By Danielle Whitaker

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Let’s face it. Like most of humanity’s troubles, climate change is a man-made problem—and in this case, it wouldn’t be entirely unfair to use that term literally. With men still dominating the vast bulk of power over government, legislation, business, and of course the almighty capitalism, statistically, the “human-caused” factors of climate change are much more so the responsibility of men than of women, and—not surprisingly—affect women more adversely than men.

The crisis facing our planet today is not new; only its symptoms are. The destruction of natural resources, overuse of fossil fuels, and excess of greenhouse gases have been increasing at an alarming rate for some time—but only recently have these effects been recognized as the imminent threat they are. There comes a time when the truth can no longer be contained, and that time has gone.

So why is this reality, and its most promising solutions, so controversial?

Insert dollar sign clipart here.

The truth is, the destruction of the earth is a highly lucrative business—for as long as the earth still exists. As long as a dollar can be made, it will be made at earth’s expense, right up to its dying day—if those in power have any say. Recent films like Cowspiracy have taken a step further to expose some of the deadliest and most well-hidden contributors to climate change such as animal agriculture, one of the largest industries in the world. Despite government and corporate attempts to suppress these realities, they exist nonetheless, hugely and dangerously, below the metaphorical tip of the iceberg.

As feminists, however, we are no strangers to the repression of truth for the sake of preserving power and dominance.

Climate change is a human problem, undeniably—it affects and will further affect us all in the coming years—but in its midst, women face a unique set of struggles that are too easily overlooked.

As the BBC pointed out last year, climate change impacts women more than men. According to the UN, in fact, 80% of individuals displaced by climate change are women. Think about it: in communities where water and food are collected daily, these jobs generally fall to the women, so when disaster strikes—flooding, drought, disappearing water sources, and continuously expanding dry seasons—women suffer the most. They are forced to work harder to grow food and find water, on top of caring for children and their households.

Add this to the fact that 70% of those living below the poverty line are women, and let’s not forget far more women than men are struggling to raise a child alone, while additionally, women on a global scale hold far less social, economic, and political power overall than men—making it far more challenging for women to recover from both short-term disasters and the long-term effects of climate change. Women who already struggle to maintain jobs and housing may find it impossible after a climate change-related catastrophe.

Hell, even surviving disaster itself is a greater challenge for women than men: three times as many men survived the 2004 tsunami, simply because more men than women had been taught how to swim.

This is no accident.

On a global scale, in every facet of life, men are better equipped to exist in society because society was created for men. From car seats to healthcare to the far reaches of the professional sphere, men are valued as the default, while for women, it’s sink or swim—figuratively and sometimes literally. What do our concerns matter, after all, as long as the men in power retain their position? (As long as there’s a planet to sustain them, that is.)

What’s worse is that, as usual, women’s bodies bear much of the burden. Climate change affects not only the environment and economic systems but also our health, posing a particularly significant risk for pregnant women. Increases in air pollution from fossil fuels and other pollutants have been linked to pregnancy complications, premature births, and lower birth weights. We hear all about what’s happening to the rainforest and scarcely a whisper about the impact on female bodies—but that’s nothing new, is it?

Especially concerning, to put it lightly, is the coincidental fact that this all comes at a time when women are being erased as a category—legally, socially, and psychologically. We are still here, of course, existing with our vaginas and our oppression, but now we have no language to name ourselves, and thus no means of naming the specific problems we face. In fact, in many parts of the world already, we can now be arrested and charged for daring to name our physical reality. Even bowing to trans activist demands and branding ourselves “cis women” for the right to discuss our specific oppression is considered “transphobic.” If “women” do not exist as a definable class, how do we begin to address climate change, or anything else, from a feminist perspective? Displaced women who at one time would’ve benefited from women’s shelters will now be housed alongside men, eradicating the safety that these shelters were created to provide. Increased cases of violence against women after disasters are already a documented reality, and many shelters are already unequipped with the necessary resources to accommodate female inhabitants, such as tampons and pads.

If any man can count himself in the class of female, these disadvantages will only worsen, and statistics like the ones noted earlier will become nonexistent. These problems will become invisible, unnameable, and unsolvable.

So what the hell do we do about it?

I am tempted to say I’ve found a source of hope in young climate activist Greta Thunberg, the Swedish teen who’s made headlines around the world for her outspoken dedication to fighting climate change—but Greta doesn’t want our hope. Greta wants action, and so do I.

In her own words:

I don’t want you to be hopeful. I want you to panic. I want you to feel the fear I feel every day, and then I want you to act.

Hope is an honorable sentiment, and a necessary one. But it is no substitute for action—and we need to act. We cannot underestimate the power of grassroots initiatives like Greta’s school strike, which gained international recognition, sparking extensive press coverage and forcing conversations—the very catalysts of change. Let us not forget that we can organize strikes, too. We too can stand in the streets with handwritten signs and demand to be heard. We can write to our legislators, write to the media, organize petitions, start volunteering and never shut up.

In conclusion, sisters, we have to keep on keepin’ on as the important half of the human species that we are. It is an illusion that women’s lives don’t matter. Every single human on the earth was gestated, nourished and dependent upon a woman’s body for life. Patriarchy seeks to control this power, but it is not men’s power to control, it is ours, and it is time we unleash it in its full fury to stop the male violence causing global climate change.

Next month, tune into WLRN’s 39th monthly podcast centering around the effects of climate change on women across the globe. Hear from Leah Horowitz, Professor of Civil Society and Community Studies at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, as well as Joni Seager, Professor of Global Studies at Bentley University in Massachusetts, as we discuss the environmental issues facing women and how we can fight back. As always, thank you for reading, listening, and supporting!