Today we are surrounded by more information than we can process, and we are drawn to stories that align with what we want to be true. That has dire consequences during pandemics, when we rely on scientific data to save lives. Unfortunately, most humans don’t change their minds when confronted with facts, which is the primary education tactic for people in the sciences.
I had hoped my first bout with COVID-19 (during 2024’s “FLiRT” variants) would be my last. Unfortunately, 2025’s “Nimbus” caught up with me, landing me on the couch for many hours with nothing to do but research my adversary. It is more important than ever that we understand these increasingly transmissible COVID-19 variants, especially in an age of decreasingly reliable information online.
As we enter July, it is once again time to examine our relationship with plastic (which permeates so much of our daily lives and this blog already). While it can be difficult to find alternatives to plastic, especially in food packaging, it is important to understand how some so-called alternatives can be harmful (or not really be alternatives at all).
Every homeowner has to battle termites at one point or another, in one way or another. The only thing notable about our situation is the stubborn public health professional and organic gardener who refuses to allow bee-killing pesticides on her property. After some research and a couple informed conversations, we revisited a method we tried several years ago — with better results after following the instructions.
I’m trying to transition my wardrobe and home goods to all natural fibers, retiring items that have reached the end of their useful lives and buying responsibly to replace what I have to, when I have to. Although I probably could have managed with my uncomfortable pillow for a while longer, political events accelerated my switch to a comfortable and sustainable buckwheat hull pillow.
It’s not the end, but it is an end. The final debrief of our year together in the Climate Lab was bittersweet and carried with it intentions to pay our lessons forward into the world – collaborating with each other, if possible. For my part, I want to continue bridging gaps in knowledge and perspectives to co-create more equitable solutions to the climate crisis.
We’re taught that recycling is a good thing, and doing it makes us feel responsible. In reality, there are serious limitations to recycling’s benefits when it comes to certain materials, especially plastics – even begging the question if new processes, such as “chemical recycling” are even possible. Unfortunately the plastic industry is banking on our trust, including when it comes to “recycling” fabrics.
Affordability often comes with a price somewhere in the supply chain. In the case of instant noodles, it could be deforestation for ingredients and oil extraction for packaging long before the noodles hit the store and/or adverse health outcomes long after they hit the stomach. Nevertheless, this invention was an unexpected marvel that buoyed the Japanese economy and still supports disaster relief efforts worldwide.
Good travel puts us outside our comfort zone and broadens our perspectives. Our trip to Okinawa in the Climate Lab connected us with government officials, entrepreneurs, researchers, and community volunteers – people working on the issue of climate change from different angles. A conversation with the former Vice Governor of the prefecture helped me better understand ways we can build bridges across professional islands.
Travels with the Climate Lab took me to Okinawa for the first (but hopefully not last) time. This Japanese prefecture (and former kingdom in its own right) is an absolute melting pot of cultures, disciplines, and functions in society. For someone who is regularly trying to break down silos in my own work, I was thrilled to see what lessons Okinawa had to offer.