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An Ode to My Family’s E-Bike

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Monday, March 17, 2025

On a chilly morning last October, my 8-year-old daughter and I took our new e-bike, which she had named Toby, on its maiden voyage to school. We admired trees exploding in vibrant golds and flocks of geese soaring above. To amuse ourselves, we’d brought along a life-size Halloween skeleton, which sat in the back with my daughter, arms outstretched in a friendly wave. Along the way, people honked, smiled, and stopped to chat. I felt connected to our neighborhood in a way I hadn’t ever experienced.Before Toby, mornings spent driving my daughter to school were monotonous and filled with traffic. Since the purchase, our commutes have become daily highlights. My daughter and I bond with each other and our community, and we get to appreciate the time outdoors, all while saving on car maintenance and mitigating our carbon footprint. But the e-bike has changed our life in many other ways too—some of them unexpectedly profound.Our family’s motivation to get an e-bike started with climate concerns. Kids learn by example, and my husband and I often wondered if we were setting the right one by driving two gas-guzzling cars. But the alternatives were limited. We couldn’t afford to purchase an electric vehicle. Electric scooters were out of the question—they’re meant to transport only one person and can be dangerous for children. I tried biking to school once, my daughter behind me in a trailer. Many miles later, I showed up drenched in sweat—great as a workout, but impractical for day-to-day.[Read: How school drop-off became a nightmare]So when our city introduced subsidies on e-bikes, we decided to give one a try. They’re fairly safe, cheaper than cars, and gentle on the environment. Plus, one study shows that they make for some of the happiest commuters. We chose one in a zippy sky blue, with two padded bench seats, metal safety bars, and oversize storage bags on either side. It’s cheerful and somehow charismatic, befitting its sweet name.From our first trip that October day, it was clear how much easier and more pleasant getting around on Toby would be than driving in a car. We avoided the worst of the car traffic and all the huffing and puffing of cycling. E-bikes are still great exercise—riders burn only about 15 to 30 percent fewer calories on them than people on typical bikes do—but you probably won’t get sweaty enough to need a shower. I also felt good knowing that riding Toby enabled us to act more in line with our environmental values. Research from the Rocky Mountain Institute, a nonpartisan nonprofit focused on energy, has found that if all drivers in the 10 most populous American cities switched from cars to e-bikes for trips shorter than five miles—a category that makes up more than 60 percent of all car trips in the United States—the emissions reductions would be “equivalent to avoiding the use of four natural gas plants over the course of a year.”And the costs were affordable for our family. Our e-bike was $1,200 after the subsidy, requires an annual $200 tune-up, and accrues negligible electricity costs. They’re a bit pricier without the subsidies—good ones go for about $2,000—but savings on gas could add up fast.More than the practicality, I’ve appreciated how much easier Toby has made it to connect with my daughter. Sitting directly behind me, she’s more involved in our journey than when she’s in the back seat of a car, so opportunities for learning come naturally. I alert her to upcoming bumps, narrate various turns and stops, and ask her to double-check for cars coming up behind us. We’ve discussed the satisfaction of using our bodies to get somewhere rather than letting the throttle do all the work. Toby can go up to 25 miles per hour, so I’ve explained the importance of slowing down for pedestrians.Being out in the open air also gives us a chance to stop and say hello to people we recognize and to meet our neighbors, which we rarely did before. “We don’t belong in silo’d cars driving around our neighborhoods,” Arleigh Greenwald, a bike mechanic and the creator of the online community resource Cargo Bike Life, told me in an email. Whereas cars shut us off from other people, bikes open up opportunities to bond. Riding them is a step toward “creating a connected community,” Greenwald wrote.[Read: The real reason you should get an e-bike]Of course, e-bikes aren’t for everyone. Families in high-level apartments without elevators would struggle to lug them upstairs. Parking them outside takes some forethought and a good lock. Most batteries last for only about 15 to 60 miles, so the bikes are best for shorter travel. They won’t help much with moving either. Toby can handle Costco runs for our family of three, but probably not for a big family.For those who do use an e-bike, getting around can be tricky. Cities weren’t built for e-bikes, and Greenwald pointed out that some roads aren’t safe for them. She recommended testing routes on your own before you bring your kids, asking local bike shops about safe options, and accepting when you’ll have to go with another mode of transport. “If I’m replacing as many car trips with safe e-bike trips as possible,” Greenwald told me, “I’m doing great!” In our rides, my daughter and I have encountered plenty of these infrastructural hurdles. Some routes don’t have bike lanes or have lanes that end at random spots; others expect us to go up stairs. When this happens, my daughter and I chat about why, and then we contact our local representatives together to request improvements—an important lesson in civic engagement.But once we found our best route to school, these obstacles faded. It takes five extra minutes each way, but that time is spent along a river trail where we’ve spotted herons, kingfishers, and kestrels. Our time outside has otherwise decreased as my daughter has gotten older, so this tether to the outdoors has been a gift. Being in nature can help kids manage stress, grow more self-confident, and maintain their mental health, Pooja Tandon, a pediatrician and researcher at Seattle Children’s Research Institute, told me in an email. I see this in my daughter, who seems cheerful and refreshed most mornings, not half-awake like she used to be.No matter how well her day starts, school can still be an interpersonal minefield. When I picked my daughter up in the car, she dealt with the residual stress by communicating through grunts. Now, perhaps energized by our rides, she tells funny or embarrassing tales, and updates me on the second-grade gossip. I’ve found that challenging conversations are easier on Toby too. When our cat recently passed away, my daughter waited until our commute to ask hard questions about death. Surrounded by nature and without the pressure of direct eye contact, I was able to think calmly about how to answer her in honest, age-appropriate ways.It’s been about five months since Toby’s first journey, and we’ve ridden nearly 1,000 miles. These days, e-biking feels easier than driving, even in situations you might not expect. We recently biked home after school as dark clouds rolled in over the Rockies and the first snowflakes of a late-winter storm feathered the sky. At a red light, we heard my daughter’s name and saw her classmate’s family in an SUV next to us; they seemed shocked that we were biking in the cold.I might have felt that way once too. But we were dressed warmly, and we didn’t want to give up our ride along the river path. That day, we watched waterfowl tuck into the river shallows for the evening and stopped to tell a neighbor with a new baby that we’d shovel their driveway in the morning. I worried that my daughter might have felt embarrassed about the stoplight encounter, but as we unbuckled our helmets in our driveway, she said she bet her friend had been wishing he was on an e-bike too. She clearly understood what I’d come to learn about e-bikes: Yes, our commutes were slightly slower and a little chillier than they once had been, but they were also so much richer.

It’s safe, cheap, and gentle on the environment. But its true appeal is much deeper.

On a chilly morning last October, my 8-year-old daughter and I took our new e-bike, which she had named Toby, on its maiden voyage to school. We admired trees exploding in vibrant golds and flocks of geese soaring above. To amuse ourselves, we’d brought along a life-size Halloween skeleton, which sat in the back with my daughter, arms outstretched in a friendly wave. Along the way, people honked, smiled, and stopped to chat. I felt connected to our neighborhood in a way I hadn’t ever experienced.

Before Toby, mornings spent driving my daughter to school were monotonous and filled with traffic. Since the purchase, our commutes have become daily highlights. My daughter and I bond with each other and our community, and we get to appreciate the time outdoors, all while saving on car maintenance and mitigating our carbon footprint. But the e-bike has changed our life in many other ways too—some of them unexpectedly profound.

Our family’s motivation to get an e-bike started with climate concerns. Kids learn by example, and my husband and I often wondered if we were setting the right one by driving two gas-guzzling cars. But the alternatives were limited. We couldn’t afford to purchase an electric vehicle. Electric scooters were out of the question—they’re meant to transport only one person and can be dangerous for children. I tried biking to school once, my daughter behind me in a trailer. Many miles later, I showed up drenched in sweat—great as a workout, but impractical for day-to-day.

[Read: How school drop-off became a nightmare]

So when our city introduced subsidies on e-bikes, we decided to give one a try. They’re fairly safe, cheaper than cars, and gentle on the environment. Plus, one study shows that they make for some of the happiest commuters. We chose one in a zippy sky blue, with two padded bench seats, metal safety bars, and oversize storage bags on either side. It’s cheerful and somehow charismatic, befitting its sweet name.

From our first trip that October day, it was clear how much easier and more pleasant getting around on Toby would be than driving in a car. We avoided the worst of the car traffic and all the huffing and puffing of cycling. E-bikes are still great exercise—riders burn only about 15 to 30 percent fewer calories on them than people on typical bikes do—but you probably won’t get sweaty enough to need a shower. I also felt good knowing that riding Toby enabled us to act more in line with our environmental values. Research from the Rocky Mountain Institute, a nonpartisan nonprofit focused on energy, has found that if all drivers in the 10 most populous American cities switched from cars to e-bikes for trips shorter than five miles—a category that makes up more than 60 percent of all car trips in the United States—the emissions reductions would be “equivalent to avoiding the use of four natural gas plants over the course of a year.”

And the costs were affordable for our family. Our e-bike was $1,200 after the subsidy, requires an annual $200 tune-up, and accrues negligible electricity costs. They’re a bit pricier without the subsidies—good ones go for about $2,000—but savings on gas could add up fast.

More than the practicality, I’ve appreciated how much easier Toby has made it to connect with my daughter. Sitting directly behind me, she’s more involved in our journey than when she’s in the back seat of a car, so opportunities for learning come naturally. I alert her to upcoming bumps, narrate various turns and stops, and ask her to double-check for cars coming up behind us. We’ve discussed the satisfaction of using our bodies to get somewhere rather than letting the throttle do all the work. Toby can go up to 25 miles per hour, so I’ve explained the importance of slowing down for pedestrians.

Being out in the open air also gives us a chance to stop and say hello to people we recognize and to meet our neighbors, which we rarely did before. “We don’t belong in silo’d cars driving around our neighborhoods,” Arleigh Greenwald, a bike mechanic and the creator of the online community resource Cargo Bike Life, told me in an email. Whereas cars shut us off from other people, bikes open up opportunities to bond. Riding them is a step toward “creating a connected community,” Greenwald wrote.

[Read: The real reason you should get an e-bike]

Of course, e-bikes aren’t for everyone. Families in high-level apartments without elevators would struggle to lug them upstairs. Parking them outside takes some forethought and a good lock. Most batteries last for only about 15 to 60 miles, so the bikes are best for shorter travel. They won’t help much with moving either. Toby can handle Costco runs for our family of three, but probably not for a big family.

For those who do use an e-bike, getting around can be tricky. Cities weren’t built for e-bikes, and Greenwald pointed out that some roads aren’t safe for them. She recommended testing routes on your own before you bring your kids, asking local bike shops about safe options, and accepting when you’ll have to go with another mode of transport. “If I’m replacing as many car trips with safe e-bike trips as possible,” Greenwald told me, “I’m doing great!” In our rides, my daughter and I have encountered plenty of these infrastructural hurdles. Some routes don’t have bike lanes or have lanes that end at random spots; others expect us to go up stairs. When this happens, my daughter and I chat about why, and then we contact our local representatives together to request improvements—an important lesson in civic engagement.

But once we found our best route to school, these obstacles faded. It takes five extra minutes each way, but that time is spent along a river trail where we’ve spotted herons, kingfishers, and kestrels. Our time outside has otherwise decreased as my daughter has gotten older, so this tether to the outdoors has been a gift. Being in nature can help kids manage stress, grow more self-confident, and maintain their mental health, Pooja Tandon, a pediatrician and researcher at Seattle Children’s Research Institute, told me in an email. I see this in my daughter, who seems cheerful and refreshed most mornings, not half-awake like she used to be.

No matter how well her day starts, school can still be an interpersonal minefield. When I picked my daughter up in the car, she dealt with the residual stress by communicating through grunts. Now, perhaps energized by our rides, she tells funny or embarrassing tales, and updates me on the second-grade gossip. I’ve found that challenging conversations are easier on Toby too. When our cat recently passed away, my daughter waited until our commute to ask hard questions about death. Surrounded by nature and without the pressure of direct eye contact, I was able to think calmly about how to answer her in honest, age-appropriate ways.

It’s been about five months since Toby’s first journey, and we’ve ridden nearly 1,000 miles. These days, e-biking feels easier than driving, even in situations you might not expect. We recently biked home after school as dark clouds rolled in over the Rockies and the first snowflakes of a late-winter storm feathered the sky. At a red light, we heard my daughter’s name and saw her classmate’s family in an SUV next to us; they seemed shocked that we were biking in the cold.

I might have felt that way once too. But we were dressed warmly, and we didn’t want to give up our ride along the river path. That day, we watched waterfowl tuck into the river shallows for the evening and stopped to tell a neighbor with a new baby that we’d shovel their driveway in the morning. I worried that my daughter might have felt embarrassed about the stoplight encounter, but as we unbuckled our helmets in our driveway, she said she bet her friend had been wishing he was on an e-bike too. She clearly understood what I’d come to learn about e-bikes: Yes, our commutes were slightly slower and a little chillier than they once had been, but they were also so much richer.

Read the full story here.
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Virginia Offshore Wind Developer Sues Over Trump Administration Order Halting Projects

The developers of a Virginia offshore wind project are asking a federal judge to block a Trump administration order that halted construction of their project, along with four others, over national security concerns

Dominion Energy Virginia said in its lawsuit filed late Tuesday that the government's order is “arbitrary and capricious” and unconstitutional. The Richmond-based company is developing Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind, a project it says is essential to meet dramatically growing energy needs driven by dozens of new data centers.The Interior Department did not detail the security concerns in blocking the five projects on Monday. In a letter to project developers, Interior's Bureau of Ocean Energy Management set a 90-day period — and possibly longer — “to determine whether the national security threats posed by this project can be adequately mitigated.”The other projects are the Vineyard Wind project under construction in Massachusetts, Revolution Wind in Rhode Island and Connecticut and two projects in New York: Sunrise Wind and Empire Wind. Democratic governors in those states have vowed to fight the order, the latest action by the Trump administration to hobble offshore wind in its push against renewable energy sources. Dominion's project has been under construction since early 2024 and was scheduled to come online early next year, providing enough energy to power about 660,000 homes. The company said the delay was costing it more than $5 million a day in losses solely for the ships used in round-the-clock construction, and that customers or the company would eventually bear the cost.Dominion called this week's order “the latest in a series of irrational agency actions attacking offshore wind and then doubling down when those actions are found unlawful.” The Bureau of Ocean Energy Management didn't immediately respond to an email seeking comment.U.S. District Judge Jamar Walker set a hearing for 2 p.m. Monday on Dominion's request for a temporary restraining order.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – December 2025

The World Has Laws About Land and Sea, But Not About Ice

As the Arctic melts and people spend more time there, defining our relationship to sea ice becomes more necessary.

When the Chinese cargo freighter Istanbul Bridge set sail for Europe in late September, it took an unusual route. Instead of heading south for the 40-day voyage through the Suez Canal, it tacked north. The freighter arrived in the United Kingdom at the port of Felixstowe just 20 days later—successfully launching the first-ever Arctic commercial-container route from Asia to Europe.For most of human history, the surface of the world’s northernmost ocean has been largely frozen. Now scientists predict that most of the Arctic Ocean’s 6.1 million square miles may be seasonally ice-free as soon as 2050. Economically, a less icy Arctic spells opportunity—new shipping routes and untapped fossil-fuel reserves. Climatologically, it’s a calamity. Legally, it’s a problem that has to be solved.  Much of the ocean’s center, the northernmost stretch surrounding the pole, will be subject to the lawlessness of the high seas—which will become a problem as more ships try to navigate a mushy mix of water and sea ice. And although the Arctic is the world’s fastest-warming region, and contains its most rapidly acidifiying ocean, it has few environmental protections. Scientists don’t have a clear idea of which species might need defending, or of the climate effects of unbridled shipping. (Ships puff black carbon, which reduces ice reflectivity and, in the short term, causes up to 1,500 times more warming than carbon dioxide.)In October, the United Nation’s special envoy for the ocean, Peter Thomson, called for countries to agree to a “precautionary pause on new economic activities in the Central Arctic Ocean” to buy time to study the climate and environmental risks of increased activity. Others are asking for an agreement akin to the 2020 Artemis Accords, which committed 59 nations to the “peaceful” and “sustainable” exploration of space. But some polar-law scholars argue that curbing climate catastrophe may require a more radical reimagining: to make sea ice a legal person.For centuries of seafaring, ice was an obstacle blocking people out, not an environment anyone thought to protect. Even in the Arctic, “we have laws about the land, we have the Law of the Sea, but we don’t have laws about ice,” Apostolos Tsiouvalas, a postdoctoral researcher with the Arctic University of Norway, told me. Because dealing with ice hasn’t been a major concern, even for the five nations that border the Arctic, and because ice is always transforming, its place in the law is confused at best.In many cases, solid ice extending from a coastline has been treated as legal land, and ice carried by a current has been considered water. During the Cold War, both Russia and the United States maintained scientific “drift stations” on detached ice floes. In 1970, when a shooting occurred on one American station, several nations debated where, exactly, the crime took place. Was the ice Canadian, because it likely calved from a glacier on Canada’s coast? Was it an American island? After some back-and-forth, the vessel-size chunk of ice legally transformed—by no small imaginative leap—into an American ship.The so-called Arctic Exception of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea does extend states’ rights to impose laws far from the coastline, in areas that are ice-covered for most of the year. The point was for Arctic states to help prevent accidents and pollution, but states have since used the exception to extend their geographical sovereignty. But the term ice-covered complicates these claims. How much ice means “covered”? Are we talking uncrossably frozen, or just a few drifting bits?That’s the problem with regulating icy regions: Even if these cryo-categories were more formalized, none would apply for very long. A large majority of Arctic ice is sea ice, which forms on ocean surfaces when salt water freezes. (It’s distinct from icebergs, which calve from landbound glaciers.) Human activity may have accelerated its melt, but sea ice was already one of the planet’s most dynamic systems, its surface area fluctuating by millions of miles season to season. It’s always either melting or freezing, and as it melts, its fragments can travel hundreds of miles along waves and currents.In an article published this month in the journal The Yearbook of Polar Law, Tsiouvalas and his co-authors, Mana Tugend and Romain Chuffart, argue that piecemeal updates to current laws simply will never keep up with this fast-changing and threatened environment. Future governance of sea ice will require a transformation of some sort, and they argue that the clearest path forward is to bring the rights-of-nature movement to the high north.  Since Ecuador’s landmark 2008 constitutional protection of nature, Bolivia, India, New Zealand, and other countries across the world have made natural entities legal persons, or otherwise given them inviolable rights. The UCLA Law professor James Salzman, who has taught a class on nature’s rights, told me that this idea does not represent a single legal framework but that it does answer what he calls the “Lorax problem” of environmental law, referring to the Dr. Seuss character who claims to “speak for the trees.” Granting a voiceless entity legal personhood provides it with a representative to argue on its behalf.With this designation, Tsiouvalas and his co-authors note, sea ice would get the highest legal status possible. In many cases, environmental protections can be bent to accommodate other, conflicting benefits to human society. But personhood grants an inherent right to exist that can’t be superseded. The new paper is mostly an ethical exploration and, the authors acknowledge, still just a stepping stone to more concrete regulations, but granting ice rights would create firmer standing to, for example, keep ships out of areas that humanity might otherwise want to use. The authors also note that rethinking sea ice’s status could include Indigenous people who have been routinely excluded from decisions around Arctic sovereignty and whose millennia of living on and with ice could guide its future governance.But Sara Olsvig, the chair of the Inuit Circumpolar Council, told me recently that the legal interest in Arctic rights of nature is a “worrying development.” To Olsvig, the phrase rights of nature itself implies some separate concept of nature that doesn’t exist for the Inuit. And in the past, the environmentalist movement has elevated its idea of “nature” above the interests of Indigenous people. Decades-long bans against whale and seal hunting, for instance, devastated the cultural continuity and health of Inuit in the far north.To answer such concerns, any legal right granted needs to be very clear about the duties that follow, Salzman said: If sea ice has a right to not be harmed, what constitutes “harm”? Would that mean blocking all human interference with the ice, or merely banning fuels that emit black carbon? After all, the major threat to sea ice—global emissions—“is not something that can be locally managed,” Salzman pointed out, and so far, natural resources have obtained legal personhood only in a national context. Rights for sea ice would require international agreement, which could be not only harder to achieve but harder to enforce. Sara Ross, an associate law professor at Dalhousie University, in Canada, told me that, in her view, legal personhood granted via international treaty would be too dependent on goodwill agreements to be effective.But in some ways, legal personhood for nonhumans is an old idea, Ross said. Most countries grant it to corporations, and in the United States and Commonwealth countries, it’s typical for ships too. She especially likes the ship comparison, because—as maritime law has already discovered—floating pieces of ice aren’t so dissimilar. She imagines a more circumscribed role for sea-ice personhood, connected to, say, setting standards that ban icebreaking or heavy fuel emissions in icy areas. If these mandates are violated, local Inuit communities would have the power to sue on behalf of the ice—whether or not they could prove how much one particular ship degraded one particular stretch of ice. Without some legal protections put in place, the sea ice will soon disappear that much faster. In October, the U.S. bought new icebreaking ships from Finland and undermined an International Maritime Organization agreement that would have had shipowners pay a fee for the greenhouse gases their vessels emit. The next week, just after the conclusion of the Istanbul Bridge’s voyage, Russia and China made a formal agreement to co-develop the Northern Sea Route that the ship had followed. If summer sea ice disappears entirely, scientists predict accelerated catastrophe—leaps in temperature, more frequent and stronger storms, global sea-level rise—which will threaten the planet’s general livability. “The fact that we need sea ice to survive is not a rights-of-nature argument,” Salzman said. “But it’s still a pretty good case to make.”

Neil Frank, Former Hurricane Center Chief Who Improved Public Outreach on Storms, Has Died

Neil Frank, a former head of the National Hurricane Center credited with working to increase the country’s readiness for major storms, has died

Neil Frank, a former head of the National Hurricane Center credited with increasing the country's readiness for major storms, died Wednesday. He was 94.Frank led the hurricane center from 1974 to 1987, the longest-serving director in its history.“He gets tremendous credit for the being the first one to go out of his way and reach out and make the connection between the National Hurricane Center and the emergency managers,” said meteorologist Max Mayfield, who served as the hurricane center's director from 2000-2007. “He taught me that it’s not all about the forecast,” Mayfield said. “A perfect forecast is no good if people don’t take immediate action.”Frank’s son, Ron Frank, said in a Facebook post that his father died at home a few days after going into hospice care.KHOU-TV in Houston, where Frank spent two decades as chief meteorologist after leaving the hurricane center, first reported his death. The station referred an Associated Press call for comment to CBS, whose spokeswoman declined comment but directed the AP to Ron Frank’s post.When Frank started at the National Hurricane Center, advances with weather satellites were helping forecasters to better predict the location and direction of a storm. Frank worked to make that information more accessible to residents in hurricane-vulnerable areas, said Mayfield. He also regularly appeared on television to give updates on storms and advice on staying safe.“He was so passionate and you could just feel his enthusiasm but also sense of warning — that he wanted people to take action,” Mayfield said. “He was very animated, spoke with his hands a lot. And if you’d play it on fast-forward, he’d look like a juggler sometimes.”Frank was skeptical that human actions, such as the burning of oil, gas and coal, cause climate change, Mayfield said. In a video posted to YouTube titled “Is Climate Change Real?” he instead attributed warming to the planet’s natural and cyclical weather patterns. Scientists today overwhelmingly agree that burning of fossil fuels is the primary driver of planet-warming emissions that are causing more frequent, costly and deadly extreme weather around the world.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – December 2025

Seven books to help you work through the climate anxiety you developed in 2025

With the holiday travel season ramping up, a good book is a must-have for airport delays or to give as the perfect gift.

With the holiday travel season ramping up, a good book is a must-have for airport delays or to give as the perfect gift.Journalists from Bloomberg Green picked seven climate and environmental books they loved despite their weighty content. A few were positively uplifting. Here are our recommendations.Fiction“What We Can Know” by Ian McEwanIt’s 2119, decades after the Derangement (cascading climate catastrophes), the Inundation (a global tsunami triggered by a Russian nuclear bomb) and artificial intelligence-launched wars have halved the world’s population. The U.S. is no more and the U.K. is an impoverished archipelago of tiny islands where scholar Tom Metcalfe embarks on an obsessive quest to find the only copy of a renowned 21st century poem that was never published.The famous author of the ode to now-vanished English landscapes recited it once at a dinner party in 2014 as a gift to his wife, but its words remain lost to time. Metcalfe believes access to the previously hidden digital lives of the poet and his circle will lead him to the manuscript. He knows where to start his search: Thanks to Nigeria — the 22nd century’s superpower — the historical internet has been decrypted and archived, including every personal email, text, photo and video.The truth, though, lies elsewhere. It’s a richly told tale of our deranged present — and where it may lead without course correction. — Todd Woody“Greenwood” by Michael ChristieThis likewise dystopian novel begins in 2038 with Jacinda Greenwood, a dendrologist turned tour guide for the ultra-wealthy, working in one of the world’s last remaining forests. But the novel zig-zags back to 1934 and the beginnings of a timber empire that divided her family for generations.For more than a century, the Greenwoods’ lives and fates were entwined with the trees they fought to exploit or protect. The novel explores themes of ancestral sin and atonement against the backdrop of the forests, which stand as silent witnesses to human crimes enacted on a global scale. — Danielle Bochove“Barkskins” by Annie ProulxAnother multigenerational saga, spanning more than three centuries and 700 pages, this 2016 novel by a Pulitzer Prize-winning author tracks the deforestation of the New World over 300 years, beginning in the 17th century.Following the descendants of two immigrants to what will become modern-day Quebec, the story takes the reader on a global voyage, crisscrossing North America, visiting the Amsterdam coffee houses that served as hubs for the Dutch mercantile empire and following new trade routes from China to New Zealand. Along the way, it chronicles the exploitation of the forests, the impact on Indigenous communities and the lasting legacy of colonialism.With a vast cast of characters, the novel is at times unwieldy. But the staggering descriptions of Old World forests and the incredible human effort required to destroy them linger long after the saga concludes. —Danielle BochoveNonfiction“The Joyful Environmentalist: How to Practise Without Preaching” by Isabel LosadaIt is hard for a committed environmentalist to feel cheerful these days. But Isabel Losada’s book encourages readers to undertake a seemingly impossible mission: finding delight in navigating the absurd situations that committed environmentalists inevitably face, rather than succumbing to frustration.Those delights can be as simple as looking up eco-friendly homemade shampoo formulas on Instagram or crushing a bucket of berries for seed collection to help restore native plants.The book itself is an enjoyable read. With vivid details and a dose of British humor, Losada relays her failed attempt to have lunch at a Whole Foods store without using its disposable plastic cutlery. (The solution? Bring your own metal fork.) To be sure, some advice in her book isn’t realistic for everyone. But there are plenty of practical tips, such as deleting old and unwanted emails to help reduce the energy usage of data centers that store them. This book is an important reminder that you can protect the environment joyfully.— Coco Liu“Breakneck: China’s Quest to Engineer the Future” by Dan WangChina’s President Xi Jinping is a trained engineer, and so are many members of the country’s top leadership. Dan Wang writes about how that training shows up in the country’s relentless push to build, build and build. That includes a clean tech industry that leads the world in almost every conceivable category, though Wang explores other domains as well.Born in China, Wang grew up in Canada and studied in the U.S. before going back to live in his native country from 2017 to 2023. That background helps his analysis land with more gravity in 2025, as the U.S. and China face off in a battle of fossil fuels versus clean tech. — Akshat Rathi“Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds and Shape Our Futures” by Merlin SheldrakeA JP Morgan banker might seem an unlikely character in a book about fungi. But R. Gordon Wasson, who popularized the main compound found in “magic mushrooms” with a 1957 article in Life magazine, is only one of the delightful surprises in Merlin Sheldrake’s offbeat book. The author’s dedication to telling the tale of fungi includes literally getting his hands dirty, unearthing complex underground fungal networks, and engaging in self-experimentation by participating in a scientific study of the effects of LSD on the brain. The result is a book that reveals the complexity and interdependency of life on Earth, and the role we play in it.“We humans became as clever as we are, so the argument goes, because we were entangled within a demanding flurry of interaction,” Sheldrake writes. Fungi, a lifeform that depends on its interrelatedness with everything else, might have more in common with us than we realize. — Olivia Rudgard“Toms River: A Story of Science and Salvation” by Dan FaginWhen chemical manufacturer Ciba arrived in Toms River, N.J., in 1952, the company’s new plant seemed like the economic engine the sleepy coastal community dependent on fishing and tourism had always needed. But the plant soon began quietly dumping millions of gallons of chemical-laced waste into the town’s eponymous river and surrounding woods. That started a legacy of toxic pollution that left families asking whether the waste was the cause of unusually high rates of childhood cancer in the area.This Pulitzer Prize-winning masterpiece of environmental journalism reads like a thriller, albeit with devastating real-world fallout. It also shows how companies can reinvent themselves: I was startled to learn that Ciba, later known as Ciba-Geigy, merged with another company in 1996 to become the pharmaceutical company Novartis. At a time when there’s been a push to relocate manufacturing from abroad back to the U.S., this is a worthy examination of the hidden costs that can accompany industrial growth. — Emma CourtBochove, Woody, Liu, Court, Rudgard and Rathi write for Bloomberg.

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