Title: The Mother of All Creditors: How We Maxed Out Earth's Credit Card. - Author: Jude S. Ngu'Ewodo

 Title: The Mother of All Creditors: How We Maxed Out Earth's Credit Card


There’s a special kind of stupid reserved for people who believe you can max out a credit card, never pay it back, and somehow still retire comfortably. Turns out, that's been humanity's exact plan — only the credit card belongs to Planet Earth, and the debt is measured not in dollars, but in carbon.

For the last 50 years, we’ve been swiping like drunken teenagers on a mall bender. China, the U.S., the European Union — the whole gang. Gigaton after gigaton of CO₂, charged without a second thought, the atmosphere warming like a microwave burrito.

And now, Mother Earth has sent us the bill.

When you total it all up — using a generous $20 per ton (because hey, who doesn’t love a discount when facing planetary extinction?) — the biggest emitters owe trillions. China alone racks up a neat $7.12 trillion. The U.S.? A casual $6.52 trillion. Russia, Japan, India — all regulars at this environmental buffet — owe plenty too.

No problem, you might think. We’ll just tighten the belt, pay it down. Right?
Wrong.

At a 4% interest rate — Mother Nature’s way of saying "I'm not mad, just disappointed" — and if countries commit to paying back 2% of the principal each year, guess what happens? They can’t ever pay it off.
Not in 100 years.
Not in 1,000.
Never.
Because the debt grows faster than the payments. It’s like trying to empty a bathtub with a teaspoon while the faucet is still running.

At 5% repayment rates, there's a glimmer of hope: about 42 years to clear the balance. At 6%, we can even dream about doing it in a brisk 29 years — assuming, of course, we don’t cook ourselves first.

Meanwhile, the politicians and CEOs who swore they were “on it” are still busy hosting climate summits powered by private jets and lobster buffets, where everyone agrees solemnly that "something must be done," preferably by someone else.
As I see it, these would be the guys who bet the farm, lost it all, and somehow still strutted around like geniuses. The only difference is, this farm is the only one we’ve got.

But hey — there’s a silver lining.
When future civilizations dig through the rubble and find our legacy — the smoking ruins, the extinct species, the oceans turned into tepid soup — they’ll at least marvel at how confident we were while driving straight into a wall.

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