Category Archives: Science and nature books

Yuval Noah Harari: ‘Will coronavirus change our attitudes to death? Quite the opposite’

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Will the coronavirus pandemic return us to more traditional and accepting, attitudes towards dying – or reinforce our attempts to prolong life?

The modern world has been shaped by the belief that humans can outsmart and defeat death. That was a revolutionary new attitude. For most of history, humans meekly submitted to death. Up to the late modern age, most religions and ideologies saw death not only as our inevitable fate, but as the main source of meaning in life. The most important events of human existence happened after you exhaled your last breath. Only then did you come to learn the true secrets of life. Only then did you gain eternal salvation, or suffer everlasting damnation. In a world without death – and therefore without heaven, hell or reincarnation – religions such as Christianity, Islam and Hinduism would have made no sense. For most of history the best human minds were busy giving meaning to death, not trying to defeat it.

The Epic of Gilgamesh, the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, the Bible, the Qur’an, the Vedas, and countless other sacred books and tales patiently explained to distressed humans that we die because God decreed it, or the Cosmos, or Mother Nature, and we had better accept that destiny with humility and grace. Perhaps someday God would abolish death through a grand metaphysical gesture such as Christ’s second coming. But orchestrating such cataclysms was clearly above the pay grade of flesh-and-blood humans.

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Our new normal: why so many of us feel unprepared for lockdown life

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In his former job as a war correspondent, novelist James Meek witnessed the thin line between everyday life and chaos - but no experience prepared him for our current emergency

Before the lockdown, I went to see a friend who lives a few miles away in south London. I cycled from Nunhead to her home in Blackheath. On the way I passed a tense crowd of people being forced to wait to get into the Iceland store in New Cross. I reached my friend’s block of flats, climbed the stairs to her front door and laid my satchel on the doormat. She opened the door, greeted me from a distance of a couple of yards, removed the groceries she’d asked me to bring, some salmon and a bottle of olive oil, and put them away. We chatted for about half an hour, me sitting on a step out in the hall, her standing in the doorway, neither of us getting closer than two yards. Her husband, whose mild cough a couple of days earlier had triggered her self-isolation, was a disembodied voice offstage. My friend and I always kiss hello and goodbye; we’ve known each other for 10 years. Not this time. I went back to Nunhead, to queue for more food for my family – the butcher, the fishmonger and the greengrocer all had queues outside – then went home and washed my hands.

It’s the small necessary tasks that get you through the abnormality: the assignments, the missions, the good deeds. They break down the fearfulness and strangeness of the greater emergency into smaller, more manageable chunks of personal time where we can see what we have to do and see, just as importantly, that we can actually do it. The more we have to confront the enormity of the changes around us, and our own individual powerlessness to alter the tide of events, the more likely we are to break down or be paralysed. The merciful paradox of crises like these is to bring so many new chores and duties that the difficulties – sometimes the novelties – of solving each step helps occupy the part of our brain that yearns to know what’s going on and do something about it.

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Naomi Klein: ‘We are seeing the beginnings of the era of climate barbarism’

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The No Logo author talks about solutions to the climate crisis, Greta Thunberg, birth strikes and how she finds hope

• Read an extract from her new book, On Fire: The Burning Case for a Green New Deal here

Why are you publishing this book now?
I still feel that the way that we talk about climate change is too compartmentalised, too siloed from the other crises we face. A really strong theme running through the book is the links between it and the crisis of rising white supremacy, the various forms of nationalism and the fact that so many people are being forced from their homelands, and the war that is waged on our attention spans. These are intersecting and interconnecting crises and so the solutions have to be as well.

The book collects essays from the last decade, have you changed your mind about anything?
When I look back, I don’t think I placed enough emphasis on the challenge climate change poses to the left. It’s more obvious the way the climate crisis challenges a rightwing dominant worldview, and the cult of serious centrism that never wants to do anything big, that’s always looking to split the difference. But this is also a challenge to a left worldview that is essentially only interested in redistributing the spoils of extractivism [the process of extracting natural resources from the earth] and not reckoning with the limits of endless consumption.

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