We keep talking about climate change like it’s weather chatter, but the truth is sharper: kids born today might grow old on a planet that’s no longer Earth. Something else. Something that looks like it crawled out of a B-grade sci-fi flick — low-budget apocalypse, real-world cast.
And the studies… God, the studies. Piled high enough to pave a highway to the moon. Square kilometres of warnings, charts, heat maps, predictions shouted into the void. Meanwhile, action only happens in the thin political space between now and the next election. Do just enough. Never too much. Don’t upset the donors.
We blame the fossil barons. The far-right denial factories. The religious crowds who shrug and say God wouldn’t let this happen — or better yet, that He promised a new heaven and a new Earth, so what’s the worry? Across the world, same story: Iran praying for rain as the rivers die, the dams suck air, the land cracks. Somewhere, a divine voice would probably say, I gave you a perfect world. You broke it. Fix it yourselves.
But I keep circling a darker question: what if we’re missing something fundamental? Some disruptive truth too awkward for our species-sized ego?
Think about it. In the 18th century, electromagnetism wasn’t even a rumour. Faraday pulls on a thread, Maxwell writes the equations, and suddenly the invisible becomes real. Then quantum physics, relativity, nuclear fire — boom. But is that the end of the road? We act like we’ve found the last great thing nature was hiding. That seems… unlikely.
Because here we are: a species smart enough to diagnose its doom in peer-reviewed detail, and still we keep tightening the noose. It makes you wonder — are we stupid, or is something driving us? Something we don’t name because to name it is to see it.
Call it negation. Not a ghost, not a demon, nothing with a shape or a pulse. Something that exists without existing. No mass, no coordinates, no timestamp. Undetectable, yet present. A kind of inward gravitational pull toward self-undoing.
You see it in the headlines: a young soldier kills toddlers, then turns the gun on himself. Erasing the child was erasing himself. Negation completing its circle.
And maybe — just maybe — the planet is just the latest child.