The End of Sustainability

Sometimes the best way to read a book is curled up next to a warm fire; and when the fire in question is forty-five thousand acres in size and just a few scary miles away from your home, well, that just lends a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole experience, dontcha think?

The premise is simple, well understood by anyone who's been paying attention: we can no longer strive for sustainability in any ecological sense. Our best—only—hope is to recognize that ASAP; change our way of thinking; change our legal frameworks for governance of forests, aquifers, fisheries; and work together in harmony despite enormous and delicate uncertainties. The book was written in 2017, and since then we've learned how well Americans unite to forge through in times of crisis. (Forgive me please. I'm wearing my National Sarcasm Society t-shirt today. It might be influencing me unduly.)

What I really liked: the use of Trickster—Coyote, Raven, Pan, Loki—as a model for what's coming. Trickster, a common figure in most (but, interestingly, not all) folklores, tends to be viewed as amoral: neither good nor evil, simply unknowable. I completely agree that if our societies can adopt that metaphor, it would help us tremendously in coping with the consequences of climate change. I also liked the case histories and legal backgrounds summarized in Chapter Six, ones that show surprising (to me) and hopeful (yes really) precedent and trends in court rulings.

This is not a book for most people: it's scholarly. Dry. Dense. I see it as a must for policymakers and climate activists; or at least something for their staff to read and summarize. I'm glad to have read it, and would be glad to lend or give you my copy if you want to.