Hope for the New Year.

The illo for “All the Songs”―assembled by me, actually, using elements courtesy of Liam Andrew and Dai Mar Tamarack.

Not too long ago—back before Covid took me out for the holidays— I attended the BUG’s latest fiction launch, sharing drinks with a horde of her fans and students from all walks of life. One such fan was a journalist, with whom the conversation turned to environmental apocalypse and the various ways it might yet be staved off. (This was only fitting: the BUG’s new novelette—“All the Songs”, in Fusion Fragment—is the most hauntingly beautiful celebration of Human extinction you’re ever likely to read.)

The journo had grave misgivings about my suggestion that, for starters, the lot of us could just stop breeding. If you’re only including the childless, she pointed out, you’re going to be having a very small conversation. One might argue that her own, somewhat more outwardly-directed solution— guillotine the plutocrats—suffers from similarly limited appeal. (Although maybe not. It’s hard to find fault, for example, with Luigi Mangione’s approach; since those ironically-named “health care” CEO’s clearly aren’t bothered by either the deaths they’ve caused or by next-of-kin tramping around with protest signs, it seems only systematic to test whether the prospect of ending up dead themselves might motivate a change in behavior.) In either case, it seems pretty clear that the time for conversations— small or large— has pretty much run its course. It’s all just talk.

Behold, the New Year:

The nuclear codes are about to move back from the hands of the doddering old fool into those of the stumbling demented tantrum-child. The Democrats— having repeatedly characterized Trump as a “fascist”—are now in the awkward position of enabling a “smooth transition” to said fascism because that is how the Great Democracies work.

Ukraine is fucked.

Gaza is even more fucked (not that this is much of a change from Genocide Joe’s regime, admittedly).

The chances of nuclear war are higher than they’ve been at any time since the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Most importantly (with the possible exception of the whole nuclear war thing), the environment is fucked. 2024 closed out as the hottest year not just in recorded history, but in the past 125,000 years. We’ve been consistently over 1.5°C for a solid year now, notwithstanding the Hope Police’s strident insistence that we really haven’t blown past that threshold until we’ve done it for a bunch more years. Carbon emissions continued to increase in 2024 (although I’m certain that they’ll start to come down once the Orange Imbecile puts his Drill Baby Drill policy into play).

Mix in the various plagues and pandemics still doing the rounds (even if most jurisdictions have stopped releasing data on such things because if you admit we’re still in the throes of a pandemic you might have to be seen to do something about it, and the The Economy won’t stand for another shutdown) or waiting in the wings; the S’Asian flash floods and the Mexican killer heat waves and the firestorms and droughts raging from California to Australia; the revelation that traditional carbon sinks such as the Amazon and the Arctic are now net carbon producers; and the ongoing catastrophic extinction rates of all those thousands of species we really don’t give a shit about because they sure as shit were never Made In God’s Image—put all that together and the year we just crawled out of was pretty much the worst ever.

And yet, looking forward to what’s coming this year, 2024 represents the last of The Good Old Days. We’re headed for 2.7-3.1°C by century’s end if current trends continue. Current trends will not continue, of course. As of January 20th, they’re going to get a lot worse.

If any of you can find any legitimate good news in the face of all this—and I’m talking about reasonable cause for hope here, not some feel-good story about rescued hedgehogs or found cats—by all means let me know. Don’t bother mentioning the plummeting cost and improving economics of renewable energy[1], though, unless you include strategies that don’t turn the planet into a moonscape from mining the requisite minerals. (Apparently it would take half the world’s current lithium production and twice the world’s current cobalt production just to electrify the UK grid. Now scale that up to the rest of the planet). Don’t feed me fairy tales about giant pie plates in the sky, designed to reduce solar input without requiring anyone to give up their super-yachts or private jets. In fact, don’t talk about any technological fix that won’t fall instantly afoul of Jevon’s Paradox, that will be sold as a way to Buy Time To Save The World but really end up as just another excuse to do fuck-all. Talk to me about behavioral solutions. Give me hope by showing me evidence that Humanity can change its nature.

Because honestly, the only hope I have now can be found in the fact that the Earth has already endured five major extinction events— and that new, gloriously-diverse biospheres have always evolved in their wake. It may take twenty million years after we’re gone, but the Earth will shake off this disease. It will recover.

The only hope I have is that the biosphere will survive long enough for us to go extinct.

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1. Which, fun fact, still hasn’t put a dent on fossil energy production, instead merely adding to it. ↑