Climate Thoughts with Brian

This is an engaging, detailed exposé by Guy Shrubsole of the narrative of who owns the land in England, how this ‘myth’ has become enshrined, and how we can create a new framing to appoint new stewards to change this ‘lie of the land’.

Shrubsole makes the repeated point in this book that ‘Stewardship, though a noble ideal, is too often greenwash.’ He convincingly argues that accountability and responsibility lie at the heart of ownership. ‘We have to make the self-appointed custodians of the countryside answerable to the rest of us.’ This is a repeated mantra throughout, that for too long, estate managers and landowners have escaped scrutiny for actions on their land, which has negative impacts ‘downstream’- sadly, and all too often, this can be a literal downstream, where river pollution and land degradation can be found.

Shrubsole opens his text by framing his extended argument, ‘Owning land, particularly large swathes of it, ought to come with serious responsibilities to society and to the rest of the natural world.’ He argues that, on one hand, it is patronising to assume that the public are not capable of performing such a protective role. He continues that additionally, this ideology perpetuates and reinforces the protective interests of the landed elite- and their political interests. Why are the public at large not regarded as being capable stewards of the land?

On a minor level, homeowners, especially those with gardens, are viewed as being more than capable to be stewards of their gardens- but how and why this cannot be upscaled is puzzling. ‘We ignore the fact that private homes and gardens take up just 5 per cent of the country. The reality is that we all have a legitimate interest in how the other 95% of our land is used because we all depend upon it.’

Shrubsole identifies that the framing of ‘stewardship’ is a new concept, designed to exclude and designed to defend against accusations of land harm. ‘The language of stewardship was deliberately revived in the late twentieth century by landowners and farming unions to defend themselves against accusations of environmental destruction.’ This concept that only the rich can be effective stewards of the land is revealed to a perniciously invented narrative that has become entrenched in a class struggle.

The central argument of the book is introduced early on- ‘But the greatest lie of the land is the idea that you have to own land to care for it.’ Shrubsole identifies many action groups and individuals who push for protection of the land, through campaigning, to expose the truth behind the greenwashing promises and pledges and who build legal arguments to grant nature legal personhood.

It is the ego-centric argument that land is property to be used, but that it has legal rights itself- a legal movement that, thankfully, is beginning to spread.

A clear example of this is the current formation of the criteria to apply to designate an area of land as an ‘Asset of Community Value’. ‘The official criteria under which land can be listed as an Asset of Community Value must be broadened to include environmental and economic benefits alongside social ones.’ In an application, it is advised to show that the land is ‘used’ by members of the community in a quantifiable manner- that physical actions are conducted there. Simply enjoying the land as existing in its own right and for its own sake is far too abstract an idea at present for councils. ‘Community ownership offers a strikingly different way to own and manage land more democratically than merely trusting in the benevolence of the larger private landowners.’

Land as a trophy

Shrubsole then turns his attention onto those who regard land as an indication of wealth and status, who are more interested in this element than effective land management. From grouse moors to peat bogs, he outlines actions and examples where legal loopholes have allowed destructive actions to take place in these areas and suggests that perhaps this is not accidental. ‘The extremely cosy relationship between wealthy grouse moor owners and our political class has meant the industry has avoided any serious regulation for decades.’

An idea whose time has come

Shrubsole emphasises that proactive protection for nature isn’t just desirable,but essential. ‘Today we face an even more existential threat than invasion: the climate crisis and the unravelling of the very web of life that we all depend upon.’ A declaration of a ‘Nature Emergency’ to begin to halt the horrific decline of nature in the UK needs to be a priority for this new government. Government intervention is key argues Shrubsole, and he makes the valid point that land is not bought compulsorily for nature, but is regularly done for large infrastructure projects which often harm nature. ‘But we accept the principle of the public sector being able to buy land compulsorily when it builds infrastructure; why not for nature? If the government can buy land for roads, railways and energy, why not for vital carbon sinks and the ecosystems we all depend on?’

Replacing the ‘lie of the land’

Shrubsole argues powerfully that land should be a ‘common treasury for all’ and not just the purview of and for the powerful elite. He identifies that some landowners have failed to be good stewards of the land, but have escaped accountability and censure for this. Not all have a love for the land. ‘The reality is that private property ownership doesn’t inevitably breed respect for nature.’ He states that it is past time to ‘democratise the governance of land’ in order to save nature in Britain and that this could be done through new Government policies. From the evidence gathered so far and with the rising climate and nature crises, Shrubsole insists that, ‘The fate of our land is too important to be left only to those who own it.’ 

He finally urges that we need to take back the narrative that has served the interests of landowners and not the interests of the land.

‘Let’s replace the lie of the land with a profound truth that anyone can develop a deep love of nature, place, and land, regardless of whether you own it.’

How would you describe a tree? Would you talk about its trunk, its branches, its leaves, its roots, its abundant life? Would you describe it as an object or a subject?

 How many species of tree can you name in 30 seconds? 

Our knowledge, relationship and connection with trees, forests and woodlands, may be under threat, in a world which demands speed and consumption. And yet, to trees, our life spans of around 80 years, can be the blink of an eye to a tree which has stood proudly for centuries. 

In ‘Treewilding- Our Past, Present and Future Relationship with Forests’, Jake M Robinson takes us on a journey- not of discovery, but of memory. A journey designed to rebuild and regrow this truly ancient relationship between two organic beings- humans and trees.

A nature-depleted world

Robinson begins by highlighting the extent of the problem, by emphasising that, ‘‘At a global scale, we teeter on the precipice of unrivalled biodiversity loss and climate chaos, so restoring forests (and other) ecosystems is vital.’ He points to the example of the UK as a place where the connection between nature and urban spaces has been broken- where a cultural understanding has been lost. ‘The UK was recently named one of the most nature-depleted countries in the world.’

A re-shaping and a re-framing of our positioning with the natural world is essential- Robinson argues to reform our attitude to the natural world and to shift the ideology that nature is there simply to be used by humans as a resource. Or to quote the 1986 Star Trek 4 positioning of humanity’s positioning of itself as superior to all other life forms- ‘If we were to assume that these whales are ours to do with as we please, we would be as guilty as those who caused their extinction.’

Robinson continues this argument almost 40 years later when he says, ‘It’s vital that we brush away the egocentrism that positions humans at the top of a hierarchy of life and cultivate a deeper connection with, and truly respect the complexity of, other life forms.’

In small ways, in small places, there are shoots of this shift from ego-centrism to ecocentrism. In August, 2024, Paul Powlesland became the first person in the UK to swear a legal oath on a natural entity- this time, of the River Roding. He commented, It’s another way of reintroducing the idea of nature as sacred back into our legal system, finding playful ways to demonstrate to the world that nature is alive, that nature is sacred and we have duties towards it.’

Survivors of lost worlds

Robinson charts the history of trees and praises their ability of surviving-so far- despite all odds in the historic and geological records. They emerged approximately 400 million years ago- before the Triassic and Jurassic periods- and survived the mass extinction events in Earth’s history, including the famous dinosaur-killing event around 66 million years ago.

Around the world today, there are several claims of trees which have also survived the modern world- from the Methuselah tree of almost 5,000 years old, to giant sequoias dating back 3,000 years.

Robinson outlines the significant levels of deforestation that have taken place during the agricultural period. ‘50% of global deforestation occurred between 10,000 years ago and 1900, and the other 50% occurred in the last century.’ Additionally, this rate has sadly been matched over the last century itself- ‘Yet, in the last 100 years, the world has lost as much forest as it had in the previous 9,000 years.’ Whether this has been the end result of empire building, colonialism and the resource depletion which comes with this, or an attitudinal ideology which only sees nature as a resource to be exploited, remains debatable.

As Robinson summarises, ‘Our thirst for convenience at all costs means we often fail to see the woods (the ecological and social systems) for the wood (the timber).’

Our present relationship with trees

Robinson then highlights the social and economical importance of trees and nature- describing their sacred, ceremonial, and community roles that they have played to different cultures. However, he also cleverly positions these issues of the benefits to humans with developer tree- felling plans, to emphasise what is currently being lost. Forest bathing as a medicinal prescription is booming as a practice- with the mantra of ‘Let forests be thy medicine’, but here again, lies the issue that we are potentially exploiting nature simply for the benefit which it brings humans. For the moment though, if this is an avenue which preserves and maintains forests and trees, perhaps it should be celebrated.

Forest restoration and regeneration

Robinson then outlines successful restoration practices and methods around the world, arguing that, ‘We need to take an ecological approach to tree planting.’ He praises projects in Costa Rica and at the Knepp Rewilding Project in the UK. Robinson suggests that modern technology can help hugely with restoration ecology and that the use of ecoacoustics and drone mapping and monitoring can help humans learn more about the dynamic relationships within tree communities. 

The right tree, in the right place, at the right time, is a far more effective approach than huge monoculture plantations that run the risk of not achieving very much at all. He argues that we have a lot to learn from syntropic farming methods to see if they can be scaled up- these can require long term vision and management, which humans are notoriously bad at. Natural forest regeneration, such as the Miyawaki method from Japan could be transferred to other areas such as India and Europe, in order to complement and aid the regeneration that is necessary. 

There are dangers to be on the lookout for though- threats to local biodiversity, finance and the skills required to help maintain the restoration methods. Planting is not the ‘golden bullet’ so sought after, but growth and management are key. Stewardship is perhaps another way of phrasing this narrative. We are simply stewards for future generations. Will they thank us when forests regrow and are restored- or will they curse us when the last tree is cut down simply to satisfy our material wants?

Greenwashing alerts

Robinson warns that we should be on the alert from political greenwashing promises- in particular promises by organisations and individuals to plant thousands, or even millions of trees. He lists 10 key pitfalls of these greenwashing promises: from failure rates, the potential reduction of water availability, and the continued colonial concern that the Global South becomes responsible for capturing emissions from the Global North.

What we can learn from trees

Above and beyond what we can learn from trees about our past, in terms of information about fires and droughts, owing to tree rings- there is a lot to be learned about how we can recreate a more symbiotic relationship with nature. Turning urban areas into urban forests, exploring ‘living architecture’ and exploring how nature can help us turn the tide on catastrophic climate change. Robinson explains that, ‘A tree is a teacher’ and so, like any good student, we need to be open and receptive to the lessons that we can learn. 

We need to listen to the trees. We need to be reminded that they were here before us and will be here after us. 

Whether humans like it or not, we are a part of this world- not apart from this world. There are organic bonds linking all living things- both visible and invisible.

Our ideology and narratives towards trees and nature needs to shift from seeing them as objects, to understanding their complex systems and internal communities. 

We need more nature champions, unafraid to speak out that our current view of nature being a disposable and expendable resource, could see so much more being lost than we can currently imagine.

Hadrian’s Wall stretches for 84 miles across the North of England, from Bowness-on-Solway to Wallsend, Newcastle, signalling one of the last frontiers of the Roman Empire.

Nowadays, the Wall remains intact only in certain sections, with the best views to be found in the isolated middle sections far from the cities and towns.

Walkers can walk from east to west, or west to east, staying at different locations along the journey, according to their chosen style of trip, following in the footsteps of Roman soldiers. I chose west to east for transport practicalities, meaning that I finished in the transport hub of Newcastle, rather than an area with sparse public transport near the Solway Firth.

For some, walking a distance of 84 miles, might not seem overwhelming- viewed perhaps the same as running a marathon. For others, walking this long distance, alone and with no support, may appear too daunting. The first rule I discovered is that you walk Hadrian’s Wall in your own time, at your own pace, and avoid comparing your experience to that of others. Your journey is your journey.

I chose to walk the wall as a personal promise to someone who is no longer able to ‘walk the Wall’, but the reality of what this meant was beginning to set in quickly.

Preparation

To begin with, I sought the advice of military friends- people for whom long marches are common. Their view of preparing for the worst, while hoping for the best, played out in many pieces of advice. From downloading location apps such as ‘what3words’- vital for peace of mind- the best foods to snack on and the benefits of dry socks, this was an early indication that if treated lightly, this walk could be dangerous. Accidents can happen to the most well prepared person, but the questions posed to me of, ‘What do you do if you break your ankle, or have a bad fall? How do you get to safety?’ echoed in the logistical emergency planning stage.

The physical preparation was significantly hampered by one of the wettest winters recorded in the UK, meaning that long walks across fields and fells couldn’t be completed. I talked to runners and running groups, to try to map out distances on dry ground, aiming to ensure that at least distance could be practised for, if not terrain. The cumulative impact of walking 16- 20 miles every day, for several consecutive days was not something that could be known in advance.

Baggage transport was next on the list. I did not relish the idea of carrying a full bag for 84 miles, so I opted for a daily transfer of my bag from one accommodation spot to the next, while I carried a much lighter day bag. This made my journey slightly more comfortable and enjoyable. I chose to walk in late April, but the trail was still saturated throughout from the incessant rain, so the option to camp was quickly discarded.

The most important part of preparation was ensuring I had the right  boots. This was the part where I opted to pay more, mindful that getting this wrong could bring an early end to the walk.

Highs and Lows

One of the early positive discoveries was the realisation of the not-so-secret public footpaths which connected towns and villages. Footpaths which reminded me of bygone days where journeys were about the journey and not just about the rush to get to the destination.

The next ‘high’ was also in itself an absence of sorts. When our jobs demand that we make multiple decisions big and small and are constantly ‘engaged’, the mindfulness that came from having to make very few decisions was the recharge that I needed. It seems odd to say that walking 84 miles was a method of recharging, but when all you have to do during a day is ensure your footing is sound and that you get to the next stop, there does come an emptying of the mind which is welcome.

Another welcome discovery was that I was physically capable of walking several 16-miles-days with no real discomfort and the physical challenge was met head on.

Finally, when the half point was hit and the counter flipped to a countdown rather than a count up, that was a significant point, as focusing on how much I had done, rather than what was left for me to do, became a strong motivator. As a life lesson, this was an important one.

Finishing the entire walk and reaching the fort of Segedunum actually became an odd low point, rather than the expected high point. The sense that the journey was over and the task had been completed and that there was no more walking to do the next day was a surprisingly powerful emotion.

I was glad to leave the muddy, saturated fields and path behind me of course, no longer worrying whether I was going to go ankle deep or knee deep in mud. I was glad to leave behind the ‘Day of Rain’, which I affectionately named it, where it rained all day, unrelenting, giving the Hard Hills section of the Wall its name perhaps.

The lowest point of the walk was the emotional impact of seeing the empty space where the tree at Sycamore Gap used to stand, now with its stem fenced off, in the hope of regrowth. The senseless vandalism of nature left me cold on an already cold day.

Lessons learned

The lessons I learned walking Hadrian’s Wall then were not the expected facts of the Roman fort constructions, communication systems, or how the wall itself was constructed.
Instead, what I took from the trail was the kindness and support of strangers and the other walkers whom I met. The understanding that physical limits can often be mental ones and that we are all capable of more than we credit ourselves capable.

Have I caught the ‘walking bug’? Undoubtedly.

What I have learned though are simple truths-look after your feet and they’ll look after you and a hot cup of tea at the right time can be all the difference.

By George Monbiot and Peter Hutchinson

‘Sunlight’, as US Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis proclaimed over a century ago, ‘is the best disinfectant.’

In this new exposé, Monbiot and Hutchison expertly shine the sunlight onto a ‘normalized ideology’, which has been lurking in the shadows. They urge that the vital first task is to finally name ‘That Which Shall Not be Named’ and empower the public to recognise the tactics used by the various anonymous dark money groups. Their aim is ‘to reveal what has been hidden. It is to speak their names.’

The authors open the book by openly acknowledging that, ‘The dominant ideology of our times- that affects nearly every aspect of our lives- for most of us has no name.’ The awareness that the public cannot readily name ‘neoliberalism’, or if they could identify this nefarious constructed ideology, they could not easily define its purpose, or divine its meaning, is core to its power and influence.

They solve this problem early in the text by clarifying exactly what this ideology is. ‘What is neoliberalism? It’s an ideology whose central belief is that competition is the defining feature of humankind. It tells us that we are greedy and selfish, but that greed and selfishness light the path to social improvement, generating the wealth that will enrich us all. It casts us as consumers rather than citizens.’ Or, in more everyday speech, ‘capitalism on steroids.’ This then creates a secondary issue, of whether the public can confidently explain the origins of capitalism- but it does allow a sense of the power of neoliberalism to emerge. It would be foolish not to recognise the power of neoliberalism and its roots which have spread across the globe. ‘Crisis after crisis unfolds, yet we fail to understand their common roots.’

Boom, Bust, Quit

Monbiot and Hutchison do not shy away from facing the past which has been ‘whitewashed’.

‘Capitalism is an economic system founded on colonial looting.’ They highlight the repeated pattern of exploitative resource extraction conducted by many imperial powers and companies and highlight that we are quickly running out of the finite resources which feed this insatiable beast. They stress the dangers of this ideology on a planetary scale, as the complex earth systems cannot sustain the exerted pressures which we are experiencing and environmental tipping points are coming closer.

‘Boom, Bust, Quit’ is what capitalism does. The ecological crises it causes, the social crises it causes, the productivity crises it causes are not perverse outcomes of the system. They are the system.’

Monbiot and Hutchison evaluate the funding and propaganda tools of the capitalist interest groups and conclude that, ‘The fairy tale that capitalism tells about itself- that you become rich through hard work and enterprise- is the greatest propaganda coup in human history.’ The ideology of named major countries in the world has been predicated on this ‘Big Myth’-that capitalism must endure at all costs. Neoliberalism is a constructed ideology, despite its efforts to appear as ‘naturalized and normalized’ foundations of a healthy society.

‘Neoliberalism has often been imposed on people during great crises: at moments when they were too distracted to resist- or even notice- the new policies that governments were slipping under their doors.’

In these moments of crises, when instability and insecurity are prevalent, the only ones who profit are oligarchs and dark money groups- whether in the guise of Russian oligarchs, the Koch brothers, or even Presidential candidates, who suddenly find their war chests soar, if they adhere to the ‘party line.’ ‘The dark money is neoliberalism’s fuel.’

It is calculated that, ‘Since 1989, America’s super-rich have grown about $21 trillion richer. The poorest 50 per cent, by contrast, have become $900 billion poorer.’ Or in easier terms, ‘The rich pay less, while the poor pay more.’

Brexit, Covid, and the NHS

We are led through multiple examples of crises, which were weaponised for some- not ‘us’- for profit reasons. Systemic failures and attitudes to neoliberalism drove the 2008 financial crash- whether lessons have been learned is certainly questionable, as it feels more like neoliberalism has retreated underground slightly rather than being overt.

This description below becomes very relevant, when we realise the pressures on NHS dentistry and the NHS more generally, with private groups staring hungrily, waiting for the opportunity to strip the asset and to extract every single pound from it that they can, before moving on to the next prey- in a shocking example of life imitating the art of ‘The Lorax.’

These sentences from ‘The Invisible Doctrine’ reveal the strategy- one which is becoming more apparent in the UK in the wake of the water companies behaviour with regards to sewage pollution.

‘Profitable components of public services are wrung dry, while essential but unprofitable aspects are dumped. People with complex health conditions are either abandoned or returned to the state for treatment, sewage treatment plants are bypassed and left to deteriorate, bus services to smaller towns and communities are slashed.’

The writers remind us that, ‘As a general rule, privatization is legalized theft from the public realm. They emphasise that the growth of private power needs to be checked and regulated and that we are still not heeding the warning from almost a century ago.

‘In April 1938, President Franklin Roosevelt sent the US Congress this warning:’ the liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerate the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than their democratic state itself. That, in its essence, is fascism. It is a warning we would do well to remember.’

Climate systems cannot be compromised.

The need and urgency for necessary global climate action has sadly become the latest battleground for the ideological advance of neoliberalism. Unfortunately, this is not a battle that we can lose. We can decide to choose a constructed ideology, which urges us to consume, consume, consume, or we can decide to choose the hope that comes from healthy global ecological systems.

‘Our predicament- the greatest humanity has ever faced- is often characterized as a climate crisis…

What we are witnessing is the breakdown, at astonishing speed, of our life support systems- driven by capitalism, accelerated by neoliberalism.’

Monbiot and Hutchison urge that it is past time to tell a new story, one which grants hope, rather than stifles it in order to allow a neoliberal programme to survive. 

It appears that humans are the host for the pathogen of neoliberalism, but a new story could be the new vaccine. Social tipping points of community led programmes instead, could create new ‘commons’ for the 21st century, moving power away from dark money groups and moving it into the hands of an informed and engaged public.

‘Our task is to tell the story that will light the path to a better world.’

‘Nations are concerned about themselves, not about the planet, and this kind of problem will keep coming at us as we discover more and more such potential catastrophic consequences.’ 

Carl Sagan 1984

The words of Carl Sagan, quoted early in Gerald Kutney’s book, encapsulates the geopolitical issues that have been identified over the last seventy years, following the end of the Second World War. Global solutions are needed for global problems and challenges. A change in mindset to a more open cooperative one, will help mitigate the worst of the impacts of the emerging climate crisis.

Kutney deftly structures his text into a clear roadmap  which focuses and charts the climate action progress- often the lack of progress- in the United States of America over almost the last century. He interweaves the experiences and encounters he has had on social media over the last decade, with historical testimonies of Congress hearings and legal acts dating over the decades. He notes the changing of the Presidential guard and the hopes and dashed hopes following each appointment, as politics became the obstacle to progress.

‘Climate denier’

Kutney logically starts by defining the label of ‘climate denier’ and acknowledges that this is simply a new incarnation of an older problem. ‘Climate denialism is a modern problem, but it is rooted in science denialism which has been around for ages.’ 

He notes the attempts by climate deniers to position themselves as victims and ‘martyrs’ against a system. An attempt which is primarily founded on ideological terms, intended to contrast ‘belief’ and therefore religious belief, against scientific evidence and pitting these two ‘ideologies’ against each other. This positioning neglects to acknowledge that people can be persons of faith and also climate scientists at the same time. The most well known climate scientist in recent times to fall into this category must surely be Professor Katharine Hayhoe, who embraces both these foundations and uses them to complement each other. It is timely to introduce Prof Hayhoe, who has highlighted that the number of ‘Dismissives’ of human caused climate change has stayed resolutely around 10% of people polled in North America. This is perhaps an early criticism of Kutney’s text, that perhaps he allows climate deniers ‘more space at the table’ than they even warrant. 

Although he does note: ‘Climate denial is increasingly being recognized as a lost cause, and climate deniers are becoming a dying breed.’

As well as religious loyalties, Kutney also emphasises that political loyalties can hold huge sway with views on scientific discovery. ‘The other major motivation behind climate denial is political ideology, namely conservatism.’ He cautions that climate deniers try to create their own narrative as ‘victims’ by suggesting that they are merely asking ‘genuine questions’ to challenge science and not denying scientific evidence. He evidences his internet interactions of those who falsely claim to be ‘skeptics’, while actually aiming to delay climate action by using a respected methodology and value of the scientific world against them.‘The time-honoured tradition of skepticism in science should not be marred by confounding it with denialism.’

Kutney begins to head towards his core argument- that business profits and ‘business as usual’ is the primary aim of ‘Big Oil’ and the shifting sands of denial positioning have only one aim – to keep their profits as high as possible for as long as possible. ‘Whenever science threatens profits, the proliferation of denial begins.

Kutney warns that awareness of the efforts and tactics of the bad actors is necessary in online spheres and in government spheres, as the stakes could not be higher.

‘Of all the various manifestations of science denialism, climate denialism will have the most catastrophic outcome.’

Climate Science in Washington

Kutney then methodically charts the early attempts to bring climate communication and climate action into the public domain and government policy. He comments on the initial plans to explore the weather as a potential weapon of war, especially against the backdrop of the Cold War, as countries jostled for global leadership. He traces the changing administrations through the decades and the positioning on human caused climate change.

He quotes the Swedish scientist Bert Bolin, who warned in 1976 that,, ‘We must accept that there are limits to the exploitation of the Earth’s resources. One such limit is set by the principle that man’s natural environment must not be changed drastically and irreversibly.’

The formation of the IPCC as a vehicle to mitigate and adapt against the impacts of the changing climate and to better understand these ‘limits’,  is hailed as Kutney as ‘an historic moment’.

Climate Denialism in Washington

‘We can never say that science did not warn us.’

The wasted years of the Bush administrations are lamented by Kutney, as he lists the emergence of the new breed of “skeptics”, who constantly shifted the goalposts about the standard and level of evidence which they would accept and who deliberately used weather events as ‘evidence’ against global warming. Before the emergence of the internet as an everyday tool, used by millions and billions, these individuals were backed by right-wing think tanks supported by ‘dark money’. However, they did not yet have the army of bots that the internet could utilise, so aimed to discredit the scientists themselves on multiple occasions.

‘The greatest environmental challenge of the new century is global warming.’ With these words in his final State of the Union, President Clinton’s warning fell largely on deaf ears. When even the President could not drive through climate policy through Congress, climate deniers rejoiced. Al Gore’s 2006 documentary, ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ met fierce political resistance- another opportunity missed for emergency action. Congressional hearings began to feature more and more individuals who had no climate science training, but who could package up a narrative that could be amplified by senators and fossil fuel backed groups.

When President Obama and then later President Trump began using social media directly and unfiltered as a means of communicating with the public, the climate views of the administration were apparent. With President Trump removing America from the Paris Climate Agreement, yet more time was lost in the race to adapt and mitigate and move away from fossil fuels.

Only in recent years, with President Biden, have we more concretely returned to the climate messaging of President Clinton. ‘It’s the number one issue facing humanity. And it’s the number one issue for me…Climate change is the existential threat to humanity…’

Kutney then conducts a thorough exposé of what he terms the ‘Denial Cabal’ and ‘Denial Machine’, focusing on the actions of individuals and administrations, where he stresses that apathy was almost as dangerous as climate rejection. He details the actions of President Trump on social media and argues that ‘President Trump took climate denial to a radically dark and dangerous political level.’ Kutney warns against those who deliberately seek the limelight by promoting ‘junk science’ positions and climate denying positions, knowing that fossil fuel backers can help promote and spread their views. Kutney argues that ‘Until their [the energy-industrial complex] propaganda is muted, the necessary political negotiations will not happen on the climate crisis.’

The similarities between the ‘doubt is our product’ actions of the denial machine and the actions of ‘Big Tobacco’ are outlined by Kutney, but he points readers to ‘Merchants of Doubt’ for further information.

‘Propaganda is the voice of tyranny, not democracy.’

Although, on one level, the book feels that it is missing a conclusion, perhaps a formal conclusion is not needed. Kutney’s intention is perhaps to raise our attention to the environmental pledges and promises of presidential candidates in the upcoming election and to remind us of the need to exercise our democratic freedoms where they exist to vote for candidates who will not set us back further. 

Kutney returns to the simple, yet powerful words of Carl Sagan to draw out a solution and conclusion, which could bring change to American politics, but which will also offer global momentum. 

‘The solution to these problems requires a perspective that embraces the planet and the future, because we are all in this greenhouse together.’

Max Roser- ‘The world is much better; the world is still awful; the world can do much better.’

As to be expected, ‘Not the End of the World’ takes a systematic and methodical approach to the issues analysed in the text. Each chapter follows the same clear format of : ‘How have we got to now?’; ‘Where we are today?’ and finally ‘Things to stress less about’, which guide the reader through dense topics. Sustainability, air pollution, climate change, deforestation, food, biodiversity loss, ocean plastics and overfishing are the chapter headings and all of these have had countless books written about them in turn. ‘Not the End of the World’ is not there to diminish those other books, but to change the prism through which we understand the data. It uses precise, clinical language, almost too blunt at times, but it should not be criticised for this.  Ritchie challenges us that the purpose of data is to be a catalyst for action. ‘‘It’s to understand what we already know. Or could know if we studied the information we have properly.’

The extracts that were released before publication have been held up as a shield by the climate denying right and slammed by the left for not being ‘truthful enough’, while Ritchie constantly repeats in the book that the truth is bad enough and that ‘doomist’ headlines can create paralysis in climate action.

Part of the reason why this book has been so heavily criticised is perhaps the lack of a defined target audience and reader. This feels like a deliberate choice by Ritchie to simply present what the data and facts are. Facts don’t have an audience- they are simply there. As Ritchie notes, ‘If you believe people have the right to the truth, then you should be against those exaggerated doomsday stories.’

Reading new releases which simply confirm your thinking already doesn’t necessarily move you on as an individual in understanding. We all bring our ‘baggage’ and ideologies to bear on all topics, especially environmental ones. We are reminded in this text that multiple contradictory statements can be true simultaneously- even if we find this difficult to accept. We are also reminded of the words of Max Roser- ‘The world is much better; the world is still awful; the world can do much better.’

Humans can solve real global problems

This book is challenging and is rooted in ‘long-termism’, so I understand why it is an unsettling read. Ritchie takes the clear stance, ‘I’m no climate change denier, or minimiser. Bringing attention to the magnitude of potential impacts is essential if we want things to change. But that is a long way from telling kids they’re ruined.’ In every chapter, Ritchie echoes that the impacts on the climate are happening now, but also stresses that climate scientists themselves are driving, and have driven, the necessary change. She draws on examples like acid rain and the damage to the ozone layer to evidence that global change can happen quickly and that this is a positive aspect to action. Collective international action can bring stunning results. ‘And when countries want to tackle it, with the right political will and investment, they can do it incredibly quickly.’

The three aspects that Ritchie identifies as being the levers to pull on are: ‘a demanding citizenship, the money and political will.’

‘The time for debating whether climate change is or isn’t happening is over.’

Ritchie addresses the well- known climate denying trope of the decline of deaths from disasters. It should also be noted that Ritchie uses the complete data set and not an edited version. ‘The decline in deaths from disasters does not mean that disasters are getting weaker or less common. Deniers often misuse this data to downplay the existence or risks of climate change. But that’s not what the data shows us at all.’ She notes the climate related floods and droughts which killed millions at a time and displays awareness that the infrastructure, monitoring and response systems have become more resilient and that this is a good thing that fewer people die now than before.

Ritchie does not shy away from some of the more controversial topic areas- instead she uncovers and explores what the data demonstrates. In the current ‘blame game’ of who is responsible for emissions, Ritchie makes the point that both total cumulative emissions and per capita emissions are equal metrics to use and that nominating blame doesn’t really move us on globally. ‘But when we turn climate change into a blame game, there is no end to it. People are not really fighting about the numbers. They’re fighting about what numbers they should be using in the first place. If they don’t agree on that- which they often don’t- the fight goes nowhere useful.’

What are the tools we need to reduce emissions?

Often, climate books are criticised for not offering sharp clear solutions. Ritchie offers a detailed section on high- impact actions that can help save emissions and challenges the narratives we have- that recycling and upgrading light bulbs will be enough to reduce emissions. Ritchie cannot be criticised for repeatedly stressing the key action that is needed.‘We need to stop burning fossil fuels.’

‘It doesn’t have to be this way.’

Ritchie is clear that we already have the solutions and the tools to make meaningful change to ensure that we leave the environment in a much better state than we found it.’

‘Air pollution kills millions of people every year, but it doesn’t have to be this way. We know how to get levels of air pollution very low.’ Ritchie takes the view that although the environmental issues overlap and are linked, this could be a blessing in disguise, as ‘these interdependencies mean we can solve the lot in one go.’

Ritchie concludes by acknowledging that there will be those who disagree with her, but she comments that internal fighting only slows down climate action. ‘A good principle, then, is to be wary of attacking others that we’re broadly aligned with.’

She finishes by imagining what could be done if serious global action from all of us is focused on one goal and hopes that delay doesn’t become the enemy. We have the tools and we know how to use them. ‘We could be the first generation to build a sustainable planet.’  What a legacy that would be for future generations.

She warns though, that, ‘A sustainable future is not guaranteed- if we want it, we need to create it. Being the first generation is an opportunity, but it’s not inevitable.’