ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
I am a sustainability and education consultant. Previously I was a lecturer in sustainable energy. I was originally a mechanical engineer, and later a sociologist of environmental technology, focussing on institutional barriers to wind power. I have long been interested in what motivates people's behaviours in education and sustainability practices. I am now studying psychology to better understand the psychology of climate inaction and unsustainability. I hope to integrate this with an understanding of political and institutional barriers to sustainability. I am strongly committed to social justice. I occasionally write satirical verse, particularly about climate inaction.

The Ballad of Climate Change

by Andrea Bunting - 2010.

The people lived in sprawling beige
McMansions, all brand new,
decked out with shiny gadgets, while
their debts just grew and grew.

They slaved long days to meet the monthly
payments on this stuff.
Then off to do more shopping, for
they never had enough.

The shopping centre’s carpark was
indeed a splendid sight
with endless rows of outsized vans
all glistening in the light.

The stuff for sale was flaunted by
arrays of glaring lamps.
The aircon had to compensate
by ramping up the amps.

The stuff was made in far-off lands
with labour cheaply paid,
where coal plants spewed out acrid smoke,
the price of global trade.

McMansion folk who bought the stuff
knew nothing of this blight.
And retail therapy is just
a basic human right!

Their power surged from coal plants too
a long way out of town.
The gases spewed could not be seen
yet quietly hung around.

The prophets warned of havoc that
these gases would unleash.
“Shut down these plants to save us all!”,
the prophets tried to preach.

“Those greenies want to kill your job!”,
rang out the bosses’ cry.
“Consumption must not slow down just
because some kids might die.”

“We’re so damned smart, we’ll find a way
to fix it soon enough.
But jobs will go if folks like you
stop buying all our stuff.”

Some sellers hit upon a plan
to label stuff as “green”.
The coal plant owners joined the throng:
“Our coal can yet be clean!”

“For trillions we can simply pump
the gases underground.
They might leak out. Who gives a damn!
We won’t be still around!”

“The government must take a stand.
Green Power!” people cried.
The pollies reeled in horror, “No!
The market must decide!”

Emissions trading was their plan
with permits to pollute.
The planet might get hotter but
their gang would get the loot.

The prophets mocked the scheme, “It’s just
a tricky little game.
You’re selling our kids’ future. You
should hang your heads in shame!”

“Their future isn’t our concern!”
That was the pollies’ line.
“We must support big business for
we always toe the line.”

The years rolled by, the pollies flew
to talkfests far and wide.
On international action though
they never would decide.

The climate wouldn’t wait and so
the havoc once foretold
it wreaked upon the innocent,
the guilty, young and old.

The heatwaves spread, the oceans swelled,
so many lands were drowned.
The fires raged, the soil was parched,
crops withered in the ground.

The people sought out higher ground,
from countless boats they poured.
The walls went up. The guilty cried:
“Protect us from the horde!”

The guilty couldn’t save themselves
as war raged far and wide.
And then one day the peace returned,
All humankind had died.

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