COVID-19 has had profound impacts locally and globally. It has prompted unprecedented policy responses around the world. And further major geopolitical, economic and social impacts seem likely. But the overall consequences of public health emergencies, even pandemics, are modest compared to the threats humanity faces from the ongoing failure to live within safe planetary boundaries. 

Consider briefly how COVID-19 and climate change compare. The former poses an immediate threat; it demands mostly short-term policy responses. Climate change, by comparison, will generate significant and ongoing threats across multiple generations. Reducing these threats requires immediate, but also sustained, policy responses. Yet even if greenhouse gas emissions are cut drastically over coming decades, humanity will have no choice but to adapt to the many damaging impacts of climate change. And adaptation will need to continue for hundreds of years. This is a terrible prospect.

To be sure, COVID-19 can kill many people. But the death toll from climate change will be much greater. More importantly, it undermines the capacity to preserve life – both human and non-human. 

COVID-19 can be suppressed, if not eliminated, presuming an effective vaccine can be found. But no vaccine can help humanity mitigate or adapt to climate change; nor is there a ready cure for policy inaction and government failure. 

In short, COVID-19 and climate change differ in significant ways. Yet they also have notable similarities. These, in turn, have major implications for public policy.

First, both COVID-19 and climate change are powerful societal disruptors; they generate non-linear changes and non-incremental shocks; and they are risk multipliers. From a policy perspective, they serve as powerful ‘focussing events’ and ‘critical junctures’. While posing huge political risks, they also create remarkable opportunities for policy reform.

Second, they are both fundamentally science-based problems. In each case effective technical solutions and sensible policy responses depend upon reliable scientific evidence from multiple disciplines. Hence, both highlight the critical role of public investment in research, monitoring, and reporting – and, equally, the need for governmental transparency, openness and honesty. Similarly, both require technological innovations. But their implementation depends upon robust public services and infrastructure – whether educational, digital or physical.

Third, COVID-19 and climate change highlight the importance of governmental preparedness and precautionary interventions. Delays are costly – indeed tragic. Accordingly, effective responses need robust long-term thinking and sound anticipatory governance. The latter includes the capacity to identify weak signals early, assess risks, develop risk management strategies, implement pro-active measures, and build societal resilience. More specifically, both phenomenaillustrate the critical role of governments in protecting biosecurity, biosafety and public health. This, in turn, depends on robust systems and processes, but also wise leadership.

Fourth, both problems are quintessentially global. They underscore humanity’s utter interdependence – economically and socially. For effective responses international cooperation and solidarity are pivotal. Yet, equally, both problems highlight the weaknesses and limitations of our current international institutions, and the capacity of the major powers, especially China and the United States, to thwart global solutions. In so doing, they reveal the fragility and vulnerability of our digital civilization, and the poverty of global leadership.

In the quest for effective policy measures to mitigate climate change, the COVID-19 pandemic offers two hopeful lessons. First, with sufficient political will, extraordinary policy interventions are possible. Second, rapid and widespread behavioural change is achievable if there are compelling reasons, coupled with bold leadership and consistent political messaging. 

Against this, troubling lessons are also apparent. The pandemic suggests that effective policy responses to climate change will not be implemented until humanity faces sufficiently compelling and urgent threats (e.g. the immediate risk of mass fatalities or large-scale property losses). Recent events also show how easily urgent issues can divert political attention from major long-term issues, narrow the mental bandwidths of decision-makers, and shift the focus of the entire global community. 

Regrettably, COVID-19 offers little hope of a near-term embrace, whether locally or globally, of the policies urgently needed for an environmentally sustainable future. If this conclusion is valid, then the intergenerational implications are truly sobering.

Jonathan Boston is Professor of Public Policy at the Wellington School of Business and Government at the Victoria University of Wellington in New Zealand

 One of the most striking features of the coronavirus pandemic currently sweeping the world is that the disease appears to have far graver consequences for older people than for youth. According to a new study that analyses the effects of coronavirus in China during January and February, the severity of the disease increases markedly as the age of those afflicted rises. In China, victims under 40 faced a fatality rate of less than 0.1 percent, and were far less likely to need hospitalization at all than other patients; victims in their 60s, on the other hand, experienced a fatality rate of about 2 percent, and those over 80 a rate of almost 8 percent. (It’s worth noting, though, that hospitalization and mortality rates for younger people appear to be higher in the U.S. and perhaps other countries.)

Public health officials have as a result faced a challenge in conveying to young people who believe they are unlikely to suffer severe consequences if they contract the virus that they nonetheless need to make sacrifices to protect their elders. Specifically, they have been asked to maintain social distancing and, in many cases, to make significant financial sacrifices as multiple streams of the economy dry up. It’s no wonder that this has not always been an easy sell for public health agencies, and that many news accounts have showcased young people rebelliously gathering at such hotspots as college spring break destinations in Florida, Bondi Beach in Sydney, and even so-called “coronavirus parties.” 

Overall, though, it has been striking to witness how calls to maintain social distancing in order to “flatten the curve” and reduce chances of catastrophic collapses in health-care systems have largely been heeded in a sort of demographic solidarity. As teenage climate activist Greta Thunberg tweeted, “We young people are the least affected by this virus but it’s essential that we act in solidarity with the most vulnerable and that we act in the best interest of our common society.”

The coronavirus crisis, then, represents a remarkable mirror image of how intergenerational justice considerations play out around our changing climate. The breakdown of the Earth’s relatively stable climate is a monumental crisis whose costs will be greatest for those who have the most years left to live. It’s impossible to ascribe climate change to any single generation, since both causes and effects have been building for many decades—yet because the causes and likely consequences of climate change have been well known for at least three decades, it is possible to assign especial blame to those who have been in positions of power and privilege during those years. Which means: people who are older now who have consistently favoured short-term goals such as profit and comfort over long-term concerns.

One of the principal arguments of the youth climate movement is that the climate crisis calls for a shift from generational self-interest to intergenerational justice. As Thunberg told assembled world leaders at the United Nations Climate Action Summit last fall: “You are failing us. But the young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you. And if you choose to fail us, I say: We will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this.”

The coronavirus crisis, then, raises important questions about the workings of intergenerational equity and sacrifice. If coronavirus is to be controlled, young people need to give up some freedom and economic opportunity so that the primary beneficiaries—older people—can live. But if the climate crisis can be controlled at all so that today’s young people have a shot at a liveable future, it is those who are in positions of political, economic, and social power today—primarily older people—who need to sacrifice some comfort and profits for the sake of the future. Assuming the coronavirus crisis abates, will world leaders such as President Donald Trump in the U.S. and Prime Minister Scott Morrison in Australia, both of whom have been very friendly toward fossil fuel interests, finally concede that generational turnabout is fair play, and that they’re willing to foreground the interests of the young?

Peter Friederici is director of the Sustainable Communities Program and a professor in the School of Communication at Northern Arizona University. Peter writes on science and climate communication-among other things. Peter and his family recently visited Tasmania. Corvid 19 meant his visit was shortened, but we are hoping he will write for us again and come back soon.