Rather belatedly, after two earlier blog posts, I’d like to devote some time to explaining the purpose of Waypoints.
The tone of this particular blog is light-hearted, but hopefully the underlying message – that we all benefit from occasionally escaping from our silos to take in the big picture – will resonate with readers. Navigating the contours of climate change, and the development landscape more broadly, is vital if we are to understand the solutions at our disposal.
As anyone working in climate change will testify, what might be termed the ‘climate landscape’ is a complex terrain – expansive and yet poorly mapped, with a few prominent landmarks (for instance, the CIF, NDCs and the IPCC ARs) separated by endless plains of alphabetised micro-features (the likes of BURs, CPEIRs, FRELs and HWPs).
Active geological uplifting (CBIT, CORSIA, the GCF, ITMOs and LDN come to mind) and rapid sinking into the mantle (the CDM and JI being obvious, if unfortunate, examples) ensure the landscape is dynamic, constantly being redrawn. Geological strata testify to old initiatives – AIJ, FVA and their ilk – that have been buried and largely forgotten.
The borders with other landscapes – those of energy, forestry, transport, industry, finance and others – are porous and open to plenty of cross-border traffic. Cultural cross-fertilization is the norm. Seismic shifts are known (one as recently as 1 June) but most change is incremental: the direction of change is fairly clear but the route taken can be bewilderingly meandering. Outside forces are just as important in shaping the landscape as any internal dynamics.
The climate landscape is populated by tribes, mostly friendly but proud of their own traditions and languages. The four largest are the Scientists, the Modellers, the Negotiators and the Practitioners, all sadly afflicted by the same schism between Adapters and Mitigators. Other groups can be encountered roaming the landscape – the Sectoralists, the Technologists, the Bankers, the Geohackers – searching for fertile ground upon which to pitch camp. Meanwhile, the Sceptics are busy chipping away at the landmarks, hoping to turn exciting topography into mundane peneplain.
This is the landscape that Waypoints hopes to explore.
My suspicion is that the vast majority of readers of this blog know a lot – A LOT – about one or two specific locales, are well aware that their locale adjoins neighbouring locales but are somewhat hazier on how those locales link to more distant locales.
And yet teleconnections abound in climate change: neighbouring – and even distant – locales matter. One cannot truly understand ETSs, for example, unless one understands inventories. And one cannot understand inventories unless one understands EFs, GWPs and the MRV process – ICA, FSV and the like. And that, in turn, prompts the need for a broader understanding of the emerging Transparency Framework under the Paris Agreement, which demands an understanding of the GST timeline, which…and so on.
Teleconnections can be conceptual or they can be very real: witness the increasing scrutiny of interactive effects between different climate policies, each of which may be well designed and well thought through in the context of its own specific locale but which, on a landscape level, can result in emergent, unforeseen impacts. Such antagonistic – and also potentially synergistic – effects are only going to become more common and more pronounced as the growing panoply of instruments, funds and policies share real estate.
Unmapped territory can be frustrating. There’s so much going on ‘out there’: witness the blizzard of e-mails that arrive daily, heralding new reports, new initiatives, new market happenings. But it’s so hard to geo-reference developments: not only to understand each new development in its own right but, crucially, to understand its significance in the broader landscape.
This is the role I foresee for Waypoints.
Systematic mapping of the entire landscape is unlikely and, anyway, even attempting it runs a very real risk of Red Queen-like exhaustion. Random search isn’t very satisfying. But something in between – a not-so-random ramble across the hills and valleys, taking in the scenery and the inhabitants – will, I hope, prove cathartic and useful to readers (and to me!).
I can’t promise that we’ll encounter dragons, mermaids or other legendary creatures (though perhaps a few black swans will make an appearance). But, like all rambles, the journey is likely to be as interesting as the destination, and the waypoints will provide an opportunity to soak up the ambience before heading onwards.