IF 2019 was the year the climate justice movement broke into the spotlight, 2020 did its level best to push it right back into the shadows. A certain Ms Corona flew in like a bat out of hell — and with that, the political, media and public attention finally afforded to the issue was waylaid once again.

Unfortunately, climate change has not paused for the pandemic, and the short-term benefits which global lockdowns have had on carbon emissions are nowhere near enough to slow the catastrophic trajectory of global warming. There isn’t time to wait for one disaster to be done and dusted ­before moving on to the next, and given that climate change threatens a great many more lives and livelihoods, doing so could be the gravest casualty of Covid-19.

The good news is that many of the ­ongoing lessons from the pandemic and the long-term changes it should inspire will be equally beneficial in responding to the challenges of the climate crisis. So, what are some key points we can take from the ­immediate crisis to better equip ourselves for the even harder future that lies ahead?

1) We are not all in the same boat. ­Despite the global reach of the Covid-19 virus and climate change, the impacts of both are far from equal. This has been ­apparent during the pandemic within countries like the UK where BAME people have lost their lives at higher rates than the wider ­population – thought to be the result of housing ­conditions, pre-existing health problems, and greater exposure in public-facing roles, all linked to economic ­inequality. ­Meanwhile, people in lower-income jobs or with childcare responsibilities (most often women) have been most likely to lose work and be pushed into hardship.

At the same time, global poverty has ­increased for the first time in two decades, and a report from the People’s Vaccine ­Alliance (including Amnesty International, Global Justice Now and Oxfam) finds that only 10% of people in 67 of the poorest countries are likely to be vaccinated this year. This is not by chance, but because rich countries with 14% of the world’s population have reserved 53% of the most ­promising vaccines.

If we can find it in ­ourselves to care about this now, we might stand a chance of ­creating a truly internationalist approach to redistributing wealth and changing a ­system which is rigged in favour of the wealthy few. This will be ­essential to tackling the climate ­crisis, which poses a far more urgent risk to people in the global south, whose lives, access to food, and ability to make a ­living hang in the ­balance — not in generations to come, but today.

2) Free market capitalism is not compatible with a “wellbeing economy”. Many people, including First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, have voiced support for an economic model whose primary ­purpose is to better the health and wellbeing of people and the planet they inhabit. But the Covid crisis has demonstrated that the current system makes achieving those aims harder, because it prizes profit above all else.

We’ve all been forced to assess what parts of the economy are really “essential”, and what parts we could do without. We’ve also seen how fragile the system is and how reliant it is on people working non-essential jobs just to make ends meet. When you’re faced with a Sophie’s Choice of spreading a deadly virus or thousands being plunged into poverty, it’s maybe time to consider that this wasn’t a well-functioning system to begin with.

That same system is the reason the Earth is careening towards an untimely end — because industries which knew the damage they were causing for decades decided that was a price worth paying for their profits. If we really want to “build back better” after the pandemic, we need to radically alter the way our economy operates and create a fairer and more ­sustainable society for everyone.

Part of this will mean ensuring a “just transition”, providing training and ­employment opportunities for people in new, green industries as a replacement for jobs lost from moving away from fossil fuels and other carbon-intensive modes of production.

3) Governments do have the power – and the money – to intervene in the economy. During the 2019 General ­Election we were led to believe that ­Labour’s ­proposal of nationalising broadband was impossible, yet within months, large parts of the private sector were ­effectively ­nationalised. By March, the UK ­Government will have been running its job retention scheme for 12 months.

And this is only one part of the ­emergency packages across the UK, with ­bailouts offered to companies, grants awarded to charities, financial incentives given to consumers, a temporary increase to Universal Credit, and free school meals extended into the holidays. It seems the “magic money tree” can, in fact, be used for good, when the circumstances ­necessitate it.

“Necessity” may be a relative concept, but given that every national government in the UK has declared a “climate emergency” there should be consensus that this calls for radical action.

In practice, this will mean introducing frequent flier taxes, carbon taxes, free public transport, and widespread pedestrian zones, as well making major ­investments in clean energy and ­decarbonised ­industry. Alongside ­creating green jobs, governments could also introduce a ­basic income to support people through the ­inevitable decline of many current forms of employment.

4) We will all need to be prepared for our way of life to change dramatically. Much of the conversation around Covid has been dominated by promises and wishes of “going back to normal”. But our idea of “normal” is going to need reconfiguring if we are serious about maintaining a habitable world.

If we’re being entirely honest, most of us want to see climate change stopped, but we also don’t want that much about our own daily lives to change. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but these two positions cannot feasibly co-exist.

Of course, we should all have the chance to be engaged in deciding exactly what those changes should look like — and hopefully our experiences of the last year can help shape our understanding of what we can and can’t live without.

5) Getting buy-in for change from across society is essential. The pandemic has proven that most people are willing to go to great lengths to protect themselves and others from harm when presented with the evidence of the difference their sacrifices will make.

It has also demonstrated that there are major challenges to maintaining public support for disruptive measures at a time when belief in conspiracy theories is at an all-time high and trust in politicians and journalists is at its lowest.

If you’ve been taken aback by just how many people see a requirement to wear masks as part of a nefarious worldwide plot, you may also be ­surprised to know that Low Traffic Neighbourhoods introduced in parts of London have been so controversial that 2500 ­people marched against them in ­September.

THESE responses can’t be a reason for inaction, but they must not be underestimated in planning for the changes ahead. Telling people they’re idiots is unlikely to change their minds; governments, the media, and the general public will all need to take a considered approach to this if we want to build a broad consensus for a greener way of living and working.

This also makes a good case for community empowerment and enabling more people to participate in democratic processes; a development which could have positive implications for many of the problems facing our society today.

There are many more parallels which could be drawn between the Covid-19 crisis and the far greater climate crisis which lies before us — the question is, will the people with the power to translate these connections into action do so, and quickly? Our future depends on it.