Joana Tadeu Guerra’s final comment at our annual conference, the theme of which this year was “Climate Emergency: What about Culture?”

The climate emergency is an existential crisis. It puts at risk not only the natural systems on which our survival depends, but also the cultural structures that sustain our lives (no one just wants to survive). To face it, it is essential to understand what our culture – Portuguese, European, colonialist, industrialised, self-indulgent, which is heard around the table and consumed on the sofa – says about this crisis.

Our culture views the climate emergency as “normal” and “inevitable” — a by-product of modernity and progress. The price we pay for the life the system that created it told us we deserve. But culture changes, as the activists who were on stage reminded us, it has changed so many times. And cultural production can open paths to imaginary futures, in which life can be more dignified and more beautiful, without costs that put life itself in check – as António Brito Guterres reminded us, “we need to have the right to the imaginary in order to exist socially and politically.”

In the dominant (or perhaps dominating) culture, no matter how much the media is accused of catastrophism – after all, disasters give an audience – the climate emergency is practically invisible, as impacts and responsibilities are minimised or distorted; in politics, sustainability is treated as a luxury that is accessible only to some and that drives others away from their cities. Economic growth is prioritised, consumption is glorified and dependence on fossil fuels grows, as Sinan Eden reminded us. But culture changes. And cultural production can document the impacts, denounce the culprits, demystify the false complexities, show the solutions.

The dominant (or perhaps dominating) culture often ignores the disproportionate impact that the climate crisis has on vulnerable communities: always the most affected, even though they have contributed very little, or nothing, to the problem. The issue of the climate emergency is not limited to environmental justice; it extends to social justice and cultural justice – because not all cultures contribute the same way to the problem and the solutions. As Vânia Gala said, “the hegemonic culture is racist and extractive and no one is decolonising; just diversifying.” But culture changes. And cultural production can give a voice to marginalised communities and place those who are systematically ignored at the centre of the discussion. Furthermore: anyone can produce culture (!), and as Maret Anne Sara said in the first presentation of the conference, “art is a vital weapon when our war is invisible”.

The dominant (or perhaps dominating) culture summarises sustainability to numbers, economic objectives, solar panels, emissions targets, “everything measured so that nothing changes”, as Vânia Rodrigues denounced this morning. But culture changes. And cultural production can make the climate emergency subject rather than material.

The dominant (or perhaps dominating) culture makes a tacit acceptance of the destruction of the natural systems that sustain life on Earth. As Sinan Éden denounced, “we produce and reproduce hegemonic cultural normality”. But culture changes. And cultural production can (and should!), as activist Sara Gaspar said, “declare a climate emergency.”

Vânia Rodrigues reminded us this morning: “we are not the problem”. And we are not: individualised carbon blame is a power game created by the fossil lobby in which the house always wins. But at the same time, as Sinan Eden said in the afternoon, “this is our problem”.

Ana Maria Valinho warned of the “emotional and personal distance” that people feel in relation to the climate emergency: narratives that focus only on catastrophism risk paralysing people, plunging them into a feeling of despair and impotence; on the other hand, excessively optimistic narratives that extol solutions that do not address the problems which science is tired of pointing out to us – we need to put an end to the fossil – create false feelings of security.

Any cultural intervention on the climate emergency is, therefore, a difficult exercise in balancing between harsh reality and the necessary hope so as not to give up on action. We are here to help you find that balance, with momentum and parity.

Science has already done everything it could: it pointed out the problems and gave us the solutions. Politics is in the hands of a small elite who benefit from the status quo – as does the funding on which so many cultural producers depend. But culture? Culture has the power to construct thought, transform public opinion, and generate the necessary collective action within the limits of democratic values.

We talk a lot, all of us who have the nerve to proclaim ourselves “activists”, about democratic tools for participation. But democracy, as we know it, has two enormous practical limitations in the fight against climate emergency: time and territory. The climate emergency is global – but it is not universal (!), as Vânia Rodrigues highlighted in the debate, in an important thought about social inequalities – and it is intergenerational, in responsibilities and meanings. Democracy, we all know very well, operates on a national and short-term logic based on electoral concerns. Culture transcends borders and generations. It connects us to the past – in responsibilities and meanings – and projects us to the future – again: in responsibilities and meanings.

At a time when democracy is tested by multiple crises – including the climate crisis, which requires apparently, I repeat: apparently, unpopular policies, of which today’s voters will not see the results and whose urgency contrasts with the slowness of democratic processes – it is quite possible that culture is, objectively, the best weapon to face the climate emergency. If we do not lead this movement with creativity and passion, we risk losing not only the planet, but justice and freedom.

For those who want to deepen their knowledge and explore more about the role of culture in the fight against climate emergency, Access Culture has provided a list of bibliographic recommendations.

For those who want to participate in the disruption, announcement and projection efforts, I invite you to the “Stop While We Can” demonstration, which will take place on November 23rd, at 3pm, in Lisbon. It is a mobilising action appealing to all of society to stop consenting to the destruction of the planet and come and build urgent and fair change. And there is still time to participate in the assemblies that are preparing this action with their imagination, their creativity, their art, their ideas and opinions.

During the conference, there was a moment of direct confrontation between climate activists – who recently threw paint on monuments and works of art (“what good are we if Humanity becomes history?” asked Ana Maria Valinho) – and artists, archaeologists and cultural programmers. It was an uncomfortable debate, but above all, profoundly positive, as it exposed important tensions. Everyone present recognises that the climate emergency is real, but few fully understand how it affects us daily. Simultaneously, we all agree that the climate emergency must be addressed, or we wouldn’t be here, but most of us are only available for a fight that doesn’t directly affect our lives, our work, our institutions.

This clash forces us to rethink what it actually means to act with the urgency and distinction that this existential crisis demands.

So, I end with questions to which I expect answers from the entire culture sector: Are you ready to make culture the fourth pillar of sustainability? How big is your ambition? What are you willing to do so that we can “stop while we can?”

(No, there is no comfort possible. There is much creative and hopeful work to do.)

21 October 2024, Fábrica das Palavras, Vila Franca de Xira