If another person tells me we just need to change our light bulbs and remember our reusable bags when grocery shopping, I’m going to scream. I can’t stand these conversations anymore, or the conversation about these conversations: that “green” choices are available only to the privileged and focusing on our individual actions is a distraction from meaningful change which only happens through collective action. Yes, British Petroleum was the first to put a carbon footprint calculator online, yes, it was a strategic move to distract us, as if we can shop our way out of the problem. How ridiculous are our individual pledges in the face of millions of gallons of oil being spilt into the Gulf of Mexico? Oh, and did you read that book? The graphic novel called “As the World Burns” goes through all the math and shows that even if EVERY person on the planet did all 365 things to reduce their carbon footprint, it wouldn’t be impactful. Yes, and did you see that headline about how 100 fossil fuel companies are responsible for 71% of carbon emissions? Yea, but that includes the emissions from the fossil fuels after they’re sold, so like, cars too. But what can I do, there’s no public transit, I have to drive to work. And if I don’t fly, I’ll never see my family again.
Ok. We get it. We are insignificant alone. We cannot save the world alone. So why aren’t we talking about collective action? Why aren’t we inviting people into those conversations? Because collective action is hard. But that doesn’t mean it can’t also be fun, full of comradery, and rewarding. Revolutions need dancing to be successful—you need to live the joy you are fighting for.
If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.
- Emma Goldman
Here’s the challenge: collective action for positive change needs to be place-based (to meet community needs and be ecologically sound), so there isn’t always a one-size-fits-all approach. It requires collaboration, time, planning, and the acceptance that things will go slow, sometimes wrong, and that we will have to re-adjust and adapt our plans. There are barriers to collective action at the community level, such as funding, leadership and organisational capacity, red tape (permits, regulations, etc), lack of institutional support from the city, and even external influences from business or politics may try to stand in the way. These are challenges for even the most tight-knit communities with a foundation of trust and clear goals. But some grassroots initiatives also face a lack of trust, different priorities, and apathy and pessimism. Just trying to get everyone on the same page can end a project before it begins.
In the United States especially, collective action is treated like radical nonsense. First, the culture is highly individualistic, thus the emphasis on individual choices, and the aversion to working with other people. There’s a strong “I don’t need nothin’ from nobody” vibe in the US. Plus, if you do organise, you are criticised for anything and everything because there’s no “right way” to protest. And that’s most of what we see in media, the protests. Rarely are we presented with a well-organized grassroots initiative where people came together over a common goal and succeeded in achieving it. But it happens all the time.
Unfortunately, engaging in collective action is also something only for the privileged, because at minimum you need the time, knowledge, skills, etc. Luckily, if you’re reading this, you probably have a few of those. To quote one of my favourite artists of all time, Cannupa Hanska,
Weaponize your privilege.
We all have some kind of privilege, Cannupa explained to the full auditorium at Oregon State University, where I sat two rows from the front. He said, “I’m privileged to be an artist and work with such amazing people.” The point is that we can all weaponize our privileges for the greater good. Cannupa does a lot of social engagement in his work and at the time of this speaking event he had just completed the Mirror Sheild Project at Standing Rock, where Indigenous People gathered to protest an oil pipeline through their ancestral lands, to protect water, and ya know, to save the freakin’ planet from fossil fuels.
With these words, Cannupa created a great way to invite people to “check your privilege.” What advantages do you have? What training, skills, knowledge? What do you do for work? Where do you live? Who listens when you speak and who do you know? At what tables do you already have seat? If you have an advanced degree, how can you use it to help a cause you care about? Not all of us have to be on the front lines or in the spotlight—doing the books for a nonprofit is AMAZING for them, especially if you point out where they can save money. Are you a teenager with free time after school? Find a youth movement or start one. If you’re a project manager, maybe you take on a specific team to achieve a specific goal for a certain amount of time. Are you an architect or interior designer? Center sustainable design in your work, from passive heating and cooling to greywater systems and rooftop gardens; do some pro-bono work for a community centre or affordable housing. Are you a barista? You can organise to have all the spent coffee grinds go to a community garden project. Do you have the stomach for public office? Join city council or run for mayor, school board, or other local office and prioritise sustainable initiatives that make your community more resilient. You don’t have to be in office to make a difference, you can also submit solutions/projects to city council meetings. Are you a surfer? How about joining your local SurfRider Chapter, or Surfers for Climate (link below), or starting your own surf community organisation? Or Rock Climbers for Renewables? I just made that up but it sounds good, right?
The possibilities are endless and we have all the solutions. They just need to be mainstreamed.
We don’t have to wait for big government to do it, and in fact, we shouldn’t wait. And many of us are NOT waiting. One reason there’s so much pessimism and apathy is that many local, grassroots efforts don’t make the headlines—if it bleeds, it leads, right? So we don’t hear about positive change, but it is happening.
Food forests are cropping up all over the United States, providing food security, better nutritional outcomes, and benefiting local ecosystems and more.
Beach clean-ups are happening on a regular basis thanks to volunteer organisations like SOLVE in Oregon.
Cities are turning roads into pedestrian streets, painting roof tops white to reflect the sun’s rays and reduce heat, and writing their own sustainability ordinances like this one in Santa Monica, California.
Some ideas are easily transferable, like these drainage socks that actually save cities money. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel when you advocate for good ideas that already exist!
And there’s so much more going on. We can join any of it. You don’t have to take on the entire system to stop climate change. We must do it together. You choose your cause and apply your knowledge and skills accordingly. That is your part.
To address some of the pessimism and apathy, which is all to easy to feel these days, here are two examples of local actions making a big difference. (1) Rewilding an area of Scotland and (2) cleaning up a beach in India. Both were, on the surface, purely local actions but they both had global implications for biodiversity. The area in Scotland was featured on Wild Isles (narrated by David Attenborough, of course) because it is an important site for migratory birds flying in to nest from Canada and Africa; the rewilding saw a huge increase in the seasonal return of a variety of birds. The beach in India was basically a trash dump and it took two years to remove the waste. But as soon as conditions were right, sea turtles returned to lay eggs and little hatchlings made their way to the sea! This is a critical habitat restored for an endangered species that swims all over the world. Never mind the benefits to the human community in these places.
So no, you can’t save the world alone. We can save it together, if we do the work together. Hope is a verb. If I haven’t given you enough ideas or inspiration about how to find the best way you can help, then I recommend Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson’s TedTalk on Climate Joy.
You can also listen to what people are doing as a career, a hobby, and as volunteers on the podcast Coral Kelp & Community, including an underwater photographer (S1E6) and nonprofits like Surfers for Climate (S2E3) and Blutopia (S2E1), both started by people like you.
On a more personal note, I think collective action is desperately needed in the United States to cultivate joy. We are so disconnected and isolated from each other by our society’s emphasis on individualism, we are a people cut off from one of the most basic of human needs: belonging. If we start acting like we are part of a community again, start caring for each other, we can dramatically impact our own mental health and the resilience, happiness, and quality of life for ourselves and everyone around us. Find your cause. Find your team, or crew, or possie, or whatever you want to call the group where you feel you belong. That is in itself a little revolution. Imagine what you can achieve together, offering each other love and support.
What is your climate- or eco-joy?
Tara, thank you for writing this. It is a powerful call to action that resonates deeply. Thank you for bringing up the idea of "weaponizing privilege"—it reframes privilege as a tool for impact rather than guilt. Your examples of everyday people finding creative ways to contribute, from food forests to drainage socks, show how meaningful change can happen when we use what we have for the collective good.
The way you highlight Cannupa Hanska’s words is also incredibly motivating. Instead of isolating privilege, it empowers people to think about their skills, networks, and resources as entry points into climate action. And your personal note about community and belonging is such an important reminder that collective action isn't just about solving environmental issues; it’s about connecting and finding joy in the process.
My climate joy lies in building my community garden, where we focus on native plants to support local pollinators. It’s a small act, but it’s my way of contributing to a larger ecosystem. Thank you for sharing this vision of positive, community-driven change.
Thank you. so much is working to make us feel hopeless, so we have to work to bring hope again... and results!