Book Review: Losing Earth The Decade We Could Have Stopped Climate Change

Losing Earth: The Decade We Could Have Stopped Climate Change, by Nathaniel Rich. Pan Macmillan Publishers (2019), 256 pages. ISBN 9781529015843

Reviewed by Bianca Gonçalves 

Nathaniel Rich’s Losing Earth reflects on one of the main tragedies of our time: climate change. The book takes us back to a critical decade—1979 to 1989—when the world had a real opportunity to prevent the climate crisis from spiraling out of control. Yet, despite having the knowledge, scientific consensus, and even political momentum, we failed. This failure, as Rich explains, stemmed not only from political inertia and economic greed but also from the deliberate rise of climate denialism, which obstructed meaningful action.

Unfortunately, this reality is not so different in the field of art conservation. Rich’s story resonates deeply because, just as politicians ignored and denied climate change, we in the art conservation sector often recognize what needs to be done but are held back by bureaucracy, budget cuts, and a lack of political will.

The Book and a Decade of Missed Opportunities

The basic science behind climate change is straightforward: the more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, the hotter the planet becomes. In 1979 scientists were already aware of this and understood its implications. In his book Rich takes us through the key figures of that era, from James Hansen, a NASA scientist who warned Congress in 1988 about the dangers of climate change, to Rafe Pomerance, an environmental activist who tirelessly worked to push climate change onto the political agenda for decades.

Despite growing awareness, Losing Earth argues that the world failed to act because of political inertia, economic interests, and the emergence of climate denialism. Funded by the fossil fuel industry, misinformation campaigns were launched to cast doubt on scientific consensus, successfully undermining public understanding and the political will to act. Rich highlights how this movement gained traction, especially in the United States, where skepticism about climate science became a mainstream political stance. The Reagan administration, in particular, prioritized deregulation and economic growth over environmental concerns. 

 Internationally, there was an inability to establish binding agreements, despite awareness of the emerging crisis.

The decade’s efforts culminated in a high-profile climate conference held in Noordwijk, Netherlands, in 1989. This summit aimed to produce an international agreement to limit carbon emissions. However, the United States, under pressure from the fossil fuel industry and a lack of political leadership, refused to commit to binding targets, resulting in the conference’s failure. Had the United States and global leaders considered these warnings, it might have been possible to limit global warming to 1.5°C or less—a threshold that scientists now view as increasingly unattainable.

The truth is, Losing Earth is not an easy read. It’s challenging not only because the language is dense and the content repetitive but also because it reflects the ongoing lack of progress since the 1980s. The repetition in the book mirrors our repeated failures—and as I write this in 2024, the pattern persists. This year has proven to be an undeniable "masterclass in climate destruction," as UN Secretary-General António Guterres aptly described at COP29: Brazil’s Amazon is burning and its rivers are drying, southern Latin America and Eastern Europe are flooding, and wildfires are ravaging Portugal. On top of all this, we have wars. The list is long, heartbreaking, and infuriating. Meanwhile, the U.S. has re-elected a climate-denying Trump administration, and Shell’s court victory in the Netherlands has further delayed critical climate accountability. The cycle of inaction continues, making Losing Earth a sobering reflection of how little has changed.

What This Means for Art Conservation

One of the most striking parts of Rich’s book is Jesse Ausubel's question: “What do you do when the past is no longer a guide to the future?” As an art conservator, this hits home. Our profession is centered on preserving the past, but if the world’s ecosystems collapse, what future are we preserving for? Conservation isn’t just about objects or artworks—it’s about the world they belong to, the people who created them, and the environments they inhabit. Climate change threatens all of this, and our profession has to adapt in response.

Like climate scientists, we too are at a crossroads. The time to act was yesterday, yet we often find ourselves entangled in processes, policies, and paperwork. We talk endlessly about sustainability—making conservation greener, reducing the environmental impact of our work—but where is the urgency? If our house is on fire, do we sit down and draft a report before putting out the flames?

At ICOM-CC Valencia in 2023 and IIC Lima in 2024, the theme was “Sustainable Solutions.” These conferences were filled with passionate and insightful discussions on sustainability in conservation, but as I listened, I couldn’t help but think: are we still just talking? Greta Thunberg posed the same question to her government at the age of 11, and she is still asking it at 19. How many conferences, COPs, meetings, reports, catastrophes, floods, wars, and fires do we need before we act? We know what needs to be done; the challenge now lies in prioritizing and taking action.

Conclusions and Actions

 As we say in Brazil, “A vida é aqui e agora. Ontem já foi e amanhã não sabemos” (Life is here and now. Yesterday is gone, and tomorrow is uncertain). Rich’s Losing Earth reflects on the past, but its message for today is clear: the time for quick fixes has passed, and delays only make solutions harder and more expensive. While we missed a critical opportunity in the 1980s, the next best time to act is now. One of the book’s strongest points is its reminder that we cannot wait for governments or corporations to lead the way. Change must also come from individuals, communities, and professionals.

Going against the odds presented in the book, I’ll end on a positive note because I truly believe the cultural sector holds a unique power to inspire action and drive change. Art has the power to touch minds and hearts, igniting the emotional and intellectual shifts essential for building a sustainable future. Initiatives like the Gallery Climate Coalition’s Artist Toolkit and Carbon Calculator, Ki Culture’s and GoGreen’s greener thinking programs, and the Getty Conservation Institute’s Managing Collection Environments through the Bizot Green Protocol demonstrate that solutions are already being developed within the arts. Lorraine Finch’s Carbon Literacy training and her simple tips, shared through The Caring Conservator on Instagram, further show how conservators can make meaningful changes in extremely accessible ways.

With the Green Deal and the urgency of the UN Sustainable Development Goals, the transition to a greener future is both necessary and imminent. For culture to effectively advocate for sustainability, it must lead by example and act collectively.

Author bio

Bianca Gonçalves, a Brazilian paintings conservator, operates Atelier CurArte between the Netherlands and Brazil. Specializing in modern and contemporary paintings, she focuses on preserving cultural heritage through greener techniques and advocating for a more environmentally and socially sustainable profession.

Read this and other reviews in the December-January 2025 "News in Conservation" Issue 105. Access this issue on the IIC homepage: iiconservation.org