Air Conditioner

In the Window of the Ark column of the Catholic Times, the director of the Jesuit Human Rights Research Center asks: Do we turn on the Air Conditioner or not?

In mid-June, a chaotic scene reminiscent of a looting spree unfolded at an appliance store in Paris, France, as citizens flocked to purchase air conditioners. France typically has little need for air conditioning due to its mild summer climate and strict installation regulations; consequently, the penetration rate of air conditioners stands at a mere 25%.

However, as relentless heatwaves pushed temperatures above 40°C, forcing schools to close and casualties to mount, the issue of air-conditioning use escalated from a matter of daily personal choice to a national political controversy. Seizing the opportunity, far-right factions considered air conditioning a "fundamental right for survival." They incited public sentiment by claiming that "climate dictators" were driving people to their deaths by imposing guilt on those who use air conditioners. This narrative is gaining significant traction and spreading rapidly.

Two main arguments have long competed regarding how to address the climate crisis. "Climate adaptation" refers to measures that protect lives—such as turning on air conditioners—for those immediately suffering from heatwaves. In contrast, "climate mitigation" involves transforming the energy systems that power those air conditioners to run on renewable energy and remodeling urban infrastructure. Yet "adaptation" and "mitigation" should not be pitted against each other in this manner. 

The greater problem, however, is that such a distinction obscures the true nature of the climate crisis. The choice to turn on the air conditioner places the entire burden of guilt or discomfort on the individual, regardless of the decision made. We need a different kind of language—one that advocates changing the societal mechanisms that endanger our ecosystem while simultaneously protecting the lives of those who bear the consequences first.

The question we must ask regarding the climate crisis is not whether to use air conditioning, but why we have built cities and societies in which survival is difficult without it. The climate crisis is not caused by individuals indiscriminately consuming electricity. Its root causes lie in an economic system that equates endless production and consumption with growth, industrial policies centered on fossil fuels, and an industrial system that has offloaded the costs of carbon emissions onto society at large to maximize profits. Recently, corporations have also begun to take an active lead in implementing "carbon neutrality" policies, such as reducing emissions and adopting renewable energy; they, too, recognize the climate crisis as a serious threat to their capital. This has given rise to concepts like "green growth" and "sustainable development."

Avoiding disposable products out of concern for the environment is certainly a worthwhile practice. However, such actions alone cannot address the root of the problem. In fact, the satisfaction derived from "eco-friendly consumption" can hinder the more fundamental actions required—namely, holding politicians and corporations accountable and demanding alternatives. 

Our sense of relief can serve to uphold the status quo. Corporations leverage an "eco-friendly" image to appease consumers' consciences while maintaining business models that drive mass production and excessive consumption. Ultimately, our good intentions should serve as a starting point for societal change, not as an absolution that masks structural problems. 

Through the concept of "integral ecology," Pope Francis proposed a fundamental solution in which ecological conversion and the transformation of social structures go hand in hand. For those of us accustomed to excessive convenience and endless consumerism, willingly embracing "ecological inconvenience" is not merely an act of patience or sacrifice. It is akin to a declaration of spiritual independence—breaking free from the shackles of the "fake happiness" promoted by capital and reclaiming sovereignty over our own lives. It represents a beautiful form of resistance: preserving the dignity of life and redefining "true happiness" on our own terms amidst a capitalist system racing toward catastrophe. The ecological sensibility cultivated through small, everyday actions forms a solid emotional foundation for the "climate politics" that transforms structures.

To overcome the crises of climate, labor, and life itself, we need not merely "another form of growth," but "another world." Those who must bear the brunt of the climate crisis are always real people with distinct faces. This sense of solidarity—knowing that our ecological choices alleviate the suffering of vulnerable groups plagued by climate disasters and contribute to the life of the global community—imbues our lives with an existential depth that the material abundance provided by capital can never fill. It is also a process of cultivating, from within, the "good life" that we can envision.