Earth hour misses the point of environmentalism.

The problem of environmentalism is one of consumption. We drive twenty-thousand dollar cars that run on middle east gas and buy trinkets made of plastic shipped on boats from China. We eat food trucked from the midwest grown on industrial megafarms, sprayed with chemicals and harvested using diesel powered machines. We buy things off Amazon stored in a warehouse in New Jersey, and have them shipped across the country second-day air. With every single thing we do, we’re drawing a massively disproportionate share of the world’s resources. Turning off the lights for an hour is just sitting in the dark, and not looking at the underlying problem, the one of consumption. All you’ve done is saved yourself a little money, money that you’ll go spend on a gallon of gas, or a candy bar or a videogame made in Taiwan. And you’ve probably used some matches and candles made in a factory in Mexico. But that’s not environmentalism. Environmentalism is not turning off the lights for an hour. It’s not buying a Prius. It’s not buying ‘green’ products at Wal-Mart. It’s not signing a petition or joining a facebook group.

Real environmentalism is selling your car, buying a used bike, and using the leftover money to buy an acre of rainforest in Brazil. It’s not using anything that was made in China and shipped here on a freighter. It’s buying locally grown, sustainably produced food products. Environmentalism is a long term change in our habits of consumption.

But if you’re trying to save the world, even THESE miss the point. Because they make it seem like there’s a simple answer to the problem. But the reality, the real reality of the world we live in is that it’s complex, and there are no simple answers.

Buying an acre of rainforest in Brazil might mean less land for Brazilians to farm, which means more poor Brazilians.

Not using any Chinese products is going to mean more poor Chinese people. It also might mean the rise in price of US products, which means more poor Americans.

Buying locally grown products probably won’t work for all the 300 million people in America, much less the 6 billion people in the rest of the world . Right now one farmer feeds about 100 people, cheaply, thanks to industrialized, ‘unsustainable’ agriculture. But without that, it’s unlikely we can produce enough food for everyone. The reality of locally grown, sustainably produced food is probably starvation for some people, and more expensive food for everyone else.

Of course, even THESE are over-simplifications. It’s impossible to say for certain what the effects of doing something are. The world we’ve built for ourselves is so complex, so interconnected, that there’s no easy answer for anything. There’s not even an easy QUESTION for anything. It’s like we’re living in a giant mechanical clock. We can’t take out one part and replace it with a different part without changing how the clock runs. And it’s not easy to see if it will run better, or run worse. Maybe it’ll run better for an hour, and then break. Maybe it’ll grind and churn for a while, and then run perfectly. Unfortunately, no one really, truly understands how our ‘clock’ works. Maybe buying only US products will mean more employment and a stronger economy. Or maybe it’ll mean higher prices and widespread poverty. You might make your community better by buying from local farms. Or you might make them so popular they double their prices.

There’s a great line in A Beautiful Mind, that “Conviction is a luxury for those on the sidelines”. It’s so easy to think that if everyone would stop thinking of themselves and do what is obviously the right thing, then all our problems would finally get fixed.

But there is no obviously right thing. The only sure thing is that whatever you’re doing, it’s a tradeoff. Someone is getting the short end of the stick. The world is like a giant game of musical chairs. You can arrange them all you want, and talk about how great it will be when everyone can sit down together in peace and harmony. But no matter what you do, no matter how clever you are, there aren’t enough chairs for everyone. Someone has to fall down.

Fixing the world is an admirable goal. But we have to fix the REAL world. The complex one. The one where problems are hard, and there’s not a good answer for anything. Because that’s where we live. We won’t get anywhere pretending we live somewhere else.

When’s the last time you had an argument with someone? It probably wasn’t that long ago. And it probably wasn’t about anything important. All it takes to have an argument is for someone to disagree with you, and that happens constantly; no two people are alike. Arguments are inevitable.

People argue about many different things, in many different ways. Complex arguments have been going on for centuries. But the simplest sorts of arguments can be boiled down to differences in two things: the degree of a belief, and the certainty of that belief.

In an argument, both people think that whatever they believe is right and what their opponent believes is wrong. This focus on ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ makes it seem like there are two sides. The ‘right’ side, which is whatever you believe, and the ‘wrong’ side, which is whatever everyone else believes. We slip into this ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ mode of thinking automatically, and it tends to blind us to reality: that we’ve picked just one of an infinite number of positions to take on an issue.

Take, for example, the abortion debate. One side demonizes the other as baby-killers. The other side demonizes them right back as freedom-crushers. Both sides are convinced that their ’side’ is the right one.

Looking at the conflict this way, however, ignores the complexity of the issue. There aren’t simply two positions to take: there are INFINITELY many. To put the argument in its proper context, this must be shown. Enter the continuum.

Your choices aren’t “abortion is never ok” or “abortion is always ok”. These are just the endpoints on a line. Between them lie an infinite number of positions. “Abortion is ok if its only a few cells”, “abortion is not ok unless the mother was raped”, “abortion is ok until the 2nd trimester”, “abortion not ok unless the fetus has birth defects”, etc. The debate can be re-framed as “When is abortion ok?”. You’re not picking a side, you’re drawing a line. On one side of it is what’s ok, on the other is what’s not.

This is what ‘degree of belief’ is: where you draw your line on the continuum. People draw their lines in different places, and disagree with whoever draws their line too far away.

However, even this is an oversimplification. In this example, on one side of a line would be a fetus, on the other side of a line would be a fetus with just ONE additional cell. People generally don’t have beliefs this exact. There are things they know are ok and things they know aren’t ok. The extremes are black and white. But in the middle are shades of grey, where its unclear what’s right and what’s wrong. Beliefs are always slightly uncertain. The line people draw is fuzzy.

This is the other source of disagreement: uncertainty. Two people can believe in the exact same thing, but if one is 100% certain and one is only 50% certain, there exists the potential for an argument. As such, we need to expand our continuum, and add an axis that displays uncertainty. A persons belief has turned from a straight line to a curve. The position of the curve is based on their belief, and the shape of it is based on their certainty of that belief.

To illustrate this, I’ll use a disagreement I recently had with my girlfriend. She likes to make long-term plans, but I operate much more spur of the moment. I originally analyzed it as “She makes plans and I don’t”. But this was simply the “right and wrong” bias that is so easy to fall into. Plans are impossible not to make, even if they’re only made seconds in advance. The difference was how long we were planning ahead. She was generally planning farther ahead than I was. So we’ll place “time planned ahead” on the x-axis.

To estimate the certainty of our beliefs, I’ll estimate how often we make plans of different lengths, and show it as a bar graph.

Now I replace the bar graph with a curve, and the result shows our argument: a difference in the lengths of our respective plans, and a difference in our certainty.

The area where our two graphs intersect is our common ground, where our uncertainties force us to agree. Common ground, or the lack of it, is the essence of an argument. The smaller the common ground, the larger the (potential) argument. Here our area of common ground is large; this is a minor disagreement. Differences in degree of belief and certainty both serve to shrink or expand common ground. People with the exact same beliefs will still disagree depending on the difference in uncertainty between them.

Let’s return to the abortion debate, and complete the continuum. This argument is constructed slightly differently than the planning argument. When it’s a question of right and wrong, certainty exists at the extremes, and uncertainty in the middle. As such, the curves will be reversed.

Here, the common ground exists in the areas where both parties agree something is right and something is wrong. The conflict will be defined by a new area, conflict ground. This exists where what one person thinks is right, the other person thinks is wrong. The larger the conflict ground, the larger the argument.

Using the continuum to visualize arguments yields some interesting conclusions. Generally, the more certain you are of something, the more you’ll disagree with everyone else, and the greater the chance for conflict. More uncertainty means less disagreement. However, if someone has beliefs VERY close to yours, then increasing your uncertainty can actually decrease your common ground, and increases the chance for an argument. These conclusions were reached just by looking at the shapes of the graphs, but they seem to match what we know about real life conflict.

A continuum can be used to shed light on an argument by looking at it in a different way. Not only does it prevent you from falling into the ‘right and wrong’ trap, but it forces you to consider exactly what the disagreement is. It may be simpler (or more complex) than you think.

Remember, this only works for relatively simple arguments. Many arguments are actually combinations of different beliefs, and the most complex arguments, such as “Does God exist?”, “Does free will exist?”, “Should Palestine become part of Israel?”, are combinations of possibly hundreds of differing beliefs. Even the abortion debate becomes significantly more complex if someone believes that abortion is never ok; they’ll argue fiercely with anyone who thinks otherwise, even for abortions where the fetus is only 1 or 2 cells large. But even in these cases where an argument can’t be displayed using a continuum, it can still be a useful aid in understanding.

Finally, please don’t try to apply any actual math to get these values. The values we attach to the axis are guesses. Their uncertainty is so high that trying to use any sort of math is laughable. This is not a LAW of arguments. It is in no way exact or rigorous. It is simply a different way of looking at them.

Also, keep in mind the possibility that graphing your argument might make it worse:

Examples of other continuums: