
“TO 2030. I hope we did right by you”. It is an unusual dedication that appears at the front of . But then Kimberly Nicholas, a sustainability scientist at Lund University in Sweden, has written an unusual book: a guide, she says, to living through the “decade that will define the future for both humanity and life on Earth“. It is part clear-headed summary of what we know about climate change, part call to action and part personal reflection on how global warming has challenged her own views and values.
Nicholas spoke to Âé¶ą´«Ă˝ about climate science, environmental loss, the problem of finding a green date on Tinder and her challenging legacy as a turkey heiress.
Advertisement
Richard Webb: What’s the meaning of the title Under the Sky We Make?
Kimberly Nicholas: It came to me when I was travelling overland to a science communication conference in Finland several years ago. I was really struck by what a momentous time we live in. We are the stewards of the very last traces of humanity’s carbon budget. We’re making the sky that we live under, and that our descendants will live under for many generations. We have a lot of agency and power and responsibility. I want us to make the changes we need to make a safe and beautiful sky, not the dangerous one we’re making at the moment.
You summarise climate change as: “It’s warming. It’s us. We’re sure. It’s bad. We can fix it.” But you also say that science won’t save us. Why would a scientist say that?
I wanted to convey that science has taken us about as far as it can in the time we have. We know what the problems are, and we have most of the solutions. It worries me that sometimes there’s an excessive faith in science and technology – that we can just switch from fossil fuels to clean energy and carry on exactly as before. That’s not going to be enough. We need social and political and cultural changes as well as implementing scientific solutions.
The book suggests you already feel a sense of grief over the extent of the climate crisis.
I’ve been studying climate change since 1997. In that time, it’s gone from being something that experts can see in long-term data sets to something we all are living through. In 2017, I was on the phone with my parents evacuating their home during a catastrophic wildfire in California that was made more likely and more devastating by climate change. My stomach was gripped by fear for their lives. That is so different than making calculations and plotting points on a graph.
I also quote my Lund University colleague, the conservation biologist Ola Olsson, saying “Half the wildlife in Africa has died on my watch”. Much of what we do as environmental and climate scientists now is about witnessing the demise or death of what we love. That’s not what I first thought I was getting into.
You also express anger, for example at the fossil-fuel industry’s denialism. Is that emotional response compatible with the dispassionate role of a scientist?
I absolutely do feel angry at the injustices of climate change: that people who have done the least to cause it suffer the most, and for the injustice across generations. And there is this really well-documented misinformation campaign over decades from the fossil fuel industry. I genuinely do not know how oil executives sleep at night knowing the harm that their products are causing. That is, I think, justifiable and righteous anger.
I think scientists can be human beings with emotions and also do rigorous and fair science. As a sustainability scientist, I must deliver goals that society has set, for example the Paris climate change agreement and the UN Sustainable Development Goals. The governments and the people of the world have said clearly that we want to live in a world where everyone’s needs are met and well-being is prioritised, but where we also have thriving land and oceans and a stable climate.
Science tells us equally clearly that we don’t live in that world today, and we’re not heading for it with the decisions we’re making. It’s really critical that scientists who have this information speak up, point out this gap and highlight how we can do better and deliver what society has said we want.
You say that working to undo climate change can be “a crucible to create meaning in our lives”. What do you mean by that?
We find things meaningful that are bigger than ourselves, that connect us with others, that are about giving more than taking, that make us part of a story and where our actions are in line with our values. Climate action really gives us the opportunity to put all those things in place. There is no more important task than stabilising the climate and ensuring a good future for all of us alive today and every human who will ever live. It’s an opportunity for everyone, way beyond just scientists.
You have given up flying to scientific conferences. Isn’t the flexibility that makes such decisions possible a luxury that most people can’t afford?
Definitely. But the people who really need to make lifestyle changes are the people who have that luxury, like me: it’s the 10 per cent of the global population who make above about $38,000 per year. Emissions are proportional to income, and we are the real high emitters who need to be changing our behaviour, not the majority who never fly, including half of people in the US and UK.
Some of my colleagues and friends have been saying they can’t wait to fly away on a short break after the pandemic. How do you change an ingrained mindset of privilege?
Around flying, it’s starting to change. I lead a research project called , which is looking at the social movement in Sweden of people giving up flying for the sake of the climate. Here, it’s reaching very close to a social tipping point where enough of the country’s population is joining – around 25 per cent – to precipitate a wider change in norms. That movement is spreading to other countries, too.
You write about trying to find love on dating app Tinder as someone with deeply ingrained climate values. How did you do that without becoming an insufferable bore and turn-off?
Thank you for assuming that I’m not an insufferable, boring turn-off! It’s not always easy, and there were definitely some awkward first dates where it was clear that my climate priorities and values did not mesh with those of the people I was seeing. When I met my husband, on our fourth date we went by train to Paris for 15 hours. We actually ended up liking each other a lot better at the end of it.
Besides travel, there are other areas where we need to prioritise reducing emissions, for example in agriculture and food production. You have a problematic legacy there.
Globally, almost a quarter of greenhouse gas emissions come from agriculture, and a disproportionately large share of that comes from animal agriculture. My grandfather George helped invent an industrial-style process for making bigger turkeys where you basically feed them highly concentrated corn, soy and wheat, and turn food and clean air into greenhouse gases and an excess of nutrients in the form of animal poop.
A lot of research shows that both for health and for climate reasons, we need to shift to a more plant-based diet. And livestock need to be integrated into a wider system – for example cows grazing on grasslands that benefit from grazing for biodiversity or cultural reasons – rather than feeding animals food that could be going to people.
In general, it is cheap to buy things that are dangerous to the planet, like a plane ticket or industrial meat, and comparatively expensive to buy sustainably produced stuff. How do we change that?
One fundamental challenge is realising we need a stable climate to have a functioning economy. An economy is meant to deliver things that improve human lives. We can’t measure that in terms of just GDP; we need to look at indicators like education and healthcare and social equality and democracy.
Subsidy reform is another big part of it. Some of my own work recently has been looking at the [EU] Common Agricultural Policy, showing how some subsidies increase income inequality and pay big polluters rather than the lowest-income farmers. Meanwhile, fossil fuel subsidies and the cost of the damage they cause amount to more than 6 per cent of the global economy. Recalculating the value of things so that the market price reflects their true costs is a big step to an economy that meets our needs in a sustainable way.
How do we protect the interests of people who might have difficulty with that transition?
We do have to pay attention to equity and justice issues, and support the transition for workers in industries like coal mining and aviation that do need to decline to meet climate targets. But there is a smaller number of jobs affected than you might think. In the US, there are fewer people employed in the coal industry now than work at Arby’s, a fast-food chain. We can ensure jobs and provide social safety nets and have a stable climate.
You co-authored a paper showing that having one less child was the greatest long-term cut to emissions an individual can make. But in your book, you write “no one is going to save the planet by not having kids”. How are those statements compatible?
It’s true that the number of people on the planet matters for the climate. If we have more people consuming resources the way that the top 10 per cent of high emitters do today, that has a very big long-term climate impact.
But that impact takes into account many future generations. To solve the climate crisis and stabilise the climate, we need to get emissions down to zero very quickly – at least halfway by 2030. It’s us who are alive now who have to make the changes.
You have harsh words for the idea of geoengineering, for example injecting aerosol particles into the atmosphere to reflect sunlight and mitigate climate change. Why?
To me, this kind of solar geoengineering is like peak exploitation mindset. It’s thinking that people can and should control nature, and that the answer to the uncontrolled experiment we’re running now by adding so much fossil carbon to the atmosphere is to add more stuff to the atmosphere to try to counteract it.
That is designed for failure. It just covers up the problem and ignores, for example, that the carbon would still be there in the atmosphere, being absorbed by the oceans and acidifying them to death. It violates the principle that we need to get to the root cause of problems. We know that burning fossil fuels is the main cause of the climate crisis, so that’s what we have to stop doing.
Do you worry about the politicisation of climate change, especially in the US?
There’s some good news there, actually. The latest surveys show that less than 10 per cent of people in the US don’t believe that humans are changing the climate. Thankfully, we don’t need to engage that group to make changes happen. But we do need to activate, engage and empower the 90 per cent to demand change, and we do that through shared values.

I got a lovely email the other day from a friend of my parents who knew me when I was growing up, who I am fairly certain has voted Republican her entire life, including for Trump. She said “thank you for the work you’re doing, I want my grandkids to have clean air to breathe”. There are some widely shared values that we can connect with people over. Maybe it’s not so much about trying to convince or convey facts if those have become politicised.
How can we marshal those shared values and beat climate apathy?
There is research showing that politicians in the UK are well aware of the problem of climate change, but don’t feel pressure to act. The drumbeat from citizens needs to be much louder, not just by voting, which is super important, but by supporting and joining and contributing to climate charities and groups working towards the climate transition.
I actually have set a challenge for myself, that I’ve also put out in a monthly newsletter I’ve started called . And it’s to contact your elected officials and talk to them about cars in your city or neighbourhood, or whatever policies are bad for the climate and bad for health and other things. That’s a very effective thing to do, and it’s rarely used.
Can we fix it?
At the moment, we are headed for something like 3°C of warming, which I lose sleep over. We can do it, but it will take a big effort: radical, sweeping changes through society. Fundamentally, nobody knows if we can pull this off or not. But what is humanly possible is what humans make possible. We definitely will not do it if too many people sit on the sidelines. This is an incredibly important, terrifying, nail-biting, but also very exciting time to be alive, because what we do really, really, really matters.
Climate change: Free subscriber event
Join Kimberly Nicholas and Âé¶ą´«Ă˝ staff on Thursday 1 July as they discuss the latest on climate change