During my Masters program at University of Cambridge, I’ve been researching how video games can inspire and foster climate action. Today I had the chance to play the vertical slice (the beginning prototype) for the game that I’ve been working on. It’s beautiful, emotional, and challenging — all characteristics of a game that connect with players, and connect those players to something far beyond their screens.
3 billion people across the globe play video games. However, storytelling through video games has largely been absent from the climate change conversations that involve policy makers, governments, businesses, climate scientists, academics, and climate communicators. As someone who belongs to all of those communities and has worked in all of those sectors, I hope that I can be a bridge that not only brings them together but also helps them to collaborate and work together toward their common goal for a healthy, sustainable planet for all.
This game could be a game changer, and I can’t wait to see where this goes. More details soon as the prototype grows toward the market launch in Fall 2024.
South Brooklyn during Friday’s floods. Photo by Christa Avampato.
A river flowed from Prospect Park through my neighborhood in South Slope, Brooklyn on Friday when we were pummeled with 7+ inches of rain in ~12 hours. I didn’t realize NYC’s floods were international news until I started getting messages from friends outside the country. With over 13 inches of rain in September, this is the 2nd wettest September since NYC began keeping weather records in 1920.
I took this photo of the flooding from my apartment at 8am. As I watched the water gushing through the streets, I thought about a conversation I had with my friend, Alex MacLennan, almost a decade ago. He told me the climate models then predicted the western half of the US would grow increasingly drier and hotter while the eastern half would be regularly flooded. How right they were.
NYC is an archipelago that sits mostly at sea-level surrounded by brackish water with the busiest shipping port in the US. Though it looms large on the national and international stages as a financial, cultural, political, and media capital, area-wise it’s small and easily overwhelmed by water.
It is, in many ways, a climate disaster waiting to happen. It’s the mostly densely populated city in the U.S. with nearly 28,000 people per square mile and has the largest population with almost 9 million people, more than double the size of the next largest city. The population doubles during the workday with as many commuters as residents. It’s also a city of hard surfaces (though we have 7 million trees and the tree canopy covers 21% of the city). Aged infrastructure and a subterranean subway that is 100+ years old further compound threats from flash flooding, coastal storms, and sea level rise. Flooding here is a crisis that must be urgently and unrelentingly addressed.
The country and world can’t afford to lose New York. While some strides have been made to protect the city from climate change, it’s not nearly enough. But all that may be changing, and fast.
These floods will become more frequent and intense in the coming years. We have to mitigate and adapt at the same time with nature-based solutions like biophilic architecture, mangroves, reefs, rooftop farms, and the transformation of vacant lots into bioswales. They are proven, efficient, and relatively inexpensive solutions. I hope the work at Governor’s Island can make these ideas realities.
Like all investments, nature-based solutions take time to create and scale. We have no more time to waste. We have to get started now, and it’s my hope that I can do my part to push this work forward.
In the last 13 years, the U.S. has used 1.5 trillion gallons of water for fracking. That’s the amount of water used annually by the state of Texas with a population of nearly 30 million people. It’s a triple whammy against the planet by America — the emissions created by these fossil fuels, the extensive use of water to complete fracking exercises to get those fossil fuels out of the ground, and the immense damage done to ecosystems by fracking, a process that creates vast amounts of wastewater, emits greenhouse gases such as methane, releases toxic air pollutants and generates noise, destroys animal and plant habitats, causes species decline, disrupts animal migrations, and degrades land.
I used to be grateful that he was in the climate conversation. Now, I’m disappointed by yet another prominent scientist who has gone off-the-rails and is ignoring science. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s desperation at the dire state of the planet.
This is what I know to be true — the wisdom of nature far exceeds any wisdom of any human who has ever lived. To claim otherwise, is the height of ignorance and arrogance. It’s dangerous to listen to someone who puts himself above nature, especially when he has one of the highest personal carbon footprints in the world and the health of the natural world underpins half of global GDP (~$40 trillion).
Nature knows how to create conditions conducive to life. The human track record on supporting life, including our own, is abysmal. I’m banking on nature’s wisdom every single day. She’s an ally, not an adversary, and we must listen and respect her before it’s too late. Nature made our existence possible.
Human ingenuity, while offering many gifts, has given us climate change, fracking, and perhaps the recipe for our own extinction. The most ingenious actions humans could take now are to listen to and learn from nature, and work with her, not against her. She’s ready to play ball. She always has been. The question now is, are we?
I spent last week inspired by storytelling, a mechanism of empathy as Neil Gaiman calls it, during Climate Week NYC. I met dozens of family office leaders and their advisors. My dissertation for University of Cambridge focuses on this intersection — how storytelling can galvanize family office investment in nature-based solutions.
A few take-aways:
Language matters I went to a New York Public Library event with Eliza Reid and Dr. Jenni Haukio, the First Ladies of Iceland and Finland. The discussion was moderated by Neil Gaiman, my favorite author. All three of them emphasized the importance of language and how the words we choose are intimately tied to our culture, geography, and ecology.
When talking about climate change, we can feel overwhelmed by inertia. One way to break that inertia is to go out into nature and listen to the stories she tells. The beauty and wonder of nature, and the inspiration she provides, is worth protecting, saving, and sacrificing for. Stories, in any medium and format, can center nature in powerful ways that emotionally connect us to one another and the natural world.
Art is vital to the climate conversation Science, governance, and finance matter enormously in climate. Art matters just as much. It is the way in for many people. The expression of climate change’s impact on a personal level sticks with people more than facts and figures. We save things we love, that hold meaning for us, and art is a way to convey love and meaning. I want to create more climate talks and actions that are cross-sector, cross-generational, cross-geography. Let’s tear down the walls that divide us in favor of the bridges that connect us. I didn’t see a single talk at Climate Week that includes scientists, artists, policy makers, and financiers together on one stage. I’d like to make that the norm.
Where there are helpers, there is hope I went to E2’s session on how New York (City and State) can make the most of the Inflation Reduction Act, the largest climate investment ever made by the U.S. government. I met three entrepreneurs who are doing innovative product development in the energy space. All are career switchers. They sincerely want to help, and that gives me hope.
Passion drives progress I spoke to some financiers trying to serve family offices. I asked them what they love about what they do. They looked at me wide-eyed and silent. They have no idea what they love about what they do. They’ve never thought about it. They’re working on climate because as they said, “it’s what’s next”.
I emphatically encouraged them to consider the why as much as the what. If they are just in this for their piece of the pie, that distracts from and hinders the movement. This work is too important, too vital to the well-being of every being to be in this just for the money they think they can make. Passion is the driving force for progress. Money is fuel for the journey. Let’s not get it twisted.
This morning’s joyful find—THIS is the style of academic writing I’m here for! I’m reading through an academic paper about climate change communications that quotes one of my storytelling queens, the great author Ursula Le Guin. I nearly fell out of my chair with happiness!
Paraphrasing, it says we need to lay aside stories of the one hero versus one villain and begin to tell what Ursula Le Guin in “Dancing at the Edge of the World” called “the carrier bag narrative”: collecting stories to construct transformative narratives to help us find the strength to “stay with the trouble” so that we can change and inspire change in others. Stories transform our world by affording us the chance to co-construct our shared future.
We are all in this narrative of climate change, though our personal stories of its impact are not the same. Following Le Guin’s counsel, we need to tell our stories and also listen to the stories of others to construct the narrative system of climate change. There are many voices, many perspectives, and many outcomes, simultaneously being told and lived. They are all valid. They all play a part. It is therefore our responsibility to not just make ourselves heard and understood, but also to make sure others have the opportunity to do the same.
This isn’t about getting and taking what we think is ours. It’s about the idea of being the Mother Tree in the forest, making sure that each individual in the system has what they need to grow and thrive. We are all made better when each of us is well.
Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery is much more than a final resting place for over 600,000 people. It’s also an arboretum, wildlife sanctuary, and a community resource to mitigate climate change where life and death exist side-by-side. A 30-minute walk from my apartment, it’s a place I visit often as I get to know my new borough.
With 478 acres, Green-Wood is home to over 7,000 trees from 690 different species, 216 species of birds (including the Argentinian monk parrots who make their home in the architecture of the entrance gates!), and dozens of species of mammals, fungi, and insects, especially pollinators thanks to their beehives and wildflower meadows. Each new planting is selected for its climate adaptiveness, wildlife value, enhancement of the beauty of the landscape, and resilience. Every year Green-Wood’s living collection is responsible for sequestering 264,000 lbs. of carbon dioxide, removing 12,000 lbs. of pollution from the air we breathe, and mitigating 2,620,000 gallons of stormwater from overwhelming Brooklyn’s sewage system.
Founded in 1838, Green-Wood was Brooklyn’s first public park during a period of rapid urbanization. It became so popular, that it inspired the competition to build both Central Park in Manhattan and nearby Prospect Park in Brooklyn. Olmsted and Vaux won both competitions and designed both parks. After designing Central Park, they said that “Prospect Park is everything we wanted Central Park to be.” How very Brooklyn of them!
Green-Wood is also filled with gorgeous art. Inside the chapel, there’s currently a beautiful art installation paying homage to the stories of lesser known souls who are buried on its grounds. I’ve been to classical music concerts inside the crypt, whiskey tastings on its many sprawling lawns, and a Halloween Party that felt like a New Orleans carnival. It is one of the city’s treasures. No wonder it attracts over 500,000 visitors every year.
I love cemeteries and seek them out when I travel. If you find yourself in New York and want to get a sense of our history, ecology, culture, Green-Wood should be high on your list.
All photos below were taken by me at Green-Wood. You’re welcome to use them as long as they are attributed to me. Thank you.
My eyes started to fill up watching the footage from Maui, Hawaii. I’ve struggled to put my emotions into words as I poured over the coverage. Nearly 14 years to the day, I lost almost everything, including my life, to an apartment building fire on the Upper West Side of New York City. I know the fear of running for my life, away from flames and into the emptiness of the aftermath. The smell of that noxious smoke is still in my nose and memory. I think it always will be.
I wish I could be in Maui to help. Whether using my logistics and operations experience to get survivors supplies and basic needs, or just being there to comfort people knowing exactly how they feel to have lost everything, I can’t help but think that my life and career could be of use in the midst of this horrible tragedy.
Already Maui’s fires are prompting conversations in the sustainability community. When we talk about sustainability solutions, we look at mitigation (halting and reversing climate change and its impacts) and adaptation (preparing ourselves for the impacts of a warming world on our lives). Now in my second year at University of Cambridge studying sustainability, I’m beginning to formulate my career plans for what comes next. I’m using this mitigation and adaptation split as a frame for my future work:
What can I do to preserve the natural world we have now and rewild, restore, renew, and regenerate what’s been lost?
What can I do to prevent the devastation that will continue, and worsen, because of climate change so we protect lives and natural areas?
Can I do both, or do I have to choose where I think I can be the most value?
My Cambridge dissertation involves securing funding from the wealthiest people in the world to fill the climate finance gap. One thing I’ll test is which of these strategic objectives, mitigation or adaptation, resonates most with these funders. Maybe they’ll also see the value in both. I suspect this research will help me figure out where I fit into the puzzle, and how my skills can best be utilized as we begin the fight for and battle of our lives. I’m ready to take the journey, wherever it leads.
Here is a fascinating, and incredibly sad, fallout from climate change that I had not previously considered. I manage the streaming movie channel for a world-class arts organization based in New York. We curate the finest concerts, dance, opera, and music-based documentaries from around the globe, and provide them to subscribers in 63 countries.
Recently, we had to pull a performance of Rigoletto from our future lineup because the performance we were planning to record this summer cannot be staged in Italy. Climate change has made it too hot, and it would be unsafe health-wise for the performers, technicians, and audience. Further proof that climate change is having broad reaching impacts on every industry, everywhere.
Over time, this will only grow unless we halt emissions. Even the art we love and look forward to experiencing, and the economic and cultural benefit the arts bring to so many communities around the world, is at risk of disappearing.
I spent my first year at University of Cambridge researching and writing about the role of video games to encourage climate action. I was fortunate to collaborate with the incredible team at ustwo Games on this work, especially Jennifer Estaris who is a shining star in the games for good space. They are a group of passionate, talented, and deeply committed people. Through our work, I realized that video games can and will play a part in building a healthier, more joyful, safer, and more sustainable world.
Games are for everyone. They unify people across cultures, continents, and every demographic designation. Their stories are timely and timeless. They allow us to reconcile with our past, make sense of our present, and simulate our future with a high degree of accuracy and an abundance of empathy. They help us not only to imagine a better and brighter future, but also create the roadmap to get there. Games can do what so many other tools can’t: they can transcend politics, cross the chasm of experience, and help establish common ground. They are a map, a compass, and a guidebook to the very highest calling of humanity—to be humane to all beings.
Today I’m at the United Nations for the inaugural Games and SDG (Sustainable Development Goals) Summit at the UN Headquarters, the kick-off to the 20th Games for Change Festival. I’m honored to be invited with industry professionals, government officials, and sustainable development experts, and look forward to all of the incredible conversations, ideas, and ambitions that will flow through each and every person in the room. Together, we’re building the path to higher ground, and I can’t wait to see what we find.
My dissertation proposal has been accepted by University of Cambridge and I have a fantastic supervisor who is based at The London School of Economics and Political Science, Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment.
I’ll spend the next year developing a framework for climate change storytelling to connect sustainability advocates with family offices investigating sustainable investments and business decisions. I’m passionate about creating win-win-win opportunities for these families, the planet, and all beings who share this home.
The capital shortfall is a massive challenge for the shift to a sustainable society, and my hope is that my dissertation can help contribute a piece of the solution. Here we go!
Christa Avampato 