A Book You Should Read

Becoming Earth: How Our Planet Came to Life by Ferris Jabr

I read about this book in Sierra but postponed ordering a copy for several months. When it arrived, I decided I must read it before the sun set on Earth Day this year. I was captivated at the dedication page. Jabr wrote a poem for the myriad parts of our planet’s system that brought tears to my eyes. He concluded, “For our living planet. For our miracle. For Earth.” Each section and chapter ended with equally beautiful poetic summaries.

Becoming Earth is a journey with an excellent tour guide. From a subterranean lab a mile and a half below Earth’s surface, to Brazil’s Amazon Tall Tower Observatory (ATTO) 1066 feet above the Amazon’s canopy, from Siberia’s Pleistocene Park to massive kelp forests off the coast of California, Jabr guides his readers on a tour of the planet through its 4.5-billion-year history to the present day. He examines life forms deep underground to bacteria and bits of organic matter high in the atmosphere which provide core particles for ice crystals and cloud formation.

With a survey of scientific data accumulated in the last few decades, from various fields in the relatively new discipline of Earth system science (ESS), he describes how our home planet is one vast living system. We humans are but one small part of it.

Notable points include the concept that even Earth’s variety of minerals is unique in the known cosmos, dependent as much on the existence of life as living things depend on the chemical composition of the planet. “The chance of two planets having an identical set of mineral species is one in ten to the 322nd power. Given that there are only an estimated ten to the 25th power Earthlike planets in the cosmos, there is almost certainly no other planet [like ours.]”

We inhabit a truly unique “pale, blue dot” in the universe, where life existing deep underground has helped create the land on which the rest of us depend.

Jabr makes the point that humans have altered Earth’s surface and climate since they appeared, but that our species is not the only one which acts to alter its environment. We could learn from pre-historic events. In examining the geologic history of life on the planet, Jabr also compares our current situation to impacts of other species. “Like so many animals before us—from termites to four-ton ground sloths—humans have radically altered Earth’s crust and soils.”

Chapters cover agricultural innovations from the plow to fertilizer and other chemical additives. When we expose soil to the weather, it degrades much faster than soil can be created. “Our living planet typically requires centuries to create a single inch of fertile topsoil.”

The plastic revolution has polluted our oceans to the point where there will soon be more plastic in the seas than there is life. Spewing chemicals, especially extra carbon dioxide and methane into our air has impacted everything, acidifying the oceans, and warming the planet faster than Earth has ever before experienced.

“It has never been more important,” Jabr writes, “to reject the idea that we are masters of the planet, while simultaneously accepting our outsized influence; to recognize that we and all living creatures are members of the same garden. . . humans have a long history of trying to harness and subjugate other species. . .Breaking that cycle has never been more urgent.”

While explaining the severity of our current crisis, Jabr also emphasizes that humans have capabilities that can mitigate the worst of the consequences. If only we would. We can’t afford to wait. The time is now.

In Becoming Earth, we read about life in the most unexpected places. Literally every place on Earth is home to some form of life, whether infinitesimally small, or complex larger species such as trees, and mammals. Though science has typically considered the origin of life as something that happened on Earth, “the two cannot be separated. . .Life is Earth. Our living Earth is the miracle.” The only way for us to survive is together, with all the other life forms that share our planet.

One chapter examines the history of fire on the planet. For millions of years, conditions prevented fires since three things are necessary for a fire to burn: heat, oxygen, and fuel. It took much of Earth’s pre-history for life forms to accumulate enough organic matter that would burn, (fuel) as well as form enough free oxygen in the atmosphere that would allow a flame to burn. Life processes (photosynthesis) created that oxygen, and until the atmosphere held enough of it, fires simply wouldn’t burn. Since that time, fires have become essential for maintaining various systems on the surface.

Life also impacted the carbon cycle. Through respiration, oxygen combines with carbon to form carbon dioxide. Burning fossil fuels adds the greenhouse gas to the atmosphere faster than at any other time in Earth’s history. There have been periods in the past when the surface temperatures were much warmer, when trillions of tons of carbon were released into the atmosphere. This happened over thousands of years, however. “Humanity is releasing a comparable amount in just a few hundred years. . .throughout the greater part of Earth’s 4.5-billion-year history, this much carbon has never been released to the atmosphere this quickly.”

We are in uncharted territory. Nobody really knows what the consequences will be, but they most certainly will change the planet in ways we would not recognize. “If humanity does not drastically cut greenhouse gas emissions, Earth will become a planet incapable of supporting the world as we have known it: the world that our species evolved in.”

As the world’s premier scientists have been telling us for decades, we are living in an escalating planetary emergency that is of our own making. “Without the necessary interventions, the planet will become inhospitable. . . to countless forms of complex life.” Jabr reminds us, though, that we are capable of preserving Earth, “the one living planet we have and the only one we’ve ever found.”

Each of us has a relationship with Earth, through our metabolic processes. Each of us is playing a duet with the planet. May our tunes all be hymns of joy.

A Glimpse of Grace for Earth Day 2021

I was invited to share a few thoughts for Earth Sunday at my church this year. The presentation received enthusiastic endorsements and is worth passing along. I share it below.

A year and a half ago, I headed to Nebraska for an “Elders for the Earth” retreat with the Hunters and Aurora from GUMC. I found it exhilarating to be with a roomful of folks attuned to the ballooning climate crisis, and respectful of the leadership offered by the world’s indigenous peoples.

There were seminars by experts in various fields, including a biology professor, a Catholic sister who shared how the global climate crisis affects our immigration issues, a panel of farmers who advocated for regenerative agriculture, and the Nebraska Sierra Club. Most important for me was the connection with others who share my anxiety about the future of life on Earth and who want to do something about it.

The weekend concluded with a native American smudging ceremony and we returned to our homes pledging actions to effect change that fit our own situations.

Little did I know how much that retreat would change my life. I returned home with ideas for action and a reading list. In the process of working through the books, COVID hit and our old “normal” world changed overnight.

None of us have escaped the COVID months unscathed. If we didn’t contract the virus ourselves, we certainly knew those who did. We all know people who suffered severe symptoms, and even some who succumbed to the virus. Yet in spite of the dire consequences, COVID months provided opportunities to stretch in different directions. I found myself zooming into conference calls with literally hundreds of people around the world, enrolling in online classes that focused on our climate challenges, as well as social justice, and economic systems. Through leadership of indigenous peoples around the world, I expanded my horizons and my hopes for our common future supported by an expanding awareness of our Earth community.

A couple of people and their ideas kept showing up in my varied explorations.

One was Robin Wall Kimmerer, a mother, a scientist, a writer and a member of the Citizen Potawatomie nation. Her book Braiding Sweetgrass helped change my life during COVID. The first time I ever read about Robin was in the run-up to last year’s 50th anniversary of Earth day in the Sierra magazine. She was a featured contributor and her description of a conversation with a student echoes in my mind yet today. “I’m sorry,” she said to this student, “that you have to still fight these environmental battles.” The student responded, “Don’t you see that this is the best possible time to be alive?” (What?! Climate chaos? Extinction crisis?) The student looked her in the eyes and said, “We are on the precipice. When everything hangs in the balance, it matters where I stand. How wonderful to live in a time when everything that I do matters.”

I actually had never thought of it quite like that. But that one idea opened lots of doors. The Elders Retreat helped me realize how complex the crisis we face really is.

Every part of our lives is impacted, from the food we eat to our economy, transportation, government, justice.

Everything on planet Earth is interconnected in ways we are just beginning to understand and no part of my life is immune to change.

Situations highlighting inequities in every area of our lives exploded over the last year. I could easily give in to hopelessness about our children’s future.

But I can’t allow myself that luxury. Those who can least afford to do anything about our climate are the neighbors we are to love and care for. One of my remote friends shared a gift that COVID presented her, the realization that families are made not by birth but by intention. COVID made our family grow to 7.9 billion people.

I can’t afford a moment of despair. But how do I find hope? There are hundreds of thousands of groups working toward a viable future around the world, representing millions of people. That gives me hope.

Another resource that the retreat introduced that I encountered over and over was the Drawdown project.

Through it I learned that we have at least 80 different ways to bring about a Drawdown of the warming gasses in our atmosphere. As COVID loosens its grip on our hometown, and our planet, we have a chance to return cautiously to a new “normal”—certainly not the old one—

that will put us on the path toward restoration of a healthy and viable planet for all of God’s creation. I find that exciting news, and I hope you do too. No one person can do it all, but I can do my part.

As one human family, with each of us doing our part, that will make the difference we need.