Low-Energy Fridays: Is Taylor Swift a Climate Villain?
Taylor Swift’s private jets got spray painted by Just Stop Oil (JSO) activists. Well, they weren’t actually Swift’s jets—but JSO intended to spray paint them (just as good, right?). This is a break from JSO’s usual targets, such as Stonehenge or priceless works of art. Interestingly, the plane vandalism elicited a more positive reaction than their other antics. This is likely because some people feel it is unjust that they must suffer the effects of climate change while others, especially wealthy private jet owners, contribute an outsized amount to global emissions. This sparks an interesting philosophical question about climate responsibility. But from a policy perspective, the debate is more distracting than helpful.
First, consider responsibility for climate actions. Humans naturally tend to view others as being more responsible for negative outcomes than themselves. A good example is a student who fails a test. Students who did well are likely to assume that the one who failed is dumb or lazy, while the failing student might attribute the situation to mitigating circumstances like a disrupted home life or responsibilities that compete with study time.
And so it is with climate issues—we are more likely to view our own emitting activities as unavoidable or justified and others’ activities as less necessary. A great example of this dynamic came early in Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s political career. When called out for the many Uber trips her campaign made despite her heavy criticism of oil companies, her response was “[I’m just] living in the world. I also fly and use AC.”
This is why climate change is fundamentally a collective action problem: Nearly everyone is responsible for at least some greenhouse gas emission. And the blame avoidance that many engage in is problematic because it is intellectually inconsistent. Sure, Taylor Swift has a bigger carbon footprint than I do; but as an American, I have a bigger carbon footprint than most others in the world (as do the JSO protestors, being from the United Kingdom). Therefore, the logically consistent position is to accept that everyone contributes to climate change with varying levels of responsibility.
Whether the pollution we cause is acceptable is another moral question, but intent matters as well as outcomes. We can agree that pollution from oil use is bad while also recognizing that banning combustion-engine ambulances would be wrong because it would deprive people of lifesaving transportation. A philosophical idea applicable to many of these acts of pollution is called “double effect,” in which the bad outcome of pollution is unintended but unavoidable in the pursuit of a morally good action. Taylor Swift’s intention is not to pollute; it is to entertain her fans. And because she can’t help that airports would be disrupted if she tried to fly commercial, we shouldn’t judge her too harshly (though I’m still enjoying the memes).
From a policy perspective, though, a reality check is in order. A 2022 analysis of the top 10 celebrities’ annual private jet usage showed an estimated 19,089 metric tons of CO2e emission from their air travel, with Swift topping the list at 2,971.5 metric tons. That doesn’t include her recent Eras Tour, estimated at about 511 metric tons. For comparison, per-capita emissions in the United States is 14.9 metric tons, and the global average is 4.7 metric tons. The estimated 19 thousand metric tons from the top 10 jet-setting celebrities would only be about 0.00005 percent of global emissions, so it’s not their travel choices that are making or breaking the climate.
But this isn’t to discount the impact wealthy people have on climate change. The International Energy Agency noted last year that the top 10 percent of emitters (about 800 million people) are responsible for half of the world’s emissions. So even though it is true to say rich people do contribute disproportionately to climate change, this isn’t just a handful of people who need to learn to live without private jets, but a huge portion of the global population—many of whom do not think of themselves as especially wealthy.
From a policy perspective, targeting rich people’s consumption as a climate solution is a dead end. More fruitful efforts target issues like pollution taxes or substituting coal consumption with cleaner fuels. Because of the sheer number of emitters, emission abatement comes from broader societal shifts in energy consumption and behavior. Take, for example, the shift away from lighting homes with whale oil to petroleum products and then to electricity. It’s worth noting that wealthy people tend to be the first adopters of and investors in newer, cleaner innovations; in fact, Swift herself purchases carbon offsets (though their climate benefits are mixed).
So, despite the appeal of blaming a select few for the challenges of climate change, it’s not fair to selectively ascribe blame while exempting ourselves—and we can’t expect climate sanctions on the ultra-rich to yield progress. Ultimately, we must stick to the harder path: finding pragmatic ways to reduce emissions through globally adoptable practices.