School for the City, het initiatief voor onderzoek en onderwijs naar de stad, organiseerde begin 2024 in samenwerking met onderzoeksplatform One Planet Port drie avonden over de toekomst van de Rotterdamse haven. Ik was alle avonden aanwezig om af te sluiten met een ter plekke geschreven column. Het resultaat: een nieuwsbericht over ’s wereld eerste klimaatdode, het hertelde sprookje van de grote boze haven, en een gastcolumn van de haven zelf.

• Bezoek de websites van School for the City en One Planet Port
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Good to know: I wrote these columns on my own behalf, so independently from my regular work or from the organisation behind Back to School. Thanks for understanding! 

13 februari 2024: ’s werelds eerste vrijwillige klimaatdode

Hi. As being said, I’m an investigative journalist.

The good news is that tonight, the others done all investigation for me.

The bad news is that now all my work is done.

In order not to go home empty handed, I’ve written a news article about tonight, to share the investigative insights that struck me most.

I have to say that, in the best tradition of journalism, not everything in it is true. Not everything that I wrote down happened. Yes, I dotted down what was said. But I also tried hearing between the lines, noted what I think was meant, and made explicit what was deemed necessary, but was left unspoken.

Peaceful evening of study ends in designation of world’s first voluntary climate casualty

Rotterdam, Feb. 13, 2024

‘Steve,’ a 24-year-old man from Rotterdam, has volunteered to serve as the world’s first climate casualty. In doing so, he wants to urge the port of Rotterdam to become more sustainable faster. Steve expressed this wish during ‘Back to school with One Planet Port’, an apparently peaceful evening of study about making the port of Rotterdam more sustainable.

During the evening, professor Harry Geerlings explained that a transition poses us with an enormous challenge. According to him, it is not a matter of technological revolution, but of willingness implement these. Although Geerlings referred to companies, Steve immediately expressed his willingness to increase the urgency for transition by becoming world’s first voluntary climate casualty.

“I have a drafty rental house with a temporary contract, no desire for children, and a freelance job that consists of posting pancake related pictures on Instagram,” he explained his choice. “On Tiktok, only my mom responds to my videos about my two rabbits. So I think I am the chosen one to do this.”

Steve understands that it will sound strange to the outside world that he is voluntarily doing this for the climate. But for those who attended the evening, his choice makes more sense. Both host Lyn Vanheule as Geerlings made it very clear that nothing less than drastic measures could accelerate the transition and make the seemingly impossible possible.

“Ports play a vital role in facilitating and steering the ecological transition”, remarked Vanheule. “The port of Rotterdam is the biggest port of Europe and has the largest petrochemical complex. It is the lifeblood of our economy. It sounds logical that a transition demands our own blood.”

“The current actions to change the port are non-transparant, insecure and slow”, Vanheule continued. “A climate casualty is exactly the opposite: it is visible, irreversible and fast.”

Geerlings referred to events from the past to inspire the audience, such as Steve. “Innovative inventions such as the coal transporter and the Spido changed the industry back in the 19th century. Who says that a climate casualty can’t do the same?”

Steve was especially struck by the observation that we’re on the highway to hell with our foot still on the accelerator. “Geerlings made a perfectly valid point that we need to do it together. I think I should take one for the team.”

The exact date and execution of Steve’s climate choice will be worked out at the next two meetings of Back to School with One Planet Port. Steve still stands by his choice. “I think my rabbits will be proud of me.”

5 maart 2024: The harbour and the three children

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful green harbour in a city far, far away. There, in Rotterdam, lived a mother called Lynn. She lived there with her three children: Merel, Joris and Elida.

Mother Lynn lived there very nicely. But more and more often she could not sleep. From the West, she saw black clouds drifting over her house again and again. They were coming from the harbour, which was becoming less and less green!

One dark day, she called her children to her. “Merel, Joris and Elida, do you see that? And do you smell that?” The three children nodded. “Our green harbour was very beautiful for a very long time. But she is becoming greyer and greyer. You have to move into the harbour and make it green again. But watch out! In the harbour walks the big bad Boudewijn, the boss of the harbour. He will do everything he can to stop you.”

Full of good spirits, the three children set off. Merel went to work first. In Pernis, she came across a calculator and the annual reports of the port authority. With these, she built an intricate data house, built on a foundation of rings full of megatons of methane emissions. She sweetly named her data house ‘research on full life cycle greenhouse gas emissions of fossil resources imported in the port of rotterdam’. Full of pride, she looked around: this is going to convince mankind and save the port!

But then she heard a knock-knock-knock on her data house. It was the big bad Boudewijn! “Little Merel, little Merel, let me board” “Not by the CO2 emissions of my portly port port!”

That infuriated the big angry Boudewijn. “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll emission your green port down!”

And puff! Merel’s data house collapsed. Figures lay everywhere, abandoned and forgotten. Merel quickly ran away. “You’ll never get me green!”, the big angry Boudewijn shouted after her, with an evil laugh. “Grey is the new green!”

Then it was Joris’ turn. He was walking through the Maasvlakte and came across a thick tome: the Responsible Business Conduct Standards. While reading, he fell asleep almost immediately. Would that be the solution to attack the grey port with? Joris built a sturdy house out of a powerpoint presentation, with walls of slides full of text and long words. If the big bad Boudewijn saw that, he would be lulled to sleep.

For a moment, his approach seemed to succeed. The big angry Boudewijn came running furiously, but was soon soothed by terms like OECD guidelines, corporate responsibilities and slagers that keur their own vlees.

But the big bad Boudewijn was a shrewd port boss. He pinched himself awake with reminders of the 2023 coal profit figures, and breathed deeply. “Little Joris, little Joris, let me board” “Not by the CO2 emissions of my porty port port!”

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll emission your green port down!”

And poof – there Joris’ powerpoint presentation went crashing down. Shaking his head, the big bad Boudewijn saw Joris running away. “Run far away, with your blood coal and your coal cruises! The harbour is and always will be grey!”

Last to go was Elida. She tackled it closer to home: on the Wilhelminakade – opposite the house of the big bad Boudewijn himself! Joris and Merel joined her. “Watch out, Elida, the big bad Boudewijn is coming, and he wants to destroy us! The grey harbour is sacred to him!”

But Elida was no fool. She had been to the port of Texas once and knew exactly how it had become grey: with few rules and inspections, and lots of resources and business models. So she built a house that looked like an LNG Terminal. And to lure the big bad Boudewijn, she was flaring briskly and laying out biscuits dipped in LNG.

The Big Bad Boudewijn could not resist the temptation. Biscuits with LNG! Chimneys flaring! The business model of an LNG Terminal! “Little Elida, little Elida, let me board” “Not by the CO2 emissions of my porty port port!”

But since the big bad Boudewijn did not want to harm his new LNG Terminal, he decided to climb in through the chimney. What he did not know is that Elida had set up a large cooking pot underneath, containing water straight from Lake Boehmer, full of nitrogen sulphites and other toxins.

“I’m coming to get you!”, it sounded from the chimney. But that’s why the big bad Boudewijn fell into the cauldron, perishing from his own eagerness.

Merel, Joris and Elida fell into each other’s arms: they had defeated the big bad Boudewijn! Now they could really start making everything that had turned grey green again.

And the port? That one lived greenily ever after.

26 maart 2025: I am the port. Hi!

You have a problem.

A big problem.

You have spent the past three evenings having a great time together talking about the transition of the port of Rotterdam. Everything has to change! Fossil out, ships out, companies out, everything out. One Planet Port, go go go!

And how you all agreed! My goodness, so much agreement. For form’s sake, you caught each other on some details and asked some critical questions, but that was about it.

That’s all very cute, of course. Were it not for the fact that you forgot the most important thing.

The port.

Because where was the port tonight? Or last time? Or the time before that?

Not here. While you were talking, the port lay nicely where it had been for centuries. Unhindered, undisturbed, undisputed and unthreatened, it continued to do what it’s so good at: throwing in raw materials, throwing out CO2, generating money.

Let me try to fill the gap that the port left these evenings. Because: keep your friends close, but keep your ports closer.

…

I am the port. Hi!

I am the port and I loved everything you were talking about. About how my eternal quest for profit has shaped the port. About how people in Africa are suffering because of my hunger for blood coal. About how my sister in Houston is poisoning the earth. About how many planetary boundaries I cross. About how trade and shipping threaten the Paris Agreement. About how I reject fundamental transformation.

Yes, yes, yes, yes. All true. All equally bad. Bad port.

But yeah.

Big deal.

Knock yourselves out, in your little room three high up. Nice that you are now even more convinced that I am evil. Enjoy it. But it does nothing for me.

Let me tell you why none of this matters to me. Because I have four tactics to parry all your pinpricks. If I feel them at all.

1: I ignore you. Whatever. Politics, activism, ideals: the left, your left, is dead. You guys are the Don Quixote of economics. So whatever you think, it doesn’t matter. Go ahead, do your best, but we’ll keep spinning. Bye!

2: I sympathise with you. Your goals, I will say full of pathos, are my goals! Let’s work together! Pull together! Kumbaya! Even Jan Rotmans worked with me, so I must be the good guy!

Next, I will hug you com-ple-te-ly to death. I will organise hackathons to solve all problems via IT. Post-it sessions to think out of the box. And, go crazy, I’ll even ask one of those hipster drawing guys to summarise the evening in an illustration that everyone agrees on and that emanates zero urgency.

And then, tomorrow, back to business as usual. Bye bye!

3: I convince you. I have drawers and drawers, cupboards and cupboards, floors and floors, harddrives and harddrives with white papers from Deloitte, roadmaps from EY, research papers from Erasmus University, even shiny videos from McKinsey. And they all say the same thing: I will get there! Because I have CCS and CCU. Blue hydrogen. Plastics to chemicals. And chain integration, lots of chain integration, because no one at all knows what it is yet.

Sure, it’s taking a bit longer than I said before, but it’s coming! Just a very short wait! Almost! Almost! Bye bye!

4: I pull out my favourite rabbit from my top hat: the level playing field. Because if you make it too hard for me with an uneven level playing field, I’ll argue tearfully, I’ll leave. Boo hoo hoo. To Germany. Belgium. England, god forbid. Or, if there’s a European law on the horizon: Texas. China. Qatar. And there I work even more polluting than here. We shouldn’t want that, should we?

Moreover, I am the engine of BV Nederland. 100 million jobs, ten trillion contribution to gross domestic product, green future visions full of stock photos of hands holding a globe: we can claim the craziest things, and people believe it. Or, as my favourite usual idiots at the VVD and VNO-NCW keep proclaiming at every opportunity: de wereld warmer, Nederland armer. Bye bye!

…

Psssst. You didn’t get it from me, but there is secretly something I do fear. The law. Apparently, judges make binding rulings if I break the law.

For a long time, I thought judges would have better things to do. But the other day I had an appointment with Schiphol, my flying brother. And he told me some nasty things there! The judge thinks he really has to comply with environmental law! You can’t work like that, can you? Even my father, the central government, has to work on CO2 emissions because of such a judge. And then there are my pals Shell, ING and Tata, who suddenly have to trade in their greenwashing for real action. What a travesty.

So go crazy. Start looking for where I am pushing and violating my legal boundaries. Find concrete victims of my work, like Hoekenezen with dust lungs from coal transhipment, or migraine sufferers in Hoogvliet because of refineries. Tilt public and political opinion against me by making it clear how little I actually contribute to local society. Come up with both real and inspiring alternatives to the status quo. Make it clear that things can and should be different. Help me change.

And who knows, who knows, one day there will be a one planet port.

Bye bye!