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Noah Arkism 21st Centure Style - New Associations Article 4

“as I looked out into the night sky across all those infinite stars
it made me realize how unimportant they are”.

Peter Cook, comedian

Most of us have been living in a bubble of disavowal about global heating. We were aware it was happening, but we minimized its impacts. What might people be feeling as they emerge from the climate bubble? There is no space here adequately to explore this, so I will look at just two issues.

First, we know people find it difficult to emerge from a psychic retreat from reality. They are in danger of feeling flooded with anxiety, shock, shame and guilt as they see the reality more clearly. They struggle with alterations in their self-view and may rage, grieve and find it hard to think in proportion about their own responsibility. They are tasked with ‘working through’, including working through depressive and persecutory guilt. When in the climate bubble, personal responsibility and guilt can be projected onto and spread out over social groups all ‘in it together’, ‘it’ being a high carbon lifestyle. When the bubble bursts, people are vulnerable to experiencing the shock of what was comfortably projected being suddenly returned.

For example, I was talking with a friend who said people are shooting kangaroos in Australia now. Kangaroos are dying of thirst because of global heating and people are shooting them because do not know what else to do. We sat in stunned silence before we both acknowledged we felt deep shame at being part of this.

Secondly, because we did not act earlier, damage is much greater now and the struggles we have with shame, guilt and anxiety are now more difficult to face and to work through. Some damage is irreparable and knowing we have been part of causing it may feel too hard to stay with. I have in mind, for example, John Steiner’s paper on Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus . Bereft of support, Oedipus put out his eyes and retreated to arrogance and omnipotence. Also, Hyatt Williams’s point that facing the irreparable can lead a person to want to obliterate all knowledge that the destroyed object ever existed . I began with the Peter Cook quote as the danger is that our love of the earth could be obliterated if we do not work through what it means that the climate crisis is human caused. Obliterated would be the part of the self and the group that feels love and grief. The climate emergency, because it is being faced at such a late stage, now brings difficulties with working through of a tall order. Collective psychic work is vitally needed if we are to emerge from and stay out of the retreat.

Emerging from the climate bubble at this late stage is also likely to stir survival anxieties of different - and conflicting - kinds. We ignore these anxieties at our peril. One realistic anxiety about not acting on climate is that there will not be enough food, water, clean air and shelter. One realistic anxiety about acting on climate is we lose the freedom to ignore boundaries and limits and act as we please.

People emerging from a collective psychic retreat often feel reenergised and more alive. However, they are also vulnerable. They need the support of a culture of care that values truth and provides a non-persecutory atmosphere. They need the grounding that an understanding of politics can provide. These help to gain a sense of proportion when trying to work through issues of anxiety, shame and guilt. They also need strong leaders to help them face inner and outer climate reality. By strong leaders I mean empathic leaders able to withstand omnipotence and able to help people withstand their own omnipotence. Currently there is virtually no support of this kind. Instead we see the rise of ‘strong-man’ leaders shamelessly offering omnipotent quick fixes as pseudo repairs.

The political world we live in is now being called ‘the crazy’. ‘The crazy’ needs considerable investigating, but it does seem to involve a rapid rise in contempt for inconvenient realities, laws and limits and increasing entitlement to use omnipotent thinking to bypass these in order to construct virtual realities. ‘The crazy’ is not just ‘out there’ in politics. It easily gets into us, and to stay sane in today’s world we need to keep reminding ourselves of this serious fact.

I believe two factors are adding to ‘the crazy’. The first is Exceptionalism. The second is mounting anxieties about the climate crisis, a crisis which in large measure Exceptionalism has caused.

Exceptionalism

Christopher Hering wrote a paper on a form of ruthlessness , one much studied in psychoanalysis, for instance by Eric Brenman who called it narrow minded and cruel . Hering said,“(it) does not know any concern or mercy; it is devoid of any scruples or conflicts”. He called it “the alien”. The alien is the disassociated ruthless part of a mindset that in my current work I call Exceptionalism. Exceptions regularly override their inner concern in order to preserve their felt entitlement to see themselves as ideal and special, to have what they want and omnipotently to arrange things so they need feel no moral conflict or unease. Apparently. A particular kind of entitlement ensures the ruthlessness. Here is an example: we know an oil-based economy leads us directly to global heating and to ecocide. Well it’s a no brainer – continue with business as usual. Where is the profit in taking care? Taking care conflicts with our entitlements as Exceptions.

I argue that neoliberal ideology and economics is suffused with Exceptionalism. This mindset, on gaining global power in the 1980s, outsourced factories to countries where labour was cheapest. It outsourced its pollution. It was behind the financial crash in 2008. It takes no responsibility for consequences, and that makes it truly frightening. If it sees profit on one side of the scales and suffering, death and destruction on the other, it will find that profit outweighs suffering. It put in place a body of corporate law to support this position.

Neoliberal Exceptions also put in place a culture of un-care that works to set our inner exception free. This suits the needs of the neoliberal economy. The current dominant culture incessantly invites and nudges us to collude with corrupt and corrupting arguments. This, I believe, is not nearly recognised enough. Here is one small example. Teresa May responds to public pressure by announcing the UK will decarbonise by the year 2050. Then, (under reported) the government makes switching to solar more difficult with a new rule that VAT must now be applied to solar installations . Many people collude with what is largely an ‘as if’ repair, achieved with a target, and they feel more comfortable continuing with their life styles as usual.
The Exceptionalist mindset seeded the climate bubble, the largest and most consequential bubble in human history. It bloomed voluminously during the neoliberal era, fuelled by the powerful in possession of oil and gas. It aggressively set omnipotent thinking free and it ignored limits. Hubris, greed and triumphalism were bound to soar in this era. For example, in 2000, after Putin won his first election, at his acceptance banquet his campaign manager Surkov made the shortest toast: “To the deification of power. To us becoming gods”, he said .


Whitebook argued that the phenomenon we currently witness - ‘the crazy’ - involves a “break with (reality) globally, and construct(ion of) an alternative, delusional, “magical” reality” . This is the inevitably drift of Exceptionalism. ‘The crazy’ is also being manipulated and shaped to try to ensure that an oil-based economy can continue.

Noah’s Arkism as a response to anxiety

All this is to introduce Noah’s Arkism, a rapidly rising form of ‘the crazy’. The idea, based on omnipotent thinking, is I will be saved, and the rest will be sacrificed.

In the biblical story of Noah’s Ark, God sees mankind as wicked, meaning violent and full of corrupt thinking, and Noah as the one and the only good just man. God drowns all life in a great flood, saving only Noah, his family and representatives of animal species. They all board an Ark that Noah has built according to God’s detailed instructions.

My argument is that 21st century Noah’s Arkism is linked with awareness we are in a climate emergency combined with an awareness that there is currently a dearth of good leaders with the power to enact a New Green Deal. A New Green Deal would in my view quell some of the anxieties people are feeling. I see it in part as a vital measure to improve mental health.

NA Noahs arkismHere are some examples of current Noah’s Arkism:
1. Food, water and clean air are now threatened, and temperatures are rising. Being middle class, my economic position will save me. I must soon install air conditioning.

2. Being mega-wealthy, I can move to New Zealand. In the longer term, humans will have the technology to move to Mars. Not all humans obviously, but alpha types like me.

3. At least I am white and Christian. ‘Strong man’ leaders will save me. The price of passage onto the Ark is loyalty to the leader and accepting the leader’s redefinition of who is ‘us’ (to be saved) and who is ‘them’ (to be sacrificed and kicked off the ark if they try to climb aboard).


Here, ‘all of us’ has morphed into ‘a select group I am part of’. It is an omnipotently constructed phantasy involving a pseudo safe place, the Ark. People, under the pressure of survival anxieties, may build the phantasy according to detailed instructions given by leaders offering pseudo containment. For instance, Britain as an island Ark, with all wicked undesirable people kept out after Brexit through strict immigration laws. The US as a castle Ark with a stout wall to keep out all brown skinned bad people. Europe as an Ark with wire fences to keep out refugees who include climate refugees.


4. Another kind of ‘Arkism’ protects against unbearable feelings. For example, many climate scientists are currently suffering near unbearable feelings. I will save myself from these feelings by constructing for myself an impregnable Ark to keep the unbearable feelings in them (the drowned) and away from me (the saved). I am very expert at deflecting my feelings about climate reality. I do not notice that when I do this, I have thrown overboard the caring reality-seeking part of myself.

Christopher Hering said it is vital to keep recognising that the ruthless ‘throwing overboard’ alien is also part of us. I believe to do this we need to be talking now much more about the climate crisis and helping each other to face climate reality. The conversations we have with and about children are perhaps the most significant. We can choose to say how wonderful it is that the children are striking for climate and leave it at that and leave the problem with them (throw them overboard while sounding caring) or we can work with the children to support them and also work to help them to achieve a world they can live in.

I end with a conversation I heard recently. Someone said, how terrible that we are supposed to do all this repair work when the best we can possibly end up with is an earth that will still be damaged. Someone replied, yes, it is terrible but what is the implication? Do we think only ‘the perfect state’ is worth fighting for? Someone else said, young climate strikers don’t seem to be thinking like that. They know the earth is damaged and they also know it’s the only earth they have. They accept the damage and want to stop more damage. They are the realists. We who will soon be dead have the luxury of thinking it’s too much to face and it’s too hard to work to repair a world we have damaged. This is the sort of ordinary conversation I believe needs to happen on a big scale to help us work through the invidious effects of a culture of un-care that encouraged us to believe we could be excepted from facing reality because we were so ideally special. It gave me hope.

 This article by CPA member Sally Weintrobe was part of a special issue focusing on the climate emergency of New Associations, the magazine of the British Psychoanalytic Council. Helen Morgan, a Jungian analyst and former Chair of the BPC commissioned the articles that comprised this autumn 2019 issue. (British Psychoanalytic Council www.bpc.org.uk) Illustrator: Allen Fatimaharan.

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Extinction Rebellion Experiences: A Personal Perspective - New Associations Article 3

On the 31st October, 2018, Extinction Rebellion declared itself in uprising against the UK government over its failure to act on the climate emergency. I joined the rebellion ten days later and took an active role in the mass disruption that followed. We targeted government buildings, closed down six bridges over the Thames and, during the International Rebellion, occupied four major London sites. I was part of the first wave of rebels that closed down the roads around Marble Arch.

The rebellion has grown in size from a few hundred people in October to over ten thousand in April and continues to grow exponentially. We believe we are on the right side of history and are prepared to sacrifice our liberty in honour of our beliefs. During the International Rebellion, over one thousand ordinary people from all walks of life were arrested and jailed for their participation in non-violent direct action.

There was no trouble with the police. Indeed, Ken Marsh, chairman of the Metropolitan Police Federation, is on record as saying: "This is very, very difficult for us because my colleagues have never come across the situation that they are faced with at the moment. They are dealing with very, very passive people, probably quite nice people, who don't want confrontation whatsoever with the police or anyone else but are breaking the law."

We believe breaking the law is necessary to bring about change. We tried signing petitions, we tried writing to our MPs, we tried legal demonstrations – so far nothing has happened and we are now out of time. According to a recent report by the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), we have just eleven years to avoid social and ecological collapse. The IPCC represents the best minds in the field of climate science. Scientists are not generally known for their use of hyperbole. We are in a desperate situation.

I have been aware of climate change since I was a teenager. I remember the Kyoto Protocol, which was signed in 1997, and how hopeful I felt at that time. Everything changed in the new millennium. I remember the terrorist attacks, the long war, the failure of successive governments to listen to the people, the financial crash, austerity and then, in recent memory, the referendum on Europe. With every passing year, I lost a little more faith in the government’s ability to act in the best interests of the people and prevent catastrophic climate change.

It is not easy to live in a culture of denial. Before joining the rebellion, I frequently felt anxious, depressed, angry and occasionally desperate. I did not feel as though I could talk to anyone about how I was feeling, outside of a small circle of trusted friends, family and colleagues. I remember how people used to change the subject as soon as I mentioned the climate – as though the climate crisis was a taboo subject. All of that changed when I joined the rebellion and, for the first time, met others with whom I could identify.

I consider myself privileged to be able to speak openly and honestly about my feelings within a community that values empathy and respect above all else. We are developing an inclusive culture that welcomes every part of every person, including those parts that do not always seem coherent or cohesive. There are tensions and conflicts, of course, as one would expect in any mass movement with no obvious hierarchy. Nonetheless, we share a common goal and are committed to working through our differences together.

There is so much I would like to say about the rebellion, but I will end by sharing my experiences at Oxford Circus on the day the police confiscated our iconic pink boat. The boat had provided a striking visual focal point with the words “TELL THE TRUTH” emblazoned on its side. I loved that boat. In my mind, it came to represent love, inclusion, diversity, hope, defiance and, above all else, an unwavering commitment to the truth.

We had managed to hold the space for four days straight, reimagining the famous retail location as a place of celebration, with singing and dancing and music and play. Then, on the fifth day the police moved in, determined to reclaim the space. I remember arriving at the Circus to find a police cordon around the boat itself and the hundred or so rebels who had already ‘locked on’ for the duration. It had become impossible to get reinforcements to the boat.

I did not know what to do. I felt powerless to intervene. I desperately wanted to break the police lines, even though it would have meant certain arrest, but felt torn between my commitment to the rebellion and my commitment to my family, who had travelled with me that day. As I watched my five year old daughter draw chalk flowers on the road, to the sound of heavy cutting machinery, I feared for the future of the rebellion. More than that, I feared for my daughter’s future.

As I witnessed the boat being slowly dismantled, I felt almost overcome by grief. Then, in that moment of near despair, something beautiful happened. Two rebels – I do not know their names – invited us all to sit down together, several hundred rebels or more. They suggested we convene a ‘Peoples’ Assembly’, which is essentially a forum for sharing thoughts and feelings with a view to building consensus and commitment to a course of action.

We were invited to consider how we would help each other bear the grief of the coming climate crisis and build resilience within our communities. I knew immediately that everything we had been through so far – the struggle, the hardship, the discomfort, the pain, the sense of impotence in the face of state power, the conflict between responsibility to family and responsibility to the planet, the near overwhelming feelings of loss, grief and despair, the ability to support each other and make sacrifices for the greater good – I realised that these are the emotional experiences we must all work through together as a society, if we are to survive the climate emergency.


Please join us. The rebellion needs you.
https://rebellion.earth/act-now/join-us/

Rob Stuart is a psychodynamic counsellor in private practice. He trained at Birkbeck College, University of London and is registered with the British Psychoanalytic Council and the British Association of Counselling and Psychotherapy.
http://startcounselling.com/

 This article by CPA member Rob Stuart was part of a special issue focusing on the climate emergency of New Associations, the magazine of the British Psychoanalytic Council. Helen Morgan, a Jungian analyst and former Chair of the BPC commissioned the articles that comprised this autumn 2019 issue. (British Psychoanalytic Council www.bpc.org.uk) Illustrator: Allen Fatimaharan.

Written by Rob Stuart

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Getting Real - New Associations Article

A tragedy which is without precedent is unfolding in front of our eyes. We are witnessing catastrophic rates of species extinction and biodiversity loss, soil and ocean exhaustion and runaway climate change.

 I sit back and look at what I have just written. Somewhere inside me, someone is stifling a yawn. Blah de blah de blah. Perhaps I’m lapsing into hyperbole? I’m aware of a little voice in my head which says “Paul this is an exaggeration, you’re in danger of making a fool of yourself.” This little voice may be familiar to you, it’s a voice that says ‘don’t get yourself in a state’, it’s one of the ways we do disavowal being creatures who cannot bear very muchreality.

So I snap out of my dissociated state and go and look at the two recent UN reports warning me of this tragedy. Hmmm. Now someone else pops into my head, its Greta the pigtailed clarion from Stockholm and she’s saying “I am doing this because you adults are shitting on my future”. It takes an Asperger’s child to cut through the crap.

The IPBES Global Assessment Report on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services tells me one million species are facing extinction. Nothing like this has happened since the dinosaurs disappeared 65 million years ago. But wait a mo’, that eminent earth systems scientist Toby Young, writing in May’s Spectator, tells me that the conclusion of this report (compiled by 150 expert authors from reviews of over 15,000 scientific and governmental papers) “doesn’t add up”. That’s a relief then.

Now I remember John Steiner’s 1985 paper ‘Turning a Blind Eye’. Here he suggests that everyone knew who Oedipus really was from the start, the storyof Oedipus is actually the story of a cover up. He notes, “(C)hance seems to play an important role in this process, as it forms the vital flaw through which the truth can be attacked” (1985, 168). Of course! Isn’t there just a chance these ‘expert authors’ might be wrong? Nothing like this since the dinosaurs went? Come, come now. And I can hear someone telling me in a reassuring and fatherly way to get a grip on myself.

We need to find ways of encouraging these one-eyed ‘fathers’ of ours to read the two reports in question – the 39 page IPBES summary for policy makers and the summary of the IPCC Special Report: Global Warming of 1.5°C (https://www.ipcc.ch/sr15/chapter/summary-for-policy-makers/) – and help them bear their reality. For they make for grim reading.

For almost 20 years now, Earth System Scientists have been deliberating on the emergence of the Anthropocene. This new geological epoch has three distinguishing characteristics. For the first time in the Earth’s 4.7 billion year history the imprint of a single species can be found everywhere; for better or worse this is the epoch of humankind. Secondly, and as a consequence of global heating, nature, for so long considered an object or resource for humankind to use, fights back. And as a consequence, the climatic conditions which appeared on Earth approximately 11,700 years ago and which have provided the basis for agriculture, settled life and human civilization are now being systematically destroyed (Lieberman & Gordon 2018).

The hidden hand of climate change, specifically drought and rural dislocation, has already been discerned behind the civil wars in Dafur and Syria, and the food price riots that kick started the Arab Spring were precipitated by the failure of the Russian wheat harvest in 2010. Social collapse has begun. Civilization itself is now on the endangered list.

Like an unconscious force, climate change begins to influence all aspects of global politics. Bruno Latour, the philosopher of science, insists that we can understand nothing about the politics of the last decades if we do not put climate change and its denial front and centre. Consider, for example, the riseof authoritarianism and nationalism. As Ian Angus notes, as early as 2003 a Pentagon report was envisaging a fortress-like retreat towards self sufficiency in the face of worsening climate change. Now the IPCC has included this strategy as one of its five Shared Socioeconomic Pathways, one which anticipates a rise of nationalism as “countries focus on achieving energy and food security goals within their own regions” (IPCC SSP for 2021 Sixth Assessment), a scenario which was anticipated a decade ago by the radical US journalist Christian Parenti who referred to it as ‘the politics of the armed lifeboat'.

As the liberal political order fractures everywhere it is as well to remind ourselves that whilst full of good intentions liberal democracy has never veered from a ‘business as usual’ trajectory. According to the latest projections being prepared for the 6th Assessment Report this trajectory, depending on the pathway pursued within it, would increase average global temperatures by between 3 and 5°C by 2100. This would make for an intolerable world for our grandchildren.

This is where our collective disavowal gets us. Our direction of travel is clear and it is one increasingly incompatible with the idea of human progress. We all want to carry on with our business as usual, busily not seeing that it is in crisis. When you come out of disavowal it’s usual to get swallowed up by anxiety, grief, guilt or anger and if this can’t be contained to then drop into despair. Even when these feelings can be contained they continue to trouble us. We have to learn to face these difficult truths and then stay with the trouble. There’s no cure for being human in these times. It’s like a chronic condition, it’s not going to get better and it may get worse; we’ll have to learn to live with it, we’ll have to learn how to flourish in spite of it.

How will we adapt to living in a society where spring has begun to fall silent, where climate refugees besiege the remaining temperate regions of the earth and where ecological austerity is no longer a matter of lifestyle choice but something forced upon us? In other words, how will we adapt to the kind of living that is likely in the Anthropocene if we continue on our ‘business as usual’ trajectory?

Since last summer’s heatwaves and the IPCC Report on 1.5°C a great fear has been gathering, manifest in public meetings and on social media, and beginning to percolate into our consulting rooms. It’s more than thirty years since Hannah Segal wrote her paper on the threat of nuclear war (Segal 1987). Rereading it I notice both similarities and differences to the predicament we are now in. The same mechanisms of denial and disavowal in relation to the danger are to the fore. But the threat then was one of instant annihilation, probably of all of humanity, whereas now the danger creeps insidiously but relentlessly upon us, and upon some more than others. Back then Segal felt that our own destructive impulses were denied and projected into the other group, the Russians, against whose hostile intent we sought an imaginary deterrence. Now, as we systematically vandalise the living systems upon which we all, humans and nonhumans, depend, there is no enemy ‘other’ to blame. Our destructiveness is exposed starkly before us. It would be tempting to speak of ‘species shame’ if only it weren’t for the inconvenient fact that those of us (white, middle class, western) who were and still are most responsible for this mess are those who, to begin with, will be least affected.

What part does the human condition play in this? We are a strange outgrowth of nature through which one part of nature has developed the capacity to become self aware, take itself as an object of contemplation and shape itself in a conscious way. And yet it is still of nature - human subjectivity remains trapped within the confines of the body, a body which suffers, ages and dies.

Perhaps only with the development of our modern civilization does humankind become partially aware of this tragic contradiction that inheres to being human. But we moderns seem to find this fact of life, our mortality, so difficult to bear. Our Promethean drive to master the universe appears like a manic defence against this knowledge and the annihilation anxiety that it elicits. We will become Gods. Progress, every extension of our control over the human and other-than-human, seems to be in part a flight from this unthought and unthinkable known

It is curious to observe how, in the years after their famous conversation on the subject of transience in 1913, Freud and Rilke almost appeared to change positions, Freud becoming more pessimistic and Rilke less despondent. In her preface to In Praise of Mortality, a collection of Rilke’s poetry, the great environmentalist Joanna Macy puts it thus: “Rilke’s is not a conditional courage, dependent on an afterlife. Nor is it a stoic courage, keeping a stiff upper lip when shattered by loss. It is courage born of the ever-unexpected discovery that acceptance of mortality yields an expansion of being. In naming what is doomed to disappear, naming the way it keeps streaming through our hands, we can hear the song that streaming makes”.

I think that ‘song’ is the pulse of life, Eros. Perhaps only if we are prepared to stay with the trouble, stay peering into that abyss, that a new spirit might arise. The new generation of activists, perhaps represented by those Extinction Rebellion activists who brought pot plants and bookshelves to the occupied bridges across the Thames earlier this year, seem prepared to do just this. We ridicule them for their idealism at our peril, it is us who need to ‘get real’ not them.

With civilization on the brink Segal called upon psychoanalysis to play its part in the mobilisation of life forces and warned how the attitude of analytic neutrality ‘can also become a shield of denial’. Speaking of those in the peace movement she argued ‘we must add our voice clearly to their voices’. She also felt psychoanalysis had a specific contribution to make. Because of its understanding of the psychic defences, she argued we should be able to ‘contribute something to the overcoming of apathy and self-deception in ourselves and others’.

Today there are many ways we can contribute to overcoming indifference to the climate emergency, from engaging with the media to support (if not active involvement) for campaigning groups, from life style choices which reduce our destructive imprint to developing new therapeutic practices which, for example, support climate distressed children and their parents. But the first step is to engage honestly with our own reactions to this unfolding tragedy. Today, in relation to the climate emergency, an increasing number of BPC registrants are making this contribution via involvement in the Climate Psychology Alliance, a network established by BPC and UKCP registrants a few years ago.

If the psychotherapy professions are to make the contribution that is so urgently needed they must wake up to the unprecedented nature of the time of the Anthropocene that we are now entering. As Naomi Klein put it, ‘this changes everything’. To carry on, business as usual, with our individual or group practices as if this darkening world didn’t exist will become increasingly irresponsible.

This article by CPA member Paul Hoggett was part of a special issue focusing on the climate emergency of New Associations, the magazine of the British Psychoanalytic Council. Helen Morgan, a Jungian analyst and former Chair of the BPC commissioned the articles that comprised this autumn 2019 issue. (British Psychoanalytic Council www.bpc.org.uk) Illustrator: Allen Fatimaharan.

References

Angus, I. (2016) Facing the Anthropocene: Fossil Capitalism and the Crisis of the Earth System. New York: Monthly Review Press.

Barrows, A. & Macy, J. (2016) In Praise of Mortality: Selections From Rainer Maria Rilke’s Duino Elegies & Sonnets to Orpheus. Brattleboro, Vermont: Echo Point Books.

Latour, B. (2018) Down to Earth: Politics in the New Climatic Regime. Cambridge: Polity.

Lieberman, B. & Gordon, E. (2018). Climate change in human history: Prehistory to the present. London & New York: Bloomsbury Academic.

Segal, H. ((1987) ‘Silence is the real crime’, Int. Rev. Psycho-Anal, 14: 3-12.

Steiner, J. (1985) ‘Turning a blind eye: Psychotic states and the cover-up for Oedipus’, Int. Rev. Psycho-Anal, 12: 161-7

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What Psychotherapy Can Do for the Climate and Biodiversity Crisis

Apologies in advance, but I’m hoping that reading this will help you feel depressed – about biodiversity loss and our lack of progress over the climate crisis. The thing is, in these extreme circumstances, a bit of depression about the environment could be precisely what we need – it’s the only sane response.

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Conscientious Protectors

As an increasing number of activists are prepared to risk arrest in order to defend the Earth against fossil fuel capitalism. What role might climate psychology play in their defence?

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We are a diverse community of therapeutic practitioners, thinkers, researchers, artists and others. We believe that attending to the psychology and emotions of the climate and ecological crisis is at the heart of our work.

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