What I remember about Dan Wildcat is seeing him regularly at the Western Social Sciences Association annual conferences. He was part of a coterie of small-time academics which fancied itself Vine Deloria Jr's proteges. A congenial and earnest bunch, which published little of consequence, but whose presence always made these meetings a pleasant experience. Despite the seriousness of Wildcat's topic in 'Red Alert', as I read I immediately heard his twangy Oklahoma accent and thought of those long ago meetings in Denver and Albuquerque.
At a brisk 139-pages, 'Red Alert' reads like classroom lectures edited into short book chapters, in which "Indigenous knowledge" is regarded as an antidote to a world suffering from fossil fuels, climate change, and an out-of-touch humanity, whose connection to nature is filtered through technology. To his credit, Wildcat acknowledges that Indigenous people, while being keepers of ancestral knowledge, are nevertheless enduring their own form of disconnectedness due to generations of colonization. As testament to their resiliency, Indigenous teachings about the earth are still extent in many Indigenous communities. In which case, the crisis inflicted by climate change may be the most compelling reason of all to enable Indigenous people to revitalize these teachings.
What is missing from 'Red Alert', alas, are substantial references to these teachings. Conspicuously missing is any reference to Mvskoke teachings, which is Wildcat's tradition. Although it is commonplace for Indigenous people to regard their people's teachings as being only for them, this does not preclude them from sharing stories, customs, values, and wisdom when it comes to protecting sacred places, children and elders, and treaty rights. Indigenous people do not proselytize, yet they can educate outsiders--to an extent--about "how they do things here." Wildcat does not seem to have any of these teachings to share with his reader.
Wildcat's anecdotes seem to consist of fondly remembered students, colleagues, and persons he met at conferences. Wildcat is especially anxious to let you know that he knew Vine, calling him a friend and mentor. Vine's influence notwithstanding, Wildcat does not seem adequately aware of his intellectual community, let alone what he thinks he is contributing to his academic field. As such, 'Red Alert' is long on platitudes and rhetoric, but short on insightful references. Where are the references, for example, to Winona Laduke's 'Recovering the Sacred' (2005), Barbara Kingsolver's 'Animal, Vegetable, Miracle' (2007), or Spratt and Sutton's 'Climate Code Red' (2008)?
In the end, 'Red Alert', despite its polemics, is a minor discourse on Indigenous environmentalism, where Indigenous people get to ride to the rescue instead of the cavalry. At least, Wildcat hopes that Indigenous knowledge will save the day. As it is, 'Red Alert' is a good but middling introduction to some of the key philosophical issues in Indigenous environmental thinking, such as the role of elders as a source of ancestral teachings, culture as a relationship to the environment, and Indigenous technology as a way of thinking about a post-fossil fuel future. Having said that, if you are teaching a class on the subject of Indigenous environmentalism, then may you want to consider adding substantive works to balance the generalizations that drive 'Red Alert'. Ironically, as climate change persists as a global problem, it has turned Indigenous environmentalism into a major academic field. Look for works by Melissa Nelson, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, and Devon Mihesuah. Wildcat had the good fortune of publishing ahead of much better writers and thinkers.