The Accent of Power

Last month I experienced perhaps my most interesting level of policymaker access to date when I was asked to speak at an embassy in the UK. Some 13 or 15 diplomats from across a large region were in attendance. They had not asked me per se to speak but they had approached our national office in that country. Two freshwater staffers were planning on going, and I was going to be arriving that morning in London on the day of the meeting. So my colleagues asked me to come speak as well.

With an express train from Heathrow, a quick shower and some fresh trout at a friend's home, and a dash through the Tube, I appeared only 15 minutes before I was scheduled to speak. I was ushered into the back of a long room with high classical ceilings and sternly dressed men and women at a long table, with servants moving in the narrow spaces between the seats and the walls with plates of food. I was glad I had on my dark suit and shuffled down one long side to the far corner near the current speaker, and tried to settle in. A man kept asking me if I wanted tea or coffee and thrusting pastries at me. He and I both felt a bit intrusive. I was very aware that I was outside of my cultural zone, that English was not the first language here, and that the U.S. was not viewed in a friendly way by most of the attendees.

I sat next to the very smooth and polished 45-ish ambassador who had invited us. Whispering close, she graciously introduced herself, pointed at the food, and then turned to the small projection screen almost directly across the table from me to attend to my colleague's presentation. He was talking mostly about freshwater conservation as a general topic and was near the end of his slides. He finished, then introduced me and took questions from the audience. They were polite, very measured and circumspect in their questions — almost distant. Considering none of them were speaking in their birth language, they were all obviously very advanced English speakers.

One of the diplomats from what could be described as an emerging regional superpower said, I am tired of these people from Europe and the U.S. coming to tell us what to do with climate change. What are they doing in their countries? Are they not busy enough in their own countries than to come talk to us? His pride and anger were strong but also a bit stilted, as if he had delivered a set piece speech he had planned all morning and could now relax. An older man from a famously stylish country, perhaps less confrontationally, said, There is much in what you say. And I worry too that people come to us and always talk about China and India .... as if these are the only standards for emerging economies, or the most important.

The three of us who had come to speak all felt a little chastened. I spoke up for the first time. Please, let me begin with some apologies. As you can tell from my accent, I am from North America — from the country that has done so much to cause climate change to date and for the near future. And I am fully aware that we in the U.S. have been slow to alter our ways and take responsibility for the debt we owe the rest of the world. That said, it is certain that change is coming in the U.S., as soon as this November. And any of the options will be an improvement over the past eight years. I'd also like to say that we have come not to talk about climate mitigation but climate adaptation — to talk about what we all need to do to respond to the effects of climate change that have already been felt and that our children and grandchildren will do. We come to you because we know that climate change has altered the way all of us should be developing our economies and saving species. So we don't come to ask you to "do" certain things because we say so. We come to share and to learn how all of us can adapt to our shifting climate.

Lastly, I'd like to make a more specific apology. I found out about this talk just a few days ago, and I asked my wife, Should I use examples in my talk from the region where these diplomats are from, or should I give examples from other places. She said, You'll cause an international incident if you give examples from this area. Just talk about China and India. And sadly I have taken her advice.

Happily, the older diplomat smiled and laughed and shruggingly said, See? It is always this way.

I then gave the talk that I had prepared on the flight over. The point was very simple — climate change has already altered freshwater, and much more change was coming. That it would be hard to predict the effects of these changes with much certainty. That there would be definite winners and losers climatically in this region.

Their faces were fascinating. Although I tried to keep the discussion relatively light in tone, the subject was quite serious, and I could see many serious and furrowed brows. They looked hard at me, but not in an antagonistic way. They looked at me as someone who was delivering a message that I had no pleasure in giving. I hope they heard a resonance of concern and sympathy too.

A few questions followed. What might happen here? Could you come talk in our country? What kinds of support can you provide?

The second of my colleagues then gave his talk, focusing on transboundary water issues — water bodies that span borders and thus have the potential to foment antagonistic uses of these systems. His talk was excellent. They paid close attention.

Afterwards, some of the diplomats stood around and chatted with us. They seemed grateful for our attendance, as far as I could tell. But they are diplomats, careful of speech and subtle in phrasing. I wondered if we had made any real impact. I thought, here could be a pinnacle of my work to date — a young scientist, not yet a year after my defense, speaking to people who mention "my president" when they mean, "my friend, the president, with whom I'm dining next week." Access like that is rare, something that seemed very far away to me in my career. And here I was.

The awe of the audience and situation arose again as we prepared to leave. One man who had been both very quiet and very attentive came up to me and said, I am from a very small country. Have you been there yet? he asked No, I must admit that I haven't. I have visited a neighbor of yours. I would like very much to visit your nation. He nodded, perhaps a little apologetically. Humble of his country's small position even in the region. Well, he said, I must say I like your accent. And with no discernable nationality, we shook hands.



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