Here’s an exercise for you: Imagine the trajectory of our current climate crisis.
You probably don’t need to imagine very hard what this future looks like because we’re seeing it play out in the present: towns torn apart by massive hurricanes, thousands displaced by wildfires, lives taken by extreme heat. All of it is enough to make a person freeze with fear.
But there is a flip side to this terror.
Such an all-consuming problem inherently requires innovative solutions and adaptations of epic proportions. So here’s another exercise: Close your eyes and think, what could a world that hasn’t just taken the climate crisis seriously but also risen to the challenge look like?
Envisioning a better future in the face of serious climate threats might seem like lofty daydreaming, especially when we take into consideration our world leaders’ inaction. But Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, a marine biologist and climate policy wonk, has spent much of her career dreaming and coming up with climate solutions — and she knows that nihilism and avoidance won’t get us anywhere.
In her recently published book, What If We Get It Right?: Visions of Climate Futures, Johnson tackles how we can transform our ways of being, thinking, and doing to stop the worst of climate change. She expertly intertwines her conversations with scientists, artists, and activists to create a practical and accessible guidebook for a more just future brimming with possibilities — a salve for even the most environmentally anxious.
“Peril and possibility coexist,” she writes in the book. Of course, she’s well aware of just how big of an environmental mess our world is in, but you won’t catch her dwelling on the worst-case scenarios for long. “We’re pretty fucked,” Johnson said in her September interview on Vox’s The Gray Area, “but there’s a lot we could do to have a better possible future.”
Johnson is particularly adept at speaking to those who know the climate crisis is real but have the instinct to bury their head in the sand at the thought of such a massive existential crisis. Though she is frank about the state of our world’s environmental health, she speaks and writes with an energizing clarity — whether it’s conversing with climate advocates for her book tour or breaking down big environmental questions as a co-host of the podcast How to Save a Planet.
It’s Johnson’s understanding of our instinct to flee the climate problems that has made it essential for her to explore the possibilities to address it and take action that goes beyond protesting or voting. These are important measures, Johnson believes, but also broad ones that aren’t necessarily fine-tuned to our individual experiences, skills, and interests.
For Johnson, a Brooklyn native who calls the ocean her love before it became her career, that looked like co-founding Urban Ocean Lab (UOL) in 2018. The nonprofit think tank specializes in researching coastal cities in the United States — places that one in five Americans call home and are often vulnerable to some of the worst environmental disasters — and developing equitable, pragmatic policy recommendations for these regions.
One such recommendation is UOL’s climate readiness framework for coastal cities. It’s a comprehensive collection of over 70 actions that coastal communities can apply to better adapt to current and future climate risks, such as working with community-based organizations to strengthen disaster preparedness plans and developing home relocation programs for low-income residents and people of color living in climate-vulnerable places.
The Caribbean region in particular has a special place in Johnson’s heart — her late father hailed from Jamaica, whose waters have suffered from pollution and overfishing. “To me, ocean conservation is in part about cultural preservation,” she writes after reflecting on her father’s life between Jamaica and New York City. “We are losing something more fundamental than a meal: a way of life.”
It makes sense that Johnson has also worked to improve the waters surrounding these islands. Prior to founding UOL, she led an ocean management policy project called the Blue Halo Initiative at the Waitt Institute, where she served as executive director. Starting in Barbuda in 2013, Johnson focused on engaging with the community, interviewing hundreds of fishers and residents to develop policy recommendations for better preserving the waters and the species within it. Just a year later, the Barbuda Council signed into law a set of ocean zoning policies to protect underwater ecosystems and ensure sustainable fishing. These efforts were soon replicated in Montserrat and Curaçao.
Johnson’s reverence for the ocean and the career she’s made out of it has made its way into the American political sphere, too. Back in 2019, the Green New Deal, a set of proposed progressive climate policies, was supported by left-leaning candidates up and down the ballot. Johnson had just one issue with it: It left out our seas almost entirely. “I was feeling bummed about the ocean getting short shrift in the Green New Deal Resolution — just a single, vague reference to the ocean,” Johnson wrote in What If We Get It Right?
That summer, Johnson co-authored an op-ed in Grist about this big blue gap and what solutions to fill it with. Within that year, Johnson was contacted by Sen. Elizabeth Warren’s 2020 presidential campaign to help write what would become the Blue New Deal, an official policy platform for the Warren campaign. It was an extensive list of actions, like expanding marine protected areas, building climate-smart ports, and holding Big Agriculture accountable for water pollution. When Johnson later met Sen. Warren, she wrote in What If We Get It Right? that “[Senator Warren] told me it was the plan that got the most excited mentions in her selfie lines.” And while Joe Biden won the Democratic nomination and the election, his administration became the first to put out a federal Ocean Climate Action plan — which included similar elements to the Blue New Deal — after dozens of businesses and organizations (including UOL) pushed the White House to do so.
There are a lot of studies that show engaging with nature helps our physical and mental well-being, so it’s not surprising that conserving our environment is important for many people. One word that Johnson often uses and embodies is “biophilia”: a love for nature and life, and in her words, “a powerful driving force for conservation.”
With this in mind, I have one more exercise for you: Think of moments you’ve felt biophilia. Maybe you once walked through a lush forest, swam in a pristine lake, or witnessed snow-capped mountains up close. Perhaps you’ve encountered one of the millions of amazing creatures that inhabit these ecosystems. But how can one hold onto this sense of biophilia if much of our ways of life are destroying the very essence of it?
It’s all the more reason not to let our worries immobilize us and instead try to get it right, just as Johnson has done. Her wide-ranging expertise on climate policy; deeply empathetic and inclusive lens for climate solutions; and her unwavering, contagious biophilia has made her a bold visionary to follow in the climate space.
How apt that a lover of the ocean is making waves. —Sam Delgado
