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Sydney Sweeney (left) and Brittany O’Grady play two of the young people trying to deal with an endless vacation in The White Lotus.

The global uncertainty that defined 2020 underscored and highlighted a question plenty of prospective parents are asking right now: Is it unethical to bring a child into a world that is crumbling? Or is having children an essential act of hope for the future? People have continued to have babies in far more dire situations than the one we’re currently in. Why would we stop now?

Still — if things keep getting worse, have you just brought a child into a world that will increasingly become uninhabitable? What happens when you bring your kids to a place where the rules you grew up with no longer hold sway? How do you cope with the idea that the world might fall apart to such a degree that they won’t have a prom, a graduation, a college education? What if it comes to that?

There are, of course, billions of people on the planet for whom horrible instability has always been a given, but the awful, democratizing effect of both Covid-19 and climate change is that their horrors are somewhat more evenly spread across the species. While the horrors that Covid-19 inflicted on privileged people around the globe have been far less cataclysmic than those inflicted on everybody else, everyone is affected by it at least a little bit, and climate change seems likely to follow a similar template.

Science-fiction writer Charlie Jane Anders recently wrote in her newsletter about just how much her fear of climate change’s effects on humanity has bled into her writing. She also observed, however, that there can be something healing in acknowledging that fear.

I’m honestly terrified of what’s coming, and the fact that we’re already starting to live through heat waves and superstorms and (maybe) zoonotic diseases doesn’t do anything to make the future climate disruption less scary. At all. We are going to suffer, all of us, in ways we’ve barely wrapped our heads around so far. And yet, I don’t think fiction about climate change needs to be disaster porn, or pure misery, or something engineered to “scare us straight.” At all. A lot of my work on climate change is about surviving and adapting.

The trick of being alive right now is pretending that everything we’re doing still matters. There is abundant evidence that nothing might be as important as humans banding together in a last-ditch effort to slow the effects of climate change, such that the planet might continue to support life as we know it. Whatever anxiety Covid-19 has provoked, including in so many artists, feels like an appetizer for the main course.

“We’re still parasites on the Earth!” one character exclaims in The White Lotus, hoping to underline the hypocrisy of his family members, who are squabbling about the right way to organize society. They all know he’s right; they also are powerless to stop being parasites. They are the super- rich, and they are loath to change their ways because it’s easier to be comfortable than to do something difficult but right. Old touches on this idea as well, in a moment I dare not spoil here. Both works are very interested in the ways in which unchecked capitalism has contributed to the state of the world, past, present, and future, but The White Lotus, in particular, is excoriating about the upper classes.

The 2020s might very well become a decade of art forged in paranoia and anxiety at the thought of a warming climate that is outpacing our ability or willingness to act before it’s too late. But art that is terrified about a slowly building apocalypse isn’t a new phenomenon. The 1920s were filled with art set in beautiful baubles of decadence that felt uneasily gleeful (or deeply traumatized) in the wake of World War I and the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic. The 1950s and ’60s were rife with art terrified by the seeming inevitability of nuclear war. We imagine our apocalypses in great detail, perhaps in hopes that we can avert them in reality.

That sense of looming apocalypse is what most unites Old and The White Lotus in the end. Old suggests that at least some of us might find a way out of our current series of existential threats; The White Lotus isn’t so sure. But for as attuned as both works are to this particular moment in time, they also have one eye on what has always been true: We’re always heading toward an ending of some sort. Every beach you visit makes you older by virtue of the time you spend there, just not as quickly as the beach in Old. The planet is going to get you eventually.

Everything we do is impermanent, regardless of whether we halt climate change. Centuries from now, if humanity exists, no one will be talking about Old or The White Lotus or this article discussing the two. People will have new concerns and new thoughts to ponder through their art. The things that are permanent — or at least as close to permanent as our conceptions of time will allow — are the ocean and the sand and the endless chain of life that stretches behind and beyond us. Having a child right now is a tremendous act of faith that things might turn out okay in the end, but having a child is always a tremendous act of faith. The world is always ending, and it’s always beginning, too. You have to make your peace with that somehow.

Or, to put it more bluntly, as one character says after watching a whale surface in the ocean in The White Lotus: “What the fuck?”

People who have been involved in climate science or activism for years still feel sorrow, despair, or rage, Heglar said. In fact, “I feel comforted by the fact I can still feel that way, because it means I’m not desensitized,” she said. “I never want to be that person who can look at the world burn and feel fine.”

But when climate grief or despair become overwhelming, the key is to reach out to others in your community. “You are not the only one feeling this way,” Heglar said, adding that “it benefits the fossil fuel industry when you think you are. So find the other people who are feeling it too.”

 Win McNamee/Getty Images
In a press conference on Tuesday, August 3, President Joe Biden told reporters that New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo should resign following the results of a state investigation into his behavior.

So, what’s next? An impeachment vote in the New York State Assembly looms, posing the threat that Cuomo could be removed from power involuntarily. But Democrats are still hoping that won’t be necessary. As New York state Sen. James Skoufis said recently, the hope is that once it’s made clear to Cuomo that his impeachment and removal is certain, he’ll resign to save some face.

Scandal-plagued politicians often don’t resign because of shame or docility, but because they’ve concluded that leaving office voluntarily is the least bad, most face- saving option for them personally.

That could still happen. But Cuomo, evidently, has not yet concluded that he’s doomed. We’ve seen politicians fend off calls for resignation and beat back impeachment efforts before, even in the face of seemingly damning evidence. If Cuomo keeps refusing to go, Democrats will have two options to oust him against his will: 1) through impeachment, and 2) in the 2022 elections, if impeachment fails and Cuomo continues his reelection bid.

Cuomo appears headed toward impeachment

A scandal- spurred resignation is nothing new for New York Democrats, given the downfalls of Gov. Eliot Spitzer (in 2008) and Attorney General Eric Schneiderman (in 2018). But Cuomo seems to be trying a different strategy — that of Donald Trump, who stayed in both the 2016 presidential race after several women accused him of sexual misconduct and in the White House after numerous scandals. Cuomo may also be thinking about Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam: Practically every leading Democrat asked him to resign when photos showing him in blackface surfaced in 2019, but he stayed in office and has since been welcomed back into polite Democratic company.

Cuomo’s political position looks far worse than Trump’s or Northam’s, though. While some top Republicans repudiated Trump on occasion, most others remained loyal to him despite years of scandals, as did the vast majority of GOP voters. But polls already show a narrow majority of Democratic voters in the state saying Cuomo should resign.

Northam’s scandal, meanwhile, did not involve official misconduct, so impeachment never went anywhere. But leaders of the New York State Assembly, which has the power to impeach, have said they’re very serious about pursuing Cuomo’s removal and hope to make it happen within months.

 David Dee Delgado/Getty Images
On Tuesday, August 3, New York Attorney General Letitia James (center) presented the findings of an independent investigation looking into allegations of sexually harassment by Gov. Andrew Cuomo.

Impeaching a governor in the New York State Legislature plays out similarly to that of a US president in Congress. The Assembly goes first, and a majority vote there is necessary for impeachment. A trial is then held in the state Senate, with a two-thirds vote there being necessary to convict Cuomo, remove him from office, and ban him from holding future elected office in the state. (One difference is that the “jury” in a potential Cuomo impeachment trial would include 62 state senators plus seven judges of the New York State Court of Appeals, all of whom Cuomo appointed.)

Democrats hold large majorities in both the State Assembly and State Senate, so Cuomo’s fate depends on them. As with Trump, Cuomo’s best hope may be the Senate’s two-thirds threshold necessary for conviction. If just 24 senators vote no, he’ll be able to stay in power.

Still, Democrats are hoping to avoid the ugly, protracted process of impeachment by getting Cuomo to resign. One way to do that would be to make clear that he doesn’t have enough support from state senators and that the outcome truly is inevitable — if, in fact, it is.

If Cuomo survives impeachment, there’s an election next year

As of now, Cuomo still seems set on running for a fourth term as governor, and no Democrat has stepped up to challenge him in the June 2022 primary. So if he does manage to fend off impeachment — and if, improbable as it may seem today, he stays in the race — the party would face quite a dilemma.

That is, they’d need at least one strong challenger to oust Cuomo, but if several enter the race and Cuomo stays in, it may be challenging for the party to coordinate around one alternative.

According to the New York Times’s Katie Glueck, “many Democrats hope” that Attorney General Letitia James, whose office released this week’s report on the investigation into Cuomo’s conduct, will run, but it’s not clear whether she will. An early, unified party backing one challenger would be another way to send Cuomo the message that his time as governor is up.

But Cuomo could gamble that he’s more in touch with rank-and-file party voters than his critics. Glueck writes that he’s been seeking “to connect with those voters — especially older voters — who might be sympathetic to his suggestion that many of the allegations of misconduct can be traced to ‘generational or cultural’ differences or misunderstandings.” And, if things truly get to this point, it really would be those voters who make the call.

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