Eduardo Santiago
"Chilling" is probably not the right word. Would you prefer "horrifying"? Vaillant paints a bleak picture of Earth's future, one shaped by greed and negligence.
The book loosely centers around the week of May 3, 2016 in Fort McMurray, Alberta: fire start, then Everything Is Fine, followed quickly by panic, chaos, terror, disbelief, struggle, shellshock, adaptation, and misery. War, essentially; war that will be coming for most of us. These parts of the book will feel hauntingly familiar to my friends and neighbors in Los Alamos, especially the part where Vaillant writes "[this or that] was—how many times can one say this?—unprecedented." We've lived through that: Cerro Grande (2000) was unlike anything else before; Las Conchas (2011) likewise; and the next one is simply unimaginable as I write this. I don't mean that in a good way.
It's not just the Fort McMurray fire, though: the most impactful parts of the book are the contexts that Vaillant provides. He writes a rich history of atmospheric science, what we know, when we learned it, and HOW we learned it. The scientists and dabblers who, through curiosity and determination and cleverness, figured out the nature of oxygen, carbon dioxide, combustion. The ones who sounded the alarm about CO2 in the nineteenth century, then with increasing urgency in the early and mid and late twentieth. And the subhuman oil executives who squashed those findings.
One of Vaillant's recurring themes is the Lucretius problem (which I'm more familiar with as the Black Swan problem): humans have a poor ability to imagine and plan for events beyond the ordinary. He writes about pyrocumulonimbus: everyone in New Mexico is familiar with these, but apparently they were only formally identified in 1998. He writes of fire tornadoes, which are even newer. He notably does not write about the next unexpected megafire effect, but we can be sure that one future day there'll be another shocking development in fire behavior. I am infinitely grateful that my children will never see what that is.
"Chilling" is probably not the right word. Would you prefer "horrifying"? Vaillant paints a bleak picture of Earth's future, one shaped by greed and negligence.
The book loosely centers around the week of May 3, 2016 in Fort McMurray, Alberta: fire start, then Everything Is Fine, followed quickly by panic, chaos, terror, disbelief, struggle, shellshock, adaptation, and misery. War, essentially; war that will be coming for most of us. These parts of the book will feel hauntingly familiar to my friends and neighbors in Los Alamos, especially the part where Vaillant writes "[this or that] was—how many times can one say this?—unprecedented." We've lived through that: Cerro Grande (2000) was unlike anything else before; Las Conchas (2011) likewise; and the next one is simply unimaginable as I write this. I don't mean that in a good way.
It's not just the Fort McMurray fire, though: the most impactful parts of the book are the contexts that Vaillant provides. He writes a rich history of atmospheric science, what we know, when we learned it, and HOW we learned it. The scientists and dabblers who, through curiosity and determination and cleverness, figured out the nature of oxygen, carbon dioxide, combustion. The ones who sounded the alarm about CO2 in the nineteenth century, then with increasing urgency in the early and mid and late twentieth. And the subhuman oil executives who squashed those findings.
One of Vaillant's recurring themes is the Lucretius problem (which I'm more familiar with as the Black Swan problem): humans have a poor ability to imagine and plan for events beyond the ordinary. He writes about pyrocumulonimbus: everyone in New Mexico is familiar with these, but apparently they were only formally identified in 1998. He writes of fire tornadoes, which are even newer. He notably does not write about the next unexpected megafire effect, but we can be sure that one future day there'll be another shocking development in fire behavior. I am infinitely grateful that my children will never see what that is.