Six people are walking towards a Shell garage in Edinburgh. It’s early morning, just before rush-hour. Fluorescent jackets read “Oil Spill Response Unit”, which looks official enough. They are all silent.
One of them asks herself, not for the first time: why am I doing this? Is this really a good idea? Have I thought this through? It’s not too late to walk away …
The nerves are overwhelming. It’s as if she is somebody else, watching, urging her to turn back. She can feel her heart beating in her throat and she has a strong going-to-be-sick feeling. They get closer, and the time for turning back has passed. Everyone sticks to the plan.
After the oil is turned off at the emergency switch, the clock is ticking. In London, several other roving teams are doing the same thing. It’s all being filmed, and it’s going out live.
The man behind the counter objects immediately. Clutching his letter from Greenpeace, he storms out on to the forecourt. He punches some numbers in to his phone, but the emergency switch is already on its way to the post box. Today, Greenpeace are sending a strong message to Shell CEO Peter Voser – or quite a few, they hope.
They have to work quickly. As they’re locking up the pumps, the man talks to his boss. There are people here, he says. They say they’re from Greenpeace. They say they’re shutting us down because Shell is drilling for oil in the Arctic, and they don’t like this. They’re aiming to shut down every Shell petrol station in London and Edinburgh.
The final lock clicks in to place, and they begin to walk away. He asks them to come back, but they can’t do that. She hopes that he reads his letter, for a full explanation. She hopes that he will understand. She hopes that what they have done will make a difference.
Because if it doesn’t, what will we tell our grandchildren? If the oil companies go in, and spill oil everywhere, will we tell them about polar bears? About narwhals? How about Arctic foxes? Will we tell them that it was an accident? That we sort of had a plan to clean it up, but not really?
If the Arctic is destroyed, and there is no ice left, can we honestly say that we did what we could? That we all tried our best to reduce our dependence on oil, but that we were too late to save the Arctic? That all the profits from oil drilling went towards investing in renewable energy sources, and so that made it ok? Can we say that? Is it the truth?
Could you explain to your grandchildren why we were prepared to risk going to the ends of the earth to drill for oil in an extremely fragile environment for what is only enough oil to cover the global demand for three years?
Have you ever seen the Arctic? How would you describe it? Will you tell your grandchildren about it? Will anyone?
This story isn’t over yet and you can be a part of it. You can tell your grandchildren about that time you helped to write history and joined a worldwide campaign to #SavetheArctic.
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