I have been passionate about the underlying drivers of environmentally destructive human behavior since I was invited to participate in a study of the impacts of oil development on coastal California when I was in graduate school. At a basic level, I have always been interested in economic development, organizational behavior, and public policy. This project gave me the opportunity to explore the intersection of those interests and expand them into the impacts of humans generally on natural and human-made environments. Southern California oil development and its impacts were not my dissertation topic, but it is one that literally hits close to home, and I have been pursuing it for almost three decades.
I love this book because, on almost every page, I learned something new about the Southern California beaches I enjoy so much—everything from why the beaches physically exist to why the public has access to them. This book digs deep to explore how minority and marginalized populations struggled for beach access during the twentieth century. In doing so, it tells us a lot about how beach culture as we know it emerged in Southern California.
I also appreciate its ending on a cautionary note, explaining how sea levels rising because of unrelenting fossil-fuel combustion threaten to literally wipe out the beaches that millions of us enjoy each year.
The first history of the formidable campaign that transformed Los Angeles into one of the world's greatest coastal metropolises, revealing how the city's man-made shores became the site for the reinvention of seaside leisure and the triumph of modern bodies.
The Los Angeles shoreline is one of the most iconic natural landscapes in the United States, if not the world. The vast shores of Santa Monica, Venice, and Malibu are familiar sights to film and television audiences, conveying images of pristine sand, carefree fun, and glamorous physiques. Yet, in the early twentieth century Angelenos routinely lamented the city's crowded, polluted,…
I love this book because it ties our insatiable demand for stuff to local, regional, and, indeed, global pollution and environmental destruction that threatens human and animal life.
Each chapter presents an eye-opening case study, my favorite of which explains all the steps that occur to bring bananas from far-off places and into grocery stores through Southern California’s largest ports. In fact, while Oil Beach spells out the impacts of oil refining, shipping, and trucking on humans, I love it, especially because it focuses on birds, whales, and other non-humans. The sad irony of oil-coated birds being treated at a clinic funded by oil companies will not be lost on the reader.
I also love books that are compelling reads. I read this book from start to finish without putting it down.
Can the stories of bananas, whales, sea birds, and otters teach us to reconsider the seaport as a place of ecological violence, tied to oil, capital, and trade?
San Pedro Bay, which contains the contiguous Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach, is a significant site for petroleum shipping and refining as well as one of the largest container shipping ports in the world-some forty percent of containerized imports to the United States pass through this so-called America's Port. It is also ecologically rich. Built atop a land- and waterscape of vital importance to wildlife, the heavily industrialized Los Angeles…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
I love this book because it hammers home the consequences of relentless energy development. One quote in particular says it all as far as drilling for oil is concerned: “One place cannot be drained for the sake of another without damage to a larger interconnected whole.” Santa Barbarans learned this in 1969. Extraction Ecologies warns of the consequences of climate change for all of us and the species with whom we share an increasingly fragile existence.
I also love this book because Miller uses books I had not read since high school, such as King Solomon’s Mines, to analyze the changes to landscapes and economic and social structures catalyzed by nineteenth-century industrialization and imperialism. Since reading the book, I have been rereading these books in a whole new light.
How literature of the British imperial world contended with the social and environmental consequences of industrial mining
The 1830s to the 1930s saw the rise of large-scale industrial mining in the British imperial world. Elizabeth Carolyn Miller examines how literature of this era reckoned with a new vision of civilization where humans are dependent on finite, nonrenewable stores of earthly resources, and traces how the threatening horizon of resource exhaustion worked its way into narrative form.
Britain was the first nation to transition to industry based on fossil fuels, which put its novelists and other writers in the remarkable position…
This is an amazing book on many levels and makes you look at every Van Gogh painting you’ve ever seen in the context of industrialization and the damage it was causing to the landscapes we associate with nature and beauty in the late nineteenth century.
The beautifully reproduced artworks are replete with smokestacks and locomotive engines spewing smoke into the air from coal combustion. Van Gogh also gives us polluted canals and rivers. Lobel shows us what we miss when looking at Van Gogh as a depiction of nature. I am now itching to get back to the Van Gogh Museum at all those irises in a whole new light. Like Extraction Ecologies, this book shows us our future from a distant past.
A groundbreaking reassessment that foregrounds Van Gogh's profound engagement with the industrial age while making his work newly relevant for our world today
"Van Gogh has never seemed more relevant. This stands as my favorite book of the year in any genre."-John Vincler, Cultured
Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890) is most often portrayed as the consummate painter of nature whose work gained its strength from his direct encounters with the unspoiled landscape. Michael Lobel upends this commonplace view by showing how Van Gogh's pictures are inseparable from the modern industrial era in which the artist lived-from its factories and polluted skies…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
I love this book because it explains in a compelling and highly readable way why we humans have charted a path utterly dependent on fossil fuels that marks the Anthropocene and threatens our way of life, if not our very existence. And ultimately, why California will continue to burn. Like Elizabeth Carolyn Miller and Michael Lobel, Stoll shows us our future by digging into our nineteenth-century past.
It is our relentless quest to accumulate and consume that will spell our doom. This need translates into a global and collective pursuit of economic growth. To be sure, oil companies have sowed doubt about the consequences of fossil fuel combustion. But we love our stuff. Even now we are looking for ways to keep on having more of it. And so we are all complicit.
Economic growth is more than an observable fact - it's a belief in the limitless abundance of the natural world. But when did people begin to believe that societies should - even that they must - expand in wealth into the indefinite future? Did they think about the limits of the natural environment? In this vivid book, the historian Steven Stoll considers the way people across the Atlantic world read wealth into nature during the 1830s and 1840s. Opening among the supersized products and high-stacked shelves of Costco, "The Great Delusion" weaves past and present together through the life of…
My book follows the money from one of the largest oil fields in America into commercial real estate, culminating in the construction of the Lloyd Center, one of America’s largest malls, on Portland, Oregon’s East Side, in 1960.
Ralph Lloyd’s family owned extensive ranch lands in Ventura, California. After decades of unprofitable cattle raising, the family sold the ranch but retained the mineral rights. Together with Joseph Dabney, for whom Dabney Hall at Cal Tech is named, Lloyd orchestrated the development of the prolific Ventura oil field, which to date has produced more than one billion barrels of petroleum. Lloyd used the profits from oil drilling to acquire and develop what is now known as the Lloyd District.