Climate Change is a major clear and present danger to humanity and will certainly bring dukkha upon humankind. But it’s not “of the utmost importance” as quoted above. What is of the utmost importance is found within an elephant’s footprint: the Buddha’s teachings of the Four Noble Truths and the way out, the Noble Eightfold Path. Suicide to bring attention to climate change or human trafficking or fentanyl or war or whatever ills of society doesn’t fit in the Buddha’s message. Even suicide to make a point that humankind isn’t following the teachings of the Buddha enough makes no sense.
The quote below is only tangentially related but reminds me of the Buddha’s admonishment to not be overly concerned with the affairs of the world and shows the futility of getting too enmeshed with symptoms of the disease of avijja:
“I hear news every day, and those ordinary rumors of war, plagues, fires, inundations, thefts, murders, massacres, meteors, comets, spectrums, prodigies, apparitions, of towns taken, cities besieged in France, Germany, Turkey, Persia, Poland, etc., daily musters and preparations, and such like, which these tempestuous times afford, battles fought, so many men slain, monomachies, shipwrecks, piracies, and sea-fights, peace, leagues, strategems, and fresh alarms. […] Thus I daily hear, and such like, both private and public news. Amidst the gallantry and misery of the world; jollity, pride, perplexities, and cares, simplicity and villany; subtlety, knavery, candour and integrity, mutually mixed and offering themselves, I rub on in a private life; as I have still lived, so I now continue, as I was content from the first, left to a solitary life, and mine own domestick discontents: saving that sometimes, not to tell a lie, as Diogenes went into the city, and Democritus to the haven, to see fashions, I did for my recreation now and then walk abroad, look into the world, and could not choose but make some little observation, not so wise an observer as a plain rehearser, not as they did to scoff or laugh at all, but with a mixed passion.”
Robert Burton, The Anatomy Of Melancholy, 1621