n August last year, I traveled to the United Kingdom after a bit of holiday in Ireland. Arriving after one of the worst heat waves in recent history, descending into Nottingham airport, I was struck by the monochromatic landscape below the plane: It was uniformly brown. The grass was dried and desiccated. The weather was oppressively hot by any standard, and only marginally better than the week prior. After a delayed train journey to London, I found myself in a hotel room in which the air conditioning was merely a cough against the city’s still baking heat. At night, I resorted to opening the windows and using a fan to try to get a breeze going. While I welcomed the noises of my favorite city, I was unable to sleep. During the day, I found myself sweating on the Tube, forgetting that it was not air-conditioned unlike the Metro in Washington, D.C. (one of its few redeeming qualities).
My comfort was clearly the smallest of issues, but it was a reminder that the weather is indeed different than what it once was, and that the climate is changing before our very eyes. Abnormal weather simply has become normal. Severe storms, droughts, heat waves, and the like are all becoming increasingly common. While much of the world recognizes this there remains a fierce and open debate within the United States. Many question whether the climate is changing or indeed can change, and whether humanity is responsible. It is a strikingly narrow view both in terms of the future, but also of history. While the shortsightedness may be politically expedient, it is also a function of how history is often studied and explored without the climate playing a role. Indeed, climate is an afterthought, if it is a thought at all.
Peter Frankopan seeks to correct this historical omission, placing nature and climate right at the heart of his global history, “The Earth Transformed.” It is a boldly ambitious book that surveys everything from the formation of the earth to today’s changing climate. Frankopan’s goal to put nature and climate at the heart of the story is a success, but far more than a literary hook. As he writes, “Reintegrating human and natural history is not just a worthwhile exercise; it is fundamentally important if we are to understand the world around us properly.” It is an unsurprising testament to Frankopan’s skill—given his previous books—that he weaves this rich and fascinating story together in such a seamless fashion.
Frankopan takes a much wider look at civilization, moving away from the traditional Western-centric story, exploring civilizations in Latin and South America, Africa, Central and Southeast Asia, and more. Frankopan looks beyond the cities of civilization to nomadic populations and more remote populations. It is a truly global history and one that introduces the reader into parts of the world and story of humanity to which they are unlikely to have been previously exposed.
This also exposes fundamental weaknesses in our historical understanding of the world. As he looks to the non-Western areas, it is striking to reflect on the paucity of scientific and historical data from parts of the world, such as Central Africa, the addition of which will only help our understanding of this complex planet. Readers will, nonetheless, be struck by how much we can infer about the past through scientific data and anthropological extrapolation. While some of the extrapolations will need to be taken with a grain of salt, humanity’s interaction with the climate is a rich story, nonetheless.
It is truly fascinating to reflect on how much humanity’s fate and growth were functions of climatic conditions—whether opportune or otherwise. While everyone recognizes the importance of weather and climate, it is something we take for granted, focusing only on the present. This is one of the many virtues of Frankopan’s book—by putting climate back into a lead role, readers see just how consequential the winds and rains truly are.
The environment serves as a butterfly effect; changes in temperature or precipitation either helped civilization expand or created conditions for instability. A decline in crop productivity because of reduced rainfall leads to increased political pressure as increasingly scarce resources are fought over. That same decline in precipitation in one region creates more propitious circumstances elsewhere. The climate is truly a wondrously complex system. The connection between politics and climate is vividly made by Frankopan as the fortunes of leaders from the Middle East to China were directly connected to the vagaries of the environment.
While environmentalism may be a recent political movement, the philosophical and practical concerns that underpin it are not as novel as one would presume. Throughout history, as Frankopan shows, this was a repeated concern throughout history. Whether admonishments about overfishing or the impact of logging, concerns about the environment are not a modern phenomenon. Yet, the impact that humanity has on the environment is exponentially growing. The industrial revolution and the exploitation of hydrocarbons turbocharged, and (potentially) irrevocably altered, global climate in ways we are only just beginning to appreciate.
There are two parallel and striking takeaways from Frankopan’s book. First, while natural disasters were and remain often unexpected (scientific advancements notwithstanding), the real consequences of these events are not the environmental impact itself, but humanity’s response to these events. It is less about the drought and more about humanity’s inability to prepare for that eventuality or respond to its occurrence. Humans are a supremely adaptable species, but remarkably shortsighted and prone to over- and under-reaction. Famine, as it has been noted, is not the absence of food per se, but the inefficient distribution of caloric resources. Humanity’s adaptability may well be the planet’s downfall: we are a frog in the slowly boiling pot, but a frog that manages to shift its position in the pot, and create new, more habitable conditions in said pot. How long we manage to keep this pattern going remains to be seen.
Conversely, and as Frankopan explores in his conclusion, not all is doom and gloom. It is possible that with political intervention and technological innovation, humanity could slow the effects of climate change. This could well be one area of future geopolitical competition as countries look for competitive advantages in green technology and to create more favorable investment climates. The United States’ Inflation Reduction Act, with its green energy incentives, is seen by some in Europe as stealth protectionism, prompting suggestions that Brussels and the European Union do the same to protect their own green companies. Competition over critical minerals and rare earth elements, both of which are necessary for electric vehicles, is also creating new opportunities, but also environmental stresses.
The other striking trend, and one unsurprising given Frankopan’s previous books, is the network effects that existed well before modern conceptions of globalization. The influence of trade on humanity is well established, but it is the interrelationship of trade with the climate that is particularly interesting. As Frankopan shows, the effects of climate or environmental change in one area is not restricted to that area. While this seems obvious, it is important to reflect that this is not some modern development. Genghis Khan benefited from climatic conditions that increased the grazing area for his horses, but also built an impressive continent-wide administrative network, something lost in most narratives about the Mongol leader. Yet, while that very network created incredible trading opportunities, it also facilitated the spread of the plague. In Western Europe, as Frankopan shows, the destructive effects of the plague led to increasing political isolation and insular trade, ending a period of flourishing global relationships.
Frankopan also broadens our understanding of climactic effects. It is not all about the weather, but also includes solar ejections, the orbit of the planet around the sun, volcanic activity, and even the weight of the ice shelf on the crust of the earth. Climate is truly a complex thing and one we do not fully understand. This is not to say that we do not know anything, far from it, but it is to say that we’re still learning about how this complex system interacts and how humanity interacts with it, as well. What matters are the trends which show humanity is having an adverse impact on the environment and warming the planet.
Humanity has also been remarkably lucky in the geological lottery. While there have been devastating hurricanes and earthquakes, our volatile planet has remained rather quiet, considering its past behavior. The impact of these events should not be underestimated: one volcanic eruption in Iceland (Eyjafjallajökull) in 2010 halted European air travel. It does not take much for our modern way of life to be disrupted by natural activity.
While some may see the complexity of the climate and our still-growing understanding of the global network as justification that we can do very little about the planet, or that attempting to slow or reverse climate change is a fool's errand, this is a false argument. Switching to green technologies, finding new energy sources (and resurrecting old ones like nuclear), and ultimately reducing our impact on the planet will have net positive economic benefits in the long-term, even as it may cause short-term stresses.
Frankopan’s book is a truly global narrative that is boldly impressive in its ambition and exceptionally successful in its goal to put climate and the environment back into the story of the planet and humanity’s evolution. It is a delightfully illuminating read, and one that is sure to leave readers enlightened about how the climate has affected our past, much more aware of the effects taking place in the present, and rightly concerned about our collective planetary future.
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Climate, Civilization, and the Constancy of Change
Photo by Mark Harpur on Unsplash
April 15, 2023
In his latest book, Peter Frankopan rethinks global history, placing nature and climate at the center of his survey. It is a boldly ambitious book, and Frankopan succeeds not only in reframing a narrative on history, but in giving some reason for hope in the climate crisis, writes Joshua Huminski.
I
n August last year, I traveled to the United Kingdom after a bit of holiday in Ireland. Arriving after one of the worst heat waves in recent history, descending into Nottingham airport, I was struck by the monochromatic landscape below the plane: It was uniformly brown. The grass was dried and desiccated. The weather was oppressively hot by any standard, and only marginally better than the week prior. After a delayed train journey to London, I found myself in a hotel room in which the air conditioning was merely a cough against the city’s still baking heat. At night, I resorted to opening the windows and using a fan to try to get a breeze going. While I welcomed the noises of my favorite city, I was unable to sleep. During the day, I found myself sweating on the Tube, forgetting that it was not air-conditioned unlike the Metro in Washington, D.C. (one of its few redeeming qualities).
My comfort was clearly the smallest of issues, but it was a reminder that the weather is indeed different than what it once was, and that the climate is changing before our very eyes. Abnormal weather simply has become normal. Severe storms, droughts, heat waves, and the like are all becoming increasingly common. While much of the world recognizes this there remains a fierce and open debate within the United States. Many question whether the climate is changing or indeed can change, and whether humanity is responsible. It is a strikingly narrow view both in terms of the future, but also of history. While the shortsightedness may be politically expedient, it is also a function of how history is often studied and explored without the climate playing a role. Indeed, climate is an afterthought, if it is a thought at all.
Peter Frankopan seeks to correct this historical omission, placing nature and climate right at the heart of his global history, “The Earth Transformed.” It is a boldly ambitious book that surveys everything from the formation of the earth to today’s changing climate. Frankopan’s goal to put nature and climate at the heart of the story is a success, but far more than a literary hook. As he writes, “Reintegrating human and natural history is not just a worthwhile exercise; it is fundamentally important if we are to understand the world around us properly.” It is an unsurprising testament to Frankopan’s skill—given his previous books—that he weaves this rich and fascinating story together in such a seamless fashion.
Frankopan takes a much wider look at civilization, moving away from the traditional Western-centric story, exploring civilizations in Latin and South America, Africa, Central and Southeast Asia, and more. Frankopan looks beyond the cities of civilization to nomadic populations and more remote populations. It is a truly global history and one that introduces the reader into parts of the world and story of humanity to which they are unlikely to have been previously exposed.
This also exposes fundamental weaknesses in our historical understanding of the world. As he looks to the non-Western areas, it is striking to reflect on the paucity of scientific and historical data from parts of the world, such as Central Africa, the addition of which will only help our understanding of this complex planet. Readers will, nonetheless, be struck by how much we can infer about the past through scientific data and anthropological extrapolation. While some of the extrapolations will need to be taken with a grain of salt, humanity’s interaction with the climate is a rich story, nonetheless.
It is truly fascinating to reflect on how much humanity’s fate and growth were functions of climatic conditions—whether opportune or otherwise. While everyone recognizes the importance of weather and climate, it is something we take for granted, focusing only on the present. This is one of the many virtues of Frankopan’s book—by putting climate back into a lead role, readers see just how consequential the winds and rains truly are.
The environment serves as a butterfly effect; changes in temperature or precipitation either helped civilization expand or created conditions for instability. A decline in crop productivity because of reduced rainfall leads to increased political pressure as increasingly scarce resources are fought over. That same decline in precipitation in one region creates more propitious circumstances elsewhere. The climate is truly a wondrously complex system. The connection between politics and climate is vividly made by Frankopan as the fortunes of leaders from the Middle East to China were directly connected to the vagaries of the environment.
While environmentalism may be a recent political movement, the philosophical and practical concerns that underpin it are not as novel as one would presume. Throughout history, as Frankopan shows, this was a repeated concern throughout history. Whether admonishments about overfishing or the impact of logging, concerns about the environment are not a modern phenomenon. Yet, the impact that humanity has on the environment is exponentially growing. The industrial revolution and the exploitation of hydrocarbons turbocharged, and (potentially) irrevocably altered, global climate in ways we are only just beginning to appreciate.
There are two parallel and striking takeaways from Frankopan’s book. First, while natural disasters were and remain often unexpected (scientific advancements notwithstanding), the real consequences of these events are not the environmental impact itself, but humanity’s response to these events. It is less about the drought and more about humanity’s inability to prepare for that eventuality or respond to its occurrence. Humans are a supremely adaptable species, but remarkably shortsighted and prone to over- and under-reaction. Famine, as it has been noted, is not the absence of food per se, but the inefficient distribution of caloric resources. Humanity’s adaptability may well be the planet’s downfall: we are a frog in the slowly boiling pot, but a frog that manages to shift its position in the pot, and create new, more habitable conditions in said pot. How long we manage to keep this pattern going remains to be seen.
Conversely, and as Frankopan explores in his conclusion, not all is doom and gloom. It is possible that with political intervention and technological innovation, humanity could slow the effects of climate change. This could well be one area of future geopolitical competition as countries look for competitive advantages in green technology and to create more favorable investment climates. The United States’ Inflation Reduction Act, with its green energy incentives, is seen by some in Europe as stealth protectionism, prompting suggestions that Brussels and the European Union do the same to protect their own green companies. Competition over critical minerals and rare earth elements, both of which are necessary for electric vehicles, is also creating new opportunities, but also environmental stresses.
The other striking trend, and one unsurprising given Frankopan’s previous books, is the network effects that existed well before modern conceptions of globalization. The influence of trade on humanity is well established, but it is the interrelationship of trade with the climate that is particularly interesting. As Frankopan shows, the effects of climate or environmental change in one area is not restricted to that area. While this seems obvious, it is important to reflect that this is not some modern development. Genghis Khan benefited from climatic conditions that increased the grazing area for his horses, but also built an impressive continent-wide administrative network, something lost in most narratives about the Mongol leader. Yet, while that very network created incredible trading opportunities, it also facilitated the spread of the plague. In Western Europe, as Frankopan shows, the destructive effects of the plague led to increasing political isolation and insular trade, ending a period of flourishing global relationships.
Frankopan also broadens our understanding of climactic effects. It is not all about the weather, but also includes solar ejections, the orbit of the planet around the sun, volcanic activity, and even the weight of the ice shelf on the crust of the earth. Climate is truly a complex thing and one we do not fully understand. This is not to say that we do not know anything, far from it, but it is to say that we’re still learning about how this complex system interacts and how humanity interacts with it, as well. What matters are the trends which show humanity is having an adverse impact on the environment and warming the planet.
Humanity has also been remarkably lucky in the geological lottery. While there have been devastating hurricanes and earthquakes, our volatile planet has remained rather quiet, considering its past behavior. The impact of these events should not be underestimated: one volcanic eruption in Iceland (Eyjafjallajökull) in 2010 halted European air travel. It does not take much for our modern way of life to be disrupted by natural activity.
While some may see the complexity of the climate and our still-growing understanding of the global network as justification that we can do very little about the planet, or that attempting to slow or reverse climate change is a fool's errand, this is a false argument. Switching to green technologies, finding new energy sources (and resurrecting old ones like nuclear), and ultimately reducing our impact on the planet will have net positive economic benefits in the long-term, even as it may cause short-term stresses.
Frankopan’s book is a truly global narrative that is boldly impressive in its ambition and exceptionally successful in its goal to put climate and the environment back into the story of the planet and humanity’s evolution. It is a delightfully illuminating read, and one that is sure to leave readers enlightened about how the climate has affected our past, much more aware of the effects taking place in the present, and rightly concerned about our collective planetary future.
