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Christmas Comes Late

Or, How I learned to stop worrying and love climate change

By Daniel E. Herz-roiphe

Jan. 6, 2007 was a day that shall live in infamy. Or maybe not. In the dead of a New England winter, Harvard students awoke to golden sunshine, gentle breezes, and temperatures in the high 60s, donned shorts and t-shirts, and emerged from their beds to a peculiar scene. The Yard was littered with sunbathers, Frisbee games, and even an impromptu barbeque. It was awesome.

Yet the jubilation was mixed with a palpable sense of apprehension coaxed out of hibernation by the unseasonable heat. To what did we, the warm, owe our good fortune? Was this day the product of God, or of man?

Anxieties about climate change make good weather in winter a cause for concern, as well as for celebration. Climatologists frequently warn against making judgments on the plausibility of global warming based on anecdotal experiences of hot or cold weather, but as I basked in the sunlight of Saturday’s bizarre version of a winter wonderland, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Visions of my family’s Manhattan apartment submerged by the swelling sea ran through my brain.

But warmth can only be chilling for so long. Perhaps Saturday’s strange weather was a manifestation of a global phenomenon that may one day end life on earth as we know it. Perhaps it wasn’t. Either way, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of casual indifference to civilization’s impending doom. A beautiful day in the middle of January is like a baby lion: it may become dangerous, but for now it’s just lots of fun. At the moment, global warming doesn’t seem so bad. If this warm streak keeps up, it will dramatically improve my college experience.

My dubious optimism is not unique. No one actually seemed that worried. And why not? It’s hard to contemplate uncertain, distant apocalyptic scenarios when it’s so nice outside. Climate change may have some unfortunate long-term consequences, but then again, as John Maynard Keynes said, “in the long run we are all dead.” Poised at a precipice, we cannot help but enjoy the view.

Perhaps Harvard should embrace global warming. Weather could become one of Cambridge’s major selling points. While Duke languishes amidst newly intensified tropical storms, Harvard will enjoy 70-degree weather in January. Who would ever want to go anywhere else? Polar ice caps may melt, but it was, after all, a Harvard graduate who reminded us that “a rising tide lifts all boats.”

Daniel E. Herz-Roiphe ’10, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Straus Hall.

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