“Are we clever enough to come up with some viable plans?”
Margaret Atwood posits this important and delectably invigorating question.[1]
Are we clever enough? I love this question. Certainly, we are very clever. It is what we do with that cleverness next that will or won’t change the world.
Nearing the end of my writing process for this thingamajig, a long-awaited and magical day approached: April 8, 2024. It was the day a solar eclipse would span across North America and reach totality over my hometown in the Ozarks. I didn’t know quite what to expect. I had experienced a couple partial solar eclipses, but, like my boyfriend’s dad joked very accurately, “The difference between 99% and 100% totality is day and night.”[2] My boyfriend’s grandmother works for the tourism department in our town, so planning the events leading up to the eclipse consumed her work life for more than a year. This eclipse was going to be a big deal.
And it was. It was utterly astonishing. The moments leading up to totality had us so eager. The way the sky turned to a 360-degree sunset and a coldness came over us in the dark was electrifying. Birds, bugs, and cows made confused noises as I stood with my family in a field staring up at the sky. Eternity and no time at all were held in those three minutes where the moon stood directly between us and the sun.
Looking at the sun is generally considered ill advice. Yet with the help of solar glasses, we can. When de La Rochefoucauld says, “Death, like the sun, cannot be contemplated directly,” he almost implies that there be a lens to contemplate it indirectly.[3] During a solar eclipse, we raise our heads defiantly toward our local star and soak in its rare and beautiful dance with the moon. Through a specialized lens, we can see truth more clearly. Like death, like the sun, climate change often cannot be looked at directly. It is too large to comprehend and downright frightening.
Atwood asks if we are clever enough to come up with solutions. The existence and growth of climate fiction proves our cleverness. The climate crisis before us burns if we look at it directly for too long. Instead, we can use the lens of climate fiction, like we did solar glasses during the eclipse, and it can become a bit more digestible. The facts don’t change. The sun can still cause eye damage, and reading a neat little storybook won’t alter the fact that oceans are rising and we’re moving ever closer to the temperature threshold of no return. However, when we read about characters and worlds that face the challenge, suddenly it becomes something tangible and manageable, something we can handle. Or at least we can see how the characters might handle it and envision how we might. Nothing about the climate crisis is digestible. The fact that humankind mindlessly destroys Earth’s resources and atmosphere is soul-shattering. But I can digest a book. I can read a piece of fiction and be moved by it. Climate fiction brings the horrors of the real world together with the comforts of fingers flipping through pages, and in this way, it creates an avenue to approach the climate crisis.
We now understand the genre of climate fiction and have seen the opportunities it presents. Now, we must take it a step further.
The short answer to “What now?” is this:
1. Read.
2. Feel.
3. Think.
4. Share.
5. Act.
6. Repeat.
There is no easy way about it. You must really, truly, deeply read, feel, and think. Cli-fi can be enjoyable to read, or it can be devastating, but it is not for surface-level skimming. I have written about cli-fi being magical and broad. To access these features, one cannot passively read, feel, or think. Some fiction involves dragons or far-off universes, and that’s awesome. But it’s far away. Climate fiction involves us, our world, our future. Hold this in mind.
Read carefully and broadly. Seek out authors and approaches that you would not ordinarily. Look to queer and feminist perspectives and narratives that acknowledge the particular challenges faced by communities of color. Allow many books to pass through your hands and try to find some message in each of them. The library of cli-fi novels is ever-expanding, and approaching any futuristic story with an eye for cli-fi is eye-opening. You can use the Climate Literature Bookshelf as a jumping-off point if you like.
Let yourself feel deeply. The present climate crisis can be debilitating and has made me cry on several occasions. When stepping into a cli-fi book — or any form of cli-fi media — it can be like looking at our world through a windowpane. It won’t be exactly the same world, but we get to meet the characters, explore their world, feel what there is to feel. Feeling it all is impactful. Allow yourself to be vulnerable and take on whatever emotions arise from your reading experience. Allow yourself to be swayed, even if just for a moment between the two covers. Cli-fi books are written from a place of empathy. Meet them there.
Your heart may do a lot of heavy lifting, and I encourage you to corral your brain along with it. Think critically. Before, during, and after flipping through the pages. Contemplate the implications of the worlds laid out before you. Do you find them realistic or no? Do certain aspects remind you of reality? Is there a principle explored in the book that you can bring outside with success? Sit with it all. Cli-fi is entertaining, but it also contains a multitude of lessons. Try parsing them out.
Once you do, don’t keep it to yourself. Shout it from the rooftops if you feel so inclined. Sharing your experiences with others not only solidifies your own views on the subjects at hand, but it also gives you the opportunity to allow those around you to experience it all, too. Have those conversations! With friends, family, loved ones, complete strangers who are willing. Teach others about what you have learned and share your recommendations.
Humans were not built to carry heavy burdens alone. The climate crisis is the heaviest of burdens. While climate fiction might help us lighten the load on an individual level, it also invites collaboration and conversation.
Recently, I was talking to my dad about The Overstory by Richard Powers, probably now one of the most impactful books I have read in my life. I explained that it was another cli-fi novel I was reading to bolster my thesis project. He said, “Cli-what?” Mind you, I had been working on this project for well over a year now, and I have loved the word ‘cli-fi’ since I learned it. This man is also an English teacher, and he doesn’t shy from activism either. My mouth dropped. “Cli-fi!” I said in shock. He claimed to not know what that was. I felt like I had not done my duty. I think he would truly benefit from reading The Overstory and really enjoy it. But he would not know about it if I did not share. Clearly, I need to take my own advice and share more, too.
Schneider-Mayerson’s survey of readers found that almost half (48.4%) of the respondents discussed the cli-fi book they read with friends or family. He writes,
This is an overlooked function of works of climate fiction—as well as other forms of environmental literature, art, and popular culture—that can serve as cultural objects that provoke dialogue. This is particularly valuable given the ‘spiral of silence’ about climate change, even among the concerned—a 2016 study found that 57 percent of Americans who are ‘very’ or ‘moderately’ interested in global warming ‘rarely’ or ‘never’ discuss it with friends or family. (493)
Several of the respondents provided accounts of dialogues inspired by what they read in cli-fi novels. Schneider-Mayerson’s research goes to show that fiction can build bridges and connect people. Finally, he also called on Manjana Milkoreit who suggests that cli-fi can serve as an individual journey and/or “a shared cognitive-emotional experience that connects readers regardless of various differences,” causing cli-fi to be “an entry point for conversations about the future people want to pursue” (493).
A few months ago, I was on the phone with my boyfriend and one of my best friends. We were calling for our weekly roleplaying game session, but that activity often devolves into something else, and we end up talking about how to save world and such like that. This was one of those times. I was pacing the floor and involuntarily flailing my arms about. This wasn’t a normal occurrence of complaining about capitalism and resolving to all just go live in a castle together; we had struck a nerve. That day, something got me started on the topic of climate change. I had been working on this project, and I had learned too many disturbing facts to hold it all in anymore. I unleashed a torrent of information, and my dear friends struggled to keep up with sympathetic uh-huh’s and the occasional remark about how awful it was. I know! I probably shouted more than once. I couldn’t hold it all in, and pretty soon, tears were even leaking from my eyes against my will. Probably my methodology could have been better in sharing information with my friends. And probably we could have done better than echoing back “uh-huh’s” and “that’s awful’s” to each other. But, we still engaged in a conversation. We did not change the world that day, but we did something that can start to. That’s sharing what we know, and sharing how we feel about it. Sharing is a crucial part to lead up to the next step…
There are numerous ways to act. At times, like the one I just described, it can feel hopelessly like no one is doing anything as our planet dies. But, the thing is, our planet lives on, and people are doing things. And we can, too.
First and foremost, activists need to take care of themselves, too. The climate crisis is demanding, but our needs are important, too. Ecoanxiety, the sensation of feeling anxious or extremely worried about climate change and other current and future harms to the environment, is very common among climate activists. Myself among them, as you may have guessed based on that scrumptious phone call with my friends. Ecoanxiety is a serious issue, and building resilience is key.
There are support groups and other resources for people experiencing precisely the same thing. One example that I have utilized is aptly named the Resilient Activist.[4] Through meetings, forums, events, and articles, the organization aims to uplift and nurture resilience through community and passion for a sustainable future. Britt Way’s Generation Dread and the associated Gen Dread newsletter are another resource I use.[5] I have also been recommended the Sunrise Movement as another empowered young movement to follow. There are many other resources available, and they are worth seeking out. A climate-resilient world is not attainable without resilient activists.
Burnout is another common issue that climate activists face. The work never seems done with something so big, and it can get exhausting. Even if activism is your main focus and drive in life, it is important to make time for other things, too. This includes hobbies, socialization, meditation, and other forms of self-care.
Remember that we are facing a form of slow-motion trauma with the climate crisis. Finding ways to heal from and sit with that are crucial before our activism.
Activism takes countless different forms. After setting down the cli-fi book, maybe there’s some action in it that you could replicate. The Overstory inspires me to let my own yard grow up and to care for trees.[6] War Girls empowers me to test the limits of my technology to fight global warming. Silent Spring let me spread the word about harmful pesticides, and I have signed multiple petitions to my Congresspeople since learning about the danger arctic glaciers are in.[7] Climate fiction is so effective because it draws attention to real issues. Global warming, greenhouse gas emissions, pollution, deforestation, and more are villains we see, and they persist in real life. Climate fiction may be fictional, but the climate crisis is not.
Alexis Pauline Gumbs wisely writes in Undrowned, “Sometimes you do have to make your own whirlpool, redirect the waters, initiate a spiral of momentum that can displace whole governments. And I respect that” (80). What can a world reimagined via fiction look like? A world reimagined through nature?
See a problem, imagine solutions, look if others are trying to do the same, and do what you can to solve it. There are petitions to sign, bills to protest, places to volunteer at, donations to be made, and so much more.
Another idea for action inspired by climate fiction is to write your own. It is perhaps easier said than done, but the opportunity is always open to you to contribute to the growing genre of climate fiction. Writing and sharing your own cli-fi is a form of activism that allows you to produce something tangible and imaginative that can inspire others as you have been. It takes a creative hand, yes, but adding to the library is a powerful way to act.
So, what do we do with climate fiction? We read. Feel. Think. Share. Act. And repeat. And repeat again. And repeat for a long time because climate fiction is an enduring, distinct, and powerful genre that can have a strong impact on climate action.
I cannot argue that climate fiction alone is going to solve climate crisis. It is just one tool in our toolbelt. The work that needs to be done can start in our libraries, but it cannot end there. This thingamajig is a guide, but it is not a singular solution and should not be considered a monolith. My objective is to show readers like you one way we can start.
Fiction has always been a formidable tool to spark change. With the climate crisis before us, we ought to use cli-fi to its utmost. We know that the pen is mightier than the sword. The pen can be mightier than the climate crisis, too.
[1] Atwood, Margaret. "It's Not Climate Change: It's Everything Change." Matter, 27 July 2015. Web.
[2] I laughed really hard at this joke. If he’s reading this now, please know I still chuckle over it.
[3] This refers back to the beginning of the Climate Fiction section.
[4] Check it out here: https://www.theresilientactivist.org/
[5] Join here: https://gendread.substack.com/
[6] Within this novel, one “solution” presented is suicide versus unsuicide, depending on one’s reading of the book. Humans have caused the Anthropocene, and we have put our world in danger. This does not mean we are worthy of destroying ourselves, too. Instead, we ought to chase unsuicide every day and find new ways to heal the Earth.
[7] Admittedly, these two items are not fictional, but I still learned it in a book!