

If you’ve got a question for our Ask Sam hotline, give us a call! We’re always looking for rabbit holes to dive down into. Leave us a voicemail at: 1-844-GO-OTTER (844-466-8837). Don’t forget to leave a number so we can call you back.


Audio Transcript

Note: Episodes of Outside/In are made as pieces of audio, and some context and nuance may be lost on the page. Transcripts are generated using a combination of speech recognition software and human transcribers, and may contain errors.

Sam Evans-Brown: Hello Outside/ In listeners, this is Sam Evans-Brown. Officially, totally back from paternity leave now.

Justine Paradis: Totally back!?

Sam Evans-Brown: I mean, I do have double the number of children at home as I had previously, so I would say my attention is divided. But I'm here in the studio with producer Taylor Quimby and Justine Paradise, mostly because it's lonely in the pandemic times and I would like someone to talk to. Just kidding. Uh, I have you here because this episode will require a bit of talking it out. Some discussions of moral quandaries. Okay.

Sam Evans-Brown: So, so why don't, can we just start with a, with a quick introduction and sort of like what it says on your business card?

Kirsten Turner Dolby: Sure. Am I supposed to know what's on my business card?

Sam Evans-Brown: I mean, someone's someone's --

Kirsten Turner Dolby: Can I pull it out?

Sam Evans-Brown: So that is Kirsten Turner Dolby. Kirsten was a literature major as an undergrad, and she started out, very predictably, working for environment and conservation nonprofits.

Justine Paradis: Do you mean that predictably literature majors often go into the environment nonprofits?

Sam Evans-Brown: Well, I mean, if they're people that I interview.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: It was really, I think, because I wanted to be Edward Abbey.

Taylor Quimby: Is he the Monkey Wrench Guy? The guy who wrote Monkey Wrench?

Justine Paradis: Yes.

Sam Evans-Brown: Right. Monkey Wrench Gang, Desert Solitaire. He's like. He was like, 60s and 70s decades environmental writer.

Justine Paradis: So how did she want to be him? Like, be a writer. Be a park ranger?

Sam Evans-Brown: I, I didn't ask that question. I assume that it's just the way that everyone who reads Desert Solitaire wants to go out and, like, live in a national park for a year. But working for environmental NGOs wound up being not that.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: Fundraising was exhausting, to be honest.

Sam Evans-Brown: She got kind of burnt out with the grind of just like going after grants and donations, which is why she went to grad school. She got a master's in forestry, got an MBA and started working in this other world of big money timber investments.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: And I am the senior vice president for the Forest Land Group, which is what is known in the sector as a timberland investment management organization.

Sam Evans-Brown: Or TIMO for short.

Taylor Quimby: What!?

Sam Evans-Brown: TIMOs... so they're kind of like a private equity fund, which do you know what that means?

Taylor Quimby: Uh, it sounds banky.

Sam Evans-Brown: I had to Google this because I had heard the phrase, but, like, didn't quite actually grok it. Um, private equity funds are they tend to be either for really, really rich people or like endowments or pension funds. There's like a minimum floor that's usually like a couple hundred thousand dollars if you want to put your money into one. Um, and a TIMO is like that, but for the woods.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: The difference is that some private equity funds might invest in real estate. We invest exclusively in timberland, so we buy large tracts of land and we manage them for our investors.

Taylor Quimby: Weird.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: It's super niche and it's super boutique.

Sam Evans-Brown: TIMOs make money off the value of the timber. They don't necessarily cut it themselves, though they can and do sometimes. But sometimes they're just buying and holding and reselling land based on the presumption that someone will cut the trees. So the question one might ask is, how does someone who wanted to be Edward Abbey wind up working for a TIMO?

Sam Evans-Brown: How much are you sort of mission driven here? How much is it? How much are you about the conservation part of this work?

Kirsten Turner Dolby: Yeah. So my heart is absolutely mission driven, but I acknowledge that I am in a capital market. And so where I have an opportunity to get really creative about ways to merge and blend those two worlds and make money while doing good, that's when I feel like a professional basketball player.

Justine Paradis: Whoa.

Sam Evans-Brown: She says that because starting back in 2012, they started selling something else out of their forests. Kirsten leads the Forest Land Group's carbon offset projects. They take huge tracts of forests, often thousands of acres, that have been purchased based on the value of the trees on that land if you were to cut them down. And then she gets paid to sign a very complicated promise that they won't get cut down, or at least that some of them won't get cut down. And that's something that in her industry gets her a little bit of side eye.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: It even happens with us internally as a company. You know, we have, we have meetings and we and Kirsten takes the mic to talk about the offset projects. And, you know, the boys get pissed.

Sam Evans-Brown: Right. Eye rolls in the back of the room.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: Oh, God. Yeah. And I'm like, okay, but, but PS our carbon program generated more than our timber harvesting program in 2017, right. So all you all need to sit down and hear what we're talking about when we say we're not going to cut those trees. It scares the crap out of them.

Justine Paradis: She's fun.

Sam Evans-Brown: So who pays for this? Who is paying Kirsten to keep these trees standing? In her specific case, they are selling credits that companies regulated by California's carbon cap and trade law can buy. The companies that buy these offsets that fund the saving of trees are fossil fuel companies. They're like, you know, coal or gas burning electric utilities. And Kirsten loves that fact.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: There's something about watching the man have to write a check that, you know, that's making something good happen.

Sam Evans-Brown: Yeah.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: That just you kind of go, "Yeaaah."

Sam Evans-Brown: That's -- that’s a slam dunk.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: "Right on."

Sam Evans-Brown: So what do you all know about offsets?

Taylor Quimby: Oh well so much um (laughs).

Justine Paradis: Where to begin!

Taylor Quimby: Let's see...

Justine Paradis: I feel like I have like a vague sense that, like, it's just like, not real.

Sam Evans-Brown: Thaaaaat's the sentiment I was fishing for. Yes.

Justine Paradis: That. Yeah. That. It's sort of a scam. And it's a way for like BP to be like, we're carbon neutral and it's like, are you?

Sam Evans-Brown: This is where the somber Outside/In music slowly rises in the background.

Justine Paradis: Always with the somber theme these days.

Sam Evans-Brown: But no, no, I refuse to go with the somber theme. We are going to spend this episode talking about carbon offsets. And yes, they are problematic, but by God, not every episode in 2020 needs a somber theme music.

Justine Paradis: We need a break from the somber theme.

Taylor Quimby: Cue the optimistic, jangly music.

Sam Evans-Brown: This is Outside/In, a show about the natural world and how we use it. I'm Sam Evans-brown. A carbon offset is a simple premise. A ton of carbon dioxide is a ton of carbon dioxide. So if you can reduce a ton for cheaper than I can, why not let me pay you to do it for me? But if you have a vague sense that there's something fishy about this idea you're not wrong. So what's the deal with carbon offsets? Do they work or are they worthless?

Justine Paradis: The carbon offset is a simple present. A great idea for Christmas. (Laughs)

Sam Evans-Brown: Okay. All right. Can we just talk about, like, your your working understanding of a carbon offset, like, where have you in your everyday life encountered carbon offsetting?

Justine Paradis: I'm not sure I have... i'm wondering if I've ever, like, encountered it, like when I'm buying a plane ticket or something where like, you have the option to, like, offset your carbon.

Sam Evans-Brown: That's exactly what I was gonna say, that a lot of airlines, there's like a button on the website where you can be, like, offset the carbon of this flight.

Taylor Quimby: Really? Is that something? I would, I would have paid more for? Like it would --

Sam Evans-Brown: Yeah I mean, it would, it would be like less than ten bucks for almost any domestic flight. Like, like if you want to offset all of your carbon dioxide for a year of your life, it would be under $200. And and the the sort of uncharitable analysis that people often roll out about, about them is that they're like the indulgences that the Catholic Church sold, you know, the which were these things like, oh, you can sin in advance because you bought this piece of paper that says it's the equivalent of saying, like a thousand "ave Marias." The more charitable way of describing them is that either through regulation or through voluntary donations, that it's a way of starting with the low hanging fruit. Right? Like, like it's really expensive -- like we don't even really know how to, uh, get fossil fuels out of flying an airplane across the Atlantic. But we do know how to plant trees and you know, if the atmosphere doesn't care about a ton of carbon, why not start with the cheap one? And I will say this is mostly about trees. Either planting them or not cutting them. In the last five years it's been like 42% of all carbon offsets sold around the world go for trees. So that's mostly what I'll be talking about today.

Taylor Quimby: Well, what I mean, just just very briefly, like, what kind of other possible ways could you offset emissions?

Sam Evans-Brown: Oh, there's a million. There's a million. So actually the, the most common one in the beginning, in the early days was capturing fugitive emissions. So like catching refrigerants before they leak, because refrigerants are really powerful greenhouse gases or like, you know, converting cow manure into fuel instead of letting it just turn into methane and float into the atmosphere or -- and there's literally like, there's literally hundreds of protocols for different types of offsets.

Jim Shallow: How far are we going, Charlie?

Charlie Sobolewski: Probably half a mile, I can tell you almost exactly.

Sam Evans-Brown: But because we're mostly talking about trees, that's why we're going to start in the woods at the birth of a carbon credit.

Justine Paradis: With an acorn.

Sam Evans-Brown: Actually, this is like the birth of more like 240,000 carbon credits.

Charlie Sobolewski: That's a hummingbird there yeah.

Sam Evans-Brown: So about a year and a half ago, I visited a forest in northern Vermont that is currently owned by the largest conservation organization in the United States, The Nature Conservancy. And Heather Furman is the state director.

Heather Fuhrman: Yeah so we are on the 5500 acre Burnt Mountain property. The Nature Conservancy purchased this property together with Vermont Land Trust over 20 years ago.

Sam Evans-Brown: Actually, this was part of a huge land purchase. Tens of thousands of acres from this big timber company. And over the years, they've been selling off small pieces of this, subject to conservation easements, which are restrictions that say you're not allowed to build anything on this land, but you are still allowed to harvest the trees if you do it in a sustainable way. But this tract that we are walking on, they decided to do something else. They're going to make it something called a forever wild preserve, which is a place where you can hunt and you can fish, but there will be no logging allowed. And the reason for that is that the carbon in the trees will have been sold already.

Heather Fuhrman: We anticipate that we will see about $2 million in carbon revenue over the lifetime of this project, and we will be able to invest that money back into more forest land conservation. So it's a great new revenue stream for doing conservation in Vermont.

Taylor Quimby: And it's just all of this is so weird. It reminds me of like, you know, the sort of banking and lending industry in which, like, I just don't understand because these sort of non tangible things are just trading back and forth for money, that I don't understand how it's being made.

Sam Evans-Brown: Well, to try to make this a little more concrete, I want to dwell for a second on the details of what it takes to sell a ton of carbon.

Charlie Sobolewski: We're going to have to start bushwhacking now, a little over a 10th of a mile...

Sam Evans-Brown: Because when I was there, the Nature Conservancy was doing this, this very scientific initial stock assessment. They had hired this gentleman named Charlie Sobolewski, whose job was to measure how much carbon was in that forest. And we were walking to the first of 200 randomly assigned GPS points.

Charlie Sobolewski: I'm within three feet of what the GPS is showing me, but it's a handheld...

Sam Evans-Brown: When we got there, he pounded this stake into the ground and starts by measuring every tree that was in a 30 foot radius from that stake.

Charlie Sobolewski: It's 30.4ft, it's a 15th acre. I'm measuring everything...

Sam Evans-Brown: Every tree that's more than 15ft tall, alive or dead. And let's remember why this is like trees when they photosynthesize they pull CO2 out of the air, they fuze it with water from their roots that makes sugars, and they turn that into cellulose. And every molecule of cellulose has six carbon atoms in it, which is locked up, pulled out of the atmosphere. So even dead trees, you know, even bushes in the understory, all of those represent carbon that isn't out in the atmosphere warming the planet. And so they go out into the woods with this big binder full of methodologies to account for all that carbon.

Sam Evans-Brown: Methodology of blowdowns, methodology for trees that are missing their bark, methodology for trees forked below 4.5ft, double forked...

Taylor Quimby: Man binders full of carbon.

Justine Paradis: I know! (Laughs). So wait, wait, hold on a second. But when you cut down a tree, like if you burn it, the carbon would go back into the atmosphere. But let's say like some of the wood turns into, like a beautiful sea chest, you know, that you keep your linens in...

Sam Evans-Brown: Yeah. You can you can still log in a forest that has had credits sold out of it, as long as more carbon is stored than like the baseline. And if you do cut the trees, you do get credit for the carbon stored in lumber and sea chests and and even some credit for paper products that get thrown out and wind up in the landfill because that still doesn't immediately go back into the atmosphere.

Taylor Quimby: Okay, but so say you're looking at this plot of trees, like what happens if you sell the property?

Sam Evans-Brown: The new owner has to buy the commitment to save the carbon, which runs for decades, and you can suffer financial penalties from the regulators if you do cut the trees. But for sure, if you're not planning on selling, it's way easier. Which is why, like indigenous nations do these forest projects and organizations like The Nature Conservancy, which is actually setting aside an endowment in part to keep the carbon monitoring going on this property.

Heather Fuhrman: So our total endowment that we'll need to manage this property long term is closer on the order of half $1 million.

Sam Evans-Brown: And like the impression that you get while while watching this gargantuan undertaking is that it's all very precise.

Charlie Sobolewski: Every tree is measured as precise as we can.

Sam Evans-Brown: No biltmore sticks on a...

Charlie Sobolewski: No biltmore sticks. No. Lasers!

Sam Evans-Brown: Biltmore sticks is a little, it's a little forestry joke.

Justine Paradis: What's a Biltmore stick?

Taylor Quimby: Yeah. What's a Biltmore stick?

Sam Evans-Brown: Biltmore sticks are these things that they used to be on the bottoms of ax handles? And so you stand, like, away from a tree and you hold up the ax and, like, squint at it and look at the tree, and it lets you estimate how much wood is in the tree.

Taylor Quimby: I gotta say, forestry jokes don't land well with forestry people. I'm gonna be sure to try that one though, with some other folks and see how it does.

Justine Paradis: There's no biltmore stick! (Laughs).

Sam Evans-Brown: So having witnessed this process, I think that the Nature Conservancy can credibly claim to have documented how many tons of carbon are in that forest that they own with as much scientific rigor as we currently know how to bring to bear. And what happens next is they submit all these measurements to an independent certifier, which issues them the credits, and then they have to find a buyer for every ton of carbon that's on the land above and beyond. What would be there if they were to sell this property to someone else, like they're selling the promise to do nothing and just let the trees soak up the carbon.

Taylor Quimby: Okay

Sam Evans-Brown: So that's 240,000 carbon credits. That's how much they will generate over the life of this project.

Taylor Quimby: Yeah.

Justine Paradis: How much is like a flight?

Sam Evans-Brown: Uh, that's an excellent question.

Justine Paradis: Like a cross country flight?

Sam Evans-Brown: I think it's I think it's like less than one, like a half ton per person. So. So it's like, you know, a little less than 200 tons for the whole plane.

Taylor Quimby: And just to think, like, how many thousands of flights there are every day just in the US.

Sam Evans-Brown: Yeah, yeah. No, I actually googled this. So so the FAA says that at peak travel times, there are more than 5000 planes in the air over the United States simultaneously.

Taylor Quimby: So over many decades, this forest accumulates like less than a day's worth of carbon emissions from the airline industry.

Sam Evans-Brown: When you say it like that, Taylor, it doesn't sound very impressive. You should not write marketing materials for The Nature Conservancy on their carbon offset projects. I'm just going to throw that out there.

Taylor Quimby: I don't think they'll hire me.

Sam Evans-Brown: So here's the question. Is this cool? Like, is this all right? Is it cool to sell off each of these credits to someone who gets to either claim, like the social or actual regulatory license to emit a ton of carbon?

Taylor Quimby: Can I jump in and ask a question because like, doesn't it only matter if, hypothetically, the other option was that that forest was going to get cut down and used for timber and the carbon, you know what I mean? Like, like it's you're only actually storing carbon if it wasn't going to get stored.

Sam Evans-Brown: You are asking the exact right question. And we'll talk about that after a break.

Taylor Quimby: After a break. I'm talking about right now!

Justine Paradis: We'll be here, Sam.

Sam Evans-Brown: I'd like to introduce you to Barbara Haya. So Barbara is a researcher at Berkeley, and she is a very prominent critic of carbon offsets.

Barbara Haya: Most forest land owners are getting paid to manage the lands the way that they have for many years, without needing to change their forest management practice.

Sam Evans-Brown: So I'm going to teach you a term. Additionality. Which is what you were just sort of grasping at there. Taylor. So to define that term, we're going to dodge out of forests for a second and talk about a different kind of carbon offset. Barbara got her PhD by going to India and looking at...

Barbara Haya: One promising renewable energy technology. And that is the generation of electricity and steam from sugarcane waste.

Sam Evans-Brown: So sugarcane after it's harvested, it's and this is actually true of a lot of crops there's like leftover stuff in the field, like the stalks of sugarcane plants. And a lot of times that's just piled up and burned out in the open air. And that's like a huge part of why air quality is sometimes terrible in parts of India. Really dramatic impacts both on human health and climate change. And so if you were to gather up those stalks and instead of just burning them in a pile, burn them in like a modern, efficient electricity plant with like pollution controls, that would be better for both climate and for people's lungs.

Barbara Haya: Exactly. And this was a technology that the Indian government really was supporting.

Sam Evans-Brown: But it takes a lot of capital to build a power plant. And like burning stalks in the field is essentially free. So under the Kyoto Protocol, which was that first somewhat famous international climate agreement, there was something called the Clean Development Mechanism. It was the first carbon offsets scheme, and it was a way for rich governments to send money to poor governments in order to cut carbon emissions. And a bunch of that money was going to these, these, you know, crop residue electricity plants.

Barbara Haya: But in this early research, I started finding a real scam. In these early interviews with sugar factory owners they would say something very curious.

Sam Evans-Brown: Barbara would ask them, why are you building this facility? And they would say, well, because it's good business. It makes us money! Which is not what offsets are supposed to do. These offsets were supposed to be paying for projects that would not have happened otherwise without the offset money. Because remember, in exchange for the offsets, some rich country somewhere was claiming the right to run their coal plants for longer. And there was this financial test meant to measure if these power plants deserve the subsidy. But...

Barbara Haya: So I spoke with a consultant in India who worked with wind power developers, and he said that he has at times produced two different balance sheets for the same project. One balance sheet he sent to the bank showing that the project is cost effective on its own. And then the other one that he sent to the UN as an offset project, showing that the project is not cost effective on its own and it needed the offset income to be built.

Sam Evans-Brown: (Laughs). Right. So it's almost like some consultant came along and was like "weren't you aware that you could have gotten paid?" And they're like, "oh my gosh, let's get paid."

Barbara Haya: Exactly.

Taylor Quimby: So they were building new, new power plants --

Sam Evans-Brown: -- yes. That they were already planning to build. But when they learned that they could also get paid for carbon credits, they signed up to get carbon credits as well. And that's additionality. Is this something that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for carbon credits?

Sam Evans-Brown: So let's just ask ourselves something. The Nature Conservancy back in Vermont, they bought this property 20 years prior to the decision to sell the offsets. They are a conservation organization. Do we really think they were going to cut down all the trees on the property as if they were like a lumber company?

Justine Paradis: Well, probably not like cut them all down, but like, isn't there like logging that happens in places that are conserved?

Sam Evans-Brown: Yes. And so that's like one thing that you could point to. You could point to the fact that the other pieces of this property have been sold with easements that say you can only do sustainable timber harvesting. And so it's like that could be the baseline. But that's not how the carbon credits work. The carbon credits work, as if you were to sell it to somebody who would just log like a normal lumber company, not like the Nature Conservancy Lumber Company, LLC.

Justine Paradis: Gotcha.

Sam Evans-Brown: I'm going to play you some tape. I'm going to play you this tape because I asked this question about additionality to Heather Furman, the state director of the Nature Conservancy in Vermont. And I, before playing it, I just want to cut her a little bit of slack in advance, because this is a little bit of a gotcha type question.

Sam Evans-Brown: Would would this forever wild project have happened if it weren't for the revenue from the carbon markets?

Heather Fuhrman: Yeah. Yeah. I think based on what we learned about the ecology of this place and the natural communities here, our decision to own and manage this as a forever wild property, um, was kind of our first and foremost decision. Carbon was just, uh, an opportunity that we saw to to do even more. And so it was kind of too good to pass up.

Sam Evans-Brown: Doesn't that then beg a question of, uh, does, you know, isn't this kind of like, double dipping? If you were going to do this anyway, why get paid as well?

Heather Fuhrman: Uh, I don't really know how to answer that question. I don't --

Jim Shallow: -- think about the strategy.

Charlie Sobolewski: -- I don't think about it --

Sam Evans-Brown: So what you're hearing here is a bunch of people jumping in to answer my question, and there's a guy on that trip named Jim Shallow, who is the Nature Conservancy employee who actually developed the whole carbon offset project and who actually has studied the offset rules. And so this is why this is kind of a gotcha situation. Like Heather wasn't, she wasn't the primary on this project, and she was just there because the press had come. So she wasn't prepared to have the philosophical debate about the fine points of offsetting. So Jim Shallow, though, was and that's why he jumps in.

Jim Shallow: And so think about it. You know, Forever Wild is a management strategy, much like, uh, the other carbon projects that you'll see around our improved forest management is what they call it. So it tends to be management that maybe is less intensive than you would do under a, you know, a full maximization of the timber value on the property. So I would say no, we're, we're actually by going -- our making the decision to do Forever Wild is creating a carbon opportunity that's additional carbon that wouldn't be there if some other buyer purchased this property.

Justine Paradis: I mean, I also like sympathize. It's like, okay, we were going to do this anyway. We're a conservation organization and most of them are like trying to, you know, fight what they consider to be the good fight. And it's like, take this opportunity to like get some revenue if you can.

Taylor Quimby: Right. And then take that money and put it into another project that maybe really wouldn't have existed right otherwise. You know, maybe you can buy another land that previously just wasn't in conservation at all.

Sam Evans-Brown: Okay, so I'm playing this tape because it just shows how hard it is to know, like we weren't in the room when the Nature Conservancy made this decision. We kind of just have to take them at their word when they say, they wouldn't have done this if it weren't for the money that the carbon offsets make available. But this debate about additionality is precisely why the offset certifiers have tried to get around the problem. They've said in recent years, okay, we're never going to be able to figure out which of these projects actually needed that extra bit of money and which didn't. So we're going to try to do this like the way an insurance company would figure this all out. Like an insurance company doesn't know who's going to get into a car accident, but they know the overall risk, so they just try to make everything expensive enough to cover all the wrecks. And that's what the carbon offsets have tried to do as well. Here's Barbara Haya again.

Barbara Haya: They don't require project by project additionality testing. Instead, what they aim to do is to identify whole categories of projects that are not likely to have gone forward on their own and are, as a category, considered additional, and then estimating emissions reductions conservatively from each of those projects.

Sam Evans-Brown: So what they do now is they have these like fudge factors. And so let me give you an example. Uh, forest fires. Right? Real problem if your whole plan for reducing emissions is to store carbon in forests. Well, so California has one of these offset protocols and they require every project to take a bunch of their credits and set them aside as like a buffer, so that if a bunch of the trees burn down or are killed by insects or drought, or are logged illegally, and all these things collectively are called reversals, you've got this buffer pool set aside to just like account for that. There's a similar effect called leakage, which is okay, say say we don't cut down all these trees in this one spot in Vermont. There's still demand for like two by fours to build houses. Does it mean that us not cutting down trees right here just means that trees will get cut down somewhere else?

Justine Paradis: This just sounds like it sounds like the carbon sequestration or logging version of NIMBY or something.

Sam Evans-Brown: And again, so what the offsets do is they just take like a discount. They like take a percentage right off the top, like okay, you have X number of tons of carbon in your forest, but like 20% of that is going towards this like leakage discount. And this is where this debate is on carbon offsets. Right now it's like these technocratic details, and there are these incredibly fierce debates about what percentage the leakage should be or how big the buffer pool should be, and what it all really amounts to is just uncertainty. We have this like very precise accounting of like how many trees are in this one forest that gives this illusion that we know, you know, how many tons of carbon we're saving. But really like those trees are still attached to, you know, like the rest of the world.

Barbara Haya: That's the core challenge of offsets, right? Is that what you're doing with an offset program is you're trading known emissions, right? We know how to estimate the emissions from a country: how much is being burned in cars and and power plants. It's much harder to estimate emissions reductions because reductions have to be measured against a counterfactual scenario that never happened. I mean, it's impossible to know.

Sam Evans-Brown: To me, to me, offsets are this like perfect distillation of what happens when an economist looks at climate change as a challenge? They're like, they're like, oh, every ton of greenhouse gas emissions influences the atmosphere in the same way. And I see what this is. It's a commodity and we can price it and we can trade it. It's very like macroeconomics 101.

Justine Paradis: If we just make it a market, then it will solve it.

Sam Evans-Brown: It's like the whole carbon offset world is just enthralled by the elegance of that basic idea. So they've created this whole complicated measurement edifice with formulas and fudge factors that just can't live up to the, like, textbook version of the theory.

Taylor Quimby: Yeah, yeah.

Sam Evans-Brown: But there's a part of me that just wants to ask about all this, like, who cares, right? Like, these offsets are essentially a subsidy, but all subsidies have a lot of these problems. Like think about the mortgage income tax deduction. That's claimed by a lot of people who still would have bought a house. But the reason that we care with a carbon offset is that it's like an indulgence, like it's supposed to represent one ton of carbon, like one sin. And we don't like the idea that it might not.

Justine Paradis: Well, because greenwashing, the idea that you can sort of claim if people are claiming things that are sort of transparently not true, that also just creates a world in which there's a lot of, um, distrust. And I don't like that world.

Taylor Quimby: I -- like part of me just thinks, like, maybe this is a good idea in theory, but in practice, when you're actually trying to create a system like it just doesn't work. And given the urgency of climate change, any waste of time is like bad and deleterious because we need to be doing effective things immediately.

Sam Evans-Brown: And these are two, I think, very fertile areas to criticize carbon offsets.

Sam Evans-Brown: Okay, let's take a little imaginary radio trip to a place in eastern Nigeria called the Cross River State. It's the part of the country that has most of its rainforest. I learned about the Cross River state from Adeniyi Asiyanbi, who's currently at the Department of Geography at the University of Calgary, and he told me that while environmental groups focus on the biodiversity of the rainforest in Cross River, it's also full of people. This forested Nigerian state that's about the size of New Hampshire has around double the population of New Hampshire.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: In fact, some would argue that it's one of the most diverse areas in terms of, you know, languages and dialects, you know, in the whole of West Africa, if not Africa. So you move from one village to the other and you find people speaking languages that they wouldn't be able to, you know, um, to, to interact.

Sam Evans-Brown: Adeniyi says back in the 70s and 80s, international environmental NGOs were worried about deforestation in Cross River and the survival of the critically endangered Cross River gorilla, which meant when the idea of carbon offsets started to come into vogue toward the end of the 90s Cross River was immediately a place that environmentalists thought of. And specifically, it attracted the attention of a particularly fraught type of offsetting called Red Plus. It's this program developed by the United Nations that lets countries trade offset money for preserving forests, mostly tropical rainforests. And it's how carbon credits work in the Paris Accords, because it's government to government, it has occasionally been associated with government abuses. Part of the program is something called a readiness period, where the government shows that it's building the capacity to do these complicated carbon offset projects. And in Cross River state, as part of that readiness phase, the governor imposed a total moratorium on logging, which was enforced by this anti-deforestation task force.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: Composed of conservation guys working alongside the military. They had the Navy also who were sort of patrolling the waterways. So you had this group of actors who were sort of enforcing the ban in the forest and essentially stopping people from doing anything at all in the forest.

Sam Evans-Brown: But the enforcement was really spotty. Adeniyi documented how locals who live in the forest were prohibited not just from cutting trees, but also gathering, you know, small like non-timber resources out of the forest. But meanwhile, the rate of deforestation actually increased during the logging ban, mostly because of illegal logging done by multinational companies that own palm oil plantations.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: The industrial actors were clearing the forest are often left off in the discourse, while local communities are easily picked upon as scapegoats.

Justine Paradis: Ah sounds familiar.

Sam Evans-Brown: After ten years of working on Red Plus, there are just a handful of carbon offset projects in the state. So Adeniyi has two critiques of the general idea of carbon offsetting. The first is that the basic concept that one ton of carbon is being traded for another ton, has led to this whole complicated system of measurement and formulas and consultants that almost guarantee that these projects will be small and not actually up to the job of halting deforestation.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: Trying to overcome all of these complexities, you know, leakage, you know, permanence, additionality, verification. So you're trying to go around all of those almost impossible complexities in order to demonstrate that carbon is being saved when you could very easily, you know, just stop the carbon at source, you know.

Taylor Quimby: Stop that carbon at the source. That's what I'm talking about.

Sam Evans-Brown: Adeniyi's second main critique is that it gives people and institutions and companies an out, an excuse to not be working on the harder problems like stopping the burning of fossil fuels.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: Carbon offsetting is worse than doing nothing. You know, you know that it worsens things than they would otherwise have been. Because when you give yourself the impression that you're actually addressing climate change, you know, um, when you do that, you're basically telling yourself that you're doing something and you don't need to take other kind of actions that would have, you know, um, reduce emissions essentially. So only to find that down the line that what you thought you were doing was just, you know, was empty and hollow.

Sam Evans-Brown: I think in particular, you can see this when it comes to carbon offsets that are used as substitutes for cutting emissions to comply with laws or treaties or other regulatory programs. So, like California allows offsets to substitute for cutting emissions under their cap and trade law, and the Kyoto Protocol created offsets to make it easier for countries to meet their treaty obligations. And over and over and over, offsetting is asked to be included in these programs by the people that are doing the emitting -- the countries or companies that have high carbon emissions.

Adeniyi Asiyanbi: If climate change is what you're concerned about, then don't do offsets. Do something more serious about it. If climate change is what you're concerned about, don't do offsetting. Do something else.

Sam Evans-Brown: If climate change is what you're concerned about don't do offsetting. Do something else.

Sam Evans-Brown: But like, you know, there's something to me that about that conclusion that doesn't sit quite right. You know, after having been out on walking that property with the Nature Conservancy because like when you zoom down that, that close to an individual project, it does seem like they're doing something, you know, like the Nature Conservancy got that money and they are conservation group, and they're probably going to use it to do some more conservation. And you know, and I also got that from Kirsten Turner Dolby who again works selling carbon for the TIMO, the Forest Land Group. They're in the business of buying these trees to cut them down.

Kirsten Turner Dolby: People checking and double checking make you do things better. They just do. I mean, without a doubt. You may say, you may greenwash it and say, oh, “We are managing this land sustainably. We -- our trees are growing -- we cut less than growth.” Okay, well guess what? We're going to have auditors come out every time you want to sell that offset that one metric equivalent tonne of carbon to an emitter, and make damn sure that that really is one metric tonne of carbon and you're going to do it differently. You just are. You just are going to make different decisions.

Sam Evans-Brown: And so it's like maybe we can't be sure given like the uncertainties of a globalized market, like exactly how much each project is keeping out of the atmosphere. But it does feel to me like it's better than nothing. Like while the accounting for an offset is is obviously imperfect, that like the real problem is this using of them as, as an indulgence and and using them to try to avoid having to do the hard stuff.

Justine Paradis: I do, I do just want to note that we are focusing on kind of the carbon credit aspect of forests here, but obviously the forest has all of these other benefits too, like intangibles like habitat for birds or or insects or lack of erosion because the tree roots are holding it in or, you know, all of these other things that forests do just by being themselves. So as far as conservation, I'm really not, in this case, not. I don't have a problem with it at all. That's not what we're like, what's giving me pause here. It's really the PR campaign about it.

Sam Evans-Brown: Well, and like part of the reason that I think we will need all of this is, is because Barbara Haya, the oft cited critic of offsetting, is helping the University of California System in their effort to reach carbon neutrality by 2025. And to meet that goal, they're starting by doing everything they can on their campus, like energy efficiency and electrifying things and building new renewable energy on and off site. But the UC system also opted to buy some offsets when it comes to the emissions they can't eliminate five years down the line, and Barbara is helping them to buy the best offsets possible.

Barbara Haya: Right. So, um, yeah, we're we at the UC system are not claiming to solve tropical deforestation.

Sam Evans-Brown: And essentially what they're doing is like they're doing their own due diligence, like they're buying credits only when they personally have followed up with the individual project and feel that they have verified it's a high quality offset, and they're also creating their own projects.

Barbara Haya: What we did was we released a request for ideas UC wide to faculty, staff, students, um, for ideas for projects that UC can support that reduces emissions or removes carbon from the atmosphere. And we got a wonderful, wonderful set of, um, more than 80 projects back. And we provided pilot awards to 12 of them.

Sam Evans-Brown: So offsets are a flawed tool, but also in a way, they're kind of the only tool we've got.

Sam Evans-Brown: Outside/In was produced this week by me, Sam Evans-Brown, with help from Taylor Quimby and Justine Paradise. Erica Janik is our executive producer. Maureen McMurray is director of Intraoffice Indulgence Issuance. Thank you to all of the experts who talked to me to explain forest carbon dynamics and carbon crediting rules David Publicover, Karen Bothwell, Stuart Hale, Mark Ducey, John Gunn, Charles Levesque, Mindy Crandall, Bill Keaton, Eric Kingsley, Tom Pugh, Mariko Yamasaki, Fiona Jevin, and Loren Gifford. Reminder we are now accepting votes for our first selection for the Outside/In Book Club. You can vote on our Facebook page. That's the closed group that you have to ask for permission to join. Or you can subscribe to our newsletter, which will have a link to the poll in it. You can do that at outsideinradio.org Music. In this episode by Blue Dot Sessions, our theme music was made by Breakmaster Cylinder. Outside/In is a production of New Hampshire Public Radio.


Fortress Conservation

Throughout the 20th century, conservationists and environmentalists have looked to protect wildlife and biodiversity through the creation of parks and other forms of exclusionary wildlife zones. Zones that seek to preserve spaces devoid of human impact - or to create them, by displacing indigenous and poor people who already live there. Today, some academics call this strategy by a pejorative name: Fortress conservation.

In this episode, we look at medieval forest law, the early days of Yellowstone National Park, and spreading concern over how conservation efforts are enacted and enforced around the world.

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