Monthly Archives: December 2007

DocumentWrite(“Happy” Year++ “and” CO2– -)

Playing with  fireI separated the eggs last night for the eggnog. The pie crust for the pumpkin pies is ready to be rolled. The fireworks have been bought and await us at friends Jenny and Alan’s house in Muidenberg, and Clan Fitzgerald is getting ready to head out the door for New Years.

Me, I’ll be thinking about absent friends in the distant South aboard the Esperanza, scanning the horizon for whalers (check out their lovely pan-lingual Happy New Years greetings), and reflecting on the year that was.

2007 was the year in which the climate skeptics finally got beaten back, a decade after the Kyoto Protocol was signed. It was the year that the idea of the simplest of energy efficiency measures, the banning the incandescent lightbulb came of age, with Ireland taking the lead to get rid of it by 2009. It was the year we heard the leader of an EU country say that every decision his government makes from now on will be made in light of its impact on the climate. It was the year that 600 people stripped naked on a glacier in an artisitic demonstration of human and planetary vulnerability.

It was the year that the world failed once again to stop the decimation of fisheries around the world, and the year I became convinced my kids kids will think of tuna the way we think of caviar.

In 2007, Russia began the grab for the oil beneath the Arctic, kicking off what may turn into the biggest global territorial dispute since World War I. We’ll see more nations grapple to claim more and more undersea resources in the coming two years, as the Law of the Sea marches toward new and still ambiguous laws about who owns what beneath the waves.

It was a good year for whales, with Iceland ending their commercial hunt, Japan backing off on their humpback quota, and the International Whaling Commission restored to a majority of conservation votes.

Apple Computers bowed to Greenpeace pressure and pledged to remove the most dangerous chemicals from its production line, in a victory for the campaign against Electronic Waste. Our Green my Apple website won a webby and accolades as a new brand of Web2.0 Activism.

The lungs of the world got a much-needed reprieve when a campaign we launched against Amazon-destroying soy plantations turned McDonalds from a zero into a hero — negotiating a moratorium on new soy plantings with fellow soy buyers which has stopped one particulary fast and heinous form of deforestation.

If 2007 was the year the world woke up to the need for action on climate change, 2008 has to be the year it leaps out of bed, downs a pot of black coffee, and heads out the door running to do something about it. This is the year I turn 50, and there’s a particular personal poignancy to the message that we have about 10 years — or more compellingly stated, about 100 months — to turn the fossil fuel economy around and start pushing CO2 levels down.

So a Happy New Year to all — let’s make it an activist year to remember.

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My son saved Mister Splashy Pants!!!

Doon's Christmas Wish OrnamentI thought I’d take the day off yesterday. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I woke up to the news that Japan had at last confirmed a rumour we’d been chasing for the last couple months, that they were going to back down on the humpback quota. And, albeit for the happiest of reasons, there went my day. Despite the fact we’d prepared a reactive line and story for this eventuality days ago, when one of our sources gave us a tip, the Gods of the mandatory three-continent and one ship consultation process still required homage, and I spent most of the day on skype and email and bad phone connections. At the moment I had this web story ready to publish, my wireless connection went down. I had been, uncharacteristically, shouting at people to hurry up massaging sentences and signing off on language, as I watched our peak European web traffic time slide by without news of the biggest event this whaling season mentioned on the Greenpeace.org front page. So let’s say I was a little stressed. And there I was with a dead connection and a half hour of lost edits. I tore down to the basement and shouted at my nine year old son to get off Nikita the Cheetah, our hardwired rig, where he was playing Harry Potter. “BUT I HAVEN’T SAVED MY GAME!!!” He wailed. Poor kid. Dad wasn’t too understanding about his lost data issue at that moment.

But the fact is, Doon is the reason those whales got saved.
When the news had come in that morning, I ran over to tell him the humpbacks were safe for this year anyway, and we did some happy high-fives while Martha went running to the Christmas tree saying “Doony got his wish!”

At school the kids had made ornaments on which they’d hung a Christmas wish. And my boy, bless him, didn’t wish for a Wii or a new bike, he’d written “I hope that whales won’t die.”

And there it was — the 100th monkey, the camel’s straw, the ornament that saved the whales. Don’t let anybody tell you it was high level negotiations at the International Whaling Commission. Diplomatic pressure from Australia? Nah. The growing split between the Japanese Fisheries Agency and the Foreign Ministry? Not a chance.

Mister Splashy Pants got saved by all of us who added weight to the public outrage, and the final tiny couple of grams that sent things to the tipping point was a green strip of paper with a sentence in Dutch, bending a bough here in my living room.

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What sites drove the most traffic to vote for Mister Splashy Pants?

sp.jpg

If you have followed our online competition to name a humpback whale that we tagged in the Pacific, you know that the winner, by a nautical mile, was Mister Splashypants.

But who owns the bragging rights for MSP’s massive votes?

Mine, mine, mine, mine! is the chorus we’re hearing. From b3ta to geenstijl.nl to Fark and from Reddit to Treehugger, from pranksters who think they PWNED Greenpeace to supporters of the name who think they trounced eco-snobs to gen-u-ine whale lovers who saw Mister Splashy as the whale’s Ambassador to New Audiences, everybody thinks they own the win. And everybody does.

I’ve had several messages from Greenpeace colleagues who have looked at a site like retecool.com and said “Hey! I found the reason Mister Splashy Pants won! This site, see, they were telling people to vote for him!”

But looking at the stats behind the top 500 referrers to the Mister Splashy Pants vote page, we can see that no one site sent anything close to a majority of the 119,000+ votes that Mister Splash Pants got in out Humpback naming competition.

I’m working up a more official blog on this for the Greenpeace weblog, but here’s a sneak peek at the Google Analytics. (Reddit actually tops the stats, but they used a malformed URL which means a separate report, and an easy glimpse of who grabbed their url from Reddit.)

This was a genuine, unexpectedly viral campaign that took up a life of its own in the hands of the name’s supporters.

Here’s two comments which appeared on Treehugger.com, which i think about sum up the Mister Splashy Pants phenomena:

First comment
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“Mr. Splashy Pants” sounds like something children say to a boy who had a little yellow accident. Silly name for such a majestic animal.
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Second comment
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I’m guessing you missed the first post? With almost 200 comments, I’m willing to bet that the vast majority of them are in the camp that would consider you an eco-snob. This story has become more about an internet marketing phenomenon (in support of the whales), than merely a naming contest. You might want to check it out.

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Aye, very like a whale…

Mister Splashy Pants Spike

Humpback Whale Mister Splashy Pants’ characteristic dorsal fin is easily recognisable in this snap from the Google Analytics stats for weblog.greenpeace.org.

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What nearly killed Mister Splashy Pants…

Mister Splashy Pants

Ok, we all thought it was a funny name: when we launched our name-a-whale competition, we had over 11,000 entries that we split up among our Communications Team members to select five each to go forward as finalists. We had poetry, we had mythology, we had emotional, we had funny: and we had Mister Splashy Pants.

We’ve done online naming competitions before; our ship, Esperanza, was named in just such a contest. So we knew one of the first rules of internet naming competitions: gather suggestions from everywhere, then appoint a panel to go through the names, narrow it down to a set of finalists, and then set the audience to vote on those. Key to this is making sure that you can live with any of the names on your final list, otherwise you court disasters like the Steven Colbert Bridge in Hungary.

I got the block of 2000 names which included Mister SP, which was like getting the whistle in a box of Cracker Jack instead of one of those lame temporary tattoos. All my spreadsheet said was that it had been submitted by Omar of the UK.

Now, did I immediately put the name in my top 5? I would like to say I did, but I didn’t. And what made me hesitate?
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