How We Can Move Away From the Climate Brink

I t will take momentous shifts to ensure a reasonably safe climate future. How can we find the wherewithal and endurance to transform our energy, food, and transportation systems; our buildings, infrastructure, and manufacturing; our economies, governments, and cultures, if we can’t envision the outcome of our efforts? Before we fully commit our brains and brawn, before we go all-in, it’s reasonable to want some indication of what success looks like—some sense of what all this change will mean for our lives.

I get it. For decades, what scientists, writers, filmmakers, and artists have projected for us is the apocalypse, in great detail. We can easily picture the climate-change-fueled fires, floods, droughts, and storms, and the immense suffering, all of which are now well underway. But when it comes to better outcomes, we’ve largely been left hanging. That is a problem.

Because what if we get it right? I ask this question because I, too, need to know what it all adds up to. Because my imagination often fails me and I find myself grasping for a futurism that doesn’t feel naive.

Humans have evolved to not leap into a void—that’s dangerous! So we need something firm to aim for. Something with love and joy in it. And we need the gumption that emerges from an effervescent sense of possibility.

If we get it right, the world is a lot more green, more full of life. Damaged ecosystems are on the mend. Cycles of water, carbon, and nitrogen are rebalanced. Beavers are admired for helping landscapes absorb water and diminish wildfires. Insects, a precious foundation of our food web, are rebuilding their numbers and doing their many jobs. Soils are accumulating instead of eroding; full of roots and bugs and microbes, they can resist droughts and deluges. We are fostering intact forests, plains, and watersheds—working at landscape scale, regardless of geopolitical borders. Half of nature, of each ecosystem, is protected from plunder in perpetuity.

The success of the Land Back movement means Indigenous peoples are once again stewarding their ancestral lands, often in collaboration with local and national governments. The spewing of pollution and poisons, the proliferation of extinctions have ended. Regenerative organic farms are thriving; subsidies for toxic megafarms are done. We have replaced tenuous monocultures with resilient polycultures. Composting and mulching and cover crops are the new/old convention. Lawns are a thing of the past and golf courses are rewilded, replaced with Climate Victory Gardens and diverse native flora. Pollinators buzz. Life is luscious.

Read more: Be Tenacious on Behalf of Life on Earth

If we get it right , the combustion phase of humanity is over. We no longer burn things to make energy (except some hydrogen); we have electrified. Gen Z brought down the fossil fuel industry, ruthlessly calling out oil and gas corporations, mocking the destructive absurdity of their ways, and refusing, en masse, to work for them. The air is cleaner. The water is cleaner. Asthma and cancer are more rare again. Communities of color are no longer overburdened with pollution.

There are no more oil spills. Turning forests into “biomass” pellets for energy is an absurd “remember when. . . .” Renewable energy projects can no longer be blocked by wealthy property owners. Wind farms and solar arrays and transmission infrastructure are aesthetically pleasing additions to our landscape. Even though energy is renewable, we conserve it—to minimize both the amount of metals mined and the amount of nature that is disrupted with panels and turbines. Batteries and solar panels are recycled and newly mined materials are justly sourced. We have figured out fusion.

If we get it right, we have re-localized and we eat well . We no longer eat Washington State apples in New York State and New York apples in Washington. Our food is fresh and flavorful, ample and accessible to all. We don’t fight the seasons, but rather enjoy what the time and place offer. Our regionalized supply chains are more resilient to global shocks. We look back in horror at the age of shipping bottles of water from Fiji and France to stores all over the world. (But fear not, we are hydrated!)

We’ve grown beyond “reduce, reuse, recycle” and now think first of refuse, repair, and repurpose. Every neighborhood has a repair shop. We value materials, from food scraps to metals to fabrics. Biodegradable is the norm, and composting is ubiquitous. Landfills aren’t needed. Trash is out and circularity is in. Homemaking (preparing food, mending things, caretaking, and so on) is esteemed. Many people have moved nearby to their loved ones, relocating to more climate-safe places, regathering diasporas. Living is intergenerational, people with disabilities are cared for, and elders are cherished.

If we get it right, our homes are comfortable. Green roofs support biodiversity and keep us cool in heat waves. Heat pumps and solar panels and induction stoves are the norm. We shake our heads remembering how we once spewed fossil gas into our kitchens, ruining indoor air quality to cook. Buildings are all well-insulated, and are not overheated in winter and overcooled in summer. Construction materials are more locally and regionally sourced. We have found replacements for high-energy concrete and steel. Instead of demolishing, we retrofit or deconstruct—materials are salvaged for reuse, like taking LEGOs apart for the next project. We’ve got good insulation dialed. Energy bills are much lower; energy conservation is much higher. The future is not drafty.

If we get it right, there is no traffic in cities, because there are so few cars in cities. Thanks to extensive, elegant, and free public transit systems, and with much of what we need within walking or biking distance, personal vehicles are rarely needed. Many parking lots have been removed, replaced by community gardens, gathering places, and bicycle parking. Glorious systems of bike lanes have many people pedaling. Electric hydrofoil ferries are common. Maybe trolleys are a thing again.

From semi-trucks to vintage sports cars, we figured out vehicle conversion, conserving their metal husks as we move beyond combustion engines. Wildlife corridors bridge roadways and railways. High-speed trains are the preferred mode for long journeys. Travelers arrive with a sense of place, having traversed ecosystems at eye level, at a pace that allows for digesting the geography. Air travel is both pollution-free and less common—our ample vacation days (and airships!) make it easy to abandon planes. Locomotion happens with fewer decibels. Stealthily silent electric motorcycles are the midlife-crisis transport of choice. There is a sailboat renaissance.

Read More: These Black Icons Have a Novel Idea to Save the Ocean

If we get it right, coastlines are greener too. Mangroves and wetlands and seagrasses and dune grasses have been replanted. So have oyster reefs—billions of oysters are thriving in harbors and bays, filtering seawater and lessening wave impacts. These salty ecosystems are soaking up carbon and protecting us from storms. Where this green infrastructure alone is not enough, we supplement with gray infrastructure (seawalls and such), but sparingly because we have helped coastal communities move in and up, out of harm’s way.

We show respect for the rising seas and have ceased trying to hold back the entire ocean, ceased the foolhardy rebuilding after each storm. Flood insurance premiums accurately reflect risks. No new buildings are constructed in flood zones. Coastlines are for working waterfronts and recreation. When coastal parks flood, there’s a delayed soccer game, not destroyed homes. Hurricanes are less deadly, even though our changed climate means they are more intense. And on a clear day, if you squint at the horizon, miles in the distance you just might glimpse offshore wind turbines. Woosh.

If we get it right , the tyranny of the minority is over; the climate-concerned majority rules. Our democracies are robust and truly representative. Every vote is equal and counted and easily cast. Politicians have been wrested from the stranglehold of the fossil fuel industry and big ag. They caught up with popular opinion that we must do more, and faster, on climate. Subsidies for fossil fuels are long gone. The filibuster has been abolished.

Climate-science deniers are unelectable, perceived as laughably unfit for office. Because some places are no longer habitable (too hot, too stormy, too wet, too dry), policies reflect the humanitarian necessity for people to migrate. Governments ensure that people have all the basics covered (food, housing, education, healthcare, childcare, and eldercare), so that we can roll with the climate punches.

In tandem with investing in community services, incarceration has plummeted, freeing time, labor, budgets, and human potential. Ditto for hyper-militarization, with all its high-cost energy-intensiveness. There are no more petrostates enabling petro-dictators—decentralizing energy production decentralized political power. The gulf in pay between executives and workers has narrowed—all jobs pay a thriving wage. As both climate and technological change remade our world, we instituted a universal basic income.

If we get it right, there are fewer desk jobs. We are out in the world, remaking society together and (re)figuring out how to live within nature instead of on top of it. Through climate corps programs, governments around the world employ hundreds of millions for efforts like managing fire risks, deploying clean energy, and restoring coastal wetlands. Access to healthcare is universal, not tied to a job, freeing people to relocate away from areas prone to extreme weather and toward necessary and meaningful work. Green jobs are the status quo. The trades—like carpentry, plumbing, electrical, welding—are revered. Our biceps are buff. Vocational training is easily accessible, enabling people to build skills for the shifting job market and economy. A single income can support a family, allowing time for the work of adapting to all the changes that are already here and those that are rushing toward us. Everyone has a role to play, contributing to a society powered by wind and sun and waves, and an ever-accelerating resurgence of nature. Electricians do very well on dating apps.

If we get it right, the pace of life is more humane. Time that had been spent dealing with health- and flood-insurance paperwork, advocating for renewable energy, being stuck in traffic, and otherwise butting up against outdated and broken systems, is now used to grow food, prepare for extreme weather events, and care for each other. All streets, not just those in wealthier areas, are lined with trees (including fruit and nut trees), providing shade and beauty and photosynthesis (and snacks). Rain gardens and bioswales line streets, ready to absorb and divert storm waters.

We linger outside, in parks and on sidewalks, with friends and neighbors. We have time to make meals at home or consume them at a cafe. “To-go” is uncommon, instead we meet eyes as we chew. We know plastic recycling is mostly bullshit and have abandoned disposables—instead we (gasp!) wash the dishes. No longer frenzied with meaningless to-dos, we find ease amidst the generational work of making our planet livable. As we spend more time outside, our appreciation for nature grows with immersion, inspiring ever more creative adaptations to our changed climate. Biophilia and biomimicry flourish in a virtuous cycle with the thriving of biodiversity. We are unrushed, chill even.

If we get it right, culture has caught up with our climate reality. Hollywood and celebrities are all-in—climate is the context, the cachet is in solutions, and implementation is sexy. The obsession with endless economic growth is considered wildly out of touch. Corporations are beholden to the limits of nature, not to maximizing quarterly profits for shareholders. Our healthy retirement accounts invest in the just transition, not fossil fuel extraction. The big money is in zeroing out and drawing down carbon pollution.

Mainstream media brims with actionable climate information. Social media is greener, too—an enticing scroll of ecological and electrification projects, luring more and more people into this important work. We share snazzy retrofitting hacks and extreme weather prep tips. We help our neighbors. Influencers get canceled for hawking shit we don’t need. Consumerism is so uncool. A victorious campaign for clothing durability requirements ended fast fashion. Fabrics are no longer made from fossil fuels. Artificial intelligence is reined in, and its computing power helps to optimize energy efficiency, maintain electricity grids, and generally advance climate solutions—and to free us from administrative tasks. Design is planet-centric, not human-centered.

If we get it right, even with all these changes, the world and our homes are still familiar. It’s the invisible systems that undergird our lives—our energy, food, and transit systems; our methods of engineering, manufacturing, and building; and the policies that organize it all—that have been overhauled. Re-greening the world and re-rooting in communities feels good. There is more collaboration, more knowing and being known, more sweetness. We lean into trial and error, into replication more than scaling. The world is a mashup of traditional and high-tech, old ways made new. The extractive, fossil-fuel economy is out; the renewable, regenerative economy is in.

Humanity has backed off, made more room for other species, learned to share this magnificent planet. Our surroundings are verdant. Spring is not silent; it’s cacophonous. We are putting the pieces back together, adapting to the climate-changed world with eyes and hearts open wide.

We embrace possibility, continually moving away from the brink and toward answers to the grand question: What if we get it right?

Excerpted from WHAT IF WE GET IT RIGHT? copyright © 2024 by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson. Used by permission of One World, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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