Polish Jokes, Lightbulbs, and Planet Earth

I have to admit that, like many people, it was only recently that I woke up to the importance of global warming.

Before that, environmentalism was always someone else's issue. Something I was sympathetic towards, but in a vague kind of way. I recycled, poorly. I argued with my parents about their recycling habits (because, hey, what good is having parents if you can't act like a self-righteous teenager with them, even when you're a full-fledged adult?). But that was about the extent of it. I figured that there were good people who already cared about saving the environment. And I thought I should let them do that while I focused on my own issues-- human rights, democracy, that kind of stuff.

Like many people, I woke up one day about a year and a half ago, following a hurricane and a brilliant documentary, and found that somehow, suddenly, everyone seemed to finally admit that global warming was a real problem. My mom had suddenly bought a Prius. Because, she told me, it was the right thing to do. (The right thing to do!) Green websites were sprouting up like, um... weeds. Like everyone else, I too started to really pay attention.

But I realize now that my awakening of a year and a half ago was only half-baked. Because-- and here's the zinger-- I didn't change my behavior. Not a bit. Okay, maybe I spent more time talking with others about the issue. But I didn't even take the time to recycle more carefully than I had been doing before.

When I moved to London last year, I suddenly found myself surrounded by an incredibly environmentally aware group of people. Partly it was just the network I was dealing with. These were professionals and activists who focused on international poverty issues-- and as they were already tremendously conscientious about global issues, they were likely to be far more sympathetic to those related to the environment as well.

But it wasn't completely selection bias. While America has older and more developed environmental NGO networks, there are ways that environmentalism has worked its way into everyday life here that it hadn't in the US (at least by the time I'd left). For example, I went into a large supermarket chain to get my groceries a few months back. When I checked out, I noticed that in addition to giving me a "bag-for-life" (a very thick bag I could reuse indefinitely), they also threw an energy-saver lifebulb in my sack.

"That's not mine," I said to the check-out guy, confused. "It's a freebie," he replied. A promotion, obviously, but this stuff is in your face here in a way I'd not encountered before.


Or in the office of the non-profit where I worked downtown, there were constant reminders to be aware. The lightswitches for example.


Or the garbage area, which even had composting, despite some logistical challenges in that regard (and everyone in the building knew to take out the orange peels from the compost because they did something bad to its chemical make-up.).

Or the tub for "washing-up" with reminders on a sign above about saving water by washing things in batches rather than under a running faucet. (The tub is ubiquitous, it seems, in British households.).

Mind you, I've also been chided quite a few times, gently and not so gently, for my behavior. I stayed with a wonderfully generous (and very environmentally conscientious) woman my first few weeks here. One day, when coming back from dumping our recycling in the bin for the apartment complex, she came back with a furrowed brow on her face. "Paula," she said (and I could tell she was searching for the right words), "You haven't really gotten the hang of recycling yet, have you?" And she proceeded to explain that if I didn't wash my yogurt pots before putting them in the recycling, the food residue would basically contaminate the whole lot.

Other friends have had long arguments with me about my flying habits (which are mostly for work, but still pretty heavy).

And the thing is, I'm ashamed to say, even after all of this bombardment, my behavior still hasn't changed as much as it probably should have. I suppose I turn off power switches more often than I used to. I do wash the yogurt pots now before I put them in the recycling bin. (Ahem. Usually.). I have cloth bags for when I go to the grocery store, but honestly, I forget them far more times than I'd like to admit. I didn't have a car to begin with... but much more importantly (and definitely most confusing-- I'm going to dedicate a whole blog entry later to this issue), I haven't stopped flying.

Partly it's my frustration at what seems to be an overemphasis on individual solutions-- and our lack of willingness to tackle the bigger political questions at stake with climate change. But let's face it. That's not an excuse for my own laziness.

So where do Polish jokes fit in to this?

Growing up, my brother and I used to tell each other a whole series of them, which inevitably began with a line like, "How many Poles does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" They were never actually funny, but we amused ourselves with the thought that they should be funny, maybe, to someone, somewhere. And they were terribly politically incorrect, and in poor taste, but since we are technically mostly of Polish descent, we thought we had a free ticket to tell them.

Recently, though, I've been thinking we should invent a line of jokes along the same lines about human behavior more generally, and how ridiculously difficult it is to get people to change, even when they know it's the right thing to do. Particularly when they know it's the right thing to do.

Because the immediate impetus for my writing this post is a simple, depressing fact. I'm here, sitting at my desk, and that free energy saver lightbulb they gave me at the grocery store, over a month ago, is sitting right beside me, next to my laptop. Still in its box. Not screwed in.

How many (people of Polish descent, like me!) does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

How many times do people have to learn about an issue before they actually take action?

I don't know the punchline, but I'd venture it goes something like: A hell of a lot. An awful, painful, crazy, ridiculous hell of a lot.


----------------

Postscript: After writing the post, I did, finally, screw in the lightbulb. It took about 2.5 seconds in total.