Joycelyn Longdon is an incoming MRes and PhD student at Cambridge University using AI to address climate resilience. She runs the online platform Climate in Colour, a platform at the intersection of climate science and social justice making climate conversations more accessible, diverse and creative. How would you describe yourself? I would call myself a thinker and feeler. A lot of people are surprised to learn that I am extremely introverted. I love spending time alone, reading, writing and just thinking — maybe that’s also because I’m a Scorpio! I feel things very deeply and am affected by the pain and struggles of others as well as being deeply connected to the ebbs and flows of my own emotions. These elements of my personality mean that I need a lot of time in silence, meditation or in ceremony with myself. These two traits are what push me to action, making me a person who cannot stand unmoved by world events, suffering or oppression. I am constantly challenging myself: how can I be of service to my friends, family, community and the world? Your work is centred on negotiating a balance between cutting-edge AI technology and indigenous systems of ancient knowledge. How can we balance science and spirituality in our approaches to climate change? I recently read an academic paper that really resonated with me called “Postcolonial Computing: A Tactical Survey”, which opened my mind to the nuances of this question. The authors suggest that, rather than perceiving these systems to be in opposition, we can choose to take the perspective of hybridization. Instead of working with a binary “Western vs. Indigenous” model, looking at solutions or approaches through a hybrid lens allows us to understand how these systems of knowledge give to and take from each other in a symbiotic relationship. AI is a hugely powerful instrument emerging in the climate space, allowing us to make deeply complex predictions about future climate events and more accurately ascertain the biggest problems facing our planet as it warms. Yet these advanced forms of prophecy point directly to events which many Indigenous groups have long been preparing for in a multiplicity of ways, including encouraging crop diversity to avoid pest-borne famine and making careful observations of the surrounding lands to avoid causing imbalances which may continue to snowball many generations later. Indigenous insight, steeped in interaction with and respect for the local environment, is profound. Composed of subtle truths and details that scientists and engineers easily miss, its long-term perspective stands in sharp contrast to the short-term quick fixes so highly favored by our culture of instantaneity. It’s vital that we take this approach to heart if we seek to achieve planet-wide systemic change that our great-grandchildren will be able to enjoy. A hybridization of human-centered and community-led AI projects can fuse state-of-the-art science with the innate environmental knowledge and lived experience of indigenous people around the world to produce solutions that can move at the pace we need them to, with fewer than 12 years left to prevent full-scale climate catastrophe according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. Yet it’s equally important not to approach this sort of work with the expectation that we in the West have so much to learn and adopt from indigenous communities: this is just as appropriative and exploitative as the reverse view. For me, the focus should lie on centering local indigenous knowledge within the climate solutions and approaches that are being created, letting communities define their own problems and lead on their own solutions from design to implementation. I think those of us working in the AI field, from entrepreneurs to engineers, need to move closer towards a collective openness of mind, the acceptance of a plurality of experience and perspectives, and cultivation of the ability to admit when we just don’t have all the answers, handing over the mic (or the keyboard) to those who do. Western methods of computing and solution-building cannot continue to be solely exported to politically marginalised regions like Africa and Latin America that constitute the Global South; the capitalist approach of exploiting human natural resources in the form of tech talent and focusing it on the growth of tech monopolies is reminiscent of the colonial era and it needs to be called out, starting now. A lot is at stake here. What can you envisage happening if we don’t make an effort to decolonize AI and technological systems from an entrenched, imperial mindset as we build them? I believe that we’ll start to see further deterioration of the African continent (and marginalized communities) where it may superficially look like they are being benefited through “development” and financial growth, but that behind the scenes the control and agency over individuals and countries is in fact held by a small group of powerful men. The global South is resource and culture rich. We’ve seen the wars, famines, internal conflict and growing dependency caused by the domination of the West over its natural resources. For me, it’s this dependency which is the most worrying — which is where the AI sector is heading. For example, Nigeria imports 90% of its software from the West. How can communities in the global South remove themselves from the Western grip when their resources, land and now code is controlled by huge monopolies? We are already seeing the encoded racism and discrimination within AI applications from policing to healthcare, and how it is impacting the most vulnerable populations in the US, UK and EU. It doesn’t make sense to have these same systems imported into countries with entirely different population profiles like Africa or India and to be honest, I have no idea what the world will look like if that becomes the case. Your course on the colonial history of climate science, exploring how European imperialism structures how we think about climate, has sold out twice. As a Black woman leading the charge against white patriarchal attitudes towards exploiting our planet, how do you feel about so many people — of all backgrounds — engaging with the painful truths you teach? It feels scary to be the one imparting this information because you don’t know how people are going to react. The reading I’ve been doing to prepare for this course has put me in a situation of “you either laugh or cry”, and so it’s hard to anticipate how feelings of guilt, disgust or disbelief will be received and processed by participants. In reality though, it has been such a rewarding experience and I am so blown away by the response I have received. The workshop has a specifically community-focused element where we come together in groups and discuss really difficult questions on themes including climate reparations, the continued use of fossil fuels in the global South, and so on. The opportunity for a group of strangers to come together — all with different backgrounds and from all over the world — to dive into and challenge one another on these complex concepts has been so amazing to observe. It goes to show that we do need to sit down with policy-makers, with scientists, with citizens, and have these messy conversations, because climate change, racism, colonialism: these are all messy subjects! As you reimagine systems of technology and land governance, what are you yourself having to unlearn? I am having to unlearn so many things. Or rather, I have so much to learn. Approaches to research, interacting with marginalized communities, making resources accessible; these are all new to me and my reading continues to take me deeper and deeper into how to engage in the most ethical, accessible and inclusive ways. I’m also learning so much about the layers of oppression and privilege and how my oppression in one area does not discount me from being in a position of unbalanced power in other situations. As someone who has moved from a low income status to a middle income status, I recognise my new privilege over those whose paychecks force them to buy the cheapest options in the grocery store regardless of the environmental consequences. Realizing this has allowed me to continue to check myself and be motivated to learn about when I should talk, when I have the right and agency to voice my opinions and experiences, and when it is time for someone else to be centred and take the mic. Eco-anxiety (the stress related to our relationship with the damaged environment) is a significant problem for many of us. How do you deal with it? Are there any routines or rituals that help you connect and ground? Every day starts with 30 mins of reading, 30 mins of yoga and meditation, sitting outside (if the weather is good) with tea and practicing gratitude. Some days I need this more than others, but it is a daily-must. Are there any words of poetry or wisdom that inspire you when you feel overwhelmed by your work? I don’t have any specific words I go to when I feel overwhelmed, but my personal visions of where I want to be, who I currently am and my value and purpose are the things that inspire me. I always feel that God is by my side and I can feel when I am on the right path (even if I am kicking and screaming down it): that presence is really comforting because I know that with that energy by my side there can be no way I will fail. Anything unexpected is not a failure because it is written and will take me to where I am supposed to be, and having experienced this first-hand I don’t need anything else to guide me.
