The Conversation - Joshua Conrad Jackson | Michele Gelfand
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| When people feel threatened, they’re more receptive to politicians who espouse xenophobic rhetoric. Trybex/Shutterstock.com |
Two
trends have defined the past decade and both have been on display at
this year’s session of the United Nations General Assembly.
One has been the escalating effects of climate change, which were the focus of the United Nations’
Climate Action Summit.
Forest fires,
floods and
hurricanes
are all rising in their frequency and severity. Eight of the last 10
years have been the warmest on record. Marine biologists warned that
coral reefs in the U.S. could disappear entirely by the 2040s.
The other trend has been the
surge of right-wing nationalist politics across Western nations, which includes Donald Trump’s election in the U.S., and the rise of nationalist political parties around the world.
Indeed, the first four speeches of the United Nations general debate
were given
by Brazilian right-wing populist Jair Bolsonaro, Trump, Egyptian
dictator Abdel Fattah el-Sisi and far-right Turkish President Recep
Erdogan.
These two trends are rarely discussed together. When they are, their
correlation is sometimes viewed as an unfortunate coincidence, since
many nationalist politicians
actively obstruct climate change solutions.
However,
our new research
suggests that these two trends may be closely related, and not in the
way you might think. The effects of climate change – and the way it
makes societies feel threatened – may be one of the elements fueling the
rise of right-wing nationalism.
How climate shapes culture
To understand how climate shapes culture, it’s important to step away
from current events and consider the way the climate has influenced
societies throughout human history.
Cultures can vary in what’s called their “
tightness” – the strictness or flexibility of their rules and traditions, and the severity of their punishments for rule breakers.
The Fellahin people of Egypt,
for example, were one of the tightest cultures that we analyzed. For
centuries, they’ve enforced strict gender norms and strong expectations
for how children should be raised.
When cultures feel threatened – whether by war, disease or economic upheaval – they tend to become tighter.
But ecological threats can be just as strongly connected to tightening.
In one analysis, we showed
that rates of famine and land scarcity predicted cultural tightness in
historical societies. The Fellahin people have faced a constant threat
of flooding, and have endured frequent earthquakes, sand storms and
rockslides.
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| The Fellahin have weathered centuries of environmental disaster. Brooklyn Museum |
Centuries of climate catastrophe can also predict differences in the cultural tightness in societies today.
In another study we found that nations that have endured the highest rates of drought, food scarcity, natural disaster and climate instability have the tightest cultures today.
Even within the U.S., the states most vulnerable to climate disasters have the tightest cultures.
A 2014 study
found that states like Texas, Oklahoma and Alabama – which have the
highest criminal execution rates and corporal punishment rates in
schools – also have the highest historical rates of natural disasters
such as tornadoes, floods and hurricanes.
Evolutionary analyses
suggest that cultural tightness can be functional – even necessary – in
the face of climate disaster. It can make people more cooperative, and
more likely to follow protocols, like rationing, during a drought.
But our latest studies examined a darker side of cultural tightness.
We wanted to know whether tightness also made people less tolerant of
minority religions, ethnicities or sexual orientation. In other words,
we explored whether prejudice thrives in tighter societies.
This dynamic would have serious consequences for our understanding of
geopolitical events. If climate anomalies such as hurricanes and forest
fires have a “tightening” effect on cultures – and these catastrophes
are happening more frequently – it might be driving more people toward
politicians who espouse xenophobic, homophobic or racist rhetoric.
Environmental threat and prejudice
To test these ideas, we brought together a group of 19 researchers
from eight different nations. With expertise in economics, psychology
and anthropology,
our team was well-suited to study the effect of environmental threats and culture on prejudice and political nationalism.
We ended up studying 86 historical societies, 25 modern nations and
the 50 U.S. states, analyzing data on more than 3 million people.
The results were strikingly consistent across these populations.
The cultures most vulnerable to climate threats had the strictest
cultural norms, and the highest levels of prejudice against minorities.
For example, in American states with histories of climate threat and
cultural tightness, white respondents reported the highest levels of
aversion to marrying someone who was black, Asian or Hispanic. Turkey
and South Korea had the tightest cultures, and also showed the most
aversion to living near someone who was a different ethnicity, sexuality
or religion.
We next tested whether we could cultivate these social and political
attitudes in a laboratory setting. We recruited 1,000 people from around
the world. We had some write about a threatening event in their
environment, including – but not restricted to – climate. Others wrote
about a threatening event in their personal life. The final group wrote
about what they had for breakfast.
Subjects who wrote about a threatening event in their environment
reported the highest support for stricter societal rules and
regulations. These same people also reported the most prejudice toward
ethnic minorities. This study showed that even brief reminders of an
ecological threat could have an effect on people’s political leanings
and make them less tolerant.
Finally, we explored how these issues tied into modern elections. We
recruited American and French individuals during their respective
countries’ most recent presidential elections.
We found that voters who felt the most threatened were most likely to
support harsher punishments for rule-breakers, more adherence to
traditional norms and expressed the highest levels of prejudice. Voters
who felt threatened were also most likely to vote for Donald Trump and
Marine Le Pen, each of whom ran on law-and-order, anti-immigration
platforms.
One feeds the other
According to just about every estimate, climate change will only
worsen. Without serious and immediate reform, temperatures and sea
levels will continue to rise, along with the risk of destabilizing
climatic events.
The natural perils of climate change are evident to many people
already. But our research underscores a less visible geopolitical peril.
As climate change increases the level of environmental threat, cultures
around the world may become tighter, and the exclusionary rhetoric of
far-right nationalist politicians may sound more and more appealing.
Since far-right nationalists
are notorious for ignoring climate change,
the rise of these politicians may also exacerbate the effects of
environmental threat. This may create a vicious cycle, in which the
threat of climate disaster and far-right nationalism encourage one
another over time.
In this way, bipartisan action on climate change may not just be
necessary to save the environment. It may also be an important way to
ensure values like free speech and tolerance are preserved in countries
and cultures around the world.
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