“Wanna go see Al Gore?” I asked Mr. P over breakfast, trolling the Harvard Book Store event calendar for visiting authors I could tolerate listening to for an hour without committing mental hari-kari.
Mr. P shrugged. I shrugged back.
“Okay,” he said.
Sure, we wanted to go. Al Gore is a global name, a respected leader, and a key figure in one of the most urgent movements of our time. He’s got Nobel Peace Prize energy. He’ll appear in history books—possibly with his own volume. So yes, we wanted to see Al Gore. But we weren’t excited, like OMIGOD EFFING AL GORE!
We arrived an hour early to line up at the Unitarian church in Harvard Square. We wanted (and got) good seats. The man behind us installed solar panels for a living; the woman in front of us was an environmental science professor. Their eco-cred made me feel a little fraudulent. Sure, I recycle. I take quick showers. I buy local arugula and avoid fast fashion. But like 99.9% of Americans, I’m not doing the planet any favors. I had, in fact, just bought a brand-new internal-combustion car the week before. And now here I was, waiting to see Al Gore.
In person, he doesn’t really look like Al Gore anymore (see photos below). The beard is gone. He’s slimmer, balding, and visibly graying. He opened with a warm anecdote about being recognized at a café in California:
“You know, if you dyed your hair black, you’d look just like Al Gore!”
Big laughs. Because yeah… it’s true.
Then came the humblebrag:
“I was on the phone this morning with the Prime Minister of Denmark…”
Of course you were. You’re Al Gore.
His hourlong talk? I won’t say it was boring—impending global doom is hard to snooze through—but his delivery is famously… dry. The voice, the pacing, the tranquil hand gestures—it’s like watching a very earnest robot explain compost. I lost the thread somewhere between alternative fuels and oil prices and gently floated in and out of consciousness.
He did light up when he got to the solution: Collective political will.
“It’s important to change the lightbulbs, but it’s more important to change the policies,” he said. “We have a democracy problem in America.”
He blamed television.
“The average American watches five hours of TV a day. And someone’s making up for me.”
(Pause for laughs.)
He explained how 80% of campaign funds go toward television ads, forcing candidates to cozy up to special interests.
“I’m not talking about corruption,” he clarified. “I’m talking about a serious defamation of American democracy.”
Which—okay—but also… is there a difference? Or just fewer subpoenas?
Despite the lack of oratorical sizzle, I walked away inspired. Everyone got a copy of Our Choice: A Plan to Solve the Climate Crisis—a glossy, textbook-style tome with photos, charts, and sidebars. No Q&A (boo), but Gore did stay to sign books. No personalizations allowed, but he looked Mr. P in the eye and said, “Thanks for coming out.” Then he looked at me and asked, “How’re you doing?”
I’m fine, Al Gore. I just bought a gas-powered car and now I’m reading your climate crisis textbook on recycled paper. We’re all doing great.
