A Climate Leviathan

Recently, I was able to read Joel Wainwright and Geoff Mann's book Climate Leviathan, an intriguing look at how global politics must (and will) change as a response to looming climate change. The two analyze the problem from a leftist perspective, using previous philosophical discourse, political commentary, and the truly global nature of the problem to arrive at a simple conclusion; some form of supranational entity may be the only way to address the creeping climate emergency.

They lay out their reasoning quite well, pointing out how, in the words of Ursula K. Le Guin (quoting others) "it is easier to imagine an end to the world than an end to capitalism" and this is, especially in the political and economic sphere, rather true. From the failures of the world to band together in any meaningful way, to the flub that was the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement, to increasing use of fossil fuels and no existent plan to meaningfully reduce their use. This is contrasted to the poisoned pill that the Obama administration took up in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis where banks were bailed out and, rather than hold those responsible to account, next to no one was prosecuted or censured for the outrageous acts that lead to the greatest recession in nearly a century.

With these somewhat depressing facts in mind, the authors both critique capitalism and the current liberal/neoliberal establishment that, as yet, has proven almost completely incapable of meaningfully addressing climate change. With no national solution (no single country can address or alter the global climate trajectory) to the problem, the authors posit a Hobbesian Leviathan which takes on supranational importance to govern the global response to the climate emergency. It would be, largely, the existing capitalist/liberal system we know, with tweaks to allow for supranational action. This is contrasted between the 'Climate Behemoth' which is a reactionary rejection of Leviathan where reactionary elements fight and defeat it, making a muddled, uneasy, and disunified fight at regional scale or simply national against climate change.

In contrast to those, we see Climate Mao, an authoritarian supranational entity which would be swept up by not only a populist clamoring for action to mitigate and adapt to the climate emergency, but also punish those responsible. On a global scale this would be rank authoritarianism of the worst kind, while also a means of cathartic solution to popular unrest as those deemed responsible (even their descendants) meet an unkind fate.

The authors stress though that none of these would be in any sense democratic. Mao is the most notably authoritarian, but Leviathan, despite coming with the trappings of liberal democracy, would still command the power and respect to crush dissent largely beneath its heel, and have the justification of saving the world in order to quash any other objections to its programs.

Only one imagined system, dubbed Climate X, would see this not come to pass. A decentralized and supranational, but not quite coordinated, movement of resistance to control, green energy initiatives, and effective decolonization of the modern neoliberal/capitalist systems and other statist means of control. It is moderately utopian in its vision, but the authors stress, not impossible or unimaginable. They lay out no specific goals, and only some examples, but offer it as a tantalizing image of a world where many old inequalities are torn down, but not one which is perfect.

Interestingly, this is not the first I have encountered the idea that planetary governance may be the only way to mitigate the worst fallout from climate change. In the world of The Expanse for instance, after centuries of climate disaster, the nations of the world prove unable to fight the devastation in isolation and so abdicate their political sovereignty in exchange for help to the UN which works to right the wrongs of a ravaged planet. In the Star Carrier series, we see something similar with the Terran Confederation and other supranational entities having banded together to help mitigate the damage. And in Kim Stanley Robinson's 2312 we see a world just hinting at better multinational collaboration for future cooperation.

While science fiction often is often only an examination of the present through a futuristic lens, it does say something that you can find many works envisioning the horrors of climate change only being capable of being resisted by humanity (more or less) united. As the authors of this work posit, fighting climate change in isolation is most likely going to be impossible, leading to supranational organizations and demands to fight against it, or even correct further damage. While this is, for now, only the speculation of some political wonks and science fiction writers, science fiction has occasionally been predictive rather than merely speculative.

Climate change and the various crisis it will entail is a threat to all of humanity, and despite this many people pretend that they can hide from the effects, whether with walls or money. A change in the planet though, is a change for everyone, and as changing weather patters, wildfires, and extreme weather events have shown, even the wealthy and powerful in the West are not immune. Whether we willingly, or unwillingly band together to fight this crisis remains to be seen, but the speculation on the nature (or necessity) of a potential Climate Leviathan is there, and does deserve some pondering on.

What I Read in 2020

The year 2020 was a long, long year for me. Quite honestly it almost feels like the period between January and March was one year, between March and June was another and then June to September, and finally October to January. So, I feel like I've been through four years when its been just one. Thankfully though, I read a lot in the four years of 2020!

I managed to read 72 books and 34,204 pages between them. I'm not sure if that's a record for me or not, but it certainly outpaced what I read last year. I had actually planned 2020 as a fresh start in a new decade, especially for reading. I had started the year with the goal of doing a massive re-read of my favorite book series for the year. I had dedicated myself to re-reading a lot of my old favorites to see if they stood up, and then to maybe, maybe downsizing my collection. I mostly expanded it though. In the course of my re-read I went back to a few of my old favorites, The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, Leviathan Wakes, Jennifer Government, and then branching into some of my favorite fantasy series. A re-read of Joe Abercrombie's amazing First Law series, then re-reading all of the Stormlight Archive so far in anticipation of the release of Rhythm of War this year. Finally I re-read, perhaps the perfect trilogy in the first three books of A Song of Ice and Fire. Though I had to put off my combined reading of A Feast for Crows and A Dance With Dragons until 2021.

On the whole, the re-read was highly successful. I didn't get to all of what I wanted, but I managed to read a lot of new books too.

Normally my year has pretty bog-standard reading. Fantasy, science fiction, and the occasional mystery, historical fiction or alternate history. This year however, I was committed to reading more on social issues, some on political issues, and generally more books by authors I had not yet read, but especially by women and people of color. 

A small cross section of what I read!

One of the first books I branched out on and took a chance with was The Secret History by Donna Tart. It's a novel set in the 1980s in Vermont at Hampden College. Young Richard Papen leaves his home in California to study Ancient Greek, and while there he meets an eccentric group of wealthy students partake in an almost cultish devotion to the art. From there, dark things transpire and poor Richard is thrown into a world well beyond his understanding. It's honestly one of the most fascinating and frustratingly good books I've read in years. Well recommended!

Something more in my usual wheelhouse that I read for the first time was 2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson. Originally written in 2012, it was the authors attempt to reach 300 years in the future and grapple with what humanity might look like. It tells a compelling story of love, loss, and a humanity startlingly distinct, yet also depressingly still similar to our own 21st century selves. It's an old planetary romance novel in the style of recent reads. A solid piece of science fiction literature!

A non-fiction book I distinctly enjoyed was The Global Crisis by Geoffrey Parker. It's a fascinating look at war, religion and climate change in the 17th century. It supposes an idea of a "general crisis" taking place across the globe brought about by previous socioeconomic conditions, religious awakenings and social upheaval, but most of all, by climate change. The 17th Century was a genuine era of emergency, encompassing the whole world with events like the Thirty Years War in Europe, the collapse of Ming China, the near extinction of the Virginia Colony, the establishment of the Tokugawa shogunate, and the Puebla Revolt. It was referred to by some as the "Age of Iron" due to there being a genuine sense of global calamity. It's a very academic work (and I read the abridged version!) but it is chock full of information, research and first hand accounts of the people of the era. It established to me that this was one of the most fascinating periods in human history. 

In other realms of non-fiction, I also read The Sport and Prey of Capitalists by Linda McQuaig. It's a very short, but spectacularly enlightening read. It details the history of public ownership of utilities and natural resources in Canada, while also detailing long campaigns of poor deals and mismanagement by private entities. It compares and contrasts the systems here with those of other countries. There's notes on missed opportunities and possibilities for how we can make our own institutions better.

A book which acted as a real eye opener for me was Why Women Have Better Sex Under Socialism by Kristen R. Ghodsee. From showing how many early socialists were women, to the egalitarian thinking of other socialists and socialist writers, it also highlights how modern liberal democracy, and capitalism in particular, has made women less free and arguably less equal as well. It's a spectacular examination of how in Eastern Bloc nations, there was a long history of, at the very least, pandering to women's rights, establishing job and childcare opportunities to make something of a more level playing field among men and women, and makes a compelling argument that had the Eastern Bloc not adopted such policies, there would have been little impetus for Western nations to adopt them as well. Far from cheerleading for the East Bloc however, it rightly points out their flaws and failings, while also arguing that the ideas behind socialism could do a lot for our economic lives, and even our love lives.

I think the most shocking, if not the most radical book I read in 2020 though was The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming by David Wallace-Wells. It fleshes out what he wrote in a 2017 article, and runs the range of possible global outcomes across various levels of warming. He points out that with rising temperatures - and they will rise, it's only a matter of by how much - there's a gambit of problems which will impact across multiples spheres. Mass extinctions, spreading disease, rising sea levels, frequent natural disasters and increased risk of internal and external conflict between peoples. It's a grim read, but with a hopeful message. It pairs really well with another novel I read this year, The Ministry For the Future. Both are somewhat shocking examinations of the potential ramifications of climate change, and frankly, I would advertise them as must reads.

On a more fictional note, I also read Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. I've done a longer review for this one, but in brief; it takes the usual horror of Gothic fiction and transplants it to the highlands of Mexico. The story has everything you love from Gothic literature, creepy old houses, a reclusive family, and a very deep and disturbing mystery.

Another author who I was very fortunate to run into again was Max Brooks. I was able to re-read his cult classic World War Z, and his new, unique work Devolution. It was amusing to discover this year as well that the one movie monster my dad has a fear of is bigfoot. I got more than a little mileage out of this book by describing it to him. A fun and very unique take on the monster horror style, I definitely recommend this to horror buffs everywhere!

I also caught up with Brandon Sanderson's works by reading Rhythm of War. This is the latest work in the Stormlight Archive and a very well done piece. It defies a lot of your expectations and takes you deeper into the world of Roshar and his fictional cosmere as a whole.

Finally, one of the best novels I read this year was The Parable of the Sower. In my bid to expand beyond works I'd already read, I tried to find works recommend by others. This novel by Octavia Butler was highly recommended in many different circles and by many different authors. I dove in to this world in our near future and found myself entranced. It was a phenomenal read and one which I have to recommend to anyone who loves science fiction. Tracking down the sequel is one of my main reading goals for 2021, along with the rest of my reading list.

Of course, I did read 72 books this year, so I had a lot to choose from to celebrate. These books specifically though, were easily in the top ten of what I read among the re-reads to start the decade. I managed to reconnect with old favorites, while finding lots of new work which I could enjoy! I'm happy for what I accomplished this year, and I'm hoping I can read more next year!