Wondering what the hell to do right now?
With the U.S. in upheaval, the international order unraveling and the mercury hitting record levels, here's one idea on how to respond.
A few years ago, I arrived late for a gathering at a co-working space. I found the door open and the space all but empty. I thought briefly about heading home. Yet the lush plants, bathing under the skylight’s glow, felt like an invitation. I followed the faint sound of voices upstairs, reaching a glass-walled conference room. This was the meeting I had read about online: Let’s Talk About Climate Change.
I listened more than I talked that day. A little over a dozen people showed up and, since we were in Barcelona, they were from all over the world. We shared our names and home countries, our fears and hopes. If you had asked me, I would have told you that I went to meet people, not to ease my climate anxiety. And I would not have been telling the whole truth, because I did not know it myself.
After that inaugural session, the group kept holding meetings, and I kept going. I was often traveling or busy or ill, but I went when I could. I gradually got to know the organizer and some of the regulars. With time, I passed from an attendee to a regular to an organizer without quite realizing it. I mean, I know that it was last April that I held the first meeting of what I dubbed the Climate Action Book Club. But that initial gathering felt like a casual chat with friends. Maybe ten people showed up. Tops. And several were actually friends.
So when 85 people registered for the latest meeting, my thoughts turned to that long-ago first step. I had followed a weekend whim to a Meetup group. One meeting turned into several, and later to hikes and beach days and overnight trips to the Pyrenees.
Then I decided I wanted to talk with people about the climate books I was reading. I posted it online. I encouraged people to come for the discussion even if they had not read the book, and to bring friends. That resonated. Half a dozen meetings later, the group is threatening to get too big for the lovely English book store, Backstory, that hosts us. (Fortunately, only about a third of registrants show up to meetings.)
The journey has reminded me of the profound power in first steps, even small ones. That feels like an important reminder for all of us trying to help humanity make its way to, well, a cooler future. One oft-cited challenge to climate action is that any effort feels puny in the face of the threat. That is daunting, to be sure. To repeat a popular line, there are no silver bullets. There are, in some ways, only small steps. The good news is that everyone can take a small step.
I’m writing this to invite you to take one with us.
You might have noticed that the group is called the Climate Action Book Club. From the start, the goal has been not just to read books, but to inspire and organize action. Yet figuring out what that looks like has been tricky. I’ve hosted three special meetings on the topic, which have left me with many notes and little clarity. In part, the challenge is particular to determining the role for a group of English-speaking foreigners in Barcelona. But it also speaks to the reality that every climate action feels too small to be meaningful. Where to begin?
So what does a book club do when faced with such a problem? Read a book on it, of course. To shine a light on the possible paths, our March book club choice is Micro Activism: How You Can Change the World Without a Bullhorn by Omkari Williams. (Are you in Barcelona? Join us! There’s still space.)
Williams, a political consultant and life coach, does not lay out the path. But she does tell you how to prepare for the journey. What to carry in your mental pack, so to speak, whether your mission is climate change, reproductive rights, poverty or anything else. Her book is a guide, in essence, to how to turn first steps into second steps. It’s about how to keep walking, despite overwhelm and exhaustion.
Perhaps you are horrified by the recent fires in Los Angeles — or in Ghana, Australia or across South America. Perhaps you are wondering what to do as the Trump administration blowtorches American climate policy — and the rest of the U.S. government and international order. Or maybe you are disgusted by corporations following suit by cheerily combusting their own climate promises.
Maybe, like our group, you have been asking yourself a similar question for a long time: Where, exactly, to begin? An answer: With us. I invite you to read this book. Who knows what will happen after that first step? If there’s demand, I’d be happy to organize an online book chat. And I pledge, as I always try to do, to listen more than I talk.
For the record, the book is just 175 pages — and that’s counting a bunch of bulleted summary pages and an appendix. This is a cheerful, can-do canter through a world of potential and possibility, not a horrifying slog into climate reality. (Though if that’s what you want, I have recommendations. The first? Don’t begin there.)
As I wrote for the description of the very first book club: “The climate emergency will not be solved by reading books — but by coming together to read, educate ourselves, and share what we learn with friends and family, we can be a small part of the wave of change humanity desperately needs.”
Want to join us? Should I hold a call? Let me know.
Take Action
drop | Read with us. Get a copy of the book. Let us know you will be reading it. And if we have an online discussion, please join us.
ripple | Recruit some friends. Get family, colleagues and other die-hards to read it with you. That’s what our club is, ultimately. A group of friends, even if sometimes we do not yet know each other.
wave | Start a club. I had never hosted a book club before until this one. I am sure you’re at least as competent as me, and probably more so.
I make this up as I go along. Suggestions are welcome.
Revolution is the pod (33)
Revolution is the pod
Systems rattle from;
When the winds of
Will are stirred,
Excellent is bloom.
But except its russet
Base
Every summer be
The entomber of itself;
So of Liberty.
Left inactive on the
Stalk,
All its purple fled,
Revolution shakes it
For
Test if it be dead.
– Emily Dickinson
Worth Your Time
My dear friend Linda told the story of how Barcelona’s parkside cafes and teenager-designated train cars helps allow children (and parents) to be independent. Read it at Business Insider.
Many thanks to my editor in chief, Roshni Kavate, and my copyeditor, Steve Kay. Any errors, in judgement or grammar, are mine alone.