100 Books Like Climate

This book helped me release shame after a colleague of mine told me my work wasn’t “science.”

Here’s the truth: to create a healing platform, I needed to tap into ways of thinking that academia sees as “woo woo” and “savage.” I looked to the stars. I meditated. I did rituals and read myths.

Dr. Kimmerer, trained as a traditional botanist, realized that the Indigenous myths and stories she was told as a child contained scientific knowledge passed down for generations by her tribe.

She realized there were scientific truths her community knew for millennia that traditional scientists only discovered within the last 100 years. This is the power of Ancestral Intelligence, disregarded by the same science that ultimately created AI.

What stories, fables, and myths have taught you valuable lessons about the world?

I am simultaneously inspired and repulsed by this book because it presents a terrible and wonderful fictionalized case study in apocalyptic optimism. In the novel, Robinson weaves a story of hope embedded in despair.

Having studied efforts to solve the climate crisis for over 25 years while witnessing its growing effects, the novel is pitch-perfect on the tensions we must overcome to save ourselves. 

I didn’t just love Ecotopia—I wanted to move in, flaws and all.

There’s something very old-timey American about the irreverent, can-do people of Ecotopia—no thick institutional crust, just folks getting things done and cheerfully going about their daily lives. The decentralization, the dirt under the fingernails—all of it breathed like a real place.

They compose music, grow heirloom tomatoes, and debate philosophy in newspapers printed on yesterday’s recycled pulp–or some such. And they carry a fundamental sense of optimism for a bright new day. One can grow used to it. 

The Biosphere 2 project was the wackiest multimillion-dollar enterprise to emerge from the New Age movement. This book is a nonfiction account of how a New Mexico commune, with a charismatic leader, developed a plan to test the viability of off-planet living by creating a sealed-off biosphere, which would be a self-sustaining and organizing ecosystem in which humans could survive. The goal was to create not a sterile environment but one that supported life that would make off-planet living appealing. The four men and four women sequestered for two years in the 3.14-acre domed-off area outside Tucson grew into two factions that hated one another. All came close to starvation, CO2 poisoning, and madness. For readers that simply must have narrative in fiction form, T. Corraghesson Boyle’s The Terranauts is based on this same early 1990s episode. 

Architect-philosopher Paolo Soleri writes in an oracular style introducing his way-outsized book of designs for hyper-dense, concrete-megastructure cities in the deserts or oceans or even in space, none actually realized except for a very small prototype called “Arcosanti” in the high plateaus north of Phoenix, a campus that could have been built in a summer by a middle-sized reinforced-concrete contractor but in fact has been slowly erected by trainee-volunteers and a diehard community of followers over the last half-century. But there is something to it. “Tightly-woven minimalist packages will become mandatory.” I recommend the tabloid-sized original edition: it fits the buildings.

How many times have I reread it? Science/futurist fiction in the style of an Odyssey-scale and -style epic poem about (yes) the terraforming of Mars, a spectacular interplanetary saga framed against the background of the struggle against a misanthropic and authoritarian “Ecotheism” that has taken over Earth, and ending with a long and compelling hymn to the result, a new start on our transformed sister planet. Ecotopia, in short... on Mars!

I really liked There is no planet B as it comes in short sections and is structured around questions which Mike Berners-Lee answers with humour, authenticity, and authority.

His writing is so accessible, clear, and humble as well as playful and practical, which is quite an impressive achievement for a topic like this. He takes a joined-up approach on the various planetary challenges humanity faces, and I particularly loved that a chapter on values, truth, and trust is included, which are too often ignored in books involving science and the environment.

One of the questions in this chapter he answers is “how can I tell whether to trust anything in this book?” which I appreciated as often scholarly authors take themselves far too seriously.

And last, but not least, I loved how practical the book is, with many pointers for what we can do.

I liked that Jahren told the unvarnished truth of her experience in academia; like Zimmerman, she also shares how academia treats pregnant people. 

She talks about training the next generation of scientists, which is one of the main goals of the scientific enterprise.

Though I wasn’t impressed with the hazing ritual she and her lab manager had for new students in the lab, I did appreciate the excellent writing and well-paced narrative. Jahren is a stunning writer, and her book is neatly separated into sections about a tree, followed by a chapter about life mimicking that tree. 

I loved reading this book as it is so refreshingly different compared to other books in this space.

It focuses on what we can do rather than what we can’t and emphasises that we have more in common than what divides us when it comes to climate change. 

And the most important thing we can do about climate change is talk about it based on shared values, and it’s all about discovering what those are, whether it’s family, hobbies, outdoor activities, or faith. Talking about climate change is both a challenge and an encouragement for an introverted (yet social) sustainability academic like me.

I love how down-to-earth Katherine Hayhoe is. The book is peppered with lots of humour and personal anecdotes, yet clearly underpinned by scientific facts, and I finished the book feeling hopeful and inspired.

This is such a rich, lush book that will completely reframe the way you think about animals, yourself, and the world we live in.

Weber mixes science with expansive philosophy to argue (among many other things) that every being has an innate subjectivity, experiences pain and pleasure, that life recognizes life, and that the world is co-created by those that inhabit it.

I found myself coming back to this book again and again—the ideas have stayed with me despite having read it over 5 years ago. If you are interested in deeply interrogating the way Western science describes and positions humans within the world, then this is the book for you.