If you care about your offspring, you should support 'nature positive'

The most pressing problem we face is climate change. It’s even more important than – dare I say it – getting inflation down to 2 per cent by last Friday. But we mustn’t forget that climate change is just the most glaring symptom of the ultimate threat to human existence: our continuing destruction of the natural environment.

Economists are often accused of being too narrowly focused on markets and the market prices that move up or down to bring supply and demand into balance.

But one way they’ve widened their scope is by broadening the meaning of “capital”. Capital refers to anything that helps us produce the many goods and services we consume as part of our standard of living.

Historically, it has meant “physical” capital: the human-made tools, machines, factories, shops, offices and other buildings, as well as infrastructure such as roads and bridges.

To this, economists have added the “human” capital we have in our brains: the education, training and on-the-job knowledge that adds to the productive value of our labour.

And then they took account of “social” capital: the human relationships and networks, norms of acceptable behaviour and, particularly, the trust between people that make markets work more smoothly and lower the costs of doing business.

Finally, economists have recognised the importance of “natural capital”: the world’s stocks of natural assets, such as geology, soil, air, water and all living things. These natural assets deliver to us “ecosystem services” ranging from pollinating birds and insects, sources of fresh water, forests, marine life, arable soils and various absorbers of wastes.

As a former Treasury secretary, Dr Ken Henry, reminded us in a speech last week, human progress has relied on forms of industrial production, including modern agricultural practices, involving extracting non-renewable raw materials, such as iron ore, coal and gas, and making extensive use of ecosystem services.

Two hundred years ago it was possible to believe that all this economic activity was having no significant impact on our stocks of natural assets and their ecosystem services to us. Today, scientists tell us a very different story – and it’s much easier to see with our own eyes the damage we’ve done.

As Henry puts it, the extraction of non-renewable natural resources for industry has depleted the stock of natural capital directly. But it has also had an indirect impact. Most obviously, the burning of fossil fuels has damaged the atmosphere, the total supply of water in all its forms, and the earth’s surface, in a set of complex processes we call climate change.

But that’s not our only contribution to the degradation of natural capital. Because the industrial rate of use of ecosystem services has exceeded nature’s capacity to regenerate for at least several centuries, the stock of natural capital has been depleted – just as machines used in production depreciate more rapidly if worked harder and not properly maintained.

The depletion of natural capital over time reduces its capacity to supply ecosystem services that are critical to production. For example, soil fertility, the availability of well-watered farming land, and capacity of the atmosphere and the land to absorb the waste left by economic activity have all fallen over time.

“A degraded biosphere [of land and air] affords less protection from fire, droughts, floods and storms, all of which are growing in incidence and severity because of human-induced atmospheric change,” Henry says.

Wait, there’s more. The depletion of natural capital also reduces “environmental amenity” – our enjoyment of being out in nature. It also imposes adverse cultural impacts on indigenous peoples.

Economists are very aware that, to some extent, labour and physical capital can be substituted for each, one source of energy can be used to replace another, and resources can be used to produce machines that increase what we have available to consume.

These are the reason some economists have dismissed the fear that we have, or could ever, approach the “limits to [economic] growth”.

But Henry’s not convinced. “None of this human ingenuity, nor [physical] capital accumulation, nor increasing work effort has, thus far, done anything to halt the rate at which the stock of natural capital is being depleted,” he says.

“To the contrary, new technologies and more [physical] capital-intensive modes of production have accelerated its rate of depletion. And they have done little to reduce the dependence of industry upon the stock of natural capital.”

The distinguished American economist Robert Solow argued that for economic growth to be sustainable, the present generation has a moral obligation to “conduct ourselves so that we leave to the future the option or the capacity to be as well-off as we are”.

But Henry responds that: “The historical loss of natural capital denies us reason to believe that future generations will have the capacity to achieve our level of wellbeing. To put it another way, it would be irrational of us to suppose that we, in this generation, are custodians of sustainable development.”

Wow. He goes on to argue that so much has been lost, and with such serious consequences, a consensus has emerged that we must now commit to nature repair.

Have you heard of “nature positive”? It means halting and reversing nature loss, so that species and ecosystems start to recover.

Henry says the nature positive position “argues that for some time, perhaps generations, we must seek to restore environmental condition, understanding that without doing so, we cannot be confident that future generations will have the capacity to be as well-off”.

Wow. This is radical stuff. And it’s coming not from some Greens senator, but from a former Treasury secretary and former chair of the National Australia Bank.

In an interview in April, Henry said the Albanese government should establish a public fund to spur corporate involvement in nature positive protection and repair. The cost would be enormous, he admitted.

A last thing to surprise you. The world’s first global nature positive summit will be held in Sydney in early October. It will be hosted by the federal Minister for the Environment, Tanya Plibersek.

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'Planetary boundaries' set the limits of economic freedom

One of the most important developments in economics is something in which economists had no hand: the identification of the environmental limits which humans, busily producing and consuming, cross at their peril.

Earth has existed for about 4 billion years and humans have lived on Earth for about 200,000 years. For almost all of that time we were hunters and gatherers, but 10,000 to 12,000 years ago we settled down, to farm and create civilisation.

It’s probably no coincidence that, for about that time, Earth has enjoyed a stable climate, with no more ice ages nor period of great heat, in which palms grew in Antarctica. This is the geological epoch called the Holocene, in which we live – although it may be ruled that we’ve moved to the Anthropocene, a new epoch in which the human species has made major alterations to the planet.

In its modern form, economics can be dated to 1776, when Adam Smith published The Wealth of Nations. Beliefs about how the economy works were well-defined by the time Alfred Marshall published Principles of Economics in 1890.

The point is that all economic activity – all the efforts of humans to earn a living – both depends on the natural environment and adversely affects it. By 1900, there were only about 1.6 billion humans on the planet, not enough to do much damage.

If we wrecked some area, we could just move to somewhere that hadn’t been wrecked, while the first bit gradually recovered.

So, at the time conventional economics was established, it was perfectly sensible to assume that the environment’s role in economic activity could be taken for granted. It was just there and it always would be. It was, as economists say, a “free good”.

When, from the 1700s, we started burning fossil fuel – coal, oil and gas – for heat, light and energy, we had no reason to worry that one day it might run out. It certainly never occurred to us that this might end up having an effect on the climate.

It took many decades before scientists began telling us that all the things we were doing to improve our lives – cutting down forests, damming rivers, drilling for water, ploughing, fertilising crops, fishing with nets – were damaging the soil, causing erosion, killing species, lowering the water table, and damaging the environment in other ways.

However, in just the past century or so, the world’s population has gone from 1.6 billion to 8 billion. Every extra human does a bit more damage to the environment. But that’s not the main thing. The main thing that’s changed is our use of advances in technology to hugely increase our standard of living and, in the process, massively increase the damage we’re doing to the environment.

Which brings us to “planetary boundaries”. In 2009, the Swedish scientist Johan Rockstrom and a scientist from the Australian National University, the late Will Steffen, with many helpers, established a framework listing the key categories of environmental damage, and estimating the amount of damage that could be done to each before the risk increased that “the Earth system” could no longer recover.

A second update of these estimates, led by an American oceanographer based in Copenhagen, Katherine Richardson, was released last month. With the ANU’s Professor Xuemei Bai, Richardson has written an article explaining the planetary boundaries.

There are nine boundaries. Three of them cover what we take from the ecological system: loss of biodiversity (extinction of species), loss of fresh water (pumping too much water from rivers and aquifers) and land use (deforestation).

Something economists didn’t know – or didn’t realise affected them – is that the laws of physics say we can never truly get rid of anything that exists on Earth.

All we – or the ecosystem – can do is change the form of the thing. Water can evaporate, but it’s still up in the clouds, for instance. We can cut down a tree, but as it slowly sinks into the dirt, it releases the carbon dioxide it had previously taken up.

This means that all our economic activity leaves in its wake a lot of waste. Not just landfill, but in many other forms.

So, the remaining six boundaries concern the waste our activity greatly adds to what would have occurred naturally. They are: greenhouse gases which cause climate change, ocean acidification (carbon absorbed by the sea), emission of chemicals that deplete the Earth’s ozone layer, “novel entities” (synthetic chemicals such as plastics, DDT and concrete), aerosols, and nutrient overload (nitrogen and phosphorus from fertilisers that wash into rivers and the sea, causing algae blooms, killing fish and coral).

Crossing any of these boundaries doesn’t trigger immediate disaster. But it does mean we’ve moved from the safe zone into dangerous territory. And the nine boundaries are interrelated and interacting, in ways we don’t yet fully understand.

In 2009, the scientists found we’d already crossed three boundaries: biodiversity, climate change and nutrient overload. By the 2015 update, a fourth boundary had been crossed: land use.

And by this year’s update, only three boundaries hadn’t been crossed: ocean acidification (but only just), aerosol pollution, and stratospheric ozone depletion – where an international agreement banning CFCs is slowly reducing the ozone hole we created.

Richardson and Bai say we’re now well into the danger zone, “where we – as well as every other species – are now at risk”. “We are eating away at our own life support systems,” they say.

One thing to be said for economists is that, unlike some, they don’t try to tell scientists how to do their job. Very few economists dispute the scientists’ evidence that climate change has been caused by human activities.

It was economists who developed the best means to reduce carbon emissions – emission trading schemes – which other countries have adopted, but Australia rejected.

When our governments decide to act on the other planetary boundaries, it will be economists who work out the best way to do it.

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Squaring the world's waste circle ain't that easy

If you think we’ve been standing still – even going backwards – on reconciling the economy with the natural environment, that’s not wholly true. While our refusal to get real on climate change drags on, we’ve started our journey to the nirvana of a “circular economy”.

Never heard the term? Heard of it, but not sure what it means? Really? It’s the great intellectual fashion statement of 2018.

And, since it has more merit than I suspect many of its advocates realise, we must hope it doesn’t fall out of fashion long before it’s done any good.

Governments around the world are doing things about it. Mainly, saying what a nice idea it is, writing reports and designing “road maps”.

The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development has taken up the cause in its RE-CIRCLE project. And no lesser bunch of worthies than the World Economic Forum (the Davos brigade) is enthusiastic.

Here in Oz, last year saw a favourable report from a Senate committee. The Victorian, South Australian and NSW governments have recently signalled their support, with the latter issuing a “circular economy policy statement” in October.

Some of my information comes from an explainer by the Victorian Parliamentary Library, written as recently as October. Circularity is hot, hot, hot.

The explainer explains that, as presently organised, market economies are linear. You take natural resources, process them into many and varied goods – from food to fancy electronic gizmos – which you and I consume before eventually disposing of them. Then we take more natural resources and start the process again.

In contrast, the goal of a circular economy is to keep natural resources in use for as long as possible, extract the maximum value from them while in use, then recover and regenerate products and materials at the end of their serviceable life.

Get it? The ultimate goal is to “decouple” economic growth from the consumption of natural resources.

The OECD points out that, over the last century, global use of raw materials grew at almost twice the rate that the population grew.

To minimise the – to some extent irreparable - damage that economic activity does to the natural environment, we need to ensure it involves less net use of natural resources.

The idea that natural resources should be recycled is one Australians – and people throughout the rich world – happily embraced ages ago. Almost all of us divide our garbage between recycling and the rest before we put it out.

But the concept of a truly circular economy requires us to go a lot further than that. We need to repair the durable products we use rather than throwing them out and buying another.

But that means changing the design of those products from disposable to repairable – and upgradeable. It means making much greater use of recycled materials in the manufacture of “new” products, as well as doing something sensible about all that packaging.

In my limited reading of all the circular economy bumf, I haven’t seen it explained that the basic problem arises from the first law of thermodynamics, which says that matter can be transformed from one form to another, but can be neither created nor destroyed.

In other words, something has to happen to all the natural resources we use to produce and consume. They don’t cease to exist, they just change form. They turn into multiple forms of waste, which we dispose of down the sewer and in landfill.

One important form of waste created by the economic process – particularly if it involves burning fossil fuels – is the emission of greenhouse gases. For more than 200 years we couldn’t see this happening, so we didn’t think it was a problem.

Now we know the gases hang around in the upper atmosphere, trap the earth’s heat from the sun like the roof of a greenhouse, and raise the earth’s temperature.

When you consider how much trouble we’re having agreeing on a solution to that small part of our waste problem, don’t kid yourself dealing with the rest of the waste will be a simple matter of everyone seeing the light and doing the right thing with a bit of encouragement from the government.

What worries me about the circular-economy push is not the objective – it’s dead right - it’s the naivety of those doing the pushing. They want to radically transform the economy, but haven’t seen the need to consult any economists about how you might go about it.

All the governments know better, of course, but they seem to have decided that, as long as it stays on the level of appealing to people to Do The Right Thing, it could keep the greenies diverted without doing much harm.

No one seems to have asked the obvious question: just why is the economy presently linear not circular? Answer: because all the powerful economic incentives push us in that direction.

Because the resources the environmentally aware care about – natural resources – are relatively cheap, whereas the resource they don’t think about, but everyone else does, labour, is relatively dear.

Why do you think the nation’s local councils have been taking most of our recycling and shipping it off to China? Because processing that stuff in a rich country like ours is uneconomic.

Why have the Chinese been taking it? Because their wages were low enough to make processing profitable (that is, economic).

Why have the Chinese now stopped taking it? Because their economic success has raised wage rates and made it no longer profitable.

So, how on earth could we make our economy circular?

Ask economists to figure out a plausible way of reversing our incentive structure. That's the kind of job they do when asked.

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We should change the culture of Christmas

Christmas, we're assured, brings out our best selves. We're full of goodwill to all men (and women). We get together with family and friends – even those we don't get on with – eat and drink and give each other presents.

We make an effort for the kiddies. Some of us even get a good feeling out of helping ensure the homeless get a decent feed on the day.

And this magnanimous spirit is owed to The Man Who Invented Christmas, Charles Dickens. (You weren't thinking of someone else, surely?)

According to a new survey of 1421 people, conducted by the Australia Institute, three-quarters of respondents like buying Christmas gifts.

Almost half – 47 per cent – like having people buy them gifts. And 41 per cent don't expect to get presents they'll never use.

Well, isn't that lovely. Merry Christmas, one and all!

Of course, there's a darker, less charitable, more Scrooge-like interpretation of what Christmas has become since A Christmas Carol.

Under the influence of more than a century of relentless advertising and commercialisation – including the soft-drink-company-created Santa – its original significance as a religious holy-day has been submerged beneath an orgy of consumerism, materialism and over-indulgence.

We rush from shop to shop, silently cursing those of our rellos who are hard to buy for. We attend party after party, stuffing ourselves with food and drinking more than we should.

All those children who can't wait to get up early on Christmas morning and tear open their small mountain of presents are being groomed as the next generation of consumerists. Next, try the joys of retail therapy, sonny.

But the survey also reveals a (growing?) minority of respondents who don't enjoy the indulgence and wastefulness of Christmas.

A fifth of respondents – more males than females – don't like buying gifts for people at Christmas. Almost a third expect to get gifts they won't use and 42 per cent – far more males and females – would prefer others not to buy them gifts.

The plain fact is that a hugely disproportionate share of economic activity – particularly consumer spending – occurs in one month of the year, December.

And just think of all the waste – not just the over-catering, but all the clothes and gadgets that sit around in cupboards until they're thrown out. All the stuff that could be returned to the store, but isn't.

At least the new practice of regifting helps. Unwanted gifts are passed from hand to hand, rather like an adult game of pass-the-parcel, until someone summons the moral courage to throw them out.

Still, buying things that don't get used is a good way to create jobs and improve the lives of Australians, no?

Not really. The survey finds only 23 per cent of respondents agree with this sentiment, while 62 per cent disagree.

One change since Scrooge's day is that those who worry most about waste – at Christmas or any other time – do so not for reasons of miserliness, but because of the avoidable cost to the natural environment.

Rich people like us need to reduce our demands on the environment to make room for the poorer people of the world to lift their material standard of living without our joint efforts wrecking the planet.

This doesn't require us to accept a significantly lower standard of living, just move to an economy where our energy comes from renewable sources and our use of natural resources – renewable and non-renewable – is much less profligate.

This is the thinking behind the book Curing Affluenza, by the Australia Institute's chief economist – and instigator of the survey – Dr Richard Denniss.

He says we can stay as materialists (lovers of things) so long as we give up being consumerists (lovers of buying new things). We can love our homes and cars and clothes and household equipment – so long as that love means we look after them, maintain and repair them, and delay replacing them for as long as we reasonably can.

The survey shows we're most likely to repair cars, bikes and tools and gardening equipment, but least likely to repair clothing, shoes and kitchen appliances, such as blenders, toasters and microwaves.

What would encourage us to get more things repaired? Almost two-thirds of respondents would do more if repairs were covered by a warranty. More than 60 per cent would do more if repairs were cheaper. And 46 per cent if repairs were more convenient – which I take to mean if it was easier to find a repairer.

How about making repair work cheaper by removing the 10 per cent goods and services tax on it? Two-thirds support the idea; only 19 per cent oppose.

Point is, there are straight-forward things the government could do to encourage us to repair more and waste less. Were it to do so, this would help restore older attitudes in favour of repairing rather than replacing.

Trouble is, politicians tend to be followers rather than leaders on such matters. So the first thing we need is a shift in the culture that makes more of us more conscious of the damage our everyday consumption is doing to the environment. That putting out the recycling once a week ain't enough.

We could start by changing the culture of Christmas.

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