Simply by not electing George W. Bush for a third term, the election results last Tuesday were the best news for the environment on the national level in years. The choices were seemingly a vast improvement: the very first Senate act proposed to deal with the threat of climate change had the Republican nominee, John McCain's, name on it. Barack Obama, the Democratic candidate, vocally supported the development of alternative fuels (particularly corn-based ethanol, which has nothing to do with the vast amounts of corn growing in Illinois). In debates, moderators failed to ask many questions about the environment, and both candidates seized on convenient buzz phrases where multiple goals intersected, like “energy independence” and “clean coal technology”. (I really don't know what “clean coal” means. It sounds to me like “clean dirt”. Or “living dead”.)

But as the campaigns progressed, McCain's message grew a little mixed: “Drill, baby, drill!” seemed to resonate more with the crowds, who could barely afford the gas to drive themselves out, than “Learn to rely more on alternative sources of energy, baby, learn to rely more on alternative sources of energy...” Then, his choice of Sarah “Shootin' Wolves From Helicopters” Palin, governor of those pristine plains of Alaska just teeming with oil desperate to bubble up and produce residual checks for its citizens, seemed to cement his indifference towards environmental causes. Meanwhile, Obama periodically – thought not frequently – brought up his environmental goals. When pressed by Tom Brokaw to name the order in which he would pursue his agenda in case he's strapped for cash (like, if he's got a 700 billion dollar hole in his wallet), Obama named new energy research as the number one priority. In literally the last twenty-four hours of the campaign, the McCain camp desperately grasped for a controversy in releasing a tape of Obama telling a reporter he would bankrupt coal companies who polluted.

But the election of Barack Obama actually does far, far more for the environment than simply the results that his policies will produce. Or the fact that he won't, say, appoint a timber industry lobbyist to head our Forest Service. The sense of responsibility to a higher cause has permeated his campaign, from his roots as a community organizer to his plans to expand non-military programs for serving your country. He used Father's Day to to level criticism on deadbeat dads. The most fascinating, and inspiring, aspect of Barack Obama's message of hope is that it comes coupled with an equal call for every American to do their part – and Americans still overwhelmingly supported it. In Obama's terms, “hope” doesn't equal “handout” (if it did, he would never have garnered so many Republican votes...) On the contrary, Obama is calling for an end to the thirty-year reign of politics of greed. Politicians rattled the bogeyman of higher taxes and liberal waste, masquerading as “Joe The Plumber”-style populists protecting your wallets, then opened up the federal government to a Wall Street feeding frenzy that eventually bankrupted both.

The fact is, Obama's message goes far beyond any vote he may have cast as a senator on behalf of the environment (although he did cast a few). The only way we can have the kind of sea change necessary to stave off the disastrous effects of climate change is if everybody accepts that they have to do their part. That we each have a personal responsibility to something greater, and we have to be willing to sacrifice.

The absurd irony of politics is that everyone knows the problems that have to be solved, but it's nearly impossible for a politician to admit the sacrifices it will take. Consider California's Proposition 2, which passed by over 60% last Tuesday. On a ballot filled with sometimes rather confusing jargon, the point of the prop was comically simple: Shall chickens be allowed to spread their wings and turn around in their cages? The cages that they spend their entire lives in? I think part of the reason it breezed through while most other props failed is that a lot of people probably never realized that chickens couldn't spread their wings or turn around in their cages. But, perhaps cynically, I also wonder if part of the reason is that there was no tax leveled against people to make this happen. The factory farms paid the price. But what if it did cost us something? How much more per carton of eggs would it be worth? Ten cents? To know that the act of eating these eggs doesn't support a system slightly less humane than the android overlords harvesting life juice on people farms in the Matrix series?*

We have a responsibility to the world we live in. It's a rare politician who's willing to remind us of this, and even more rare for the people to elect them. I am reminded of a news story I read or heard so many years ago that I may as well say I made it up, because I really don't recall any details. But it was this: an airplane was traveling somewhere and the pilot announced that a dog was in the lower compartment, with the luggage, and that something malfunctioned and the dog was at risk of freezing to death. They could save the dog, but they needed to land the plane, and to do that they needed a majority vote from the passengers. Everyone agrees that it's right to save a dog's life. But is it worth making a stop in Des Moines?

The passengers did the right thing. And on Tuesday, the American people did as well.

(*To those of you who are wondering, “How could you possibly suggest that factory farms are less humane than The Matrix, where the humans spend their entire lives in a coma being sucked dry by robots?” Consider this: chickens don't have their brains wired up to a virtual reality database in which they're relaxing on a beach sipping Mai Tais with a handsome rooster.)