The perilous state of our natural world is
enough to induce anxiety and distress in all
but those who refuse to see.
From climate change, worsening weather events,
water and food shortages, shrinking glaciers
and rising sea levels, to disease epidemics
and the poisoning of the water, soil, air
and even ourselves, we have good reason to
be anxious about the near future.
With an eye on the human condition, this is Insight.
Bill McKibben is an author well known for
his concern about climate change
and other environmental threats.
I first met him about 30 years ago in upstate New York.
We sat down for a video interview near Bard College, where he was teaching a summer course in journalism.
He’d just published The End of Nature, explaining
the effect greenhouse gases were having
on the atmosphere.
When recently asked what we’ve achieved
in the intervening years to reduce that impact,
he replied, “We’ve pretty much wasted them.”
Three decades later, the effects of climate
change have intensified.
His new book is titled Falter, suggesting
that humanity has begun to play out
its own end game.
In 1988, climate scientist James Hansen testified
before the US Congress.
He was among the first to openly warn about
global warming and the so-called greenhouse effect.
As he continued his research, Hansen concluded
that carbon dioxide in the atmosphere had
to be less than 350 parts per million to be safe.
Current estimates tell us we’ve already
exceeded 400 parts per million.
Renowned naturalist Sir David Attenborough
gave this warning:
“Right now, we’re facing a man-made disaster of 
global scale—
our greatest threat in thousands of years: 
climate change.
If we don’t take action, the collapse of
our civilizations and the extinction
of much of the natural world is on the horizon.”
All of this creates understandable anxiety
about the future.
In fact, some psychologists are noticing a
rise in the number of people in the US and
the UK who are worrying about the impacts
of climate change.
It’s known as ecoanxiety, defined by the
American Psychological Association as “a
chronic fear of environmental doom.”
According to a BBC report, an increasing number
of young people are reporting a troubled mental
state as they think about the growing climate
crisis and what it will mean for themselves
and future generations.
“When big ecological disasters happen around the world, I feel a sense of anxiety; I feel a sense of sadness
and get a sense of loss.” [BBC, "Are You Suffering From Climate Change Anxiety?" (March 19, 2019)]
Ecoanxiety is clearly part of  
a larger concern about the environment.
And there’s every reason to be worried.
It’s led some to ask why we selfishly persist
in foreclosing on the future.
Why should the cost and impact of present
approaches to the environment be left for
future generations to resolve?
There’s something perverse about imposing
a destroyed and dangerous world on our own offspring.
Why would we do that?
Philosopher Roman Krznaric writes, “We treat
the future like a distant colonial outpost
devoid of people, where we can freely dump
ecological degradation, technological risk,
nuclear waste and public debt, and that we
feel at liberty to plunder as we please.”
Destroying the future of our children is a
negation of a fundamental unwritten law of
human life on this earth: ensuring the continuity
of family and society.
It used to be that our children were the future.
Now we can’t be so sure.
This kind of existential risk is one of the
concerns of Cambridge University’s Martin Rees,
cosmologist and Astronomer Royal.
In a Vision interview, he noted that politicians
are interested primarily in what is in their
daily e-mail inbox, and that they’re trapped
by short election cycles.
This results in what is known as short-termism—thinking
only of the present and near-term and failing
to focus on long-term problems.
Writing about the difficulty of finding policy
solutions to today’s existential threats,
Rees says, “only an enlightened despot could
push through the measures needed to navigate
the 21st century safely.”
While many around the world seem in favor
of strongmen, believing that they hold the
answer to every problem, it’s important to note the word “enlightened” in Rees’s prescription.
So far we’ve seen neither democratic governments
nor despots deliver the answers we need.
In fact, many politicians and most strongmen
pursue the very policies that make matters worse.
It may prove to be an impossible task to make
the great U-turn needed.
Despite creative solutions, including curtailing
deforestation and changes in renewable energy
and even diet, we may yet fail.
Neil Postman said it this way: “People in
distress will sometimes prefer a problem that
is familiar to a solution that is not.”
Inertia and self-delusion could upend all
of the hopeful solutions.
But even with that said, should we be overcome
by “chronic fear of environmental doom”?
Is there reason for hope anywhere else?
The ultimate expression of existential risk
is found in a statement made 2,000 years ago.
It shows that despite a threat so great that
it could destroy all human life, there will
be an intervention that guarantees human survival.
It says, “There will be great distress,
unequaled from the beginning of the world
until now—and never to be equaled again.
If those days had not been cut short, no one
would survive, but for the sake of the elect
those days will be shortened” (Matthew 24:21–22).
No one else has been able to make that promise.
It’s part of the legacy of Jesus Christ
recorded in the Gospel of Matthew.
He’s the one who will intervene to prevent
human annihilation
and bring beneficent rule to human society.
He’s described as ruling with ultimate authority
that will deliver justice and equity,
peace and equality, security and, yes, even environmental renewal.
And that is the ultimate solution.
In the meantime, are there things we can do
on the individual level to alleviate ecoanxiety?
If you’d like to know more, search keyword
“change” at vision.org.
For Insight, I'm David Hulme.
