Abstract
In The Great Disruption, Paul Gilding manages to avoid what might otherwise have been a depressingly apocalyptic reading experience by laying out an optimistic prediction of things to come. His vision is that ‘our backs will be up against the wall, and in that situation we have proven ourselves to be extraordinary. As the full scale of the imminent crisis hits us, our response will be proportionally dramatic, mobilising as we do in war’ (p. 2).
The actions of Great Britain and the United States during World War II fuel much of Gilding’s optimism, and his argument is that we have no choice but to act when climate destabilisation hits us over the head in such a widespread fashion. World War II and a global decline of resources are clearly challenges of vastly different scale, but he uses war as an example of our capacity to initiate system-wide changes quickly. He focuses on examples like wartime fuel rationing and factory retooling to support the idea that people will accept massive change, including a reduction in standards of living, if the stakes are high enough.
It is important not to confuse Gilding’s position with technological optimism. He does not propose that we will escape widespread human suffering or continuing mass extinction of non-humans. Nor does he propose that we should wait patiently until ‘our backs (are) up against the wall’. He recognises that permanent climate destabilisation is already occurring and that things are happening that cannot be fixed. He urges all of us to continue doing everything in our collective power to avert those tragedies that are still possible to avoid.
Gilding does not shy away from controversial statements. He attacks economic growth and consumerism, openly advocates redistribution of wealth (both nationally and globally) and proposes that corporate goliaths like big oil and coal will be out of business in a few decades. Interestingly, he is not anti-corporate, anti-capitalist or socialist. To the contrary, Gilding has served as Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of two corporations and advised others such as DuPont, Ford Motor Company, BHP Billiton, Anglo American and Diageo (however, he still refers to ExxonMobil as ‘the death star’). He is also decidedly capitalist, devoting several pages of the book to why he doesn’t believe in socialism. One of my favorite quotes in the book is, ‘talk is cheap, it takes money to buy beer’ (p. 162). These and other provocative discussion topics will keep many a class in animated debate. As a bonus, he supports his arguments with the work of so many other people that his ‘Further Reading’ section is like a self-guided tour for adventurous readers of sustainability.
The greatest strength of The Great Disruption is that Gilding deftly draws together research from across multiple disciplines to build a web of interconnectedness that does justice to the task of sustainability. He synthesises economics, politics, climate science, psychology, systems theory, management and several additional academic disciplines to weave a rich image of what is to come. And he is so respectful of the people he draws on that he manages to predict the future without sounding egotistical or misguided.
The book does fall slightly flat when it comes to next steps. While he gives us much-needed hope, it will be difficult for many sustainability activists or educators to be content simply with freecycling or living with less stuff. His examples of corporate executives doing the right thing will not resonate with many readers. And though he tries his best to counteract it, readers may be left feeling like they are in a holding pattern, waiting for things to get bad enough for the rewarding work to start.
As a resource for sustainability education, The Great Disruption contains a concise history of the sustainability movement and an accessible, accurate overview of current climate science and systems thinking.