“This is a book about us,” begins Stephen Emmott’s 10 Billion. “It’s a book about you, your children, your parents, your friends.(…)It’s about the unprecedented planetary emergency we’ve created. It’s about the future of us.” This future, as Emmott describes it, will largely involve mass environmental destruction, rapid climate change, biodiversity loss, shortages of food and water, starvation, migration, rioting, and death. To call Emmott’s work a bleak book would be an understatement. Instead, it might be better described as the literary equivalent of being smacked in the face by the apocalypse.
10 Billion is a slim volume, made slimmer by the fact that many pages contain but a single sentence; the largest block of text spans about four paragraphs. Emmott uses bullet points for clarity, and often repeats a point more than once. Plenty of visuals in the form of alarming upward-trending graphs and photographs of ecological disasters further break up the read. Though an academic—Emmott is head of Computational Science at Microsoft—this scientist’s anger is palpable. At one point he berates humanity for its stupidity and concludes his book by asserting, “I think we’re fucked.”
The crux of Emmott’s warning is as frightening as it is familiar: population growth combined with a consumer culture that overtaxes the earth’s resources will wreck our planet. While the industrial revolution and agricultural innovation worked to create a society that could produce more, its systems were poised for unsustainability. We are now ensnared, possibly permanently, in destructive feedback loops, particularly those related to our increased food demands, our addiction to fossil fuels, and the destabilizing of our environmental systems. The future is uncertain and there are no pleasant answers. Only one thing is certain: “Every which way you look at it, a planet of ten billion looks like a nightmare.”
Effective fixes to Emmott’s doomsday premonitions are seemingly nonexistent. Technological programs related to green energy, nuclear power, desalination, geoengineering, and a second green revolution are introduced only to be summarily dismissed a few sentences later. Apparently these innovations all either rely on science that doesn’t exist yet, or are liable to cause other, bigger problems, or else necessitate long-term, wide-spread development unfeasible in current society. The only possible solution is to consume less. Yet according to all available trends, we are unwilling to make such a sacrifice.
Now, before we all dig bunkers and stock up on canned food, it bears considering that while 10 Billion certainly addresses some very real problems, there are possibilities Emmott has not considered. In his analysis, he uses only the most dire projections and only includes data that reveals negative trends. He ignores countries with declining birthrates. He declares an imminent phosphate shortage to be fact rather than speculation. Moreover, he does not even consider the solution most dear to Divergent: smarter, more environmentally friendly manufacturing.
In 10 Billion, Emmott laments the immense and hidden costs of vehicle production. “Volkswagen, Ford, Toyota, and others keep telling us that you can buy a car from around $13,000,” he scoffs, revealing that such figures ignore “externalities,” including the cost of obtaining raw materials and shipping them to be processed and assembled. When these processes are considered, the cost of a car is “an absolute fortune.” Yet with the technology produced by Divergent many of these processes could be cut out.
Creating products that do not necessitate excessive back and forth shipping and require less material and energy to make allow consumers to leave a smaller carbon footprint without changing behavior. Not that we shouldn’t also endeavor to consume less.
This is a good book to read if you were feeling a bit too optimistic about the environment or just need another reason to support dematerialization.