The Earth is on fire – literally and politically. From southern Europe to the American West, from South Asia to the UK, we are witnessing heatwaves, floods and systemic breakdowns not as outliers but as the new normal.
And still, somehow, we go on pretending.
The Guardian's recent opinion headline – “Why do we pretend heatwaves are fun and ignore the brutal, burning reality?” – poses exactly the right question. Why are inflatable paddling pools, rooftop cocktails and weather presenters chirping about “glorious sunshine” still our cultural defaults, even as climate systems tip dangerously toward the edge?
This dissonance is a form of climate denial. Not the outright rejection of science, but a quieter, more pervasive refusal to let the facts fully alter how we live, lead, or legislate.
Adaptation limits
This week, the UK’s Climate Change Committee released its latest review, warning that Britain remains dangerously unprepared for what lies ahead. “We are not resilient to the changes that are already happening,” the report states. And worse, the pace of adaptation is slowing just when it needs to accelerate.
While the report argues that the UK can still reach net zero by 2050, it warns that this alone will not protect the country from flooding, heatwaves and food system instability. "Adaptation is as important as mitigation," the committee notes, "and right now we’re failing on both fronts."
This echoes what climate scientist Tim Lenton told The Guardian in a powerful new interview: “This is a fight for life.”
Lenton, an expert on climate tipping points, warns that cascading climate failures are not decades away – they are unfolding now.
What may once have been theoretical risks are becoming visible ruptures in our weather systems, water cycles and social infrastructure.
“We are in a planetary emergency,” he declares bluntly. “But there’s still agency. We have a meaningful chance to turn this around – if we act.”
Tipping points and privilege
Among the most chilling parts of Lenton’s interview is his critique of how the wealthy attempt to insulate themselves from climate impacts – by migrating, insuring, air conditioning, or building physical barriers.
“People with financial resources are trying to buy resilience,” he says. “But in the long run this is not a crisis that respects wealth.”
We saw that vividly in 2023’s flash floods in Germany, and again in recent Canadian wildfires and southern US droughts. Critical infrastructure collapses. Water fails. Food prices spike. Insurance markets break down. And while the vulnerable suffer first, no one is untouched
In short, climate chaos is not a distant threat to people in far away lands. It is here, now, and it is coming for the systems we all rely on.
Fiction as foresight
As someone who has turned to fiction rooted in climate science as a means of conveying urgency, I see this new way of storytelling as a way to make the different facets of climate change more real.
My forthcoming novel, Flood Waters Down, imagines a near-future Britain fractured by flooding, authoritarian drift and collective disorientation.
The geography is drawn from Climate Central’s real-world sea level projection tools. The characters – though fictional – face choices rooted in policy inertia, displacement and social fragmentation.
They live in a country that pretended, for too long, that it could “cope” its way through climate change.
If that sounds familiar, it's because it is.
Just this past week, CNN detailed the now-undeniable link between human-caused global warming and record-breaking heatwaves across the globe. “We are seeing extremes that scientists didn’t expect until the 2030s or 2040s,” one researcher noted. “We’ve accelerated the timeline of risk.”
Heat isn’t neutral
Extreme heat is not just uncomfortable. It kills. It erodes productivity, threatens food security and degrades mental health. It disproportionately affects the elderly, the poor, outdoor workers and those living in poorly insulated or densely built environments.
And yet, in much of the UK’s mainstream media and politics, heat is still treated as a lifestyle issue, not a public health or systemic risk.
Another recent editorial in The Guardian put it plainly: “We must stop thinking of climate breakdown as a future issue. We need to build national readiness now, or we’ll let everyday life keep breaking down.”
That means investing in climate-resilient infrastructure, yes. But it also means telling new stories – stories that prepare people not just with facts, but with frameworks for feeling, thinking and acting differently.
Inflection point
The convergence of science, policy warnings, media coverage and lived experience is no coincidence. We are in an inflection moment – when the consequences of inaction are visible, and the possibilities of change remain open.
Whether we respond with courage or complacency will define more than just the future of emissions. It will define the kind of society we become and the kind of world we leave.
In Flood Waters Down, the waters rise – and so does something else. It’s characters and the challenges they face aren’t far from us. They’re just a few degrees – and decisions – ahead.
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Flood Waters Down – for further details contact Clive Simpson
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