By Thorsten Arnold
As someone who began my academic journey in Marine Environmental Studies after witnessing the vibrant beauty of coral reefs, I resonated deeply with Ayana Elizabeth Johnson’s work. Initially, like many, I believed that focusing on greenhouse gas (GHG) reductions would be the most effective way to tackle climate change. However, as I delved into Earth Systems, Tipping Points, and land-use issues, I came to understand that local communities can have a far more intentional and immediate impact on regional climate through land and watershed management. In 2004, this insight led me to refocus on agroecology and integrated assessments of local environments, culminating in running our own farm grounded in ecological principles.
Ayana Elizabeth Johnson’s What If We Get It Right? (Sept 2024) mirrors this journey of expanding beyond GHGs and technological solutions, providing a multi-faceted vision that encompasses not just marine biology, but also agriculture, city planning, and systemic policy changes. Her unique perspective as a coral reef scientist brings an even deeper layer to this understanding—one where she can discuss the demise of coral reefs with joy. This may seem paradoxical, but it speaks to her broader approach: facing ecological loss with possibility and imagining new futures through collective action and love.
A Multi-Faceted Vision: Agriculture, Cities, and Systems Change
Ayana Johnson’s vision is striking in its breadth. She writes by framing topics and then bringing in the voices of experts through edited interviews, rather than simply speaking from her own perspective. that make the book accessible and give a sense of joy and even goofiness, making a tough subject matter digestible. Ayana’s approach allows her to curate a multi-disciplinary conversation around climate solutions. Among others, featured experts include environmentalist Bill McKibben; Leah Penniman, co-founder of Soul Fire Farm; and Kate Orff, an architect and urban designer focused on integrating ecosystems into city planning. By weaving together their insights, poems and visual art (including from Wendell Berry or Marge Pierce), Johnson creates a joyful and surprisingly light reading that offers a rich, collaborative narrative that highlights the complexity of climate solutions across disciplines
She starts of with rural regions. She brings together land-based and marine agriculture, forestry, and rural community. She speaks passionately about the potential of regenerative, local food systems to heal ecosystems, restore biodiversity, and provide communities with resilience against climate shocks. Her perspective echoes my own shift toward agroecology, where I have seen firsthand how intentional land management can mitigate climate impacts and even reverse biodiversity loss — if part of a larger cultural transformation of our society.
In addition to rural land, Johnson addresses city design, imagining urban environments that not only reduce emissions but actively support biodiversity and foster human well-being. She paints a picture of cities with green infrastructure, urban farms, and policies that prioritize equity, ensuring that all people, especially marginalized communities, can benefit from climate solutions.
Crucially, her critique of the financial system is sharp and necessary. She calls for deep changes in how we think about money and profit, advocating for an economic model that values ecological health and community well-being. This transformative vision requires policies that are justice-centered, pushing back against the status quo that prioritizes short-term profits over long-term sustainability.
Johnson’s focus on shifting power is central to her climate strategy. She places community-led solutions and social justice at the core of her approach, arguing that real change comes from decentralized power and leadership from BIPOC and marginalized communities. This vision of community-first solutions is in line with my own understanding of the climate crisis: true resilience comes from empowering those who have long been excluded from decision-making.
Realistic Optimism: A Grounded Vision of Hope
What sets Ayana Elizabeth Johnson apart from many other climate writers is her ability to hold space for both the dramatic state of the Earth and a profound sense of joy and realistic optimism. She acknowledges the tipping points we’ve already passed—whether it’s coral reefs bleaching beyond repair or the thawing of permafrost—but rather than falling into despair, she focuses on what can still be done. Her chapter on hope is particularly powerful in this regard.
In contrast to white climate thinkers like Jem Bendell or Joe Brewer, who often frame collapse as an inevitable endpoint that requires preparation and adaptation to societal breakdown, Johnson offers a counter-narrative. She doesn’t deny the possibility of collapse, but she reframes it through the lens of resilience, emotional growth, and community action. As a Black woman, Johnson draws on the history of BIPOC communities, who have already endured and survived multiple collapses—colonization, slavery, and systemic oppression—and emerged with new forms of resilience and cultural evolution.
Johnson’s “Fuck Hope” stance resonates deeply with me. She critiques the way “hope” is predominantly used in climate literature as a reactive term—a longing to preserve the status quo, which often includes the preservation of privilege and lifestyle. Many white writers, like Bill McKibben, focus on preventing the loss of material wealth and stability, but Johnson rejects this notion of preservational hope. Like many other terms that are so misused that they are no longer useful, Ayana places the term where it belongs – into the garbage bin of maladapted terms. Where the term can simmer alongside others that we should no longer utilize – like Arbeit macht Frei (“Work is liberating”), the N-word (even if used amicably), and Boys are just being boys. Instead, she embraces the idea that some will get through the tunnel alive, not all of us, but enough of us to rebuild a more just and loving world. For her, this sense of possibility—combined with a deep love for life—is what sustains her vision.
Possibility and Love: A Counter-Narrative to Preservational Hope
For Johnson, love and possibility are the true drivers of change, not a desperate clinging to what we once had. This is a radical departure from traditional environmental narratives, which often focus on technological fixes and systemic reforms aimed at preventing collapse. These approaches can feel alien to communities who have already experienced so much loss and transformation. For Johnson, collapse is not the end, but rather a moment of profound opportunity for personal and societal transformation. She emphasizes emotional growth, cultural shifts, and the rebuilding of systems from a foundation of love, care, and justice.
Ayana’s book is an essential counterpoint to the fear-driven climate discourse. She provides a vision of possibility that centers community, equity, and collective responsibility, offering a way forward that feels grounded in reality, yet profoundly empowering. As someone who has spent years navigating the complexities of environmental change, I applaud her message. In a world that often feels stuck between the brink of collapse and collective denial (either of the collapse itself, or of the futility of our current efforts), Ayana Elizabeth Johnson reminds us that survival is possible, and not just survival, but the possibility of thriving if we commit to the hard work of building a just and sustainable future. If we seek out the pain of personal transformation for the sake of beauty and love – like a woman birthing to a baby. This book offers a powerful invitation: to re-imagine our world not out of fear of loss, but out of love for life and a belief in what we can still create.
Leave a Reply