At Work in the Ruins: Finding Our Place in the Time of Climate Crises and Other Emergencies

by Dougald Hine

'One of the most perceptive and thought-provoking books yet written about the multiple intersecting crises that are now upending our once-familiar world. . . Essential reading for these turbulent times.' Amitav Ghosh, author of The Great Derangement



'Hine’s brilliant book demands we stare into that abyss and rethink our securest certainties about what is actually going on in the climate crisis. It’s lucidly unsettling and yet in the end empowering. There is something we can do, and it starts with where we look, how we see and what we choose to change.’ Brian Eno, Musician



Dougald Hine, author and social thinker, has spent most of his life talking to people about climate change. And then one afternoon in the second year of the pandemic, he found he had nothing left to say.



Why would someone who cares so deeply about ecological destruction want to stop talking about climate change now? At Work in the Ruins explores that question.



“Climate change asks us questions that climate science cannot answer,” Hine says. Questions like, how did we end up in this mess? Is it just a piece of bad luck with the atmospheric chemistry—or is it the result of a way of approaching the world that would always have brought us to such a pass?



How we answer such questions has consequences.  According to Hine, our answers shape our understanding and our thinking about what kind of problem we think we’re dealing with and, therefore, what kind of responses we go looking for. “But when science is turned into an object of belief and a source of overriding authority,” Hine continues, “it becomes hard even to talk about the questions that it cannot answer.”



In eloquent, deeply researched prose, Hine demonstrates how our over-reliance on the single lens of science has blinded us to the nature of the crises around and ahead of us, leading to ‘solutions’ that can only make things worse. At Work in the Ruins is his reckoning with the strange years we have been living through and our long history of asking too much of science. It’s also about how we find our bearings and what kind of tasks are worth giving our lives to, given all we know or have good grounds to fear about the trouble the world is in.



For anyone who has found themselves needing to make sense of the COVID time and how we talk about it, At Work in the Ruins offers guidance by standing firmly forward and facing the depth of the trouble we are in. Hine, ultimately, helps us find the work that is worth doing, even in the ruins.



'A book of rare originality and depth—profound, far-reaching, mind-altering stuff.' Helen Jukes, author of A Honeybee Heart has Five Openings

Genres: Nonfiction, Philosophy, Politics, Environment, Climate Change, Sociology, Cultural

218 pages, Kindle Edition

Published February 9, 2023

Reviews

[Philip Shade · Rating 2 out of 5]

I would like to have rated At Work in the Ruins higher but the authors consistent, ideological, minimization of COVID-19 and it's effects really undermined what I thought were some good philosophical approaches to viewing climate change and other upheavals.

Overall I agree with Dougland Hine's perspective that people should look beyond raw statistics and a religious-like deference to science as the beginning and end of conversations on how to deal with major social and environmental changes. Unfortunately he repeatedly ignores his own advice when it comes to COVID-19. Hine repeatedly cites statistics alone to back up his assertion that any state sponsored intervention to slow the spread of COVID is authoritarianism and to be resisted at all costs. He argues, based solely on statistics, that it's mostly older people and people with health conditions who die and therefore not worth saving is cold at best and eugenics at worst. Only once in the entire book does he even mention Long COVID and even then it's only as an anecdotal "well that's too bad" sort of thing.

I feel that repeatedly coming back to attack COVID preventions as authoritarian while ignoring the real world effects of the pandemic on the most vulnerable communities is the exact opposite of his approach to climate change where he cites indigenous knowledge and community level input as a place to look for different avenues forward.

Based on the cover alone, which might be my fault, I had really hoped to come through this book with new, somewhat hopeful, ways to consider and handle living in a world where, frankly out of greed, most of our major institutions are failing us. I think ini the case of climate change, his specialty, Hine achieves that. Unfortunately, he is far less successful in the other areas he touches.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

A unique (and in some ways, well, strange) and no doubt controversial, but immensely thought-provoking book, chock full of ideas and sublime riffs (which I am confident that I will use in the future, with attribution, of course), but, in the end, maybe more of a catharsis than a manifesto (particularly to the extent the author (who seems like a fascinating individual) has previously dabbled in manifestos).

If the degrowth agenda speaks to you, my gut says this will resonate. Having said that, in terms of economic-oriented literature, I find Raworth's Doughnut Economics more compelling (and persuasive). Nonetheless, the author does a wonderful job, deploying a wide range of anecdotes and sources, to make innumerable persuasive and important points (even if they're uncomfortable to read or swallow). For example:

[F]or all the talk of a green recovery and building back better, the grown-ups are still failing the [Greta] Thunberg test [for whether the grown-ups have really started to take climate change seriously: have the emissions started to fall? So long as they go on rising, anything else is just Blah, blah, blah.] ... Optimism comes in the form of a billionaire's wish list of technologies that don't yet exist....

As someone who vacillates wildly in the (seemingly escalating) debate between the climate change hopers and doomers - not just in my head, but in my daily interactions, as well as my public advocacy - the lion's share of this fell squarely in my wheelhouse, trapped between, on the one hand: I expect I'll be fine, but I'm despondent over the world I'll leave to my (now adult) kids and (maybe, someday) their kids ... and, on the other hand ... still, it's way too early to give up hope, and there is good to be found in incremental progress, even if the worst (self-interested) segments of the private sector (think extractive industries, automobile manufacturers, disposable consumer product generators, etc.) and our governments and our elites aren't taking climate change seriously, ... well, this added nuance to the debate, but didn't move the needle very far, in either direction, at least for me.

For better or worse, I have dozens of riffs highlighted (which, as noted above, I'll come back to in other venues), but I'll offer just one more here as a litmus test. If it makes you pause ... and think ... it's probably worth reading the book. If not, well, I'll leave it at that.

[I]t is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of the world as we know it. [Okay, the more I read that ... and now, having typed it, the more I like it.] The hard part is to imagine still being here, to imagine lives worth living among the ruins of what we thought we knew, who we thought we were and where we thought the world was headed.

Exactly. And therein lies the rub.

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not sure I have ever felt more alienated in my life than I have since October 7th. I go to work, I worry constantly (understatement) about my family in Palestine, I throw up, I go back to work and chirp my customer service role, chirp chirp barf chirp chirp barf. My neighbor slips me a note complaining about my cat, who's a bruiser. Who knew? The cats got into a fight. It's a big deal. I'm supposed to call them to discuss it. An email: 2,900 children in Gaza dead in <3 weeks. But the cat is inappropriate, isn't it, it's scaring the other cat. Chirp chirp barf chirp chirp barf. My husband doesn't sleep, it's like his eyes are stapled open. We sit side by side and barely speak. I call my representatives. Why won't you demand a ceasefire? I ask. If you won't call for one, then tell me why you support this specifically, tell me what these dead children are doing for you. Chirp barf click and a dial tone.

It's in this most attenuated, extraordinary state of alienation that I can finally encounter these kind of texts, which say things I would not have been able to hear even a month ago. Because I would have allowed myself to be shocked by certain words or notions, I wouldn't listen long enough, I would have smushed them into one of two buckets in my mind, buckets that have been made fixed and permanent by the internet's sorting of people and things in such a small little box that only looks big for its infinite scrolling, but is actually kind of all the same? Like the wall of crackers at the grocery store, so diverse, appealing to so many generations and voting tendencies, millennial pink and lumberjack red, but they're all made by the same few companies, and they're all crackers anyways. All the puns, always intended.

So, should you read this? I have no idea. But it's one among many books I crave right now as I try to relocate reality in the dark.

[Kendrick]

“As the Nishnaabeg writer Leanne Betasamosake Simpson told Naomi Klein: ‘It’s been the end of the world for somebody all along.’”

“Is it really the case that people don’t have enough information about climate change? Or is it that we struggle to make sense of what this information means, to fit it into the frames we use to make sense of our lives?”

Hine says, “I write for anyone who has found themselves as I have, needing to make sense of what is ending, how we can talk about it and what tasks are worth taking on in whatever time it turns out that we have.”

As someone who works daily on the real world impacts of climate change, I found this book refreshing. All too often I get one or three reactions from people when I talk about climate change with them: 1) pure denial; 2) an “oh, we’ll fix that no problem” type of denial which also masquerades as a “So thankful for people like you to solve that problem!” response; or 3) We’re doomed. The second one has lately been the most annoying to me. Fortunately, the book gets deeper than seeing climate change as simply a problem that can solved with engineering and science, and it cuts to the cultural aspects that are partly responsible for the predicament in which we find ourselves.

The world as we know it is ending, but we can take the good parts with us forward into the future while discarding the undesirable parts. Climate change is a result of stories we’ve told ourselves that are no longer useful—it’s part of a much larger tapestry for what modernity has meant for people globally. It will be hard work to transform our world, but we have to first acknowledge the situation honestly. And we have to find the balance between realizing what questions science can answer and where we should not place “faith” in science but rather apply judgment

[Inma · Rating 4 out of 5]

An invitational conversation for everyone who still believes in modernity

For those who have passed that threshold toward what Dougald Hine calls the small path, like me, this book shows how not-being-coherent is part of the journey. How our generation might have to learn to live in two worlds, one dying, the other one in embryonic movement which, as a friend of mine told me recently, has the past in the frontpack, and the future in the backpack. Also to remind us that we will not be there to see the forest world, but that we can imagine it and gift the fruits of that imagining to those after us. There are parts of the book that are incoherently expressed, there is also some lack of perspectives, but I didn’t come to read it expecting anything else more than a journey, and as a fellow pilgrim, I recognise the value in it.

[Paul Winkeler · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author makes his point that science alone will not be capable of addressing the predicament that our global lifestyle has created in the form of climate change. However this point is buried in a mountain of language that might be familiar to activists, sociologists and professional philosophers to where most people have to read very deeply between the lines to get his point.
In the end I like to think I was able to take something useful from this book in terms of thinking about my personal approach to climate change, its causes as well as its effects. But I am still struggling to find my own words to express it.

[Disa Jakobsdottir · Rating 5 out of 5]

changed my life…….

[Ward Stahmer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Spend a day with Dougald Hine. You will not regret it and you will be the better and wiser because of it.

I began following this thoughtful and perceptive individual sometime after he co-authored the Dark Mountain Manifesto, “a journey to the far side of despair,” with his fellow writer, Paul Kingsnorth. I long considered him to be the junior partner in this literary endeavor but with the publication of this book that position is harder to maintain. During the pandemic, I participated in his initial Zoom podcast series, A Place Called HOME, from his then new residence in Sweden. I subsequently become an avid listener of his excellent podcast with Ed Gillespie, aptly titled The Great Humbling.

Dougald is a gifted writer and a wonderful storyteller. For those without a previous knowledge of him and his work, this deeply personal book covers the past fifteen years of his intellectual journey of discovery. I still managed to learn a number of things; chiefly his relationship with Jem Bendell prior to the latter’s publication of The Deep Adaptation Manifesto.

The predictable Editorial Reviews are from his friends and colleagues. I couldn’t help but feel that this book was, in a large part, written for and to them, two thirds of whom receive favorable mentions in the book. Unfortunately, their uncritical responses did not serve him especially well. This book deals largely with science, which is rather surprising considering the author’s background in the arts. He begins by stating that his role “has been to come in at the place where the work of science runs out.” This extraordinarily breathtaking task does not seem to daunt him in the least. But the only sciences that are ever mentioned are climate science and the science pertaining to Covid-19. The author is extraordinarily well read and certainly knows better. He even acknowledges, “There can be a danger in allowing that trouble to be defined solely in terms of climate change.” Someone should have told him to significantly broaden the discussion of science to better support and contextualize his narrative. Alas, his consideration of science is primarily with a straw man of his own devising.

He seeks to consider “how we came to be in the trouble we are in,” which is never seriously pursued, and concludes that this is a question “that climate science cannot answer on its own.” But who ever maintained otherwise? As important as the climate crisis and most recent pandemic are to understanding our present precarious situation, they are far from being the only drivers. Climate science, although frequently cited, is never analyzed in any meaningful depth. How is it possible to not even once mention its underlying cause: ecological overshoot? It is but one of the nine planetary boundaries that industrial civilization is relentlessly and recklessly transgressing and to which the author devotes but a single sentence. One would at least expect biodiversity loss and extinctions to get a passing nod but this book is totally human-centered.

I keep searching for a charitable reason why the author would direct his only specific criticism of climate science at his fellow non-scientist, Jem Bendell. The latter’s Deep Adaptation paper “that flew around the world” received some criticism from climate scientists regarding Bendell’s methodology in the selection of a couple of sources as well as the credibility of those sources themselves. Hine approvingly sides with the critics. Both Peter Wadhams and Guy McPherson are prominent emeritus professors who previously made unfortunate and incorrect predictions. The issues involve the rate of Arctic sea ice melting and methane emissions along with tipping points and their consequences, one of which is the end of civilization. I happen to think that Bendell’s timeline for the latter is premature. But the fact that subsequent studies and events are largely negating the earlier criticisms goes unmentioned by Hine. Refer to Robert Hunziker’s February 10, 2023 CounterPunch article. Not surprisingly, Bendell is notable for his absence among the Editorial Reviewers. The book also singles out Roger Hallam of Extinction Rebellion for claiming, “that 4.7 degrees of warming are already locked in.” James Hansen, probably the world’s most eminent climatologist, is now projecting 6 to 10 degrees C. in his 2022 paper, Global Warming in the Pipeline.

Near the beginning, Dougald rightly calls attention to the critical distinction between problems and predicaments. The former have potential solutions and the latter do not. Then this intractable dilemma is largely dropped from the remainder of the book. The fundamental physics of the unsustainable enterprise of our present dominant civilization could have been easily presented, as the physicist Thomas Murphy does in his devastating and equally personal critique, Energy and Human Ambitions on a Finite Planet (available to download for free online). The impossibility of green growth and environmental engineering is appropriately noted but would have been immeasurably reinforced by referencing the work of Simon Micheaux at the neighboring Geological Survey of Finland. Systems science and ecology are likewise absent, apart from the requisite mention of Robin Wall Kimmerer, which could have been rectified by citing the comprehensive work of Nate Hagens, among innumerable others, who has recently been called upon to testify in Scandinavia.

Perhaps most egregiously of all, Dougald’s presentation is completely energy blind. The valuable contributions of Vaclav Smil, Arthur Berman, and Alice Friedemann readily come to mind. Climate chaos may well bring industrial civilization to its knees but when the EROI of extracting fossil fuels inevitably turns negative it will be lights out in more ways than one.

The infection and mortality rates of Covid-19 are acknowledged to be relatively low in comparison to worse case scenarios and a large portion of the book deals with the pandemic, which is really just a statistical blip in the overall trajectory of the Anthropocene. Dougald is conflicted regarding the divergent strategies followed by Great Britain and Sweden and he eventually comes down squarely in the middle of the debate. The Covid-19 science of which he is critical is really just the often irrational social and psychological responses and he never delves into the specifics of virology, immunology, or epidemiology. Other existential threats to humanity get short shrift and nuclear annihilation deserves no consideration. Is any author unwilling to once mention the human population dilemma completely serious?

Dougald is fundamentally an artist and states that the “job” of artists “is to complicate matters.” This inevitably and predictably leads to “gathering around a campfire, somewhere off to the side of the big path, where stories are being shared.” The initial one involves “the thought that there is really no such thing as science.” The second “tells of what tends to happen when activity that carries the authority of science encounters other activities through which people come to know the world.” The final story “has to do with a specific kind of knowledge which science lacks.”

As a thought experiment, imagine a number of scientists gathered around a Bunsen burner in a research lab telling their stories. The first is that there is no such thing as art. The second is about what happens when art, which may or may not have any mass, is analyzed by a mass spectrometer. The third deals with why aesthetics does not have the precision of quantum field theory. They especially single out poetry for criticism but without having recited a single poem. Theology is a discipline without a subject. I never cared for the late paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould’s classification of religion and science as “non-competing magisteria.” But this is precisely the kind of distinction that should have been expected from this author regarding art and science.

It is doubtful that Dougald Hine’s work in this book will impress actual scientists. It is certain to deeply and profoundly resonate with the majority of other readers. Let us all hope that the author follows this up by returning once again to the ruins, to make further sense of the world that is ending, and to offer insightful glimpses into what lies ahead.

[Kevin Mcgeary · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a 2012 essay titled ‘Dumbing Down’, author and educator Jeremy Fox lamented that intellectuals have a more marginal role in society compared to in the 1960s. While UK prime minister Harold Wilson employed C.P. Snow, figures like Bertrand Russell and J.B Priestley were listened to and feared by the media and political establishment. Today’s culture has created a barrier between the ‘serious’ and the ‘popular’, according to Fox.

Coming from a different angle, a 2009 essay by journalist and activist Chris Hedges argued that elite universities are churning out graduates who are ‘illiterate’ in terms of their ability to recognise the relationship between power and morality. Hedges writes ‘The elite universities disdain honest intellectual inquiry, which is by its very nature distrustful of authority, fiercely independent, and often subversive’.

The author of ‘At Work in the Ruins’ can fairly be described as an intellectual, with a degree from Oxford, and coming from a highly literate family. This background is both a strength and a weakness when it comes to communicating with the mainstream.

Using history, memoir, polemic, and a lifetime of reading and conversations, the book is a meandering exploration of the predicament humanity faces. It laments how societies and their institutions are ill-equipped to deal with the coming collapse.

In Chapter 1, ‘Talking about Climate Change’, Hine cites his experience as a young BBC journalist hearing ‘ambitious young colleagues talk smoothly about how we should always put climate sceptics on air’ alongside the scientists to provide balance. This approach has stalled policy-making and public opinion disastrously.

Illuminating passages include: “Part of what it means to be born into these times is that the music of your life will be threaded against a deep background roar of loss,” and the observation “all life feeds on death.”

He expands on the latter claim with a critique of modern prosperity: “The fossil economy breaks the possibility of such a cycle. How many million years of dying in the forests and seas of the ancient world go into one generation of living the way we have been doing around here lately? How could our lives ever be worthy of so much death? What could we possibly give back? And what would giving back even mean, when all that dying happened in the deep past of geological time.”

I knew the author during his BBC days, when I was at an even more formative stage of life. Back then, I had a sort of Daily Mail inspired understanding of how the country was going to the dogs. Dougald Hine calmly articulated things that had me moving my arms around in exasperation. Many others have said the same.

The role of ‘intellectual rock star’, as Hine describes one of his heroes Ivan Illich as having, may no longer exist, but ‘At Work in the Ruins’ is a successful addition to the climate conversation.

[Cala Camille · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you are also a critical thinking conservation biologist with a background in social justice activism work as well as international fringe permaculture/spiritual/free-thinking communities, who has studied/worked in climate change, sustainability, and natural resource management for the past 10 years, you may only find a couple of new ideas in this book. But I’m guessing most people are not that, and it’s the majority that really needs to hear what Dougald has to say. Especially if you are a hardline materialist leftist, technocrat elitist, or enjoy denying your mortality either straight-up or by the completion of “legacy” projects.

Hine demonstrates his journalistic prowess and deep consideration while exploring a wide range of views about today’s most pressing issues. Although he can come off as a little self-absorbed at times, his his ideas and anecdotes about complex topics highly accessible . He reveals that the work that needs to be done in the ruins of modern society is less about the outcome that is achieved and more about the process of letting go and starting fresh. His ideas are strongly influenced by the likes of Ivan Illich, Vanessa Machado De Oliveira, and the grassroots postmodernist movement. While he does not have a silver bullet solution to all our issues he offers some perspective and I’m sure most readers will have a lot to gain from this book.

If you’re concerned about the future of human life, I’d suggest reading this book.

[Daniel Fridgren · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book made me think a lot. To me, this writing relates to the thoughts brought forth by Jonna Bornemark in “The Renaissance of the Unmeasurable”: the way we tend to look at (and act on) the world through the lens of science remotes us from a type of essential knowledge that we can never grasp through scientific inquiry alone.

In our objectification of the world, and the way we tend to create a distinction between human beings and nature, we create a world view where other life forms are just cogs in the big machine we call Earth. In terms of what Iain McGhilcrist lays out eminently in his books, this is the “left hemisphere world” we tend to create and adhere to today.

It is with this world view as a lens that “the grown-ups in the room” (as Dougald calls them) provides their view on what to do about our climate problems and predicaments: Everything gravitates towards techno-optimistic solutions with humans in the center.

And when science is turned into an overriding authority, it gets hard to challenge the scientific world view, and talk about the questions that science alone cannot answer. Questions that may be vital to understanding how we got here, and where we are going.

“The way we talk about this trouble is making everything worse. The mobilisation of fear and the language of emergency, the elevation of science into an article of faith and an overriding source of political authority–even when the intentions are good, even when the sense of urgency is sincere and well-founded, these moves push forward the project of making this living planet and its inhabitants into an object of technological management and control.”

[Ciara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chugged this one, finished it in 3 sittings. I find it to be honest without being too doomerific. Attributing our polycrisis to modernity rather than trying to talk about green growth or any of that. Lots of references made to the work and writing of others, and lots of skillful description of elements of the climate change convo that I have struggled to put into words. It's given me some new ideas about how to talk to people about these things and possibly build some bridges.

Didn't love the downplaying of Covid's seriousness as an illness since I've personally experienced long Covid. But I've got to agree with a lot of the tangential points made about authoritarianism and science as a belief system decoupled from feeling or emotions.

One of the best parts of this book is the strong point made that the people who are "in charge" have no idea what they're doing and live lives entirely divorced from reality. The language we use to talk about climate change has been co-opted.

The word "sustainable" could be used to talk about people who want to live a relatively simple life within planetary boundaries. It could also be used to talk about a technocrat who wants to tax us to fund carbon capture technology that doesn't even work efficiently yet so that they can lower their emissions on paper so that they can drill for more oil or mine more cobalt.

We definitely have to start changing tactics when talking about what's going on w/ the planet.

[Maria Longley · Rating 4 out of 5]

What would make a climate activist stop speaking about climate change? Several reasonable things it would seem! Douglad Hine takes us through his process of being a climate change activist, sensing something else and starting to speak about Dark Mountain (which is where I first came across him), and getting to the point where this is no longer a fruitful starting point for questions and conversations. Isn't that quite a crazy point to reach? Yes and no, and there is much to think about in terms of composting what is no longer useful. He makes a compelling argument about the fact that we are actually at the end of modernity and now is the useful time to look to what is good and useful to carry with us to the next stage, and what should and must be left behind.

Parts of the book were a little tricky as he is continuing a conversation that I have not been a part of and so that was a little odd (and not always all that interesting either). But if you do get a chance to hear him speak Douglad Hine has a wealth of stories he carries with him to bring to conversations, and I do follow his substack as well and I think there have been some great sparks coming from people interacting with this book/topic. I came to this book because of these conversations. I like the question about what are the upstream questions from science. He also does a good job in getting me curious to read some other books:) Vanessa Machado de Oliveira's for one...

[Tamara · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The end of the world as we know it is not the end of the world, full stop. [...]
The end of the world as we know it is also the end of a way of knowing the world."

This book takes some much needed altitude to look at climate change and more broadly the discourse on science and our ideas of modernity, progress, and the paths of #climateaction. This will be an uncomfortable point for many: the dominant path is clearly tech-oriented, aiming to engineer the "fish tank" (reference to simplified visons of the world or models we think can be managed) but fails to question our way of knowing the world, having led it where we are today.

What if climate change was not the problem but "an especially alarming symptom of an underlying condition"? What if our technocratic paradigm leads us to falsely simplify problems - reducing the environmental crisis for instance to a value in ppm and a projection of temperature raise?

This is an important and thought-provoking read. It is what I needed, right now. I must say however that I was very triggered by its narrative around the pandemic - in hindsight, I think it was useful, however as much as the rest was thought-provoking and insightful, that narrative walked a dangerous line, with insufficient nuance and precautions.

[Jay Storey · Rating 4 out of 5]

A sobering assessment of the state of the world, especially concerning climate change, and some of the other challenges we face. I found it a bit convoluted and unfocused, and it seemed to get bogged down in the supposed relationship between the COVID response and the response to the climate change.

One point I believe he made, which I unfortunately have to agree with, is that our civilization is headed for a major collapse, and that we're basically powerless to stop it. All the protests and other attempts to raise public awareness are directed at people who cannot (or will not) grasp the problem.

I love his line: "The end of the world as we know it is not the end of the world."

We can't look to our current leaders and institutions to save us from the catastrophic challenges we face. They are too invested in the status quo, and are basically part of the problem. So who can we turn to? That's a good question, and one I don't think he really answers, and that I can't answer. Hine's premise, which I also have to agree with, is that all we can do is try to put together strategies for lessening the blow when that collapse occurs.

Maybe something worthwhile can be built from the ruins that remain.

[Jakob · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed the poetry of the language and it made me think about our modern age "modernity".

Many arguments did not seem solid to me. For instance, the recurring - "we should not focus on science anymore, but action". Coming from someone with a conviction but without a scientific background (I think? might be wrong) this seems bold. Should others with other claims take the same approach? Stopping the scientific conversation when a social consensus is reached in a chunk of the population.

His thoughts on covid were interesting to read in contrast with climate thinking. Got a lot of space in the book though, probably too much.

The jump to "the ruins" in the form of post-modernity farming felt abrupt, coming after long meanderings about covid and his climate journey.

Would I recommend it? It was in ways a poetic and beautifully written book, and it left me with some thoughts. I would suspect though there are more focused and well founded books out there if you are after thinking more about climate and modernity.

[Brian Hutzell · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m not sure I can say I enjoyed this book, but that’s not surprising given the subject matter. Dougald Hine focuses on Covid and climate change in this gadfly’s take on our approach to both. Both sides of the political spectrum will find plenty to upset them here, and that is at least in part intentional. Hine believes we are approaching our modern problems incorrectly, making two classic mistakes: (1) Trying the same things repeatedly yet expecting different results, and (2) Hoping that the very things that caused our problems will now solve them. He offers far more questions than answers, but you will absolutely not close this book without being bothered more than a little by his questions. Hine’s writing at times is poetic to the point of sacrificing clarity, but I would not hesitate to read him again.

[Luke · Rating 3 out of 5]

A challenge, a surrender. Climate change advocate becomes disenchanted with the "believe the science" dogmatic and othering polarization, wants to withdraw into a more contested, other-ways-of-knowing, art's-more-than-a-message-deliverer, science-is-also-what-got-us-here. BUT global covid response was his limit: we should be more accepting of death, too much of the book is his fears of the authoritarian-science alignment of vaccine mandates and none of the book considers the anti-science factions his discomforts are in dialog against. Another path is ahead, and he's humble in not having answers to what that is or where it goes, instead like Hospicing Modernity asks us to sit with the discomfort. Indeed.

[Leanne Hunt · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent and thoughtful response to the ever-growing threat of climate change. Hine reads the audio version of the book himself, which gives it a memoir-like feel and. The subject matter is sombre but the message is strangely comforting. We are alive at an extraordinary time in the history of the world and therefore bear the responsibility and privilege of making meaning out of what has gone before, in order that those who come after us may know our dreams, desires, fatal errors and hard-won insights.

[B · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I could fill a book with clues, places to start looking for those paths, yet no suggestion I make is likely to satisfy those looking for a plan for a highway. If the big path is paved by the planners, the converse of this is the absolute pessimism that tends to overcome these people when they let themselves consider the possibility that no plan will get us out of the trouble we are in."

That's it. That's the tweet and the book. We have to make up our minds ourselves first and move outward into a collective, if at all possible.

[Maxwell Maynard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully written, paradigm shifting book. Lots to chew on in here and I look forward to digesting it over the next weeks months and years.

Clarified some of my own feelings about what is important work to be doing at this time (therefore following through on the promise of the title), and also gave me a more nuanced perspective to talk about climate change than I had before. Or to not talk about it. ;)

[Liz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read on the recommendation of someone close to me. I found this really interesting in places - some good thoughts around the climate change conversation and musings on the pandemic responses. There were times where I struggled to stay engaged, but overall it has encouraged me to see what I can do to prepare for the future, however that may look (mainly plant a vege garden!)

[Greg · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’m not sure what this book is supposed to be. It questions the status quo, but doesn’t provide solutions. It distorts history and generalizes analysis to fit a narrative. And the author leaves us with questions where the answers should be. I truly do not understand the point of this book and why it was written.

[Yates Buckley · Rating 5 out of 5]

An unusual text with an important view on climate: ultimately all discussion of boundaries offer the potential view of being seen as “acceptable” limits of industrial exploitation.

We need to think of a world beyond, adapting as we can.

[Jeff Harper · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a different look at climate change. Don't look for happy endings here - the story isn't finished yet. Great clarity on the situation we are in, and where the big path might end and others might emerge.

[Brian Murphy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bleak, sometimes oppressively. But Hine opened up my mind to some ways of thinking about modernity and the anthropocene that I'd never considered. A truly amazing piece of work. I've purchased the latest edition of Dark Mountain and look forward to experiencing it next.

[Helen Palmer · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is not an easy read but so important. I feel
Like I have had the wool pulled away from my eyes. It is frightening but also hopeful and inspiring.

[Angela Natividad · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thick, nourishing and sometimes hard to swallow, like bread.

[Kelly Dombroski · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thoughtful, well researched and right in point for contemporary activists.

[Manoli Moustakos · Rating 2 out of 5]

A depressing novel that I would never read but school!