Despite, or perhaps because of, the ongoing pandemic, 2021 was a phenomenal year for publishing. Though I did not get to nearly as many books as I would have liked, I read and reviewed 67 books this year. 

What follows is my personal top 5 of the most impactful, most beautiful, and most thought-provoking books I read during 2021.

1. Islands of Abandonment: Life in the Post-Human Landscape

Cat Flyn’s debut with HarperCollins is a poetic and spellbinding travelogue to dystopia that is surprisingly rich in ecological and biological detail. Islands of Abandonment explores how nature rushes back in when humans abandon places. It haunted me long after I finished it. Read more…

2. Life’s Edge: The Search for What It Means to Be Alive

A new book by Carl Zimmer is always reason to be excited. Life’s Edge is a fascinating exploration of the borderlands between the living and non-living world, showing how hard it is to answer the question of what life is.  It also cements Zimmer’s reputation as one of today’s finest science writers. Read more…

3. Beasts Before Us: The Untold Story of Mammal Origins and Evolution

Even though mammals have a long and rich evolutionary history that predates the dinosaurs, their early evolution is somewhat neglected in popular writing. Beasts Before Us tells their story. This spectacular debut of Scottish palaeontologist Elsa Panciroli shows her to have a fine way with words. Read more…

4. Ant Architecture: The Wonder, Beauty, and Science of Underground Nests

More ants this year! Ant Architecture shows how you can do groundbreaking research on a shoestring budget. Entomologist Walter R. Tschinkel has been making three-dimensional casts of ant nests for decades and discusses the fascinating scientific questions this throws up. Beautifully illustrated and phenomenally written, this is unlike any other book on insects you have seen before. Read more…

5. Plagues upon the Earth: Disease and the Course of Human History

A whopper of a book at almost 700 pages, Plagues Upon the Earth is a magnificent environmental history of infectious disease that stands out for its nuance and readability. Much more than a potted history of “celebrity” diseases, historian Kyle Harper revisits existing narratives in light of new data and methods. My recommendation of the year for background reading on the COVID-19 pandemic. Read more…

If you are looking for more recommendations, do check out my top 5s for 2020 and 2019. I have also recently added a single-page archive listing all reviews.

The Industrial Revolution has been a mixed blessing. Although it improved living standards and brought material prosperity to many, humanity and the environment have paid a high price, not least in the form of pollution. The Contamination of the Earth catalogues the many forms of past pollution but also examines the social and political aspects of it. In other words, how people were affected by it and responded to it, and how legislation and politics allowed it to happen, to persist, and to only grow with time. This sprawling and information-dense environmental history work does full justice to this large and serious topic, but be prepared for a read that is neither light nor uplifting.

The Contamination of the Earth: A History of Pollutions in the Industrial Age, written by François Jarrige and Thomas Le Roux, translated by  Janice Egan and Michael Egan, published by MIT Press in July 2020 (hardback, 459 pages)

This book was originally written in French by historians François Jarrige and Thomas le Roux and published in 2017 as La Contamination du Monde by Éditions Seuil. MIT Press publishes it as part of their History for a Sustainable Future Series, translated into English by husband-and-wife duo Janice and Michael Egan. The latter is one of the series editors and in his foreword mentions their decision to adhere to the French plural “pollutions” throughout the book to stress the many forms they take and the many origins they have. To an English audience, some writing might come across as rather convoluted and descriptive. To me, this suggests that the translation never strays far from the original, capturing that certain je ne sais quoi of the French language.

The Contamination of the Earth examines the period 1700–1973 in three parts: the emergence of industry from 1700 to 1830, its intensification and entrenchment in society from 1830 to 1914, and its diversification and ascent to world domination from 1914 to 1973.

In my reading, this book presents two faces to its reader. The first is already implied by the subtitle: a historical overview of pollutions during the industrial age. Though not encyclopaedic, it gives a very good feel for the sometimes literally breathtaking diversity of pollutions, especially the many now-forgotten ones. It serves as a healthy corrective to the idea that the past was a green and pleasant land, describing the pollutions from early factories producing e.g. textiles, paper, gunpowder, and metals; and the environmental legacy of the early mining industry in South America. The story of the Industrial Revolution is normally one of coal, steel, and steam engines, but also saw the rise of a chemical industry that used increasingly toxic heavy metals and concentrated acids to refine ingredients and produce a wide array of everyday objects. The discovery of petroleum might have rid us of the pollutions of horses, but gave us those of motorised transport in return. And the 20th century added plastics, nuclear waste, new pesticides, the Green Revolution in agriculture, planned obsolescence, and, from the 1950s onwards, the double whammy of increased population and affluence during the Great Acceleration, to name but some topics explored here.

“[The] historical overview […] gives a very good feel for the sometimes literally breathtaking diversity of pollutions [and] serves as a healthy corrective to the idea that the past was a green and pleasant land”

Several noteworthy themes emerge from this catalogue of waste. Despite their promises, many technologies only add more forms of pollution rather than displacing old ones. We still burn coal—more than ever in absolute terms actually—while Vaclav Smil cleverly titled one of his books Still the Iron Age. Another promise is that pollutions can be reduced, and efficiency increased, through technological inventions. Yet, the rebound effect means we inevitably consume and pollute more. One pernicious detail regarding mining is decreasing ore grades. We have extracted the richest ores first and need to mine and refine ever-larger amounts of raw material for the same quantity of metals, while simultaneously using more of them, multiplying pollutions dramatically. The authors do not mention the endgame to this (perhaps because it lies in the future), determined by energy returned on energy invested. Finally, some processes result in many more pollutions than is first apparent. Good examples from this book are wars and cars. The former obviously results in immediate destruction, but both world wars also involved mobilization phases in which environmental concerns were sidelined, while afterwards now-larger industries needed to find new ways to monetize their infrastructure. The latter are much more than just their tailpipe emissions, think production, maintenance, disposal, and an infrastructure that has created car-dependent landscapes. This is rarely mentioned in the current push for electric cars.

However, the real value of this book, and the one I think will be much appreciated by historians and other scholars, is the second face this book presents: the social and political history. Through numerous examples, Jarrige and Le Roux show that “between fatalism, resignation, complaints, and insurrections, pollutions were hardly accepted in tacit silence” (p. 143), and this is true throughout the history of industry. These concerns were expressed as much by the well-heeled as by the labourers on the factory floors. Simultaneously, some developments, such as electricity and industries setting up shop overseas, have created a divide between consumers and producers, rendering “almost imperceptible to the public the increase in emissions of toxic substances in the environment” (p. 237), at least in developed nations.

“today’s failed attempts at curbing and regulating pollution have a long history […] The same forces and dynamics […] are still at work, with techno-optimism and economic prosperity dominating the narrative”

What I found particularly enlightening is how the authors show that today’s failed attempts at curbing and regulating pollution have a long history. This takes you through some bizarre episodes such as the French hygienist movement that “was unmistakably a form of industrialism” (p. 119) and turned to chemistry to e.g. praise the antiseptic and health benefits of polluting fumes. It shows how, despite the difference in the type of law in force in the Anglo–American world (common law) versus mainland Europe (specific legislation on pollutions), the outcome was the same: fines and financial settlements that just became another line on company budgets. It shows the long history of industries denying and obfuscating evidence of pollutions and how sock-puppet scientists willing to sow doubt have been amongst us from the start. It shows how industry experts have dominated the conversation around solving pollutions, promoting recycling, dilution (think smokestacks), and the hollow promise of technofixes, but never questioning production itself. And how politicians, influenced by generations of industry lobbies and economic theories, have shown “a devoted and dedicated commitment to economic growth” (p. 320), treating pollutions as “acceptable, and even desirable” (p. 62).

The historical survey ends in 1973, just as the environmental movement gathered pace, famous NGOs were established, and green parties entered politics. The authors argue that the developments since then would require a separate book. Nevertheless, an extensive epilogue takes a first stab at this. As we know, what looked like a turn for the better was but a diversion. The same forces and dynamics outlined throughout the book are still at work, with techno-optimism and economic prosperity dominating the narrative and marginalizing the few voices who argue otherwise. Of note, they criticize the birth of the “paralyzing oxymoron” of sustainable development: “A propaganda tool for companies engaged in greenwashing [that] resembles more and more an empty promise used to maintain the status quo” (pp. 297–298). And they highlight how globalization, supported by the shipping industry (and, might I add, the shady sector of commodity traders), has allowed developed nations to smugly clean up their act at home by offshoring polluting forms of extraction and production to other continents. “The problem of environmental injustice has been renewed on a global scale” (p. 310), effectively reaching its logical endpoint.

The 80+ pages of notes give an entry point to a huge field of literature, French and otherwise. Only one factor that has contributed to the continued increase in pollutions seem to be missing to me: that of shifting baselines, the idea that each generation takes the state of their environment as the new normal, leading to a form of generational amnesia. This, of course, highlights exactly why this book is worth your time. Overall, The Contamination of the Earth is an ambitious book that offers a global overview of the history of industrial pollution. I found that reading it weighed on my mind, but I take that as a good sign: if a book on industrial pollution does not cause you some anxiety it is not doing its job properly.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The Contamination of the Earth

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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Rivers and oceans are easily neglected when it comes to pollution. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. Except that the oceans do not forget. Of all the water pollution problems, oxygen loss is probably one of the more abstract ones. Even the words used to describe it, hypoxia and anoxia, will be meaningless to those without a background in biology. In Dead Zones, marine scientist and microbiologist David L. Kirchman provides a general introduction to the problem of oxygen loss and why it matters.

Dead Zones: The Loss of Oxygen from Rivers, Lakes, Seas, and the Ocean, written by David L. Kirchman, published by Oxford University Press in April 2021 (hardback, 224 pages)

I thought you could not tell me anything new on this topic. After all, for my PhD, I spent five years in Finland studying how fish behaviour in the Baltic Sea is affected by eutrophication, the pollution caused by excess nutrients. The Baltic is one of several badly affected water bodies in the world due to the large land area that drains into it and the narrow connection with the North Sea. However, my studies focused on decreased underwater visibility due to algal blooms rather than oxygen loss. Dead Zones was thus a welcome surprise and refresher, showing that even I had only an incomplete picture of the problem.

So what are dead zones? They are areas of fresh or marine water that have low (hypoxia) or virtually no (anoxia) dissolved oxygen. As Kirchman clarifies in his prologue, the term is a bit dramatic. It does not mean that the whole water column is affected, often it is limited to the bottom layer. And they are not always completely dead, some organisms actually thrive here. But many creatures are sensitive to oxygen loss, leading to slower growth, fewer offspring, and poorer health. In extreme cases, it leads to the death of fish and bottom-dwelling invertebrates, reduced biodiversity, and reshuffled food webs.

Dead zones vary in size through time, influenced by weather and currents. But since about the 1950s, they have been steadily growing both in size and number, and we know the cause. Fed by excess nutrients, algae bloom. When they die, the bacteria decomposing them use up oxygen quicker than it can be refreshed. But before we get to this point in our understanding, the first half of the book takes the circuitous route through the history of their discovery.

“[Dead zones] were a natural occurrence in the past, but the frequency and severity have increased, and it all centres on roughly 1950.”

Some of the first dead zones that were widely noticed were the Great Stinks. Not that long ago, many rivers running through bustling cities in Europe and the US received large loads of untreated sewage. The resulting bacterial feast would rapidly consume all the oxygen and then switch to sulfate metabolism, releasing hydrogen sulfide with its characteristic smell of rotten eggs. Wastewater treatment facilities brought this problem under control, with rivers recovering and fish returning.

Much harder to notice were the dead zones developing in coastal areas, such as the Gulf of Mexico or Chesapeake Bay, or inland seas, such as the Black Sea or the Baltic Sea. Kirchman takes you through their discovery in the 1980s and the research by Nancy Rabalais and others to address the question whether they have always been there? The answer required the meticulous collection of long time series of oxygen measurements and the study of sediment cores that record past oxygen levels. The conclusion is that, yes, they were a natural occurrence in the past, but the frequency and severity have increased, and it all centres on roughly 1950. How so? More nutrients, specifically nitrogen and phosphorus. Where did they come from? Artificial fertiliser used in agriculture. As discussed here, there have been naysayers, both in scientific circles and amongst farmers and industry, but the evidence is pretty convincing by now.

Although Kirchman does not explicitly mention it, the 1950s marks a transition period dubbed the Great Acceleration during which our impact on the environment boomed. And the increase in nitrogen and phosphorus release is one of many indicators used by scientists to define the start of the Anthropocene. Two key figures Kirchman introduces here are Fritz Haber and Karl Bosch. The former developed a process to cheaply and efficiently fixate nitrogen, the latter scaled it up for the industrial production of explosives and artificial fertiliser. The Haber–Bosch process was one factor facilitating the human population explosion driving the Great Acceleration. As Kirchman mentions, “Depending on your diet, about half of the nitrogen in your body came from a factory using the Haber–Bosch process” (p. 96), and Vaclav Smil is quoted as writing that, without it, Earth would probably have only half the human population it has now.

“[…] these problems have been […] difficult to tackle. One factor is the inherent complexity of the system. […] There is no one-size-fits-all solution.”

Having arrived at the status quo, the second half of Dead Zones explains why these problems have been so difficult to tackle. One factor is the inherent complexity of the system. Which nutrient is the limiting one runs the full gamut from nitrogen in marine waters (mostly) to phosphorus in lakes, and sometimes neither. There is no one-size-fits-all solution. Similarly, as Kirchman explains, fish kills are not a problem suitable for a bumper sticker slogan to rally behind: “Dead Zones Kill Fish and Fishery Jobs” (p. 128). The reality is more nuanced. Oxygen depletion can, for example, boost fish landings when fish flee hypoxic zones and become easier to catch. And this leads to the second factor: all these complexities make it very easy for those who stand to lose from tougher environmental regulations to call for more research, and for legislators to hesitate to implement anything. However, as Kirchman points out: “[…] we cannot ignore dead zones just because the effect of hypoxia is complex” (p. 133). To that end, he offers a range of solutions, including things that you, the reader, can do.

Dissolved oxygen levels in water was never going to win the prize for the sexiest topic. Given this inherent handicap, Kirchman’s conversational tone makes Dead Zones nicely accessible. However, I do feel that the overall structure and clarity suffer somewhat, although I cannot quite put my finger on the why. The narrative ricochets between different topics and some things are only touched upon (e.g. the rise of jellyfish, or the release of neurotoxins during certain algal blooms). I did enjoy the historical sketches, they are Kirchman’s forte. At only 172 pages, this book is not a thorough overview but more a general introduction. Since these topics are normally discussed in scientific journals, reports, academic monographs, and edited collections, it is an introduction that is long overdue.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

Dead Zones

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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Normally the sight of photovoltaic panels and wind turbines fills me with hope, but I have my doubts after reading this book. Many politicians, business leaders, and environmental organisations argue that we need to invest in renewables to transition away from fossil fuels and the accompanying carbon dioxide emissions. What is rarely mentioned is that these technologies require the mining of rare metals: chemical elements such as rhenium, lithium, antimony, neodymium, tantalum, and many others that most people have barely heard of. In The Rare Metals War, French investigative journalist Guillaume Pitron sounds the alarm, showing both the environmental impact and China’s chokehold on the market.

I read this book in tandem with David S. Abraham’s slightly older The Elements of Power which I had been meaning to read for ages. Thus, this is the second of a two-part review dealing with these little-known elements that have silently come to dominate our lives.

The Rare Metals War: The Dark Side of Clean Energy and Digital Technologies, written by Guillaume Pitron, published by Scribe Publications in January 2021 (paperback, 263 pages)

This book was originally published in French in 2018 as La Guerre des Métaux Rares and was swiftly translated into eight languages. Although the publisher does not mention it, the English version has been updated, referencing events and reports up to 2019. Bianca Jacobsohn‘s excellent translation perfectly captures the urgency of the alarm that Pitron sounds.

After a brief introduction to the nature and numerous applications of rare metals, the first three chapters tackle pollution. Pitron surreptitiously visits major mining sites in China and Mongolia to see first-hand the destruction: the vast toxic sludge ponds that leach metals into the groundwater, the poisoned agricultural land, the villages where people suffer and die from pollution-inflicted diseases. “The Chinese people have sacrificed their environment to supply the entire planet with rare earths” (p. 28), says a Chinese rare-metal expert. And it is not just China, pollution accompanies the mining for cobalt in the Democratic Republic of Congo, chrome in Kazakhstan, and lithium in Latin America.

“It is all too easy to forget that our online world requires a huge infrastructure of data centres, cables, satellites, etc. requiring rare metals: “[…] the age of dematerialisation is nothing more than an outright ruse“”

What makes this so shocking is that this pollution is not spoken of in the West. Pitron is intent on opening your eyes and does not mince his words. “[…] in contrast to the carbon economy, whose pollution is undeniable, the new green economy hides behind virtuous claims of responsibility for the sake of future generations” (p. 54). It is all too easy to forget that our online world requires a huge infrastructure of data centres, cables, satellites, etc. requiring rare metals: “[…] the age of dematerialisation is nothing more than an outright ruse” (p. 44). It is even worse for renewable energy: “Put simply, clean energy is a dirty affair. Yet we feign ignorance because we refuse to take stock of the end-to-end production cycle of wind turbines and solar panels” (p. 53). And then on page 72, his coup de grâce: “Concealing the dubious origins of metals in China has given green and digital technologies the shining reputation they enjoy. This could very well be the most stunning greenwashing operation in history.“

Bowyer already highlighted this hypocritical contradiction in our attitude in The Irresponsible Pursuit of Paradise. Pitron here calls it “delocalised pollution”. While China does “the dirty work of manufacturing green-tech components“, the West happily buys “the pristine product while flaunting its sound ecological practices” (p. 71). He reminds us that: “everything comes at a cost: the globalisation of supply chains gives us consumer goods while taking away knowledge of their origins” (p. 81). For me, this part of the book was worth the price of admission alone, and it might come as a rude but necessary awakening for some readers.

“Concealing the dubious origins of metals in China has given green and digital technologies the shining reputation they enjoy. This could very well be the most stunning greenwashing operation in history”

The next four chapters tackle the second major topic of this book: the near-monopoly China now has on the supply of many rare metals. Pitron traces the history of how Europe and the US shuttered its rare metal mines, off-shored its heavy industries, and focused on high-value manufacturing with imported components and the service economy. China used this opportunity to the fullest and has come to dominate the production of many raw materials, including the rare earth elements so critical for high-tech applications. But that is only their first step towards becoming a global powerhouse, as their 2010 rare earth export quotas made clear. Companies are of course welcome to relocate their production to China, and many have done so to remain competitive. Though the west has cried foul, Pitron avoids anti-China sentiments by providing their perspective. At a conference, a Mongolian official clarifies that “Western businesses that, like the colonisers before them, sought only to mine resources to generate added value back home are no longer welcome” (p. 110). I could not help but think: can you blame them?

Our appetite for rare metals is rapidly growing and Pitron highlights that some could run out within decades. Mention of “peak anything” easily attracts derision, but I agree with him that we are in “collective denial of resource scarcity” (p. 162). Logically, we have used up the most rewarding and easily accessible resources first, so we mine and drill in ever more extreme environments, including plans to mine asteroids and . Bonus points for Pitron for mentioning the underappreciated concept of energy returned on energy invested that Ugo Bardi highlighted in Extracted. Producing energy costs energy. As long as there is a net gain, all is well, but ore grades (the concentration of desired material) have been in decline for decades. “[…] As Bardi concludes, ‘The limits to mineral extraction are not limits of quantity; they are limits of energy’” (p. 165).

“it is hard to argue with [Pitron’s] conclusion that “nothing will change so long as we do not experience, in our own backyards, the full cost of attaining our standard of happiness“”

Pitron’s proposed solution is unusual, but I like it. Reopen mines in the West. Not just to compete with China, but to make consumers “realise—to our horror—the true cost of our self-declared modern, connected, and green world” (p. 177). He hopes that this will finally move us to dial down our consumption. And it is hard to argue with his conclusion that “nothing will change so long as we do not experience, in our own backyards, the full cost of attaining our standard of happiness” (p. 178).

The Rare Metals War is a powerful and sobering exposé that will no doubt shatter the green dreams of many readers. However, we cannot continue to ignore the material reality that underlies the green revolution that politicians and environmental organisations want us to pursue. This book is a much-needed conversation starter.

So, how does it compare to Abraham’s The Elements of Power? I considered the former to be remarkably comprehensive: it covers pollution and China’s monopoly, and several other topics besides. And yet, its tone is more neutral and might not set alarm bells ringing. Abraham seems concerned but optimistic about the promise of green technology. Maybe it is something about the French, but Pitron is much more outspoken by calling out our collective hypocrisy in the West and suggesting we act on the root problem of overconsumption. If Abraham informs you widely, Pitron wakes you up—I found both takes on this topic very useful and recommend both books highly.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The Rare Metals War

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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7-minute read

Tantalum, tellurium, indium, niobium, germanium, dysprosium, rhenium, yttrium, neodymium, titanium, lithium, tungsten, cobalt. These are but some of the many chemical elements that are collectively known as rare metals. You will probably recognize only a few of them, but trace quantities are in products and structures all around you, making things stronger, faster, and lighter. They are used to make smartphones, laptops, and fibre-optic cables; but also cars, airplanes, and military weapon systems; and even photovoltaic panels and wind turbines. We live in the Rare Metal Age, writes natural resources strategist David S. Abraham here.

I have been meaning to read this book for ages. With the recent publication of Guillaume Pitron’s The Rare Metals War, now is the right time. Thus, this is the first of a two-part review dealing with these little-known elements that have silently come to dominate our lives.

The Elements of Power: Gadgets, Guns, and the Struggle for a Sustainable Future in the Rare Metal Age, written by David S. Abraham, published by Yale University Press in June 2017 (paperback, 319 pages)

Before proceeding, about that name, rare metals. Also known as minor metals, it is a blanket term that includes rare earth elements. And though metallurgists cannot agree on a definition, the Minor Metals Trade Association currently recognizes 49 metals, encompassing pretty much everything that is not a base (e.g. iron or copper) or precious metal (e.g. gold or silver). The rarity can refer to their limited consumption (hundreds vs. millions of tons annually), but also their geological occurrence. Some are scarce, while others are plentiful but so dilute that they rarely can be mined profitably.

Nomenclature aside, there are many reasons why rare metals are exceptional, unpredictable, and troublesome. The Elements of Power explores numerous facets of our use of them, and I found this book to be remarkably balanced and comprehensive in its coverage.

First off, simply developing a mine is not straightforward. Their geology means there are only limited places where a metal can be profitably mined, allowing a few countries or companies to monopolise the world’s supply. This leads to geopolitical tensions, and when China restricted rare earth exports in 2010, it rattled industries around the world.

“Every mineral vein is different and optimising the production process can take years of trial and error.”

Furthermore, extraction and purification are expensive and “[m]any rare metals are so technically challenging for chemists to produce that it is better to think of them as chemical creations rather than geological minerals” (p. 69). Every mineral vein is different and optimising the production process can take years of trial and error. Several decades can pass between a mining company finding willing investors and producing metals. There is no cookbook you can turn to. Well, there is, but even so, a lot of knowledge is hard-earned and jealously guarded. And with rare metal specialists a dying breed due to the lack of dedicated university departments in Europe and the US, there has been a brain-drain towards Asia.

Then there is the lack of openness in the trading sector. Commodity traders are already a shady bunch, but as Abraham’s interviews with anonymous sources reveal, this sector is “a web of small companies of specialty traders“, with materials having to travel “through a murky network of traders, processors, and component manufacturers” (p. 90). There are no exchanges such as for oil with accepted benchmark prices. Business is very much about who you know—backroom deals, smuggling, and distrust are rife. “No one really knows the true size of these markets. Even the U.S. Geological Survey […] won’t hazard a guess […]” (p. 91). And given that many rare metals are recovered as by-products of other mining activities, there is no neat supply-and-demand relationship, resulting in volatile prices.

The economic side of rare metals is, in short, complex. And that is a problem, as we use much. Abraham gives numerous examples of their use in our gadgets, cars, airplanes, and weapons. The iPhone “relies on nearly half the elements on the planet” (p. 2), while “the newest weapon systems like the F-35 are flying periodic tables” (p. 168). And we will need even more in the future for green technologies: for the magnets in wind turbines and the batteries in electric cars. Once Abraham works through these examples, you realise that these technologies are anything but “green”.

“[…] we will need even more [rare metals] in the future for green technologies: for the magnets in wind turbines and the batteries in electric cars. Once Abraham works through these examples, you realise that these technologies are anything but “green””

Mining in general “[…] speeds up otherwise relatively benign natural processes that usually occur over millennia […] (p. 180). Some have even called it planetary plunder. But rare-metal mining is even more taxing on the environment. Abraham describes the different refining steps—the crushing of rock, the leaching of ores using strong acids—highlighting how energy-intensive and polluting these practices are. And in case you are wondering, recycling “[…] is not a panacea. It too has its own environmental consequences […]” (p. 177). Next to the challenges of gathering the waste and getting people to recycle rather than discard, separating complex devices back into their component elements is no less energy-intensive and polluting. An important point Abraham makes is that “the combination of metals in products like batteries and even steel are in far more complex alloys than the finite set found in nature” (p. 190). Often, whether recycling is even possible has simply not been studied yet.

If rare metals are so problematic, can we not just swap one metal for another? The answer is no, but outside material scientists, few understand the subtleties. The performance we now routinely demand from our technology is such that we cannot simply substitute one metal for another without sacrificing performance, affordability, structural integrity, or weight. And what is true of weapons, “[w]ithout some of these minor metals you would have to go back to 1960s or 1970s performance” (p. 166), holds for most applications.

“The performance we now routinely demand from our technology is such that we cannot simply substitute one metal for another without sacrificing performance, affordability, structural integrity, or weight.”

The combination of few mines, opaque and complex supply chains, and the booming demand for these metals makes for a very uncertain future that has analysts and governments concerned. Demand is likely to outstrip supply, at least in the short term: “[…] we could be condemned to a fossil fuel world, if we cannot bolster the rare metal supply lines we need to support our green technologies” (p. 136), warns Abraham. When even the former CEO of mining giant Vale is quoted as saying “[t]he reality is the planet is very small for the number of inhabitants we will see in 2025” (p. 219), I cannot help but wonder how much of this an endless rat race of techno-fixes that are doomed to fail. Nevertheless, Abraham’s envisioned solution is not to shy away from using them but to double down: “to search for more sources, use them more efficiently, and advance our knowledge of geology, metallurgy, and material science” (p. 219).

The Elements of Power tackles this topic from many angles, and Abraham is a knowledgeable guide, not least because of his insider perspective of what is happening in China and Japan. This book was everything I hoped for and provided numerous “aha” moments. If you want to better understand what the deal is with rare metals, this book comes highly recommended.

Can Pitron add to this? I will turn to The Rare Metals War next to find out, but, spoiler alert, the answer is yes. Foremost, Pitron will give you reason to pause and question the cost of the transition to green technologies.

The Elements of Power

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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Marine biologist Helen Scales returns for her third book with Bloomsbury’s popular science imprint Bloomsbury Sigma. After shells and fish, she now drags the reader down into the darkest depths of the deep sea. Both a beautifully written exploration of the ocean’s otherworldly wonders and a searing exposé of the many threats they face, The Brilliant Abyss is Scales’s most strident book to date.

The Brilliant Abyss: True Tales of Exploring the Deep Sea, Discovering Hidden Life and Selling the Seabed, written by Helen Scales, published in Europe by Bloomsbury Publishing in March 2021 (hardback, 352 pages)

Sir David Attenborough has probably said it best: “No one will protect what they do not care about; and no one will care about what they have never experienced“. Both Scales and the publisher have taken that message to heart and the book is neatly designed. As with her previous book, illustrator Aaron John Gregory is involved again, this time providing two beautiful end plates and an eye-catching cover, while the colour plate section contains some outstanding photos. But at the heart of The Brilliant Abyss is Scales’s captivating writing.

First, consider the landscape. As she explains, the seabed, shaped by plate tectonics, is far from a featureless bathtub. Spreading centres create mid-ocean ridges, colossal mountain ranges that girdle the planet, while subduction zones where oceanic crust plunges back into the planet form deep-sea trenches of terrifying depths. The abyssal plain in between is studded with active or extinct underwater volcanoes that form seamounts of great import to marine life. Wherever magma approaches the surface, percolating seawater becomes superheated, rising back to the surface laden with dissolved minerals and metals. They form hydrothermal vents: towering structures that are home to unique fauna and are “the deep-sea equivalent of hot springs and geysers on land” (p. 97). Woven throughout is a history of scientific exploration, from the first oceanographic expeditions to today’s robotic submersibles, and from pioneering deep-sea explorers to today’s trench-diving billionaires.

Otherworldly as the landscape is, the real stars of this realm are its fauna. Scales’s knowledge and love of marine biology shine through here, as she populates the pages with a bewildering cast of creatures. Notable examples of bizarre deep-sea fishes are included, but she gives you so much more. Whale carcasses, so-called whale falls, become complete ecosystems, home to bone-eating Osedax worms with unusual sex lives. Large gelatinous members of the drifting plankton, such as colonial siphonophores and giant larvaceans, form previously underappreciated links in the food web. Hydrothermal vents are crowded with worms and furry Yeti crabs that domesticate symbiotic bacteria capable of chemosynthesis, the “dark alternative to photosynthesis” (p. 104). Meanwhile, one species of snail makes its shell out of iron! And then there are the corals. No, not the familiar tropical corals who “hog not only the sunlight but the limelight” (p. 129); the lesser-known cold-water corals that occur at great depths and grow even slower.

“[…] the real stars of this realm are its fauna […] whale falls become complete ecosystems, home to bone-eating Osedax worms with unusual sex lives. […] Meanwhile, one species of snail makes its shell out of iron!”

And if the intrinsic value of biodiversity does not sway you, Scales is no stranger to discussing the deep’s instrumental values. The capacity of seawater to absorb heat and carbon dioxide. The role of global oceanic currents in regulating our climate. Or the carbon pump provided by marine snow; the constant rain of dead plankton, fish poop, and other organic debris that descends into the depths. And what of the quest for new classes of biological compounds with antiviral, anti-bacterial, or anti-cancer properties that could form the pharmaceutical drugs and antibiotics of the future?

Two-thirds through the book Scales switches gears. Now that she has your attention, it is time to highlight the many dangers the deep faces. Deep-sea fishing targets long-lived, slow-growing species such as orange roughy. Vulnerable seamounts with millennia-old corals are destroyed by trawlers in a matter of hours. Meanwhile, the promise of food for everyone is not being met. Vast catch volumes are being turned into fish meal for aquaculture and pet food, or questionable nutraceuticals such as omega-3-oil supplements. And where Daniel Pauly already gave me reason to be suspicious of the Marine Stewardship Council, Scales lays bare their dubious raison d’être: funded by royalties from sales of their eco-labelled fish, there is an imperative to keep certifying fisheries. She calls their scandalous certification of the “recovering” orange roughy population a “case of a dead cat bouncing, with a green-washed eco-label tied to its collar” (p. 204).

Scales made me shudder with her stories of pollution, especially the persistent legacy of the large-scale dumping of chemical weapons. But the topic that concerns her most is the looming spectre of deep-sea mining. Though much is still on the drawing boards, mining licenses are being issued and exploratory missions are taking place. What for? The minerals and metals contained in seamounts, hydrothermal vents, and the polymetallic nodules littering the seabed, which take millions of years to form. As with fishing, “the slow pace of the deep is out of step with the timescale of impatient human demands” (p. 205). Here too, the position of the body that oversees protection of the seabed, the International Seabed Authority, is incredibly compromised. Next to issuing mining permits they unbelievably have already assigned areas to be exploited by their own mining company!

“To think that [deep-sea mining] will result in anything but the rapacious plundering of ecosystems we have seen on land seems highly unlikely in her eyes. Meanwhile, the mining PR-machine is already running at full tilt […]”

Scales’s focus on deep-sea mining is urgently needed. Scientists have been sounding alarm bells in the peer-reviewed literature regarding its impact, but this topic is still mostly hidden from the public at large. Her descriptions of the destructive practices and the size of the machines involved are chilling. To think that this will result in anything but the rapacious plundering of ecosystems we have seen on land seems highly unlikely in her eyes. Meanwhile, the mining PR-machine is already running at full tilt, and Scales deftly disarms their arguments as to why deep-sea mining is necessary. She agrees that the shift to renewable energy requires infrastructure that needs tremendous amounts of diverse metals. However, as a detour into the design of wind turbines shows, predicting which ones will be needed is difficult. And whether the seabed is the best place to get them is highly questionable.

Scales tackles many of the same topics that Alex Rogers covered in . Her tone is more strident but no less knowledgeable and, as opposed to The Deep, her book does include endnotes with references. I recommend them both highly. Meanwhile, her call “to declare the entire realm off limits [to] extraction of any kind” (p. 286) meshes seamlessly with Deborah Rowan Wright’s bold vision laid out in Future Sea.

Whether you enjoyed her previous books or are new to her brand of writing about marine biology, I urge you to read this book. Next to an unforgettable trip, she provides a rousing rallying cry for the preservation of the deep sea. The Brilliant Abyss is, true to its title, brilliant.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The Brilliant Abyss

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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When it comes to environmental issues, certain topics steal the limelight, with climate change, deforestation, and biodiversity loss being prominent examples. However, humans have only so much time and energy available, meaning that other, potentially more pressing problems might not get the attention they deserve. Resource depletion, specifically all the materials we dig up from the Earth’s crust, has always struck me as one of them. It is easy to underestimate just how thoroughly dependent modern civilization is on a vast range of very basic substances. As we continue to extract these at ever-accelerating rates, competition and conflict seem inevitable. Guessing by the title of this book, Australian business journalist Geoff Hiscock seems to think so too. Yet this book was not quite what I was expecting.

Earth Wars: The Battle for Global Resources, written by Geoff Hiscock, published by John Wiley & Sons in April 2012 (hardback, 286 pages)

Hiscock’s main goal with Earth Wars is to introduce the major economies (especially China and India) that are consuming Earth’s resources and the kinds of resources they are competing for. Given that this book was published in 2012, it is inevitable that some information here is outdated, although the larger theme of future resource conflict holds up. Two factors, in particular, have given this book a somewhat limited shelf life.

First is Hiscock’s choice to give a snapshot of the state of play at the start of 2012. After having introduced the major movers and shakers (the trading, mining, and energy companies), a large part of the book consists of chapters discussing both resources and capacities. The former covers primarily fresh water, fossil fuels (oil, gas, and coal), uranium, and metals such as copper and iron ore, both how much is being consumed and how much is still in the ground. The latter gives an overview of the sizes and output of mines, oil and gas fields, refineries, power stations, and assorted renewable energy infrastructures. The book goes into great detail which companies have stakes and investments in what and for how much, and which countries are expected to become important resource suppliers and see strong economic growth. By now, of course, this snapshot of the global economy has become dated, but as a historical overview of where we were at the time of publication that is fine.

“Given that this book was published in 2012 [Hiscock’s] snapshot of the global economy has become dated, but as a historical overview of where we were at the time of publication that is fine.”

A second aspect of this book that has aged less well is Hiscock’s mention of the numerous forecasts, outlooks, predictions, and plans of all these companies and countries. Following up on each statement would be tantamount to rewriting this book, but when out of curiosity I did some spot checks it was clear that things have not always panned out as expected. For example, the Ok Tedi copper mine in Papua New Guinea, subject of a 1996 environmental damage lawsuit, did not close in 2013 as expected, while the plans to turn the Australian Olympic Dam mine into the world’s largest open-pit mine were shelved by the time this book was published. Other things came to pass, but not quite as expected. The Brazilian Belo Monte dam was completed in 2019 rather than 2015, but already seems to be running into trouble, while the repeatedly-mentioned planned merger between global commodities trader Glencore and mining company Xstrata turned into a takeover. Of course, I do not expect Hiscock to have a crystal ball, but readers will have to keep this in mind.

Every reader comes to a book with certain expectations of what will be discussed. These not being met does not necessarily mean the book should be judged negatively. With that caveat in mind, I was nevertheless surprised that Hiscock fails to engage with the impossibility of endless growth on a finite resource base, all the more so as he is aware of it. The publisher’s blurb mentions the “ongoing scramble for finite natural resources“, chapter 1 opens with the acknowledgement that “the pressure on the planet’s finite resources is rising rapidly” (p. 1). Even the concept of the Great Acceleration is not new to him, as evidenced when he quotes Rio Tinto chief executive Tom Albanese, speaking in 2011: “Over the next 30 years it is projected that the world will consume as much copper as it has over the last 10,000 years” (p. 139). Regarding iron ore mining in Australia Hiscock estimates that “By 2020, mining in the Pilbara could reach 1 billion tonne a year, meaning that without further resource discoveries, the ore could be gone within 30 years” (p. 162). Does this not set any alarm bells ringing?

“I was […] surprised that Hiscock fails to engage with the impossibility of endless growth on a finite resource base, all the more so as he is aware of it.”

The book’s title suggests that the likely outcome is (violent) conflict. And though Hiscock highlights hotspots, he does not really explore this theme. Nor does he ever question any of the industry executives or business leaders he had access to while writing this book. What will they do when the resource party fizzles out? Is it even ethical or desirable to turn the planet inside out to get at the last resources? I feel this is a missed opportunity, especially from a journalist with access to some very elite business circles. I will have to dust off my copies of Bardi’s Extracted and Klare’s The Race for What’s Left for a future review.

As Eileen Crist highlighted in Abundant Earth (I keep coming back to this book), the language people employ is very revealing. Earth Wars describes our planet as an endless portfolio of assets to be acquired, of reserves to be brought on stream, of blocks to be developed. And I get the uncomfortable feeling that when Hiscock speaks of Earth Wars, he is not talking about the actual warfare in our future, but of the competition between businesses. Like a game show host, he writes of Russia that if it can get its act together and overcome the many challenges ahead “it will be a genuine Earth Wars winner“. And a bit further on: “If the Earth Wars were a sporting contest, here’s how the half-time score might stand at the beginning of 2012 […]” (p. 261).

Beg your pardon?

This is not a lazy Sunday afternoon game of football where afterwards we all get to pat each other on the back for a match well played and go home for supper! It is hard not to come away with the impression that these business sectors are run by people with some serious tunnel vision.

“I get the uncomfortable feeling that when Hiscock speaks of Earth Wars, he is not talking about the actual warfare in our future […] Like a game show host, he writes of Russia that if it can get its act together […] “it will be a genuine Earth Wars winner“”

Putting these ideological differences aside for a moment, there were some interesting bits I did take away from this book. The book drives home the point how interconnected these industries are with pretty much everyone having fingers in each other’s pies. Hiscock also lifts a corner of the veil on the little-known business sector of global commodity traders that aim “to keep the lowest possible profile” (p. 39) – the upcoming The World for Sale promises to rip the veil off this completely. And though sand does not feature here, he does briefly mention the importance of rare earth elements that “one day may prove the biggest mining bonanza of them all” (p. 2). I discuss these more in-depth in reviews of The Elements of Power and The Rare Metals War.

For readers interested in the economics of natural resources, Earth Wars provides an in-depth snapshot. By its very nature, this picture is now dated, and not all material here has aged well. The title personally led me to expect a different take on the topic than the one Hiscock delivers here, so I will be turning to below books to explore this topic further.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

Earth Wars

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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Something happened to the world sometime after 1945. Something that included the end of World War II and post-war recovery, but was far more fundamental than that.

Humanity went into overdrive.

In my reading on the Anthropocene, this book and this phrase keep cropping up. The Great Acceleration gives a bird’s-eye view of the environmental history of our world since the 1950s. A period when multiple factors—technological, medical, and demographical—converged to propel the human species onto a trajectory of unprecedented growth.

The Great Acceleration: An Environmental History of the Anthropocene Since 1945, written by John R. McNeill and Peter Engelke, published by Belknap Press (a Harvard University Press imprint) in April 2016 (paperback, 275 pages)

Let me begin with two pieces of background information to set the scene. First, this book. It was originally published in 2014 as chapter 3 of the book Global Interdependence. This, in turn, is the sixth volume of Harvard University Press’s ambitious book series A History of the World which is almost complete (only the second volume remains in preparation as of this moment). At well over 1,000 pages per volume, these books are no lightweights and notable contributions have been reissued in paperback, as happened for this book in 2016.

Second, the term “Anthropocene”. Coined in the year 2000 by Paul Crutzen and Eugene Stoermer, it describes the most recent period in human history in which our activities, and especially their unintended consequences, have started significantly impacting, even overwhelming, Earth’s natural biogeochemical cycles. I have previously reviewed The Anthropocene as a Geological Time Unit which makes the geological case for this term (McNeill contributed to this book). The Great Acceleration draws on environmental history to make the case that the Anthropocene started around the 1950s. In four large chapters, the authors touch on a range of topics to show how this has been “the most anomalous and unrepresentative period in [our] 200,000-year-long history” (p. 5).

“The Great Acceleration gives a bird’s-eye view of the environmental history of our world since the 1950s. […] “certainly the most anomalous and unrepresentative period in [our] 200,000-year-long history“”

First they turn to two of the biggest drivers of the many Anthropocene signatures: energy and population. Fossil fuels unlocked plentiful energy, with the coal-driven Industrial Revolution just a warm-up exercise. In the decades after World War II, several factors converged (the rise of consumer culture, the desire for affluence going global, oil overtaking coal) to explode energy consumption. Of all the quoted numbers I will just mention one: “our species has probably used more energy since 1920 than in all of our prior human history” (p. 9). Cheap energy expanded the scope of what was economically rewarding, bringing into existence new energy-intensive activities, e.g. the Haber–Bosch process to produce artificial fertiliser. Another contributing factor was, of course, population growth, with our numbers more than tripling from 2.3 to 7.2 billion between 1945 and 2015. Of note, though, is McNeill and Engelke’s nuanced attitude on this topic. Through a range of examples they show that the axiom of modern environmentalism, that more people means more environmental damage, “is not true always and everywhere. When and where it is true, the degree to which it is true is extremely variable” (p. 50). That said, our hunger for energy causes environmental problems at every step: during extraction (mining and drilling), refinement, transportation (particularly oil spills), and burning (air pollution).

Closest to home for me was the second chapter which covered climate and biodiversity. Some of the topics discussed here are the rise in atmospheric CO₂, the history of climate science, and its entry into the political arena. But also biodiversity loss, global deforestation, and overfishing. When you plot these in graphs, many of them, though not deforestation, show a clear upward inflection point around the 1950s.

“”The entire life experience of almost everyone now living has taken place within the eccentric historical moment of the Great Acceleration“. […] We take this to be the new normal, but this “brief blip in human history” cannot last.”

Less familiar ground for me was the chapter covering cities and the economy. This discusses urbanisation and its discontents (poverty and slums, and the effect of the car on suburbs) and experiments with green(er) cities. Economic growth was enabled by, again, abundant energy, population growth (more people means more economic activity), and technological inventions. Two particularly influential inventions are highlighted here. First, the humble shipping container that, since its invention in 1956, “did more to promote international trade than all free trade agreements put together” (p. 136). Second, the explosion around WWII in mass production of many new variants of that miracle material: plastic; though that love affair quickly soured when we discovered most of it ends up in the ocean. McNeill and Engelke furthermore consider both global economic patterns (former colonies and socialist countries being brought into the capitalist fold) and regional economic shifts in Asia and Russia, plus the dissenting views of ecological economics and sustainable development that have nevertheless not been able to stem economic growth.

The most interesting chapter for me was the last one on the Cold War and the rise of environmentalism. Noteworthy highlights here are the environmental cost of nuclear weapons production and testing, and how it spawned much of the environmental movement. The insanity of China’s Great Leap Forward that, through failed grain production and Mao Zedong’s fetish for steel production, took a staggering toll on both humans and the environment. Or the environmental legacy of the Cold War in Southern Africa and Vietnam—we all know Agent Orange, but look up Rome plows. When McNeill and Engelke chart the rise of the environmental movement, they look well beyond the cliché of young hippies and the idea that only wealthy Westerners, no longer worried about meeting their basic needs, have environmental concerns. Environmentalism became wedded to social justice movements for many of the world’s poor who found themselves at the receiving end of what Rob Nixon has called the “slow violence” of pollution and climate change. And it became wedded to political dissent in socialist Russia and China where environmentalism was long suppressed.

“”to date, the Anthropocene and the Great Acceleration coincide. But they will not for long” […]. Their disentangling heralds a new transition […] for which we are woefully unprepared.”

The most frightening and simultaneously eye-opening insight this book offers is that of shifting baselines: “Only one in twelve persons now alive can remember anything before 1945. The entire life experience of almost everyone now living has taken place within the eccentric historical moment of the Great Acceleration” (p. 5). We take this to be the new normal, but this “brief blip in human history” cannot last. The authors remain agnostic on whether the future holds sustainability or collapse, whether our environmental legacy will haunt us for generations to come or outlive us. However, “to date, the Anthropocene and the Great Acceleration coincide. But they will not for long” (p. 208). Their disentangling heralds a new transition, whether to collapse or a steady-state economy, for which we are woefully unprepared.

The range of countries and historical episodes included make The Great Acceleration a deeply informed and refreshingly broad work. If you want to understand how the whole world veered onto a radically new trajectory post-1950s, this compact book is a fascinating and quick read that offers a bird’s-eye view.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The Great Acceleration

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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Harvard University Press’s A History of the World series:

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In his book Half-Earth, the famous biologist E.O. Wilson proposed setting aside half of the planet’s surface for conservation purposes. Deborah Rowan Wright will do you one better; given how important they are for life on the planet, how about we completely protect the oceans. What, all of it? Yes, not half, all of it. We need a gestalt shift, from “default profit and exploitation to default care and respect” (p. 11). Such a bold proposal is likely to elicit disbelief and cynicism—”Impossible!”—and Wright has experienced plenty of that. But hear her out, for sometimes we are our own worst enemy. Future Sea is a surprisingly grounded, balanced, and knowledgeable argument that swayed me because, guess what, the oceans are already protected.

Future Sea: How to Rescue and Protect the World’s Oceans, written by Deborah Rowan Wright, published by The University of Chicago Press in November 2020 (hardback, 192 pages)

This was the book’s most surprising revelation, at least for me. Legally speaking, the oceans are already under full protection. Having worked on topics such as ocean governance reform and public-trust law, Wright is perfectly positioned to dig into law statutes and serve up the relevant sections to prove her point. Between the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Laws of the Sea (UNCLOS III), the 1992 Convention on Biodiversity, and a raft of other global codes and treaties, 96.5% of the Earth’s oceans are already legally protected from exploitation, pollution, and other miscreants. This is where Wright starts asking the first of a series of very simple, seemingly naïve questions, a strategy she repeats throughout the book. The laws are there, why are they not working?

Unfortunately, like so many other international laws, they are paper tigers that are not really enforced. We have no planetary government, if you will, that has the power to hold individual countries to account. And although countries can exert pressure on one another via high-level organisations such as the United Nations: “when it comes to the sea the weight of the upright majority isn’t available to force compliance because much of the upright majority is itself breaking the laws that protect it” (p. 22).

Of all the perils facing our oceans that Wright mentions—plastic pollution, deep-sea mining, marine aquaculture, climate change, ocean acidification, coral bleaching, ghost fishing—she focuses on overfishing. She explains that vital concept of shifting baseline syndrome: the creeping form of collective amnesia that makes each generation accept a progressively more degraded environment as the new normal. How industrial-scale overfishing came about, and how government subsidies are now keeping it afloat. And how many regulatory bodies such as Regional Fisheries Management Organizations seem set up to fail by focusing on profit rather than protection. The International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tuna (ICCAT) is mentioned here as a particularly egregious example.

“[…] Wright starts asking the first of a series of very simple, seemingly naïve questions, a strategy she repeats throughout the book. The laws are there, why are they not working?”

However, as she clarifies early on, “Protection doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t use something. It can also mean using something well” (p. 12–13). She is balanced enough in her argumentation to highlight that properly managed large-scale fisheries do not necessarily deplete fish populations (this was also an important theme of Ocean Recovery). Furthermore, the benefits of Marine Protected Areas and marine reserves have been well documented. Fish and other species can recover so quickly that even sceptical fishermen frequently become their staunchest defenders when their livelihoods improve again. Next to these top-down approaches, she discusses successful examples of community-based marine conservation, such as small-scale fisheries in Fiji and Palau.

Another important concept to understand is how the sea is divvied up. Every coastal country has an Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) that extends for two hundred miles seawards where they have exclusive jurisdiction. Everything outside of that (64% of ocean surface, 95% of ocean volume) is the high seas. A global commons* that, on paper, should be a jointly owned resource set aside for public use. In reality, it is a lawless wild west where some of the most depraved excesses of human cruelty play out. Yet, where overfishing is concerned, it need not be so. Ecosystem-based management, which considers whole ecosystems with all their interdependencies, is all the rage nowadays. We already have an example of this strategy working on the high seas: the Convention on the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR), which was initially negotiated to protect Antarctic krill.

So, how can Wright’s bold plan of protecting the oceans become reality, she asks? In short by modernizing, implementing, and enforcing the law. As she shows here, all three steps are already underway or can be achieved. Political inertia is great, however, and time is running out. So, how do you get governments to act now? As Adam Ansel once wrote in Playboy, horrified: “we have to fight our own government to save our environment” (p. 79). Recent years have seen unprecedented legal cases where citizens have taken governments to court for neglecting environmental laws. And won. We, the people, have to hold them accountable, for they do not have to live with the repercussions of their poor decisions. Wright pointedly observes of politicians and business leaders that: “They’re mostly wealthy men in their fifties, sixties, and seventies and will be dead before very long” (p. 84).

“[…] Wright [points] out the power of language in shaping our perception. Take that loaded term “ocean management” […] “we should be managing ourselves […] “Ocean management” then becomes “people management”“.”

At this point in the book I started shifting in my chair uneasily. As I have written elsewhere, I am frustrated with the environmental movement’s narrative that casts politics and business as evil overlords. These discussions are hollow, hypocritical even, if they do not also consider the question of self-limitation: what is each of us willing to forego and give up for a better world?

I was very pleased, therefore, that Wright fully acknowledges and embraces this ethos. Best of all, she discusses more than just token efforts such as “shop responsibly” and “avoid single-use plastics”, tackling the big topics such as dropping meat and dairy from your diet and, significantly, having fewer children (I am so pleased to see this becoming part of the mainstream conversation around environmental issues). On that note, one last noteworthy thing is how Wright takes a leaf from Eileen Crist’s Abundant Earth when it comes to pointing out the power of language in shaping our perception. Take that loaded term “ocean management”. Given that oceans have existed for billions of years before we appeared (and did just fine, thank you very much) “we should be managing ourselves […] “Ocean management” then becomes “people management”” (p. 97)

I admit that Wright’s initial brief raised my eyebrows. However, her even-handed treatment of the subject and her insights into environmental law quickly tempered my scepticism. The way forward proposed here will not be easy, and she never pretends it will be, but the urgency with which she makes her case is utterly convincing. Future Sea is a galvanising book.

* The term “commons” was made famous by ecologist Garrett Hardin’s 1968 Science paper The Tragedy of the Commons, though it need not be a tragedy, political economist Elinor Ostrom would later argue in Governing the Commons.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

Future Sea

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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The best way to introduce this book is to quote the first sentence of the blurb: “Techno-Fix challenges the pervasive belief that technological innovation will save us from the dire consequences of the 300-year fossil-fuelled binge known as modern industrial civilization“. Stinging, provocative, and radical, Techno-Fix puts its fingers on many a sore spot with its searing critique.

Techno-Fix: Why Technology Won’t Save Us or the Environment, written by Michael Huesemann and Joyce Huesemann, published by New Society Publishers in September 2011 (paperback, 435 pages)

You might ask why, in 2021, I would bother reviewing a book published ten years ago. Both for the prosaic reason that I have had this book for some years without reading it, and because I am working on a little something that I cannot divulge yet. Plus, as it turns out, because this book is still relevant despite having been published in 2011.

The Huesemanns, Michael a biotechnologist with an interest in sustainability, Joyce an academic and activist, pull no punches in Techno-Fix. Our technology has brought us tremendous affluence and a world population growth spurt, but it also has unintended consequences that are both unavoidable and unpredictable. Some examples discussed here are climate change resulting from the generation of energy, the unknown effects of most synthetic chemicals, the pollution accompanying industrial activities, or the way the introduction of the car reshaped the world.

Even more outspoken is their statement that most technology is exploitative, abusing ecosystems, animals, and other humans. The industrial and globalised nature of much technology blunts us to this by creating distance in either space or time between exploiter and exploited. Do you know where your stuff comes from and who made it? Do you have a care for the planet your grandchildren will inherit? With the same fury that would later characterise Abundant Earth, the authors speak of the human domination of nature and the brainwashing by television and other mass media. The frequent references to TV might seem outdated given how online social media has ballooned in the last decade, but it has arguably not changed the beast much. And where free-market trade does not get us the needed resources, “high-tech military technology plays a key role in ensuring the continued exploitation and control of natural resources that are essential to maintaining the materialistic consumer lifestyle” (p. 68). Theirs is a bleak outlook on our modern society indeed.

“”high-tech military technology plays a key role in ensuring the continued exploitation and control of natural resources that are essential to maintaining the materialistic consumer lifestyle” (p. 68). Theirs is a bleak outlook on our modern society indeed.”

Surely, new technology can fix the problems old technology created? To the Huesemanns, counter-technologies such as geo-engineering schemes are like handing you another spade as you are digging your own grave—they come with their own unintended consequences. Furthermore, they write, efficiency gains (e.g. dematerialisation) have their limits and are often followed by increased consumption, a phenomenon known as the Jevons paradox. Ironically, despite increased affluence in the developed world, psychological research shows that happiness and well-being have not increased. Instead, we are stuck on a hedonic treadmill, furiously desiring ever more. The profit motive behind most technological developments results in solutions that benefit corporations and their shareholders, not the public at large.

Since these drawbacks are known, why does the belief in technological progress persist? The authors draw parallels between religious faith and techno-optimism, with the latter rising as the former waned. Furthermore, seemingly objective practices such as risk assessments and cost-benefit analyses are skewed towards continued technological development, downplaying or neglecting externalized costs. Finally, they take serious issue with the uncritical acceptance of new technologies due to the widespread belief that progress is inevitable and that technology is value-neutral, i.e. just a tool that can be used for good or evil.

Up to this point, much of what they write resonates with me, but I found their proposed solutions a mixed bag, strongly disagreeing with some of it. Since we cannot hex our way out of our problems with more technology, we need, I agree, a paradigm shift. They draw an interesting parallel with Kuhn’s book The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Just as scientific dogmas disappear not because minds are changed but because the old guard dies, future generations will change the way we live. Current generations will, by and large, be too set in their ways, too unwilling to give up their affluence. Plus, expect pushback from industries and corporations that stand to lose the most.

“To the Huesemanns, counter-technologies […] are like handing you another spade as you are digging your own grave—they come with their own unintended consequences.”

I think it should be stressed at this point that the Huesemanns are not technophobes advocating a return to the caves (although some of what they say is not far off). Technology has a role to play if it is employed more responsibly. To avoid stepping off the Seneca Cliff into wholesale collapse, they envision a transition to a steady-state economy that acknowledges planetary boundaries (some Planetary Accounting might help) and practises long-term sustainability.

The latter would require three things. First, 100% renewable energy generation. This, they admit, brings its own share of problems, one of which they remarkably do not even mention: the need for a vast infrastructure constructed from non-renewable materials. Speaking of which, second, we need to use renewable resources exclusively and phase out non-renewable resources, or fully recycle them where this is not possible. Other than the difficulties—if not impossibility—of finding replacements for most non-renewable resources (including basic ones such as all metals), they pass over the fact that materials cannot be endlessly recycled, requiring a constant input of virgin material. Third, waste can only be discharged at rates than can be assimilated by ecosystems, and those that cannot be biodegraded (read: most synthetic chemicals) should be discontinued. They acknowledge that, clearly, this would require a sea change in our attitudes: a society that embraces self-limitation rather than unfettered abundance. All of this is necessary, I agree, but it also seems almost unimaginable. If the COVID-19 pandemic has revealed one thing, it is how willingly people will relinquish liberties and accept restrictions imposed upon them.

There were a further three issues raised here that I mildly to strongly disagree with. First, they are justifiedly very critical of the corruption of medicine by the so-called medico-industrial complex, specifically pharmaceutical companies. Rather, we should focus on prevention and lifestyle changes (sure), accept the inevitability of death (agreed), and embrace holistic medicine (hmmm). Once they start talking of the power of placebo effects and the body’s innate ability to heal itself I become a bit uneasy. There is a kernel of truth in there but, in my opinion, you are at the top of the slide that reads “pseudoscience this way”. Second, they appear to contradict themselves by stressing the importance of efficiency in saving precious resources but also wanting things to go small-scale and local again, holding up organic agriculture as a shining example (something of which I am sceptical). You cannot have it both ways, we scale up production processes for more than just profitability. Third, they surprisingly really have it in for genetic engineering. Other than completely ignoring the pervasiveness of horizontal gene transfer (one could say nature invented genetic modification billions of years before we did), they are unwilling to acknowledge it will be one of the necessary tools to keep feeding the world, deal with the impact of climate change on crops, or that we can take the best of both approaches.

“the Huesemanns are not technophobes advocating a return to the caves (although some of what they say is not far off). Technology has a role to play if it is employed more responsibly.”

The Huesemanns acknowledge human overpopulation at several points: “More people generally translate into more problems” (p. 44) and unless “the size of the human population [is] stabilized and reduced, and the materialistic consumer lifestyle largely abandoned, there is little chance that our environmental problems will be solved” (p. 83). This is more than most authors do. Shame, then, that they do not dedicate a chapter to the thorny questions of whether we should control world population, what population size is optimal for the planet, and how many children to have (if any).

Instead, their last chapter felt to me like barking up the wrong tree. It calls for “critical science” (sensu Ravetz), which would stand in opposition to current scientific practice. Scientists need to take responsibility for their work, refuse dubious research financed by corporations, and abandon the excuse that they are not responsible for the end-uses. These are some really good points, but to put the onus almost completely on scientists struck me as, frankly, ridiculous. Some of their claims here really irked me. People choose this profession because of the relatively good income? Or the claim on page 329 that scientists and engineers do not really mind that problems are not solved as it guarantees their long-term employment? I normally hear a related version of that argument from climate-change deniers. I do not know what planet the authors live on, but my personal experience in academia showed me a world where you routinely work 60 to 80 hours a week on grant money or (if you are really lucky) a 40-hour contract while chasing short-term projects (known as PhD and postdoc positions) well into your forties before having a shot at a permanent position. When conditions are this exploitative it is no wonder many choose the job security and decent income offered by companies. If you want to keep scientists out of the clutches of well-paid corporate jobs and have them act as whistle-blowers you will have to properly reward and protect them, something only briefly acknowledged here.

In light of my criticism, would I recommend Techno-Fix? Yes, there is much I thoroughly agree with here. I applaud the authors for tabling controversial ideas and challenging readers with probing questions and assignments in an appendix. Furthermore, the book is thoroughly researched and annotated, very readable (including regular, useful summaries), and still relevant.

Techno-Fix

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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