The best books on the environmental crisis and how to solve it

This is the book I wish I could have given my younger self when I first noticed that the ecological world around me was deteriorating. Species were going extinct as the world heated up. In my education as a scientist, I learned that the physical causes of the environmental crisis are simple (burning fossil fuels, converting land to pasture, and so on), but no one seemed to have the power to do anything to fix it.

In this book, Mau brilliantly shows why we feel so unable to change the world. Everyone, including CEOs, are constrained by capitalism. People might personally care about the environment, but if the money doesn’t work out, they are forced to act otherwise. This isn’t an exclusively environmental book, but it offers a powerful perspective on the forces behind the crisis.

I have always loved books where the author tries to squeeze the entire world into a few short pages. Carolyn Merchant starts her extraordinary book with the observation that women and nature are often associated with one another—the nurturing mother—then launches into an argument about how the exploitation of the Earth and the domination of women have the same root causes: capitalism, but also patriarchy.

Along the way, I learned about witches, old ideas of magic, and how mining in Europe was once considered sacrilege, a violation of the Earth. After reading this book, I’ll never see science or history in quite the same way.

When I started to read the news as a kid, I understood right away that oil prices were important. Constant war in the Middle East was somehow linked to the gas my mom used to fill up her minivan. It wasn’t until I read this book in college that I truly knew why energy dominates politics.

Mitchell points out that with the rise of coal mining came the rise of democracy because workers suddenly had the power to shut down the entire national economy by striking at only a few mines. They demanded rights and fair treatment. The transition to oil changed everything because it was easy to transport and difficult for workers to shut down. Mitchell shows that oil isn’t just about convenience. It’s about power. 

As an environmental activist, I often run into the problem of popular politics. Consumption of certain goods, like oil or meat, drives the environmental crisis, but they also are popular—or, at least, people would feel it as a loss if they were limited. Worse, people’s livelihoods often depend on industries that are hurting the planet.

To understand possible ways forward, I turned to Thea Riofrancos. This book guided me through Ecuador's complicated environmental politics. A left-wing president won power, promising prosperity for all, funded by mining and exporting the country’s rich natural resources. Indigenous people and environmentalists proposed alternative politics, which were not funded by extraction but by an alternative green economy. The book is full of hard lessons about the challenges of building a winning environmental movement.

Despite the title, this book is not literally about how to blow up a pipeline. Instead, it asks why, if the fate of the world is at stake, so few climate activists have turned to sabotage. Perhaps it should have been called, “Why isn’t anyone blowing up a pipeline?”

In my activism, I have always organized and joined non-violent actions and protests, but Malm raises a powerful point: historical movements, like the fight for women’s suffrage or the end of apartheid in South Africa, have used violence and sabotage. Only after the fact are these movements whitewashed into something peaceful and cuddly. Reading Malm’s short but powerful book left me with more questions than I started with, but the best books often don’t provide the right answers; rather, they ask new questions.