Teaching about climate change in the midst of ecological crisis: Responsibilities, challenges, and possibilities

March 2023 saw the release of the official synthesis of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s Sixth Assessment Report (IPCC, 2023). The synthesis reviews the state of knowledge on the science of climate change since the Fifth Assessment (in 2014). It is both bleak and stark. Headline statements in the report repeat and extend a series of warnings about the effects of climate change on every region on the planet, and their unequivocal cause: humans and their ways of living on this planet. The synthesis highlights many concerning trends, marked by statements signalling either ‘high confidence’ or ‘very high confidence’ among scientists about their findings on present and anticipated impacts, loss, damage, and escalating risk, for example:

Climate change is a threat to human well-being and planetary health (very high confidence). There is a rapidly closing window of opportunity to secure a liveable and sustainable future for all (very high confidence). (IPCC, 2023, Headline Statements, C.1)

A failure to mitigate and adapt to global warming is expected to lead to even more of the extreme floods, bushfires, droughts, species loss, and ecological change that is already occurring and disrupting our social, political, and economic systems. Yet, scientists’ warnings have not resulted in governments implementing adequate solutions to mitigate climate change, including in relation to education (Reid et al., 2021). In fact, the spread of neoliberalism and increased distrust of governments, media, and science only appears to have exacerbated the challenge of responding to climate change.

The United Nations (UN) has reiterated that education and raising public awareness is “an essential element for mounting an adequate response to” climate change (UNESCO, 2019, p.4; see also UN, 2015, Article 12). Thus, as part of our collective moral responsibility for addressing climate change, teachers seem to have role specific responsibilities, including helping students to understand climate science, fostering pro-environmental values and behaviours, and teaching the skills and knowledge needed to adapt to a world transformed by climate change. Findings from a UNESCO (2021) survey of 58,280 teachers from 144 countries would suggest this is widely accepted by teachers. Ninety-five percent of those surveyed agreed that climate change education was either important or very important. However, less than 40% were confident about teaching climate change (p. 6). This is not surprising as climate change education poses some significant challenges, many of which relate to broader educational issues that have long interested educational theorists, e.g., the teaching of controversial issues and values and the risk of indoctrination; student voice, student activism and democratic education; and the nature and place of the emotions in education.

The eight papers in this special issue explore some of the challenges posed by climate change education and suggest various approaches and methods for implementing quality climate change education. Thus, this issue responds to Humphreys and Blenkinsop’s (2017) call for scholars to “contribute to the expansion and deepening of both theory and practice in the face of this most serious of challenges” (p. 243).

One challenge posed by climate change education is that, despite the scientific consensus on human induced climate change, the issue is controversial and politicised. A recent poll conducted in the USA revealed that 45% of respondents did not believe that human activity is a key cause of climate change, while 8.3% denied that climate change was occurring at all. The poll also found that those with conservative political beliefs were far more likely to deny anthropogenic climate change (Grzincic & Zoledziowski, 2021). The controversial nature of climate change is a double-edged sword for educators—offering both benefits and risks. Controversial topics can be engaging for students, allowing them to critically examine competing perspectives, justify opinions and, thus, develop and practice critical thinking skills. On the other hand, they may provoke classroom conflict and expose teachers to backlash from students, parents, colleagues or even members of the public, including accusations of indoctrination. This risk has resulted in some teachers adopting problematic approaches to teaching about climate change, such as presenting students with an impartial account of ‘both sides’ of the debate. Some climate change sceptics groups have even developed their own curriculum materials and lobbied for their implementation in schools in order to provide students with a ‘balanced’ account of the issue (Koziol, 2020). These problems, and suggestions for overcoming them, are explored by several papers in this special issue, notably the first paper by Bleazby, et al.

Such challenges are amplified by the emotive nature of climate change. By raising greater awareness of the issue, teachers might cause or aggravate distress amongst students. Research has shown that young people are particularly vulnerable to climate change distress, including anxiety and fear about the impact on the natural world and humanity, as well as anger about the failure of governments, organisations and individuals to avert such impacts. A recent international survey of 10,000 young people, aged 16–25, found that 84% were at least moderately worried about climate change and 59% were very or extremely worried, while 75% said “that they think the future is frightening and 83% said that they think people have failed to take care of the planet” (Hickman et al., 2021, p. e863). Teaching about climate change may also evoke anxiety and anger in those whose livelihoods are dependent on fossil fuel industries, as well as those who feel they are being pressured to make unwanted changes to their everyday lives (e.g., reducing car and air travel or consumption of red meat). As Gurr and Forster discuss (this issue), some teachers are working in communities full of families employed in fossil fuel industries (e.g., mining towns).

Furthermore, as the climate crisis escalates, more and more teachers will be working in traumatised communities that have been directly impacted by climate change related disasters (e.g., bushfires, droughts, floods). In the aftermath of the catastrophic 2019–2020 Australian bushfires, Australian children’s book author, Jackie French (2020), described the impact on school students in her fire affected community: “Every child had either watched fire rage and flicker round their house or has a best friend who is still white-faced and silent” (n.p.). A large proportion of the country’s population was impacted by these unprecedented bushfires, which burnt through more than 12.6 million hectares of land; destroyed 2,779 homes; killed 33 people; resulted in 57% of the adult population being affected by smoke (Werner & Lyons, 2020); and left 10.6 million Australians feeling anxious about their safety or the safety of family and friends (Biddle et al., 2020). Of course, this is not unique to Australia. Climate change related crises are occurring all over the globe. Teachers could draw on such experiences to help students contextualise and understand the potential impacts of climate change. However, that also poses risks, not just of exacerbating trauma, but the risk of teachers being accused of the sort of indoctrination that Zembylas (2022) refers to as “emotional indoctrination”. For example, in a US study by Kissling and Bell (2020), a teacher, who was asked how they taught about recent powerful hurricanes, responded “I didn[‘t] teach them that it was a consequence of global warming. That is nothing more than a dishonest and immoral tactic that is used by the left to force environmental propaganda on pliable students” (p. 22). Thus, teachers may experience tension between wanting to foster their students’ concern for climate change and promoting student wellbeing and inclusive school communities. These challenges are explored in this issue, especially in the paper by Ojala, a leader in the area of environmental education and the emotions.

Not only are young people especially anxious about the climate crisis, they are particularly passionate about addressing it. This is evident in powerful, student led climate change movements like School Strike for Climate (Thackeray et al., 2020). Such social activism also poses both educational benefits and risks. As Steffensen, et al. argue (this issue), teachers can harness young people’s interest in climate change in order to engage them in learning valuable skills and knowledge. In particular, it may enable educators to foster student voice and an understanding of civic processes (Biswas & Mattheis, 2022; Brennan et al., 2022; McGregor & Christie, 2021). However, this may also motivate students to participate in acts of civil disobedience (e.g., truanting from school to attend climate change rallies). Thus, fostering student voice and civic engagement may conflict with the enforcement of educational policies and laws (e.g., compulsory school attendance) and a sense of responsibility to protect students from the potential negative consequences of engaging in civil disobedience (e.g., being arrested or disciplined at school) (see Biswas & Mattheis, 2022; Brennan, et al., 2022). We may even question whether young people, rather than adults, should shoulder so much burden for addressing climate change. These themes are explored in this issue, especially by Toscano and Quay and Gurr and Forster.

Not only do the eight papers in this special issue explore various challenges to climate change education, many suggest approaches and methods for implementing quality climate change education. These approaches and methods draw on diverse theories and pedagogical practices that reject or reconstruct the sorts of epistemic, educational and political ideals that have helped legitimise and normalise environmental destruction, such as those that assume culture/nature and mind/body dualisms (e.g., see Bleazby, 2013; Plumwood, 1993; Thornton, 2023; Thornton, Graham, & Burgh, 2020). For example, they may emphasise more embodied, situated, communal notions of knowing and moral inquiry; ecological notions of self; or make use of philosophies that critique neoliberal, capitalist or technocentric ideologies. Some of the specific educational ideas and practices discussed in this special issue include: place responsive pedagogy, ecopedagogy and nature based learning (Bleazby, et al.; Tuparevska); Philosophy for Children and Critical Indigenous Pedagogy (Bleazby, et al.); teaching ecosophy through cinema (Cole); education for post-sustainability that re-evaluates the connections between technology and sustainability (Takkinen & Pulkki); the normative case study approach (Gurr & Forster); education for critical emotional awareness (Ojala); inquiry based dialogues and lived democracy (Steffensen, et al.); and human rights-based education (Tuparevska).

Indigenous philosophies and practices have a central role to play in climate change education. Their inclusion is essential for mitigating the epistemic injustice due to the exclusion of Indigenous philosophies and practices that assume an ecological ethos that views humans as ecologically interdependent rather than independent. As Gregory Cajete (1994) explains:

accumulated knowledge of the remaining indigenous groups around the world represents a body of ancient thoughts, experiences and actions that must be honoured and preserved as a vital storehouse of environmental wisdom. … Modern societies must recapture the ecologically sustainable orientation that has long been absent from its psychological, social and spiritual consciousness. (p.78)

Two papers in this special issue emphasise different Indigenous philosophies and pedagogies: one by Elena Tuparevska and another by Bleazby et al., especially the contribution from Kombumerri person, political scientist and philosopher Mary Graham to the latter paper. However, as this paper concludes, there needs to be much more research and teaching in this area.

In the first paper of this special issue, ‘Responding to Climate Change “Controversy” in Schools: Philosophy for Children, Place-responsive Pedagogies & Critical Indigenous Pedagogy’, Jennifer Bleazby, Simone Thornton, Gilbert Burgh, and Mary Graham examine the educational implications of the social and political controversy surrounding anthropogenic climate change. As they explain, a common concern with the teaching of controversial topics is that it can expose teachers to accusations of indoctrination. Research suggests that many teachers might be trying to avoid this problem with regards to climate change education by using a type of ‘teaching the controversy’ approach, where the teacher presents ‘both sides’ of the climate change debate for students to critically compare and form their own judgment about the issue (e.g., Plutzer et al., 2016). They argue that this pedagogical approach is inappropriate and potentially dangerous, stating that climate change educators should use the abundance of available evidence to provide students with reasons as to why anthropogenic climate change is a serious threat. Drawing on Ivan Snook’s notion of indoctrination, they argue that such an approach would not constitute indoctrination. Nonetheless, the authors outline a range of reasons as to why teachers may still want to provide students with some opportunity to critically examine climate change controversy, including the views of climate sceptics. Drawing on the Philosophy for Children (P4C) program and its Community of Inquiry Pedagogy, they outline practical strategies teachers might use for this purpose. However, they argue that P4C tends to overemphasise cognition and dialogue, whereas climate change education must foster embodied knowing and a deep connection to place if students are to develop the values and behaviours needed to address climate change. The authors conclude that Place-responsive pedagogies, especially Critical Indigenous Pedagogies, assume and foster these epistemic, ontological and ethical ideals and practices and, thus, are central to quality climate change education.

Maria Ojala’s paper, ‘Climate-Change Education and Critical Emotional Awareness: Implications for Teacher Education’, examines the emotive and existential character of the climate change crisis and the implications for teacher education. As we have seen, teachers need to be conscious of the fact that climate change education may negatively impact student wellbeing and incite feelings of hopelessness. However, Ojala argues that educators should avoid ‘therapeutic’ responses (e.g., relaxation exercises) that aim to help students replace ‘negative emotions’ with more positive ones. Such a response to ‘negative emotions’ does not allow for a critical examination of these emotions and the serious social problems, like climate change, that underpin them. Rather, it risks “sweeping them under the rug”. Instead, Ojala argues that critical emotional awareness (CEA), which helps “young people face difficult emotions, critically evaluate them, and do something constructive with them”, must be a key component of Education for Sustainable Development (ESD). CEA draws on research and literature from multiple disciplines, including critical pedagogy with its focus on examining social problems and taking transformative action (Freire, 1974); theories of emotion that emphasise the role of the emotions in critically examining social issues, such as Boler’s (1999) “pedagogy of discomfort”; the psychological literature about emotional intelligence; and socio-scientific research on the emotions. Ojala outlines how teacher education can provide teachers with the skills needed to foster CEA as an essential aspect of ESD.

In their paper, ‘Using normative case studies to examine ethical dilemmas for educators in an ecological crisis’, Sarah Gurr and Daniella Forster examine some of the ethical dilemmas school teachers may encounter when teaching about climate change, especially in regards to students attending climate change rallies and teaching within communities that are financially dependent on fossil fuel industries. They discuss the conflicting messages teachers often receive from the official curriculum, other polices, education bureaucrats, and politicians. Drawing on their own experiences as teacher educators in Newcastle, Australia—home to the world’s largest coal exporting port—Gurr and Forster outline an approach to teaching educational ethics that fosters the ethical reasoning skills and dispositions needed to navigate such dilemmas and implement democratic sustainability education in schools. Extending on the work of Levinson (2015) and Levinson and Fay (2019), they recommend the use of normative case studies, which enable teachers and pre-service teachers to engage in dialogues about the complex ethical dimensions of teachers’ work, educational policies, and educational systems. As an exemplar, the authors summarise and analyse their own original, Australian based case study, ‘High School at the Coal-Face: The Cost of Getting “What We’re Owed”’—a teaching resource that is housed on the Justice in School’s website (Gurr & Foster, n.d.). In doing so, they demonstrate how this approach enables teachers to analyse diverse perspectives; destabilise normative beliefs and assumptions by exposing them to critical examination; and developing ethical reasoning skills as they attempt to articulate and justify ethical decisions about how teachers ought to respond to such situations.

Maurizio Toscano and John Quay’s paper, ‘“How dare you!” When an ecological crisis is impacted by an educational crisis: Temporal insights via Arendt’, begins with an analysis of a now famous excerpt from Greta Thunberg’s speech at the 2019 UN’s Climate Action Summit:

My message is that we’ll be watching you. This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to us young people for hope. How dare you! (Thunberg, 2019)

Drawing on Hannah Arendt’s (1961) The Crisis in Education, especially her notion of “natality” (i.e., the child as ‘newcomer’ in the world), Toscano and Quay problematise social movements like School Strike for Climate, focusing on how they invert the traditional child-adult relationship and prematurely expose young people to the adult, public realm, increasing their risk of being indoctrinated and hindering their capacity, as newcomers, to renew the world. According to Arendt, educators must teach children about the adult world without dictating to them what a new world should look like, as this would strip these newcomers of their opportunity to genuinely renew the world. The school supports the students’ capacity for renewal because it is somewhat detached from the adult public world—a space where children can learn about the adult world and respond to it before they enter the public world as adults. Thus, returning to Thunberg’s speech, what might be wrong with a child addressing adults on the climate crisis, and movements like School Strike for Climate, is that it implies adults are so alienated from their world that they have failed to take responsibility for it, forcing children to prematurely leave the private sphere and enter the public, political sphere. Furthermore, a notion of science as totally objective, apolitical and ethically indisputable may have contributed to this educational crisis because adults may have ceded their responsibility for the world, and for introducing children to the adult world, to the authority of science and this notion of science may strip young people of their capacity for genuine renewal of the world.

The fifth paper in this special issue is Pasi Takkinen and Jani Pulkki’s ‘Discovering Earth and the Missing Masses—Technologically Informed Education for a Post-sustainable Future’. The paper also draws on Arendt but focuses on her notion of ‘earth alienation’ (1998), as well as Latour’s (1992) notion of technology as ‘missing mass’, in order to examine the tension between climate change education and the growth of technology within educational institutions. Climate change education and, more broadly, environmental education seek ways for humans to continue inhabiting the earth. However, as Takkinen and Pulkki point out, “educational institutions seem to be unconditionally committed to promoting technological progress” even though the continued growth of the technosphere will render Earth uninhabitable. The authors note that the total mass of human made things on Earth, which weighs 1.1 trillion tonnes, already exceeds the total biomass, with more plastic than animals and more buildings than trees (Elhacham et al., 2020). Thus, in order to continue inhabiting the earth, they argue that we need to adopt an “earthling approach”, which involves critically reflecting upon and revaluating our relationship with technology. Likewise, environmental educators must adopt a critical stance towards technology when it conflicts with sustainability, including limiting or rejecting the unnecessary use of technology. However, the authors note that this critical stance is likely to be challenging due to the ubiquitousness of technology and the prevalence of a capitalistic and ‘technocratic’ worldview (which assumes that technological development is inevitable and inherently good). Consequently, technology often remains ‘hidden’ and immune to serious criticism, including within the field of ESD, which assumes that growth can be decoupled from environmental impact. The authors propose replacing ESD with education for post-sustainability (EPS), which embraces the earthling approach and technological literacy that involves three key elements: (1) the art of seeing technology, (2) the art of living with technology, and (3) the art of delegating technology.

Elena Tuparevska’s paper, ‘Learning in Nature: An Amplified Human Rights-based Framework’, examines how our ability and willingness to respond to the climate crisis and protect the natural world is limited by our growing disconnect with nature. As a consequence of urbanisation and increasingly sedentary lifestyles, humans spend more time indoors and less time in nature than previous generations. Richard Louv (2008) has argued that many children are at risk of a “nature-deficit disorder”. This not only limits humans’ ability to understand and protect nature, but it may also reduce our quality of life since, as Tuparevska explains, spending time in nature is associated with numerous health benefits. Contemporary schools may contribute to this problem as most are largely, or even entirely, artificial environments where learning predominantly takes place indoors. Tuparevska argues that, in order to address the climate crisis, schools must require students to spend significant time in nature so that they may develop a deep connection to, and understanding and appreciation of, nature. The paper provides an interesting, brief history of the role of nature in education, including the educational ideas of Rousseau and Pestalozzi, practices associated with the hygienists movement of the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, the use of outdoor schools during pandemics (a practice, surprisingly underutilised during the COVID 19 pandemic), and forest schools. Building on these practices and ideas, ecopedagogy, UNESCO’s human rights-based approach to education, and the ideas and practices of some Indigenous cultures, Tuparevska proposes a “modified human rights-based framework to education” that includes nature as a fundamental element. This approach aims to realise key educational rights (e.g., the right to quality education), as well as the rights of nature, including fostering the relationship to nature that is needed to effectively respond to the climate change crisis.

In ‘Rebooting the End of the World: Teaching Ecosophy through Cinema’, David R. Cole draws on “anti-establishment” ideas from Felix Guattari, Murray Bookchin, Arne Næss, and Andre Gorz to outline a notion of ecosophy (i.e., ecology + philosophy) that can serve as a conceptual framework for teaching about climate change through cinema and, more broadly, for an educational philosophy that can underpin effective climate change education. Cole argues that popular ‘end of the world’ science fiction films, which are products of mainstream, capitalist society, tend to obfuscate the real and still catastrophic, but less spectacular and entertaining, processes and impacts of climate change described by scientists. Cole proposes an innovative philosophy of education that connects, in a lateral manner, the four positions of social ecology, ecosophy, degrowth, and deep ecology. This conceptual framework is used to critically analyse ten films that depict ‘end of the world’ images and humans saving themselves from the impacts of catastrophic events or processes, like climate change or nuclear war (e.g., The Day After Tomorrow, The Tomorrow War, Melancholia, Mad Max). Cole argues that by engaging in critical analyses of such depictions of the end of the world, educators may unlock an ecosophical perspective that counters the nihilism, passivity and inaction that climate change can provoke, including the trivial responses to climate change that have little genuine effect. In contrast, ecosophy emphasises the deep connection between humans, society, the economy and nature, and supports the methodical forward planning and organisation needed to address climate change, as opposed to reactionary and panic-stricken responses.

In their paper, ‘Using Inquiry-based Dialogues to Explore Controversial Climate Change Issues with Secondary Students: An Example from Norway’, Lisa Steffensen, Marit Johnsen-Høines and Kjellrun Hiis Hauge analyse transcripts and observations of a classroom dialogue into the controversial issue of electrifying offshore oil platforms in order to reduce CO₂ emissions. The analysis is framed by educational literature about inquiry-based dialogue, especially the Inquiry-Cooperation (IC) model (Alrø & Johnsen-Høines, 2010; Alrø & Skovsmose, 2002), and the notion of students’ lived democracy. Based on their analysis, the authors outline a pedagogical framework and methods for exploring the controversial aspects of climate change through classroom dialogue. Thus, this paper provides a concrete example of some of the pedagogical ideas and practices also suggested by other papers in this issue (e.g., Bleazby, et al; Gurr & Forster). The authors argue that not only is such pedagogical practice and curriculum content essential for quality climate change education, but it also has broader educational benefits. Like Ojala, the authors recognise that climate change is an issue with which many young people are already highly engaged. Thus, teachers can harness this interest to scaffold the development of skills, attitudes and behaviours that are important for learning and for participation in democratic societies, such as critical thinking and argumentation skills; co-constructing meaning; communal inquiry skills, including respect for others, attentive listening, and recognition of others’ viewpoints; formulating and expressing opinions; curiosity and open-mindedness; humility; and engagement with contemporary social debates and civic processes.

In concluding this editorial, we wish to thank the authors, referees and editorial board for supporting the creation and realisation of this collection. We also invite the journal’s readers to respond to the challenges laid out here and offer further contributions on how educational philosophy and theory can engage ‘the challenge of our times’.

Jennifer Bleazby
School of Education, Society and Culture, Monash University, Melbourne, Australia
[email protected]
Gilbert Burgh
School of Historical and Philosophical Inquiry, University of Queensland, Brisbane, Australia
Simone Thornton
School of Humanities and Social Inquiry, University of Wollongong, Wollongong, Australia
Mary Graham
School of Political Science and International Studies, University of Queensland, Brisbane, Australia
Alan Reid
School of Curriculum, Teaching and Inclusive Education, Monash University, Melbourne, Australia
Ilana Finefter-Rosenbluh
School of Education, Society and Culture, Monash University, Melbourne, Australia

Additional information

Funding

This special issue was produced as part of a research project titled Australian Teachers’ climate-change related ethical dilemmas in the midst of ecological crisis, which was funded by the Philosophy of Education Society of Australasia (PESA).