This is a moral claim, not a policy claim. I’m not making an argument about carbon taxes or the Green New Deal or what the federal government should mandate. I’m saying that choosing to burn fossil fuels when viable alternatives exist is, at this point, a morally wrong choice — the same way it was morally wrong to choose a discriminatory vendor when non-discriminatory alternatives were available, even before it was illegal.
The argument is simple. The harm is established. The alternatives exist. The choice is available.
The harm is established
We are past the point where climate change is a scientific controversy. The uncertainty that remains is about severity and timing, not causality. We know that burning carbon releases CO2, that CO2 increases atmospheric temperatures, that temperature increases cause cascading effects — drought, displacement, habitat destruction, sea level rise, weather intensification.
The harm is not hypothetical. It is present tense and accelerating.
You may disagree about the degree of harm, the attribution of specific events, or the relative urgency compared to other moral priorities. But “we are causing harm” is not a contested scientific position. Anyone arguing otherwise is not engaging in good faith.
The alternatives exist
I drive an EV in Big Sky, Montana. I charge it at home. The winters are cold, which affects range, but it’s a negligable percentage. The infrastructure gap is real in some places but narrowing.
Solar is cheaper than every other form of obtaining and producing energy. Period. Heat pumps work at cold temperatures — the “they don’t work in winter” claim was true of older technology 30 years ago and is no longer generally true. Induction cooking is better than gas (see related essay). Insulation improvements are mundane and high-ROI.
The alternatives are not perfect, not free, and not uniformly available. But for most people making most energy choices in 2026, there are viable alternatives. The question is not “can I?” but “will I?”
The choice is available
“I had no choice” is an exculpating condition. If you live somewhere with no EV charging infrastructure and no reliable alternative, your gas car isn’t a moral failure — it’s a constraint. If you’re in a rented apartment where the landlord controls the appliances, your gas stove isn’t your moral responsibility.
But most of the people making most of the carbon-producing choices in the developed world have options. They know they have options. They choose not to exercise them — because it’s inconvenient, because it’s expensive, because they don’t want to think about it, because they’ve decided their individual contribution doesn’t matter.
That last one is the hardest to counter because it’s numerically kind of true. Your individual choice to drive a gas car does not meaningfully change the global temperature. But that logic applies equally to every individual choice across every moral domain. Your individual vote doesn’t determine the election. Your individual purchase of sweatshop goods doesn’t determine labor conditions. Moral responsibility doesn’t scale out of existence just because your contribution is small.
What I’m not saying
I’m not saying people who drive gas cars are evil. There are narrow(!) use cases. And throwing away a perfectly good car doesn’t make economic sense unless your miles driving x gas price hits the threshold. This is are area where incentive programs would do real good.
I’m saying that “I know this causes harm, viable alternatives exist, and I’m choosing not to use them because it’s inconvenient” is a morally insufficient position — and that calling it out directly is more honest than tiptoeing around it with neutral language about “choices” and “transitions.”
The reason I make the moral claim explicitly is that I think the softness of the climate conversation has been a strategic error. We spent 20 years talking about facts and policies when what was needed was a clearer statement of the moral stakes. The facts are settled. The moral case needs to be made.
We know what this is. We’re choosing to do it anyway. That’s what moral failure looks like.