ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It always takes what seems like at least a village or two to juggle the resources, working time and household duties to write a book, and this has turned out to be at least doubly true for writing one during a pandemic. Everyones personal COVID story is, Im sure, full of chaos, anxiety and heartbreak; for my household, with multiple immunocompromised members and a disabled child who hasnt been able to set foot in a physical school since March 2020, ours has been largely a story of constant improvisation amid mounting and waning waves of stress, during which we cobbled together multiple villages worth of friends, neighbours and family to help us manage childcare, paid work, the completion of my wife, Ashley Bristowes, brilliant memoir, My Own Blood, and not dying.
I lack the space and the clear memory for a full accounting, but if youre reading this and you were one of the many who brought us a meal or stopped by for a sanity check or took my son to the river to throw rocks and buy me another hour to work on this book, know that I am deeply grateful. And that the most powerfully transformative aspect of this whole catastrophe for me has been the constant reminder that there is nothing ever built by human hands more important to our collective survivalin a pandemic, in the climate crisis, in any circumstancethan a strong community full of compassionate people.
Among the many crucial members of my community as I completed this book were: my father-in-law, Bruce Bristowe; my parents, John and Margo Turner, who endured the grind of full quarantine so that they could welcome their grandson to Nova Scotia for several months of pandemic caregiving; Alicia Carvajal, the best caregiver my sons ever known; Catherine Mercer, who not only provided a vital online lifeline to my sons therapy through the darkest months of the pandemic but has gone above and beyond her professional duties often and with great joy and enthusiasm; Kathe Lemon, who set up the steady stream of neighbourly meal deliveries to our door when my wife was rendered immobile by a broken leg in the final weeks of this manuscripts completion; and the guys on the Banjo Hitters Slack, who know who they are and exactly how much of my nonsense theyve had to put up with.
The research and field reporting informing this book stretches across nearly twenty years, several other book projects, and numerous grants and fellowships, and was enhanced by the expertise and generosity of hundreds of colleagues around the world. Regarding the new research and reporting for this book, I am especially thankful to: the German government and the Deutsche Gesellschaft fr Internationale Zusammenarbeit for their gracious assistance with my media fellowship at the 2019 Berlin Energy Transition Dialogue; my colleagues at the Walrus magazine and the Walrus Talks lecture series for facilitating my attendance at GLOBE 2016 and 2020; and energy transition colleagues Merran Smith, Linda Coady, Dan Woynillowicz, Ed Whittingham, Philippe Dunsky, Zoe Caron, Gerald Butts, Mikael Colville-Andersen, the Smart Prosperity Institute, the Canadian Institute for Climate Choices, Clean Energy Canada and the Pembina Institute. My gratitude as well to James Glave and Colleen Giroux-Schmidt for reviewing portions of the draft manuscript and offering timely factchecking help.
It has been a great joy to reunite for this book with the brilliant publishing team at Penguin Random House Canada, particularly Anne Collins, Matthew Sibiga, my editor, Craig Pyette, and publisher, Sue Kuruvilla. Im thankful as well for Leah Springates striking design work, the careful copy-editing eye of Gillian Watts, and the watchful proofreading of Tim Hilts.
Finally, I remain more grateful than I could ever adequately express for the love and support of my wife, Ashley Bristowe, and my children, Sloan and Alexander. Whatever optimism I have for this world and our collective future is built on a foundation of the joy they bring me every day.
ALSO BY CHRIS TURNER
Planet Simpson
The Geography of Hope
The Leap
The War on Science
How to Breathe Underwater
The Patch
CHRIS TURNER is a three-time nominee and one-time winner of the National Business Book Award, and a finalist for the Governor Generals Literary Award for Nonfiction (for The Geography of Hope). He has long been one of Canadas leading voices on climate solutions and the global energy transition. His feature writing has earned ten National Magazine Awards and he is the author of five books on technology, energy and climate. He lives in Calgary with his wife, the author Ashley Bristowe, and their two children.
1.0
HOW TO BE A CLIMATE OPTIMIST
1.1 A Better World Waits
Im a climate optimist. Theres nothing starry-eyed or Pollyanna-like about it. Its not a slogan or a marketing pitch. Its something I earned. By accident, in a sense.
By the time these lines meet a readers eyes, my oldest child will be seventeen years old. I first became obsessed with the scale of the mounting climate catastrophe in the year before we started our family, horrified by the coming devastation. This was not a common sentiment in those days. From the point of view of someone worrying over the real issues of the day (war, terrorism, corporate malfeasance, the economy, the economy, the economy), climate fears were fringe concerns to be found over a horizon too distant to even see. But Id talked to a few climate scientists and read some reports in the obscure technical science news, and I was convinced to my core that there would be no public issue in my lifetime as consequential as our collective response to climate change. And I wondered how to tell this horror story with enough shock and awe to make it as urgent as a dispatch from the front lines in a war zone. I outlined a series of magazine features, a sort of world tour of the worlds climate hot spotsdisappearing Pacific islands, melting glaciers, receding coastlines, dried-up farmlands. A map of catastrophe. I had an interested editor ready to write a cheque to cover the round-the-world ticket I would need to write those stories. And then the magazine he edited went bankrupt, and the climate horror stories shifted to my mental back burner as I started a family.
With my wife pregnant with our first child and the horizon of my responsibility stretching beyond my own lifetime, I reacquainted myself with my shelved climate-hot-spots idea. But then I imagined my kids earliest memories perhaps being coloured by trips to islands that would become uninhabitable and glaciers soon to vanish forever. What a grotesque gift that would be. And so I stood the idea on its head. What would a world tour of places that were beating climate change look like?
Id never given focused thought to what sustainability or resilience means, to how energy is made at national or global scales, to what causes a societys (or a worlds) population to choose to burn fossil fuels to meet nearly all its daily needs. But I had a notionthat someone already had to be working on solutions. That those solutions might work. That I might be able to stitch them together into a makeshift map of a better world. That became my primary occupation for the next seventeen years (and counting). I measured the depth of my experience on the beat by the birthdays and milestones of my kids. I watched the oldest one march off to a student climate strike not too long ago, feeling not guilt at what the world had become or terror at what the future might bring, but instead confidence in the certaintycautious and qualified, but a certainty nonethelessthat the tools to build that better world were waiting for those kids. This is what I mean when I say Ive earned my optimism.