There is something surreal about the current climate talks in Bali. Think about it this way…
Life is good in the penthouse suites. The open and airy lofts boast the latest in sleek Italian furniture, the ultimate in German kitchen design, and screening rooms with state of the art plasma screens and surround sound systems.
Money is no object. The owners are, well, “financially comfortable” (some would say plain rich). They enjoy the best wines from around the world, champagne from France, beef from Japan (sometimes Argentina), caviar from Russia and bottled mineral water from the finest springs.
Only one thing is puzzling about the penthouse suites. The blinds are drawn. And the air-conditioning is running in the winter. Delivery staff rushes in and out, leaving sooty clothes and oxygen tanks at the door. Because, you see, there is trouble in penthouse paradise. It sits atop a building that is now surrounded by fire and is beginning to smolder.
This is not news to the people in the penthouse, or to anyone else in the building. In fact, the building association has known about the approaching fire for many, many years. Back in 1992, it even adopted a framework agreement with the objective to avert a “dangerous” fire hazard.
In retrospect, the 1992 agreement is nothing short of remarkable. It acknowledged that the building faced a long-term but potentially catastrophic threat and that precautionary action was required in the interest of present and future inhabitants of the building. It also recognized that the fire was a common concern of all inhabitants, from the wealthiest owners in the penthouse to the poorest tenants in the basement apartments.
Perhaps most importantly, the building association agreed that all inhabitants had common but differentiated fire fighting responsibilities. And there is no denying that there are striking differences between penthouse and basement dwellers.
The units on the top two floors are spacious and inhabited by affluent small families or couples. On the next floor or so the units are smaller but still comfortable, with upwardly mobile, mortgage-paying inhabitants. These units, and the penthouse suites, are reached by separate elevators. For good reason.
The remaining floors and the basement are over-crowded and run-down. In many cases, inhabitants live without electricity or running water, and in unsafe conditions. Many tenants pay extortionate rents to top floor owners or do menial jobs for them. There is often no money to buy the bare necessities in water or supplies. So, although they find this difficult to understand, the penthouse dwellers are not all that popular in the rest of the building.
This is the reality that the building association recognized in 1992, leading it to agree that the top floor dwellers should take the lead in fire-fighting, and should assist other residents in their efforts. At the time, there was general agreement – excepting perhaps the owners of the largest penthouse suite – that the principle of common but differentiated responsibilities reflected the need for an equitable and pragmatic approach to fire fighting.
In 2007, some of the penthouse dwellers seem to have had a change of heart and mind. They agree that the fire is a serious threat and say they are committed to fighting it. But, at the most recent meeting of the building association, the owners of the suite adjacent to the largest penthouse have also been saying that a review of the original agreement is needed to assess its adequacy and its basic premises, including the idea of differentiated responsibilities.
All residents, say these penthouse dwellers, must take on fire-fighting commitments. We will not do anything unless you, including those of you in the basement, do too. After all, some might even think, the lower floors will burn first. Meanwhile, we insulate our penthouse, improve the ventilation system, and order plenty of water to hose down the walls.
Never mind that it was our life-styles that stoked the flames over the last few decades. Never mind that we have the resources and know-how to aggressively fight the fire. Never mind that, if we don’t act now, the building will sooner or later come crashing down. And never mind that we have nowhere else to go – that this is the only building in town. We’ll keep the blinds pulled, turn up the air-conditioning, order some more caviar, and champagne to wash it down. Cheers!