Director Josh Fox preaches to the choir

There’s a surprising amount of dance sequences in “How to Let
Go of the World and Love All the Things Climate Can’t Change,” at least for
what you’d expect to find in a climate change documentary. But those unexpected
departures are characteristic of director Josh Fox’s methods.

Oscar-nominated for his anti-fracking documentary, “Gasland,” Fox has a gift for side-stepping the
gloom-and-doom that arises from most discussions about climate change to
pinpoint the most unpredictable (and effective) ways to inspire people to
action. City talked with Fox about the relationship between art and politics,
cultivating change, and why preaching to the choir isn’t such a bad thing. The
following is an edited transcript of that conversation.

City: Your film covers a range of environmental concerns.
Was your aim to make an all-encompassing examination of the climate crisis, or
did it start with a narrow focus and expand as you went on?

Josh Fox: I think I chose to make a film about the
issue of climate change, but didn’t really know where I was gonna
go with it. The film is a true investigation; it’s not an essay. I think a lot
of the time when someone makes an “issue” film, it becomes an exercise in
rereading the contents of one’s own mind. They know where they’re going before
they get there. I don’t do that. I just pick a question that’s really bothering
me, and continue to ask about it. And if I run out of questions I stop, or I
have to change the question.

This film starts off as an investigation into climate change
and what we can do about it. And I quickly find out the information on climate
change that I was seeking is so bad, and we are so far away from where we
should be in dealing with this question. We should have been working on this 25
years ago. We’ve already gotten to a place where a lot of the things we think
of as the worst elements of climate change, it’s already too late to solve.

That’s the moment when the film really sort of takes off. And
what I realize is that we’re in for some really serious, negative aspects of
climate change — that human beings are going to be navigating the most intense
period of change that our species has ever encountered. Worsening extreme
storms, worsening drought, worsening floods, 5 to 9 meters of sea level rise,
the death of 30 to 50 percent of the species on the planet, mass migration of
800 million climate refugees, climate wars. These are things that are
incredibly depressing and upsetting, and we ask ourselves, “Well, what are the
things that climate can’t change? How do we find a moral and ethical roadmap
through these issues and through these problems?” And that ends up becoming the
throughline of the film.

And those are our civic virtues — our principles — and we
talk about them in different contexts as I travel around the world seeking
people and communities who are leaders in this climate struggle worldwide. How
does a person psychically absorb these issues that are so angering and so
upsetting and still carry on without becoming numb but adapt a sense of humanity
and grace?

A lot of what you describe is something I hear from
climate activists a lot. That they care so much about this issue and work so
hard on it, and they see the challenge that faces the world. Was it your
intention to respond to what people call “climate burnout” or did it just sort
of happen that way?

I don’t know if it’s burnout. It’s very hard to work on
something when there’s no way to fix it. A friend of mine used to say, “If
there’s no solution, there’s no problem.” And I don’t think I come at it with
an activist point of view — I kind of hate the word activist. I come from the
point of view of a person who just works on the things that are in front of me.
I’m a citizen; I’m a participant. I think most people define their lives
apolitically because there isn’t that sense of the duty of civic participation.
So I think for those of us who do act, it’s very, very tough. You’re going to
encounter a lot of things that are very challenging. So the film comes from
that perspective. And it also comes from the perspective of a person who just
had a major victory, but realizing that even with that victory against
fracking, climate change can still destroy everything I love. So then what do
you do? How do you walk forward in that way?

Essentially I think there’s a big gap between people who know
and understand what’s going on with the climate in a deep sense, and people who
don’t. People who understand what’s happening with the climate are in a
universe where you see the consequences of our actions. People see that we are gonna be causing an enormous amount of upheaval, and it
does become like an obsession of “How do we start to work on this and act on
this in a responsible way?” And I think that’s a lot to carry around; it’s a
heavy burden. So yes, in many ways I made this film for the activists and for
the people who are most deeply involved, because that’s sort of who I am. At
the same time, I think that people who are not super involved in climate change
can see what’s going on in this film and become deeply inspired by the ways
that people work in it. That’s my hope, anyway.

Do you think your film is more likely to encourage people
to work on adaptation or on addressing the fundamental issues that are driving
climate change?

Well, that depends on what you think the fundamental issues
that are driving climate change are. If you think what’s driving climate change
is carbon dioxide emissions, you’re gonna act in one
way, and if you think that what’s driving climate change is the values that
underpin our system, then you’re going to operate in another way, you know? And
I think for this movie we deal with both. I think people have to do what
they’re most passionate, and most enthusiastic, and most motivated by. Because
if you do what you love, you do it for longer. You do it in a more enthusiastic
and extreme way.

I think a lot of the climate dialogue has been based on
science and kind of dry pronouncements from climate scientists, and I wanted to
give this whole spin a human face. I wanted to say that this is not just about
molecules of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, this is about people. Climate
change is not about polar bears, it’s about people. And I wanted to show those
human stories in a way that was going to arouse a sense of compassion and get people
really fired up to act.

But moviemaking and political campaigns are two different
things. We don’t say in the film “This is what you must do to act,” because art
is about questions, and politics is about answers. And in the film, art is
superior. A lot of people get that backwards. I don’t want to be told what to
do or what to think by a movie. I want to feel that arc of understanding that’s
both political and emotional at the same time. So I think the film will inspire
different kinds of actions, and I think that’s a good thing. I think it will
inspire people to work with their local direct-action groups — like 350 or
Break Free. We have civil disobedience in the film as one of the core ethics.
But I think it will also inspire people to go back to church and be more
reflective. I think it will inspire people to go to their local Buddhist
meditation center and meditate on these things. My hope is that it will inspire
people to hit the dance club and work on their dance moves.

There can sometimes be a sense that the people who seek
out an issue-oriented film like this are already inclined to support its
message. Does that affect your approach? How do you ensure you’re not only
preaching to the choir, but getting your film and its ideas in front of more
ideologically diverse audiences?

Well, I am preaching to the choir. But I want the choir out
of the church. The truth is I don’t mind preaching to the choir. The truth of
the matter is that there’s enough of the choir to fix the problem. My problem
is when the choir stays in the church. I don’t mind the choir singing, as long
as they sing on the steps of the capitol building, or they sing at the concert
for the protest. That’s where the choir ought to be. The choir’s our smartest,
most educated, and most awake people. The challenge now is how that choir
affects the situation politically. There’s a reason we have a choir, because
you’ve gotta sing. We want people to sing. I’m taking
your metaphor a little bit far here, but there’s something important about it.

So political change doesn’t come from convincing Donald Trump
that he’s wrong, it comes from being more powerful than Donald Trump. And we
are more powerful than Donald Trump. I truly believe that. Human virtue and common
sense, understanding, community, and love. I think love will beat hatred every
time. And the film has a lot to say about that. So I don’t know if I agree with
the whole mischaracterization of preaching to the choir as wrong. I think
someone’s got to preach to the choir, and the choir’s got to sing back.

This article appears in Jun 15-21, 2016.