On Anger and Forgiveness

Ille et Vilaine, May 2025 in Writing

Here is another rattling dinner table conversation, this time with people I met on a cultural weekend away. They were about my age but did not share my concern for the environment. I feel the need to do something constructive with the anger I felt that evening.

On signing up for that trip, I had made sure to inform the organisers of my dietary requirements. As I sat down to dinner, I was pleasantly surprised to see that catering to my diet had not been an issue: the meal was delicious and I savoured every morsel.

I feel the need to do something constructive with the anger I felt that evening.

As so often, the plant-based fare on my plate soon became a topic of conversation. A man explained that his son was also vegan and family meals a logistical nightmare. A woman then jumped in, telling us that her own son had moved to Quebec and given up flying, before scoffing that he would get homesick soon enough, which should bring him back to his senses.

he would get homesick soon enough, which should bring him back to his senses.

This little anecdote had my fellow diners in stitches. My gastronomically-induced state of bliss suddenly gave way to a surge of indignation. I had thought myself immune to this type of banter. Not so. My anger boiling over, I snapped:

“I don’t have a problem with others not sharing my dietary choices, but I cannot stand to hear parents deriding those of their own children. At our age, we no longer have much power over the economic and political direction of the world, but we can at minimum respect our offspring for having the courage to try to live more sustainably.”

we can at minimum respect our offspring for having the courage to try to live more sustainably.

I rather killed the mood with my outburst. The mother of the young Quebec exile sniffed that I sounded like her son and that she liked to tell him that our generation hadn’t done such a bad job as all that. Without all our hard work, the economy, motorways, commercial aviation and pharmaceutical industry would not be where they are today, would they? I wasn’t clear how this was meant to justify her gibes, but I did realise that she was not an outlier.

Whereas my views often put me at odds with my age group, I am drawn to young people who try to remedy the problems that we have helped to create. It saddens me, when I speak to them, to hear of their growing eco-anxiety, a feeling often made worse when their own families sideline them.

my views often put me at odds with my age group dissonante

How did we get here? Wouldn’t it make more sense to be proud of our children’s attempt to forge their own path and refusal to follow into our footsteps? I doubt if anyone seriously thinks that handing down the family recipe for blanquette de veau trumps our duty to ensure that our progeny can continue to thrive on this Earth.

How did we get here?

Looking back on my spurt of anger that evening, I can easily imagine the despair and disappointment that young people must feel. They make a lucid, personal commitment to steering the world in a better direction, only to face not just inaction, but incomprehension and even condescendence from their parents. As for those who engage in civil disobedience, actions that are both increasingly necessary and in the general interest, we can think of nothing better than label them “eco-terrorists”.

I can easily imagine the despair and disappointment that young people must feel.

The digital revolution added a new dimension to the world, opening a rift between young people and their elders. We may be older, but that does not necessarily make us any wiser. Wisdom can hardly be measured in years at a time when knowledge lies within the grasp of anyone who seeks it. Indeed, enlightened young people understand that simpler lifestyles are necessary and can bring joy.

We may be older, but that does not necessarily make us any wiser.

It dismays me to think that for most of my working life, I was unaware of the issues I now write about. I had never heard of the Meadows Report on The Limits to Growth, even though it was published in 1972. In fact, my perception of the world only really shifted in 2015 with the publication of the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals and the Paris Agreement. I could hardly continue living as before after that. 2015 was also the year when Barack Obama said, “We are the first generation to feel the impact of climate change and the last generation that can do something about it,” making it clear that the onus to act was on us.

Yet what have we, the first generation to know about climate change, done with this knowledge? We have made lifestyle choices that have blighted our children’s prospects for generations to come. This leaves us with two choices. We can either applaud and support them when they take a different path, whether this means giving up eating blanquette de veau or choosing to sail back from Quebec, or we can refuse to change, bury our heads in the sand and live in a world that has become obsolete.

This leaves us with two choices.

Will we one day become collectively able to swallow our pride and tell our children that our individualism, unquestioning adherence to patriarchal cultural values and race to success led us astray? Will we ever be able to take a step back as we reflect on our professional achievements, motorways, airplanes and medical advances, and honestly answer this question: what was all this hard work for? Can we really say that we did not merely chase success, but also worked to bequeath a better world to the young people of today and tomorrow? Personally, I do not think I can. Am I alone to feel that way?

what was all this hard work for?

Why not come clean and publicly admit that we have a share of responsibility for today’s uncontrolled carbon emissions and pollution? Whatever our past actions or unsustainable former lifestyles, it is becoming urgent for us to acknowledge our mistakes. Personally, I view this piece as an opportunity to apologise to my daughter, her peers and all those that will come after them for blighting the world we are bequeathing them with our greed and ignorance.

I view this piece as an opportunity to apologise

It isn’t like me to allow my anger to boil over as I did at that dinner. When I began writing this piece, I thought I would end on an exhortation to myself to become more discerning and emotionally continent. Yet now that I am about to sign off, I realise that this surge of anger rose from the depths of my being. I don’t need any more polite chitchat with people who choose to close their eyes to the climate crisis. Youth is not a prerequisite for wanting to change the world.