31 July 2019

On a hot summer's evening we meet friends. A long table has been set in the garden. A pot luck dinner. Children and dogs are jumping on a trampoline.
Some of the guests that evening work for the UNFCC, one of several international employers in our city. We talk about the future, about the lives of our children, we try to keep it light. Someone mentions Greta Thunberg. Of course someone mentions Greta Thunberg.

The big mistake, someone says, is that people are expecting her to have answers, solutions. While all she does is tell the truth. But here we are, we sit back and say, great, she is great, and somehow we think that's enough. She's doing something. At last.
Aren't the young people great, they are going to change it all for the better. 
(As if none of us clever fuckers ever knew what to do until now.)

Today, he calls us. We talk about Greta Thunberg's plans to sail across the Atlantic, to spend a year on the American continent. We are excited about the boat, a zero emissions racing boat and we speculate on the cramped conditions, the length of the journey, the seasickness.  
Actually, he adds, I am afraid for her, afraid for her life. All of us at UNFCC are.

And we know he is not taking about the sea or the weather.


  1. It's good to have someone speak the truth. But the truth is only the beginning. So much work to do. Now I'm worried about Greta's time on the American continent.

  2. well, she is enroute to the most violent country on the planet with the most guns and the most crazy people walking around armed who thin a gun is the solution to every problem and insult. I'm afraid for her life too. she can tell the truth all she wants but if no acts on it, so what. and the adults in the room aren't interested in acting.

  3. I'm glad she'll be speaking out in the country that probably most needs to listen.